Work Text:
“Fuck!”
Your loud cry of pain gets lost in the steam of the bathroom. You look down and wince at your clumsy handiwork. With a razor in your right hand and your left fingers curled into a ball, blood runs down from where you nicked yourself on your leg. Goddamn, that stings. For a second the blood slows, and you gingerly move your leg into the running water.
You hiss as the stinging renews. It feels like the water is pushing back the sliced skin, trying to peel it down your leg like a hangnail.
Why haven’t I taken up waxing yet? you thought.
Luckily, you were pretty much done shaving before you butchered myself. Avoiding letting the water hit your cut, you’re careful when you dry off. Now, you’re standing in front of the mirror, rubbing on toner with a cotton round and massaging in serum, with your leg awkwardly sticking out from the slit in the towel. Your knee is bent and your heel is lifted so as not to let the rough towel touch the cut. Your calf begins to coil into the beginnings of a cramp. Just as you get ready to reassess the situation, there’s a gentle knock on the door.
Despite how cautious it was, you still jump.
“Are you okay in there?”
-
Nanami’s shoulders drop as soon as he enters his apartment. Work had knotted his muscles until it felt like he was entirely pulled taut. This was the second night this week he had had to go into overtime. That was unacceptable in itself, but the fact that the reason he had it tonight was because of Gojo...he seriously considered using his technique to knock down that lanky little shit.
However, now that Nanami is home, he takes a deep breath and finally feels at ease. Fragrant incense is burning on the coffee table in the living room, and he sees the preparations for dinner laid out on the kitchen counter.
She must have gotten that ready before…where is she? he ponders
He steps past the kitchen and hears the tinkling of running shower water. A moment later your shriek cuts through the air.
Nanami stills as he waits to hear what happens next. He didn’t think you fell — there was no thudding or further grunts of pain. But still, what could have happened? He hears the water squeal off, so he slips his jacket off, laying it over the back of the couch. Undoing his holster, he waits to hear any other muffling from the bathroom. Deciding that you’re probably okay, he still needs to know what made you cry out in such a way.
His socked feet pad down the hall. He can hear you going about your normal after-shower routine, so he taps on the bathroom door as softly as he can while still making his knock heard.
“Are you okay in there?” he asks.
It takes a moment, but the door opens and he looks down at you. Inside his chest his heart clenches. Your eyes are big looking up at him, your skin dewy and cheeks rosy from the hot water. He resists the urge to stumble back like a 19th century romanticist. On the other side of the spectrum, seeing your leg propped up and exposed like that, light glinting off your wet collar bones...serious stirrings begin to rouse below his belt.
“Welcome home,” you smile, relieved to see your love got home safe. You know he has overtime sometimes, and he’s great at what he does. Still, you can’t help but worry when he’s not home on the dot.
“I heard you yell,” he says, stepping into the bathroom a little.
The steam clings to him, making his clothes feel a little tighter.
“Oh, that.” you purse your lips and grab your moisturizer. “I got too happy shaving.”
Nanami’s hand slides along your shoulder, his thumb resting in the dip above your collarbone, the rest of his fingers spreading out behind your neck. A shiver spreads goosebumps over your hot skin at his touch. Your breath catches in your throat for a second, and your hands pause as they rub on your face. You recover a second later, trying not to make it obvious how much power he could have over you.
“That must have been pretty bad for you to yell like that,” he says.
Shrugging, you close the medicine cabinet. You look at him through the reflection in the mirror, but he is staring intently at you through his glasses. Turning towards him, you reach up and gently remove them.
“You know I like seeing your eyes.” you say, and rub your thumbs where the glasses left imprints.
He doesn’t say anything, his face is soft yet stern.
“Let me see how bad it is.” he demands in a...nice way?
With his hand still on your shoulder, he guides you to sit down on the toilet cover. You begin to feel flustered. What if it doesn’t look bad now, and he thinks you overreacted? Oh God, did you overreact? It was just a little cut, anyway.
His hand remains where it was, his thumb now gently rubbing the muscle that connects your head to your body. He kneels down, spreading open your legs until he finds…
“You did get happy, didn’t you?”
You chuckle as you both inspect the strings of blood that had slithered down from the inside of your shin, just below the knee. It throbbed a little, but otherwise didn’t feel too bad. Remembering how the gushing water felt on it though...you knew trying to clean it was going to be interesting.
“Does it hurt?” he asks.
You shrug. It probably didn’t hurt a lot right now because his hand was starting to slide around your neck. He used his other hand to grip your calf, lifting your leg and setting the sole of your foot on his shoulder.
Just as you start to suck air in, it goes stagnant as his eyes flick up to meet yours. Your eyes widen as he parts his lips and lets his tongue peek out. So gently it almost tickles, he slowly runs his tongue up the trickle of blood that ended at your ankle. Heat blooms in your cheeks and in between your legs. You watch him lap up the dark red, his eyes rolling back in his head. Is he really enjoying this?
Little did you know, the metallic taste of your blood pinged off his taste buds like firecrackers. That flavor, mixed with the sweet taste of your clean, smooth skin...he got worried he was about to break his zipper. After cleaning what had spilled out from the broken skin, he finally got to the sensitive source of your pain. Very slowly, he relaxed his tongue and slid it over the two identical cuts, both a couple centimeters long.
You throw your head back, a gasp escaping into the air. The physical aspect of you and Nanami has always been extremely intimate, but this was on a whole nother level. His fingers flex around your throat, squeezing out a little whimper.
“Look at me,” he says.
You snap your head back down, eyebrows a little furrowed. He’s looking up at you, your blood smeared along his lower lip, settling into the flesh of his tongue. You gulp.
“Does it hurt now?” he asks.
Shaking your head, he nods and flicks his tongue out, cleaning his lips and swallowing the mess. He takes his hand off your throat and hooks his arm under your other leg, pulling both over his shoulders as he begins to nip at your thigh.
“Wait,” you push your fingers into his hair.
He looks up through his eyebrows, clearly not pleased that you stopped him right before he got under the towel.
“I want to, j-just not while I’m sitting on the toilet.” you feel your face flare up at your stutter. “And I should get a band aid…”
Nanami stares at you hard for a second, clearly fighting between desire and practicality. You’re right, the toilet isn’t the most comfortable nor sanitary place to do this, despite how clean your apartment is. Blood was already beading again on the razor nicks, a band aid would be a good idea. But…
“You know I don’t like waiting.” Nanami says.
Gulping at his breathy voice, you rest your feet on the ground and reach for the shelves behind you. You pull a bandage strip out of a box, and Nanami takes it from your fingers, deftly sliding the protective covering open and resting the padded portion over the wound while pressing down securely on the sticky strips.
Now that your requests have been honored, he takes no time to grip your bicep, standing you up and pulling you into the hallway towards the bedroom. You keep up as best you can, but the man is clearly on a mission.
Once inside the confines of your room, the only light coming from the warm salt lamp in the corner, Nanami cups the back of your skull in his hand and cranes his own neck down to kiss you fervently. His other hand rests on the low part of your back, just above your ass. You feel his fingers curl, fisting the towel that covered you in his hand. He tugs sharply, the tuck that had been holding it up snaps apart. He discards it in a corner of the room.
The sudden feeling of cool air on your naked body makes you inhale sharply, briefly breaking the kiss. Nanami wraps his hand in your wet hair and pulls your head back, leaning down to imprint his lips down your neck. He’s leaning down enough that his hands easily slip over your buttocks to your thighs, and he lifts you up. You aren’t in his arms for long, he only did that to toss you on the bed.
Shadows cast under his sharp cheekbones. Heat pools at the base of your gut as Nanami’s hand goes up to his throat to loosen his tie. He pulls it left...then right...then slips it off his head. Reaching up, your fingers itch to get those hindering clothes off him. You lift off the bed to get in a better position to undress him, but you’re quickly slammed back down, his hand on your chest. It slides up, pausing for a moment at your throat before holding your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
Being forced to stay down by him was more arousing than you let on. You already knew you were warm and open enough to take him now, but you have no idea what exactly he has planned.
“You made me wait,” he tsks, a rare smirk gracing his lips. “Now, it’s your turn.”
With that, another pathetic whimper slips out of your throat. You plead with your eyes, begging to feel him inside you already.
Nanami knew how often you tried to rush foreplay and just get to the main event. He didn’t understand why you couldn’t get it through your thick skull that you are the main event. You often felt insecure the times it took you a while to get there, blaming it on yourself and feeling ashamed. What you didn’t know is that he was trying to draw as much pleasure out of you as possible. By the end of the night, he wanted you melted into a puddle of flubber, sweaty and satisfied.
Tugging you to the end of the bed, he kneels on the ground again, resuming his nipping and sucking along your thigh. He hovers over your core, eyes gazing up at you in amusement as your hips twitch in anticipation. You can feel his grin against your other thigh as you groan. Why can’t he just get on with it, already?
Finally, after a long journey of kisses down to your knee and back, Nanami finally runs his tongue along your sex. It’s so minimal yet so satisfying to finally have some external stimulation. You moan loudly, and with that encouragement, he welcomes himself to his feast.
His tongue licks up your slit, taking a second to give your clit an introductory suck. A muscle in your thigh shudders, and a hand quickly finds itself tangled in Nanami’s soft, golden hair. He’s going to unwind you, and you know it. You’re probably going to need to shower again tonight.
With your legs hooked over his shoulders again, he lets one of his hands wander up to your breast, cupping you while giving your nipple a squeeze. It hardened in his fingers, adding to the tightening sensation deep in your pelvis. Your free hand grips his wrist, head thrown back as he continues to lick, suck, and hum into you. Everything is building much faster than usual. Your legs are already trembling, toes curling in anticipation.
His hand that had been resting on your lower belly retracts to between your legs, and you wait for the feeling of his long fingers snaking their way inside you. But that feeling never comes. You lift yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him in confusion. His eyes remain closed, utterly blissed out as he goes to town sucking and flicking his tongue on your clit. His fingers draw gentle circles over your opening, never entering, and this teasing finishes the job.
The soaring wave of pleasure hits you hard. The sheets wrinkle in your hands as you claw at them. Repeated waves of heat beat through your body, numbing your mind and turning you into jelly. As the high comes down, Nanami begins the same process again.
Gasping in surprise, you look down at him as his fingers cruelly dance around your entrance, denying you something to clamp down on. His eyes open enough for him to wink at you, then close as he goes back to enjoy his meal. You shudder at the overstimulation, but it doesn’t take long for the tail of pleasure to begin winding up in your core again. Nanami brings you there again...and again...and again…
By the time he’s done, you can barely think straight. Your face buzzes and the inside of your head feels like static. It’s overwhelming, so much so that you don’t notice how quickly Nanami is ripping out his shirt buttons and flinging his belt open. You get enough wits about you to notice when he stands back and pushes his pants to the ground. His underwear and socks follow suit.
It’s slow, but you’re coming back to your senses. The bed dips when he comes back to you.
Before he starts anything else, he gives you a long kiss. His mouth is warm and his lips are soft like custard left out a little too long. You could taste yourself on him.
“Kento, please…” you whisper when he pulls away.
“Yes, my love?” he asks, pulling your leg straight up so he can kiss your bandage.
“Please,” you sputter again, drunk on pleasure. “I need you inside me.”
“I suppose we’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”
With heavy-lidded eyes, you look down at his long and girthy cock. It twitches, precum glistening on the tip. Not once when he was going down on you did he insert his fingers. Your sex felt swollen and empty, throbbing and begging for something to hold onto.
Lifting your gaze up to his face, eyebrows furrowed in concern at the thought of taking him with no prior stretching. He was being especially cruel tonight, and you kind of liked it…
“Ready, sweetheart?” his voice thrums.
You nod, unable to form words. He takes himself into his hands and rubs the head of his penis along your folds, coating himself in the warm, wet mess he created. Looking down at you, with your mouth hanging open and your eyes about to roll back in your head, he can’t deny you—or himself—any longer.
Slowly, Nanami eases himself all the way inside you, making you take all of him. At first you gasp and struggle underneath him, your engorged walls happy to welcome him. At the same time, the intense pleasure of finally having something to clench around is so overwhelming that you go still and quiet. As he eases out and collides back into you, starting up a steady rhythm, you feel like you’re going to pass out.
What has this man done to me? you think, your head lolling to the side.
His hips snap and his thumb finds a way into your mouth, his hand gripping your lower jaw as he forces you to look at him.
“C’mon, I want to hear you.” he says.
With that, he removes his hand from your face and latches it onto your hip. His tempo quickens and the trance-inducing pleasure of his slow thrusts is pounded away as he begins to wreck your insides.
A shriek of pleasure embarrassingly bounces out of your mouth, but Nanami revels in the sound. He thought he was going to cum the second he sheathed himself inside you, but held himself back. He isn’t done with you yet. Each thrust from him earns a blabbering praise, breathless moan, or screech of pleasure from you. He’s sweating with the exertion of not cumming inside you with every clench you make around his dick.
Nanami is bumping into each hot spot inside you and then some. Your cervix is taking quite a few blows as well. Despite how fucking good he feels, him being well-endowed does end up hitting the wrong spot too many times. You cry out, and the tone of your yelp isn’t the same as the usual ones. Nanami slows, lowering down to his elbows so he can stroke your hair and kiss you gently, all the while slowing the pace of his hips and not going so deep.
“Does it hurt?” he asks quietly in your ear, pressing his cheek to yours.
“A little,” you say breathlessly, but a moan still reverberates in your chest.
He plants a soft kiss on your cheek.
“Can you keep going a little longer, baby?”
You nod. “I’m okay, keep going.”
He hesitates. You often stuck it out too long and ended up with cramping and sharp aches for the rest of the night. He hated doing that to you, and it upset him even more when you didn’t tell him to stop before getting to that point. He begins to speed up his pace, still not going all the way.
That changes when your hand shoots up and grabs his hip, pulling him all the way into you. He groans your name, cock twitching inside of you. He took your initiative and ensuing cries of pleasure as a sign that you are doing okay again.
Nanami abruptly pulls out, leaving you empty and cold, but not for long. He flips you over onto your stomach, not even giving you a chance to crawl up to your knees. He covers your body with his, one arm twisting under yours and reaching his hand up to take a fist full of your hair. His other hand takes a bruising grasp of your hip, and you instinctively tilt your pelvis to allow him entrance. He slides back in easily, and both of you groan in relief.
It doesn’t take long for his quick tempo to resume, and this time, he’s in a position where he knows he’s hitting your sweet spot. The way you can barely even pronounce his name or take a full breath lets him know he’s where he needs to be. He’s quickly losing control of his rhythm, muttering curses in your ear.
“Yeah,” you mutter as pressure begins to rapidly build around your walls. “Yeah, yeah, yeah!”
Like a tidal wave, your final orgasm of the night makes you feel flipped upside down and inside out. You feel your heartbeat everywhere in your body. Nanami is coming undone above you, finally, and all you can do is lay there as you try to recover from the overstimulation.
“That’s...my...girl,” Nanami struggles to say before the milking of your walls around his cock unravels him entirely and unlocks his long awaited orgasm.
You both lay there, catching your breaths. Nanami is crushing you a little bit, but you don’t mind. It feels safe to be wrapped up by him, secure under the protection of his body. After a few minutes, however, he finally slides out of you, collapses on his side, and gathers you into his arms. He sings soft praises and plants soft kisses as you continue to catch your breath.
Looking at the alarm clock, it’s definitely too late for dinner now, and you’re much too tired to make it anymore. All you can think of doing is closing your eyes and passing out, but Nanami is beginning to get up and take you with him.
“Let’s go get cleaned up,” he encourages, trying to help you stand.
“I don’t think I can walk.” you protest.
Nanami smiles and scoops you up without batting an eye.
“We’ll shower together, okay, my love?” He kisses your forehead. “Maybe I can save you from nicking yourself this time.”