The Silent Stars Go By
On the night of October 31st, Nanami Kento feels his death approaching. Knowing you are on the battlefield with him, and knowing he cannot die without showing you how he feels, he seeks you out...and subverts destiny.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, "last night on Earth" smut, truly desperate, frantic, semi-public, Shibuya ending rewrite
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Nanami Kento knew he was to die, on October 31st.
He was no arithmancer. A pragmatist at heart with a mathematical streak, he had, however, carried his barely living friend to safety, found the bodies of many others, punched a young man to death, and lived to tell the tale. The numbers divined great danger ahead, and, by the time a pink-feathered songbird had sung the perish song of Satoru Gojo, Kento could not deny the maths.
Kento could suddenly see no distant future for himself, as he once could. And yet between then, and now, there was one stark similarity; what future Nanami Kento did see, contained only you.
Behind his eyes flashed a montage of memory-- of midnight laughter-filled dinners at the Konbi. Of shielding you in battle, and you shielding him in return. Of you sitting on his lap, stitching his wounds with utmost care, before your reverse-cursed technique had fully developed. Of falling in love with you, and denying himself joy for believing he may give you none.
Being around you was agony. Being away from you was worse.
"I'll be heading underground," he had intoned to Nitta and Nobara, taking in their girlish features for the last time with a stab through his belly, "after I catch up with someone. Stay safe. Don't sacrifice yourself."
He was a hypocrite. He knew this. He would walk to the gallows, proud, if only he could take you in his arms and cry his love for you, first.
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Looking out over the city, having heard Yuuji's cries for 'Nanamin' only a few minutes earlier, you did not know you were being desperately searched for by Kento. You had determined yourself to find and follow Yuuji, the boy without protection.
The night breeze whipped at you, unhindered by walls and trees, on the roof of one of Shibuya's tallest buildings. Turning to leave, you felt a familiar warmth approaching. The man you loved opened the stairwell door, squeaking on its pivot.
Missing his suit jacket and tie, with his sleeves rolled up, he thrummed with raw, uncontained power. Something feverish stormed within his eyes as he looked to you. His steps were slow, and considered. The quiet calm of his voice was deliberate, soft.
"Kento, what...what are you doing here? Is that blood? Oh god, you're bleeding-- let me heal you--"
"Stop. It isn't mine. Just listen for a moment."
"Isn't yours? Then one of the others? We should get them to Shoko--"
"--I need you to listen, now--"
"--we haven't got any time--"
"I love you." The air fell still; a puff of blossom in suspended animation. You had not realised you were holding your breath until Kento's steps caught up to you, and his hands grasped yours. A melancholic certainty rolled off him. Flicks of blond fell over his forehead, that fervour still gripping him; gripping you.
"I love you. You are the purest truth I know. The warmest light. Anything I am, and anything I could have been, is at your mercy, and always has been."
The gut-churning adrenaline you had felt for the fever-pitch of battle was suppressible, before Kento's impassioned promise. That dam broke inside you, and the terror and adoration and injustice heaved out of you in one great sob. You needed his body flush to yours. Public decency took a back seat. So many years of restraint and doubt slid away.
You looped your arms around Kento's neck, one hand grasping his shoulders, and the other sinking into the back of his hair. Kento almost broke, himself, but couldn't; not yet. He had to show you. Needed to show you.
You felt him pull your head away from his shoulder, and you resisted, until his fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head. You were nose to nose. You could feel his heart booming in his chest, fresh from a fight you had not witnessed.
"If this is my last chance," Kento whispered, his nose stroking yours, "will you let me take it?"
"...what...what do you know...that I don't? Kento--"
"Please." Kento growled, his teeth gritted. You felt the twitching contractions of his belly, his hardening cock pressing against you. You couldn't resist his need to control this, and take what he needed, even if you wanted to. Your breaths ached in your chest. Silent, glossy-eyed, you nodded.
Kento broke, possessing your lips in one shuddering kiss. His hands and body squeezed at your softly yielding hips, all-consuming, trying to overfill himself with any scrap of you he could take. He dominated the kiss completely, selflessly, as thoughtlessly altruistic as he had always been. He groaned, panting through the taste of you, his tongue sliding against yours. His cock wept inside his boxers-- it was all too much too much but not enough--
You mewled, little hands gripping onto his collar, sending thunder to Kento's core. Kento pulled away, cursing, feeling the need to know the scars that pleasure etched upon your skin. You were scorched by his touch, too pliable now to do anything but bend to his insistence.
In blood and brutality you sought each other, beacons in the night with stars as your witness. They looked on, disinterested, as if fate held any regard for the lives of mortals, over gods.
With time as his final remaining enemy, Kento pulled you to his lap, sitting with his back against the low wall overlooking the city. He knew for whom the bell tolled. He would see his duty done before the final chime, and he stared into you in your entirety. Though neither a painting nor an ivory box, he handled you with kid gloves.
You straddled his lap, unbuttoning his shirt, and he whispered, groaning and bucking up against your clothed sex as he watched your nimble fingers press his opened shirt apart. Running your hands in reverence down his bared chest and belly, he could not have loved you more than when he saw his own desperation reflected back at him.
In another life-- in any other world-- I--
He lifted you, enough for you to kick your jeans and underwear off, his teeth bared to feel your core press against his aching cock. He spoke through your kisses, a fractured sentence punctuated by his apologies.
"I didn't-- didn't prepare-- no protection-- I can't-- can't stop-- please don't make me stop." He begged, reaching down to hook his cock out. You silenced him with one hand wrapped around his rigid length, and Kento stilled with a hiss.
--take you to dinner first, I'd show you the world-- fill you with its beauty before I fill you with mine--
"Don't care--" You insisted against his neck, "--don't care...need to feel you." Kento almost sobbed with relief to feel you hold him, stroking the head of his cock between your glistening folds. You let his cockhead and slit catch over your clit, shivering, intoxicated by the way he watched you with one hand splayed across your belly, the other on your hip, and blown pupils. He bucked his hips, needy, full of baleful possession.
--and we'd have a Victorian glasshouse with a garden you'd love-- and you'd plant wildflowers while I do the laundry--
Grasping your hips with a snarl as you stroked his cockhead down, Kento impaled you downwards onto him, the moment his cock notched at your entrance. You squeaked, pussy clenching with the sudden blissful invasion, your squirming making you sink lower. Kento felt a telltale throb of impending orgasm in his belly, and he was certain if you clenched one more time--
Your pussy full to the brim, you instinctively bucked downwards. Feeling Kento belly-deep, his trembling fingers dropped to your clit, and you felt Kento's abs twitching beneath your splayed hands. Feeling two clever fingers bracketing your clit and rolling from side to side, you squeezed him, milking his cock and locking him inside you.
--all the late nights and early mornings and train rides and arguments in sickness and health for richer for poorer--
"--love you-- I love you too." You sobbed into his chest, loose and warm against him. Kento saw stars, coming with a shout, thick ropes of cum spurting into you. Looking up at the euphoric agony on his face, and his fingertips bruising your ass as they pinned you down around him, satisfied you spiritually, in a way so alien to you.
You rolled your hips, drinking down every part of him. The long, powerful contractions of his cock inside you, his stilted low moans, his gasps of pleasure as your tight gloved heat continued to stroke him. Starved for him, desperate for more, you rode Kento to frantic overstimulation.
--so unfair this is so unfair, die for you like you'd die for me like I'd die for you like you'd die for me--
You realised with a happy squirm that he hadn't yet removed his glasses or harness. With his shirt trapped against his shoulders, and his lens steamed, fucking upwards and thrashing his head from side to side beneath you, you couldn't stop yourself. You felt the fullness of his creamy load still plugged deeply inside you, and pushed hard against him. Kento cursed, paralyzing you with a hushed roar of agony, and a hand grasping your throat.
"--asked you to make love to me-- not kill me-- but shit, if this is how we go, just take me with you-- take me with you--"
His fingers had never left your clit, now rolling it insistently, until you were the one wriggling and desperate. Still being stuffed with his cock and cum made your pleasure three-dimensional, and Kento's half-hard length began to stir to life again, still high off the adrenaline of punching a man to death. He growled at you with gritted teeth.
"--beautiful...good girl...not done with you yet...shit, keep it in, keep it all in...take me with you...please--"
With half lidded eyes, you grasped Kento's forearm. His hand still braced you with exquisite tenderness around the throat, a necklace instead of a noose. His second hand worked frantically against your clit while you moaned and begged above him, still speared on his cock, feeling him lengthen and thicken again inside you. You whimpered and keened, and Kento committed you to memory, just like this. He would close his eyes in his final moment, and see you, breaking like spun sugar above him, no sweeter sound than his name on your lips.
--bake for you on Sundays, and the bread would always burn, because we'll be too busy--
Kento continued stroking you, pressing kisses onto your forehead as he guided you down from your high. Cautiously starting to roll his hips up again, he moaned at the slick sucks of his cock sliding through his cum and yours. Unthreading his shirt through his harness, Kento threw it to the ground, before lying you down on top of it.
Otherwise fully dressed, with dried stains of blood rusted over his chest and back, Kento bore over you like a vengeful god. Here to take his spoils, he still handled you like glass, resting your head on one of his planted forearms, with a hand under the small of your back to protect you from the floor.
"...I've wanted you for so long-- you don't even know--"
"I knew." Kento faltered. His anguish at leaving you for certain death sharpened, with the sudden knowledge of past chances untaken. His heart clenched, aching down his arms, steeling himself. He couldn't help but lean into your hand, cupping his jaw.
Nuzzling his nose to yours, Kento melted at your smile twinkling up at him. He smiled back, suddenly bashful, lopsided with crinkling eyes, before biting down on one lip and slamming his cock down into you. Your gasp shook through you, clawing into the harness across his chest and shoulders, hearing Kento swear with pleasure at the intensity of a second round.
Kento barely pulled out, wrapped in your arms and tight cunt. He almost spat with anger at the simultaneous need to savour you, and the need to leave, knowing he could not have both. Duty to you held the greater weight and, feeling another orgasm creep through his back and balls far too quickly, he slowed.
Completely engulfed by the enormity of him, you stared up at Kento, made submissive under his emotional insistence, the thick aching stretch of him sheathed inside you. Your back arched off the ground with a guttural moan when Kento slowed, dragging himself through your core from ball to tip in long, languid thrusts, the whole length of his cock glistening with gluey white seed.
He swore he could feel every ridge of you, the mind-altering bend of his cock as it moulded to the curve inside you. He needed you to carry the shape of him forever, an unremovable flesh-memory. Something had changed in him as you carded your fingers through his hair, whispering praises to him, to try to hold him together.
Kento looked drunk. His eyes were distant and hyperfocused all at once, his breaths and groans gruff, his voice gravelly with emotion as his mouth muffled against your shirt.
"--sorry, I...can't move my hands...hurt you, I--" Kento grasped your shirt between his teeth, ragging his head from side to side with a growl to lift it up over your breasts. He did the same to your bra, gripping the cups to yank your breasts free. They bounced out, full and peaked under his hot, frantic breaths.
Kento nosed at them, pulling his cock from you slowly, only to slam back into you with enough force to leave you writhing and whimpering. His mouth and nose played with your breasts, nudging, sucking and biting, hungry and obsessive. Something primal glimmered in his green glass-concealed eyes, as your mounds jiggled every time he fucked into you. The visual stimulus of you spread beneath him, your tight pussy slick with his cum, doe-eyed and completely willing, sent him spiralling towards his high.
"God I wish I--wish I could stay-- more than anything...cum with me, please please please--"
His thrusts became frantic, rough and sloppy with no warning. Kento's eyes darted from your face, to your breasts and pussy, and back again, drinking in the shock and ecstasy plastered over your face. You were trapped within the humid embrace of him, erotically overstimulated by his smell, his desperation, the constant stroke of his weeping cockhead against your spongy soft spot.
You didn't realise how close you were to orgasm until his position shifted, his trimmed honey-gold trail now rubbing against your clit. Clinging onto him, and rubbing upwards to meet his thrusts, you begged for Kento to help you. Your begging was Kento's last straw, and he gasped, his seed slugging out in lazy, creamy trickles against your overstuffed cervix and pussy.
Barely able to see straight, Kento kept rubbing his rigid pelvis against you, gruff and messy while you felt the drag of pleasure through you, softer than bare feet through hot sand. Kento whispered to you, sweat mingling on your foreheads pressed together; "...don't regret a thing...won't regret a minute-- wish this was different...deserve more..."
Panting in each others embrace, the dreadful horror of reality seeped back into you both. You could hear cries in the distance, the rumble of battles. You fought an unwinnable fight. Silent, and pensive, you jolted out of your reverie to hear Kento groan above you, reluctantly pulling his softening cock free. He knelt, dewy-eyed, watching the gluey drip of his cum from you, moaning and shivering as he held his half-hard cock, nudging the cum back inside with his tip.
The sudden emptiness almost made you weep. You felt the same terrible foreboding emanating from him as you had when he arrived on the rooftop. Kento smiled down at you, heartfelt and reassuring, pressing a folded pocket handkerchief to you before pulling your underwear back on over it. He kissed you delicately, from toe to knee while you giggled, before planting one lazy kiss and nuzzle onto your belly. You grasped his head there, scratching gently at his scalp with your fingernails.
"Stay with me, Kento. Just stay." You pressed, knowing in your gut that his decision was already made. His sigh creaked the leather of his harness with broad, corded tugs of his shoulders.
"They need help, underground. I'm one of the few First Grades available. It's only right that I go down there."
Kento's words, as always, rang with decisive finality. Before you could begin to talk again, he interrupted you smoothly.
"You will not come with me."
"You can't stop me."
"Shoko needs you. Your reverse cursed technique is second only to hers, and she's in need of support. It's the proper thing to do."
You squirmed with guilt, knowing you would choose to let Shoko suffer over Kento. Kento glowered down at you, stern, as if he hadn't just fallen apart inside you. You swallowed, a coil of doubt inside your belly.
"...don't be a hero, Kento." Kento frowned as if he didn't understand, and you insisted. "Don't be a hero. Get yourself out first. I mean it." Kento hesitated, looking out over the city lights, the breeze ruffling his mussed hair. He pulled his shirt back on, threading it under his harness.
"...alright." He lied. He paused. You both stood, sticky with each others' cum cooking between your legs. Nuzzling nose to nose, it felt so surreal to have to toss aside post-coital softness, in exchange for the cold embrace of battle.
"Go to Shoko," Kento whispered against your lips, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "and help her. Please. Do as I say."
"Promise you'll come back to me." You hushed into his kiss, beseeching him. He softened, deceptively reassuring, while hearing his clocktower chime.
"Always. I'm all yours. Always." Planting one lingering kiss to your forehead, you watched Kento's retreating back, his figure disappearing down the stairwell.
You wondered if you'd ever trust anyone other than Kento, over your own instincts.
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Shoko was surprised to see you, her cigarette drooping as she raised her thick, dark eyebrows.
"Kento told me you wanted me." You insisted. Shoko shot Yaga one questioning look. Yaga shrugged, arms folded.
"We haven't spoken to Kento all evening." Shoko assured. You felt a flash of panicked rage in your gut, knowing he'd lied to you. Knowing he was taking himself to an unwinnable battle. You grabbed Shoko by the arm.
"Where are they? His team? Where is he?"
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Kento was bloodied, missing an arm of his shirt, his vision obscured by the incessant bleed of a head wound. Pushing out of Dagon's domain, he knew he was exhausted, already skirting his limit. He felt a monstrous wave of Cursed energy, so much deadlier than his own.
A volcano-headed Curse approached him, its hand outstretched and hovering over Kento's abdomen. Naobito and Maki already smouldered in agony, and Kento felt the sickening weight of failure in his chest He had only a moment to protect himself, and he may have coated his body in Cursed-energy in its entirety, had he not filled his death-sentenced mind with thoughts of you.
He expected fire and flames...and felt you. When he protected his right half, you had arrived at the edge of a knife blade, and protected his left. The volcano-headed Curse faltered, stepping back with a scowl.
Kento looked down at you, knelt at his side in a braced position. His clock stopped chiming, in a moment of twisted fates reserved previously for the gods alone. He considered that you were, perhaps, a goddess, and he may be your vassal. You looked up at him, bristling with rage, and Kento's heart swelled.
"I'll tell you off later. For now...we have a fight to finish."
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By the end of the night, Itadori Yuuji had gained a brother and retained a beloved father figure. Nanami Kento cast his eyes over Choso with a hum of resignation, considering he may have another boy to look after, too. The patch-faced curse who may have been his executioner in another life, met its end. He witnessed an old friend who was not an old friend, cast a battle royale over the length of Japan.
Gazing in mute horror over the devastation left behind, Kento felt a hand slip into his own. His ears flushed red. He cleared his throat.
"I'm-- I'm so sorry--"
You laughed, your hands over your face. Kento's eyes glimmered with mirth. He plaited his fingers in yours, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, mumbling against them.
"My hero."
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back to shibuya
snippets of your life with kento after you both miraculously survived shibuya.
pairing: nanami x f!reader
content: angst and somehow comfort?
a/n: second nanami fic and i can't just drop the angst! but i think this one's more calmer than the last one. hope you guys enjoy! loved seeing your comments <3
jjk main masterlist (coming) | main masterlist
Nanami woke up in the middle of the night, exalted, with a cold sweat running down his body and a terrible disastrous feeling that something horrible had happened. His head did not rest as his arms moved to the left side of the bed… empty. Cold.
For a moment he felt an invisible force steal the breath from his lungs, an uncontainable pressure planted itself in his chest and his erratic breathing only worsened.
In the midst of his shock, he took his gaze around the room.
Dark. Too dark.
Nanami Kento kept having nightmares ever since the Shibuya incident. Waking up after each one was worse when you weren't next to him in bed and it was too hard for him, in the midst of the panic that was gnawing at him, to remember that he had gone to bed the night before with you next to him. Fear clouded his mind and his judgment and without a second thought he found himself crawling out of bed, across the room, the whimpers of your name piercing the silence of the huge house.
“y/n! love…” he almost pleaded.
His feet carried him into the hallway, and from the hallway to the bathroom, from the bathroom to the guest room and from that room to the living room, from the living room to the kitchen where he could barely register the glow of the light on and your figure sprawled on the island chair, sound asleep.
Nanami stood on his feet in the kitchen doorway, his fingers twitching in involuntary spasms. Trying to catch his breath, memories came back to him bit by bit.
That day, when Kento had come in from a heavy day at the office, because he had left the sorcerer world as soon as it was all over in Shibuya, and you were waiting for him at home with one of his favorite dishes. The warmth of the lovingly made food in his mouth, the savoring of your lips on his when he dragged you to bed and didn't let you escape, even though you wanted to watch the new episode of the series you watched together. The tranquility and peace it brought him to have your body curled up with his, between the sheets, with no other care in the world but to have you by his side.
Perhaps he had even sensed when you moved in his arms to get out of bed and from that moment on he had surely begun his nightmare.
Nanami moved towards your figure, his crystallized eyes roaming over your body, his steps light and cautious as if he feared that at any moment you would disappear right in front of his eyes.
With all the good memories also came the bad ones, and his hands clutched at his sides at the spasm of pain that shot through his chest. He would probably never forget the heartbreaking way your lips said his name, repeatedly asking for forgiveness, thinking you would not make it. Inside Shoko's infirmary, holding his hand when by sheer luck he had escaped Mahito's hands with Itadori. But you didn't need to know that, not at that moment, not when Nanami felt you were slipping out of his grip when he had you right in front of him.
Your closed eyes in that awkward posture also brought back those bad memories for him.
“y/n…” Kento stepped closer, reaching up with trembling hands to grab you by the shoulders. He barely brushed against you and his hands contracted. His breathing hadn't calmed at any point, he had simply been fighting back tears. You were there at that moment, fine, alive, he could see the way your body moved slightly as you took in air and expelled it.
You were fine.
So why couldn't he calm down?
Kento watched your profile, deciding not to disturb your sleep, especially since he knew how much it would worry you to see him with that broken expression, with those tears he wasn't being able to hold back.
He dropped down in front of you, his knees touching the cold wood of the floor. His brow furrowed, expression contracted, lips pursed trying not to make even the slightest noise. Tears running down his cheeks, his hands holding his face because he couldn't believe that he still had so much stress and so much fear when too much time had already passed, when Shoko had already saved you, when your recovery was already over. When you were already so well that you had agreed to leave the country to live with him anywhere else in the world.
He didn't know why he was still so full of that anguish when everything was fine. That sometimes made him think that maybe it wasn't true; that he had been imagining that whole journey, that really neither of you had made it past that day and now… and now…
Kento's emotions were too strong and no matter how hard he tried to contain them, it was physically impossible.
When you woke up, you barely registered the yellow light and the view of the kitchen and living room when you heard it. Him.
Your back and neck ached from how fast you moved, frantically looking everywhere until you stood up and your feet bumped into something.
Kento. Huddled in front of you as if he wanted to make himself tiny enough to disappear. His little sobs pierced your soul. Hands covering his face and moving through his hair in an almost desperate gesture.
“kento…” you murmured, trying to get his attention, but that only made his sobs increase. “kento, it's okay. You're okay. We're okay.”
You knelt down in front of him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, feeling something inside him unwind and his arms move extremely quickly to wrap around you just the same. You didn't know what had been going through his head, but from the way he whimpered into the crook of your neck, bringing tears to your own eyes, you knew it was nothing good.
Like every time he had a nightmare, Kento could only go back to Shibuya. It was something that would probably take him years to heal.
“i love you, kento. we're fine.”
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salvatore. nanami k.
cw: filthy, age gap
reader is 23, nanami is like 30-45 if you have a problem then go away
an arranged marriage with nanami.
your parents selfishly gave you away to him as a business move. on your end it was involuntary, but on his it was just something so he could take over his fathers business faster that required having a wife.
nanami kento is way older than you— at least got 10-15 years on you. he woke up early, worked out, shaved his face every week and stayed in his office for most of the day, giving you space. nanami was grown.
nanami kento was also a very traditional man, hence why your parents chose him. he enjoyed a traditional household. nanami worked during the day, handled business, his fathers business that he was in the works of taking over, and you? he only expected you to play the housewife role, giving you money when asked for various tasks. he only really asked for you to take care of the house and laundry.
you tried your best to not like him— to spite your parents. you really tried to ignore him every night when you went to sleep in the same bed together, you tried to stay quiet when he asked vague questions about what you wanted for dinner or what you wanted to do that day.
but you couldn’t ignore how attractive your husband was. he was mature and he always smelled good. you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together when he got a faint stubble on his face when it neared his time to shave again.
so after a couple months of moving in together you’re sitting at the dinner table, on the topic about trying to have sex or not. there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you didnt wanna have sex with nanami. even if you were pissed that your parents married you off, you did like your husband.
“we don’t have to.”
he said it bluntly, taking another bite of the pasta as he sat on the other side of the table. he was dressed in a collared shirt, a tie neatly around his neck.
you quickly picked up the glass of wine on the table. glass barely even touched before you started drinking regardless of you being well into the meal. you didn’t drink wine.
“i wouldn’t mind trying.”
he didn’t have any real expression on his face as he ate. glasses a little further down his nose than usual as he finished the pasta with one last big bite.
“okay. we’ll try tonight then.”
“ohhnnnggshiiittt”
nanamis cock was fat and gritty. must’ve had about a million veins on it because you swear you could feel every single one. he was well groomed as well, he kept it hairy but to an extent which was expected from him.
he knew how big his cock was. he knew it was big all the way from when he even brought up the topic of having see to begin with. getting into the bedroom and having him avoid taking his cock out until you were all prepped and in a daze.
and nanami made you feel so full with him. could feel him all the way up in your stomach. he made fucking sure you knew he was in there too from the way he pressed and pushed around at your abdomen whenever he got a chance.
your husband had your ass at the end of the bed. all perked up for him as he stood behind you on the floor. nanami had his hands on both sides of your upper back as he pushed you farther down into your shared comforter.
“does it feel better like this? or in the—previous position?”
his voice sounded out of breath, quiet subtle groans coming from him as he waited for his question to be answered. his pretty blond hair falling out of its usual perfect place but his pace never ever faltered.
it was honestly sickening for nanami to seriously expect a response from you like this. your body so hot, kisses and sweat coating it with your face so fucked out. eyes glossing over and your mouth half open, head bobbing with every stroke he gifted you.
the various pornographic noises that left your mouth bounced off the walls and throughout the house along with the even worse sounds of his pelvis hitting your ass over and over.
“n-amiiii”
“talk to me”
your new husband was quick to grab a fistful of your hair and pull you up from your position on the bed. forcing your head to rest on his shoulder and letting his hands glide along your body.
his fingers traced symbols and letters—his name— on your clit, the other pinching and pulling at your breasts while he kept rocking his hips into yours, mindlessly. your hands wrapped around both of his wrists, pushing at his waist and thighs softly.
“s’good nami”
“yeah?”
the blond started to kiss at your neck, his stubble tickling you but his motions never stopping. he was so experienced at this, made you feel so naive, inexperienced.
blondieeu xx
a/n: haven’t written for my fav in a while and i had this locked up in my drafts!!!
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