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bvbygrl-writes · 2 days

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"40 — Love"

Nanami Kento x Female Reader

word count: 3,700+

(After watching Nanami and Gojo’s tennis matches for so long, you decide you want to try your hand at the game. Luckily, you just so happen to have access to the perfect teacher.)

disclaimer/content warning: nothing explicit but still some suggestive content, minors please dni! set in my i’ll be your angel au (sugar daddy nanami), use of the word “daddy”, reader is called “angel, baby, sweetheart, princess”, size difference, jealous gojo satoru.

*ao3 mirror*

♡♡♡

The early summer’s evening sun beat down against the tennis court, the first gentle shades of what would eventually morph into a blazing sunset blanketing over you from where you lounged beneath the partial shade of an umbrella, the diamonds studding your ears and wrapped around your wrist winking in the soft amber light. Every movement you made caught Nanami’s eye, little glittering flashes of the newest jewels he’d gifted you distracting him like a magpie eagerly searching for a fresh sparkling trinket.

But he kept forcing himself to avert his gaze, umber eyes hidden beneath the lenses of his sunglasses as he trained his stare on his opponent. Gojo Satoru, on the other hand, was somewhat reveling in Nanami’s distraction. Perhaps now he might actually stand a chance at scoring a point against the blonde.

Satoru figured it would be hard for him to take his own eyes off of you, if you’d been visible from his side of the court. But, as was Nanami’s preference, Gojo’s back was facing you, though that still didn’t do much to stop him from trying to show off. If anything, it only encouraged him. Just a single glimpse of you in your sporty little baby blue skirt and crop top, the clothing hugging your sunkissed curves so deliciously it nearly had Satoru salivating despite the dryness his mouth had earned from all the recent exertion, it was enough to inspire him to give it his all on the court today, that was for certain.

Not that he ever took it easy when competing against Nanami, whether you were present or not.

And while Gojo excelled at plenty of other skills, Nanami Kento was a force to be reckoned with when there was a racket in his hands.

As Nanami sent the ball zooming past Satoru once again, earning himself another point (they weren’t keeping score, Nanami had said, just practicing, letting off some steam at the end of a long and busy day, but you’d secretly been keeping track the entire time, and so far, your Daddy was undeniably undefeated) you let out a cheer.

Nanami flicked his gaze over to you and gave a confident smirk and a thumbs up. No wonder he always won. He had the best good luck charm any man could ask for. And if Gojo thought blue was his color, today, it seemed, the shade belonged to Nanami through and through. He swept his gaze along your form, tracing from the big velvet scrunchie secured around your high ponytail all the way down to your pristine white sneakers.

He knew your favorite thing about joining your Daddy on his athletic activities was, of course, the cute outfits you got to model for him. And his favorite part, other than getting the chance to admire his favorite little cheerleader in between matches, was the fact that he’d get to take each and every article of clothing off of you later that night.

In the past, you’d participated alongside Nanami in some of his favorite physical hobbies— like golf or swimming or, like today, tennis— trying so hard to keep up with his speed and his strength and his skill. And weren’t you just so precious, thinking you could even come close to matching him? Because you couldn’t compete with him even if you wanted to. No one— not even Satoru— was a match for Nanami’s powerful tennis stroke.

You’d spent several afternoons as of late serving as a spectator, watching them play while you sat under your private little veil of shade and sipped pink lemonade, idly attempting to read through a book. But the thing about Nanami and Satoru’s tennis matches was, once the grunting and the sweat and the competition really began, you couldn’t focus on anything else. Couldn’t take your eyes off them, cold drink and paperback fiction all but forgotten as you sat up in your lounge chair, practically on the edge of your seat, leaning in as you peered over the delicate frames of your heart shaped sunglasses to watch them racing across the green top.

“Nice one!” Gojo called across to his casual-partner-turned-brutal-opponent as Nanami sent the ball back over the net in a clean, controlled arc. “But don’t forget this is—” His sentence was cut off with a growl as he hit the ball back with enough force to emit an audible crack echoing across the gardens. “A competition!”

Nanami leapt to hit the ball back in time, your breath catching when you feared he might actually miss. But at the last second, almost too fast for your eyes to keep track of, his racket sent it rushing back towards the man opposite him. Gojo dove for the ball but missed it by just a hair, the little blur of lime green slamming into the chain link fence with a shuddering rattle.

“Don’t get cocky now, Satoru!” Nanami teased, finally able to take a moment to catch his breath as Gojo went to retrieve the ball, raking a hand through tousled, sweat-streaked blonde strands. His lips cracked into an arrogant smirk, clearly not intent on taking his own advice. “Besides,” he added, lowering his voice a bit as he cast a glance your way. “You really think I’ll lose while she’s watching?”

Gojo peered over his shoulder, snowy locks damp and sticking to his temples and the back of his neck, a water bottle gripped in one hand while he used his other to fan his body with his black t-shirt. He couldn’t help but grin then too. Maybe if he had a good luck charm as perfect and pretty as you, he might actually manage to beat Nanami just once.

“Y’know, we might need to make a new rule,” Gojo suggested as he turned back to face Nanami, taking a few quick gulps of the flavored electrolytes. When he was done, he let out a satisfied sigh and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, lazily gesturing his tennis racket towards Nanami, he continued, “I could consider you bringing along your little cheerleader as cheating. Let’s see how you’d do without her around, shall we?”

Nanami’s gaze darkened at the prospect of the challenge, but ultimately his smile held steady. “How could I?” he replied, gently jovial. His full attention was on you now, and you resisted the urge to get up and saunter over to him upon his beckoning stare. “Besides, I promised I’d give her a lesson or two after we were done.”

“That mean we’re calling this match?” asked Satoru with a slightly defeated scoff.

Nanami could tell how eager you were to come over, so as he said, “Yeah. Better luck next time, I guess,” he gave you a beckoning wave.

You sprung up from your seat, trotting over across the court with a beaming smile, wearing a brightness to rival the season’s sunny weather. “Is your game over, Daddy?” you asked with that adorable sweetness lacing your tone, all watermelon-sugar and honey drizzled peaches.

What Gojo wouldn’t give to have a girl like you to call his own.

The moment you were within reach, Nanami was pulling you protectively against his side, one of his strong arms cradling your shoulders as you nuzzled further into his loving touch. “I’d say it is, princess,” he cooed, melting in your presence like a popsicle left out in the sun. Then he cast a somewhat taunting glance over at Satoru and added, “I mean, unless Gojo is intent on losing again today?”

Gojo flashed a mean, sharp smile, all pearly white teeth and malice, and then coughed out a huff of a chuckle, something cold and vengeful shining in those elysian blues. “Mark my words, Kento,” he taunted, “one of these days, I’m gonna annihilate you, and when I do…” His gaze then shifted to you, scanning up and down your form, trying hard not to let it stick on the soft flesh of your exposed thighs, the dip of your waist and the little sliver of your tummy that showed in the space between your skirt’s waistband and the hem of your top, the curve of your breasts and the bit of cleavage that peeked out from the V-neck. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, pink and wanting, right before he concluded with, “Good luck charm or not, she won’t be able to save you.”

You felt a little tense then, the energy suddenly seeming to shift as Gojo wore an expression that you swore was hungry. And, god, how tempted he was to make a bet with Nanami, wager a night with you— hell, even just ten minutes— as the prize for one of their weekly matches. And Nanami, being confident in his own ability, relying a little too heavily on his unbroken winning streak, might just be in a playful or arrogant enough mood to entertain Gojo’s little whims.

“Sure,” he’d reply, sarcastic and cocky. “If you can beat me, I’ll even let you have her in my bed.”

And that…

That would be just enough of a stake to seal the deal. To cause Gojo Satoru to become even more relentless than he normally was on the court against his oldest friend.

That would be the time Gojo finally won.

And he’d relish in making Nanami eat his overconfident words just before he’d drown in the pleasure of finally being able to have a taste of you— the one thing in the world he couldn’t buy for himself no matter how many figures his bank account secured.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you for the rematch next week,” Gojo shrugged, his predatory gaze morphing back into something light and unbothered, a look belonging to the Gojo you were more used to. After gathering his things, he gave you a playful little wave goodbye and said, “Don’t go easy on him now!” Nanami offered to walk Satoru out, but Gojo waved him off, saying, “I know my way out. Now teach her well so someday I can drag Megumi or Yuji or Nobara along and we can play doubles.” With a cheeky wink and a self-assured stride, Gojo Satoru was gone, disappearing beyond the manicured lawns and hedges and heading back to where his black Rolls Royce Phantom awaited him in the long, curving driveway.

“Can’t you let him win just once, Daddy?” you asked, some sympathy for Satoru’s defeat bleeding into your whine. “I’ll still think you’re the best at tennis even if he occasionally beats you…”

Nanami hummed out a note of amusement, beginning to guide you off to the side of the court where the extra rackets and tennis balls were kept. “And if I let him win, do you really think he’d be satisfied, sweetheart?” he asked you, pure adoration peppered with condescension lilting in his low, soothing voice. “Do you really think he’d accept a victory that he didn’t earn?”

No, you thought to yourself, Satoru would never claim a victory that he hadn’t earned fair and square. Because as carefree and frivolous as the man could be, he was equally cruel and competitive. He was good enough to outmatch anyone in almost anything, tennis included, just so long as that person wasn’t Nanami Kento. And though the two men were more evenly matched in their golf and swimming skills, it was, of course, the one game that Gojo had yet to best Nanami in that he was so hung up on.

“I guess you’re right,” you agreed with a shrug. As Nanami reached over to hand you your tennis racket— the light pink one he’d had custom made for you the moment you’d shown interest in learning— you took on a slightly more nervous tone and asked, words trembling a little towards the end, “But you’ll go easy on me, right?”

There was no way you’d survive a single one of Nanami’s vicious serves unless he dialed it way back. And he knew this just as well as you did. Not to mention he’d sort of been hoping you’d take interest in one of his hobbies eventually. That way, it would give him the perfect opportunity to spend more time with you, to leave work a little early or reschedule a boring meeting because it was almost time for his precious baby’s tennis lesson, and he just couldn’t be late. It also would be the perfect opportunity to put his hands all over you as he showed you the correct way to hold a racket or take a swing, his palms planted firmly on your hips as he helped correct your form, distracting you in the process of course, though once your lesson was over and he’d praised you for a job well done, the two of you fully intended on revisiting those more intimate parts of the lesson later in the bedroom.

“Of course, angel,” Nanami chuckled, grabbing up two extra water bottles from the mini fridge. “Don’t worry, you’ll be just fine. Besides, don’t I always take good care of my favorite girl?”

Especially because he wouldn’t want you to get frustrated and decide to quit. Oh no, he couldn’t have that. And while Gojo’s comment about playing doubles was probably a pipe dream, Nanami couldn’t help but fantasize about spending cool summer evenings out on the private home court with you once you’d gotten the hang of things, just gently hitting the ball back and forth with the sound of your bright laughter echoing over the net every time you successfully returned the ball to him.

But first thing was first. He had to teach you how to serve. So with your back against his chest and his hands taking purchase over where you held the racket, gently correcting your grip position at the start, Nanami led you through the basics of the swing.

“That’s it,” he encouraged you, allowing you to try a few times on your own. He grinned, impressed. “See, you’re a natural.”

You let out a proud giggle, wondering if maybe you’d end up having a knack for this after all, unlike golf, which was very technical, and swimming, which was very exhausting. Though, you’d always been one to get a little ahead of yourself. Because the ball hadn’t even been introduced into the equation yet.

In other words, the real test had yet to begin.

With Nanami now standing at the other end of the court, one of the fuzzy green tennis balls clutched in your manicured hand, you weren’t feeling quite as confident. You’d liked it better when he was guiding you, felt more capable with his expertise close and at the ready. Now, you feared you’d just forgotten nearly everything he’d taught you, your mind racing with questions of how to hold the racket properly and where to aim and, well, honestly you weren’t even sure if you’d be able to hit the ball successfully after tossing it up into the air.

“Whenever you’re ready, baby!” Nanami called over to you, and it was then that you steeled your resolve and reminded yourself that you could do this. You wanted to make your Daddy proud, wanted to hear him praise you when you did it right. You wanted to prove what a good student you could be for your teacher.

“Ok!” you called back, preparing to toss the ball up into the air. You didn’t throw it too high, though imagined how fun it would be to one day toss it as far above your head as you could, watching it plummet back down towards you with the confidence that you’d still be able to hit it across the net.

And even though your aim was a little off-center, you were still able to swing hard enough to send the ball over to Nanami, who lightly tapped it back to you, letting it bounce on the green once before you lunged forward to hit it back. You felt the ball make contact with your racket, and next thing you knew it was soaring over the net once more.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, your look of concentration splitting into an astonished grin. “I did it! I actually did it!”

Nanami returned the ball to you in the same gentle fashion, urging you to continue with the streak you two had going now. “See!” he said. “I knew you could!

But it then seemed your newfound confidence got the better of you because, though you leapt for the ball with everything you had, that time it was just too far out of your range. It passed you on the court and rolled until it hit the chain link fence.

“Ah, man!” you said, jogging to go after it, though you sounded more amused than disappointed.

“That’s alright!” Nanami called, casually walking closer towards the net so he wouldn’t have to shout as loud. “Just bring it here and we’ll try again.”

You grabbed the ball and tossed it towards him, Nanami reaching out to catch it in one of his sure, strong hands. “Do you want to try serving again?” he asked. “Or do you want me to serve?”

You took a moment to think about it, then smiled and replied, “I want you to serve now.”

Nanami returned a soft grin. “Alright, princess,” he said, both of you beginning to make your way back to your preferred places on your respective sides of the court.

“Don’t forget to go easy!” you called over, a playful giggle trailing off the end of your reminder.

“I dunno…” Nanami teased, a hint of mischief present in his voice. “I think you might be ready for a little more of a challenge.”

But, in the end, he was still nice about it. The serve came towards you in a controlled, soft arc, though when you returned it that time it was with a little more fervor, the power behind your stroke increasing just enough to wake Nanami up from his gentle daydreams, the lull provided by the balmy, early summer evening breaking upon the next cool breeze that wafted through the gardens.

The two of you practiced hitting the ball back and forth for another hour or so until you grew tired, your perfect white sneakers beginning to scuff and drag a little across the court, your swing becoming a little sloppier as fatigue caused your concentration to slip. But you didn’t want to call it a day until you’d managed to make Nanami miss the ball just once.

Similar to Gojo, it seemed you had some unrealistic fantasies of your own.

So, after asking you a few times if you wanted to be done for the day and you saying one more round despite how exhausted you clearly were, Nanami drew this conclusion and decided that, if he was going to let anyone beat him, it was going to be you.

“Why don’t you serve this time?” he suggested, sending the ball back your way. You let it roll off to the side a bit before going to retrieve it, and then, hoping he maybe wouldn’t catch onto your plan until it was too late, you tossed the ball up into the air, careful and soft like you’d been doing thus far but, that time, when you swung, you hit it as hard as your arms could muster, letting out your first real tennis grunt from the unexpected exertion.

And while the strength behind the swing was still nothing in comparison to either Nanami or Gojo’s, it still caught Nanami by surprise, caused him to hesitate just a split second too long. He went to lunge after the ball, originally intending to miss it on purpose, but when he found himself instinctually trying to hit it back only to miss it by accident…

Gojo would never believe it.

He looked behind him as it bounced out of bounds and rolled to meet the fence, and though technically the victory wouldn’t have counted in a real match, he certainly wasn’t going to tell you that. Not with the way you were jumping with joy on the other side of the net, squealing and giggling as you came running his way as if you’d just summoned magic for the first time.

“Did you see that?!” you asked, nearly crashing into his arms as you met him on his side of the court, your pretty pink tennis racket forgotten on the side you’d scored your first point against him from, the sorbet glow of the setting sun staining everything in sight with rich golds and brilliant tangerine oranges. “I can’t believe I actually did that! Did you see? Did you see?!”

Nanami dropped his racket and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for a hug and sweeping you off your feet a bit as he spun around with you in his arms. “I saw it, baby,” he assured you, placing a kiss to the crown of your head. “You were great.”

And when you looked up at him, arms still secured around his waist, wearing that look that was just dripping with pure love and devotion, eyes practically sparkling with it, Nanami had half a mind to lower you both to the court and celebrate your first successful tennis lesson a little early.

“I couldn’t have done it without such an amazing teacher,” you told him, nuzzling your cheek against his chest, both of you warm and dewy with a thin sheen of sweat. “But I had a lot of fun! Can we practice again tomorrow?”

Nanami let out a chuckle, the richness of it rumbling through his chest, velvety and sonorous. He swept you up in his arms, intending to carry you all the way back to the house, all the way up to the master bedroom. He said, “Of course, sweetheart. But first, a victory dinner is in order, don’t you think?”

You hummed out a pleasant note, that beaming smile of yours not faltering, though now something a little more devious snaked its way into your narrowing gaze. “Can the victory dinner involve going out for ice cream after?” you asked.

Nanami let out a sigh, though couldn’t wipe the grin off his face even as he shook his head a little and reluctantly replied, “Alright, I suppose you’ve earned it.”

But after that, once your sweet tooth had been satisfied and the exhaustion from the day crept back in to claim you, Nanami would be sure to collect his own prize. And once he was done with you tonight, well…

You might want to take a break from practicing tomorrow after all.

♡♡♡

(Hiiii everyone and thank you so much for reading! Honestly I’ve been thinking about my sd!Nanami from this au for so long now I just had to write a lil something for him and this is just what came to mind! I also can’t wait for summer, so I’m spending most days just dreaming about that lol. Anyway, I hope you’re all doing wonderful and remembering to take care of yourselves! See you next time, byyyyye~!)

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bvbygrl-writes · 18 days

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18 + That is your warning so stop reading. Imagine being an absolute slut for your bodyguard Bucky even though your very much so dating Steve.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you" Steve snarled, picking up his pace while you hiccupped, "You filthy fuckin' slut, you worked up and down on his cock didn't you, I'm the only one who gets to fuck you like this"

“But I love riding his dick daddy” You wailed while bouncing on Steve's cock, biting you lip, your eyes rolling back thinking about how Bucky stretched you open like a whore, splitting you in half. "I wan Bucky's cock" You sobbed, sounding needier than ever and it made Steve leak.

"Fuck sugar, that right? You're that much of a desperate slut, you want my best friends cock?"

"Uh-huh" you nodded, nearly going cross eyed, making an utter mess all over the dark blond curls at the base of Steve's cock. He didn't stop his harsh thrusts as the door clicked open, your body guard striding into the office, his cock already rock hard.

"Hey pretty girl" Bucky cooed, smirking at how cockdrunk you were while he rounded he corner of the desk to where you were splayed across Steve's lap where he sat in his office chair. He traced your pouty bottom lip before slipping his thumb into your mouth, humming in satisfaction at the way you sucked it, moaning around the metal digit.

"Go on, finish what I started" Steve nodded while you squeaked as Bucky picked up you up effortlessly off of Steve's cock, and tossing you over his shoulder.

"Need my cock, huh Bambi, that all?" Bucky's wide palm rubbed your sore ass where Steve had spanked you, turning over to place a quick kiss onto the hot skin before laying you down on the table. You let out a needy moan at the sound of his belt hitting the floor, so deep in subby space, spreading your legs extra wide as he pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock.

"Look at that, such a good girl, spreading her legs for me" Bucky leaned over to take a good look at you, your dazed expression and wiggling hips making his balls impossibly heavy. "Wanna show Steve how well you take my cock baby? Show him how I make you moan and cum, n'how I play with that cute little button between your legs?"

"Mph, Bucky please" You whined, pouting at the disappointed tsk Bucky made.

"That's not what you call me Bambi, c'mon, whose cock do you want, say it"

"Fuck me, Sergeant-OH-MY-GODD" You cried out as Bucky slammed into you, setting in a brutal pace without waring, your body bouncing against the desk as he gripped onto your hips.

"That's-it-good girl-good. fucking. girl" Bucky snarled through gritted teeth, slamming your body down onto his cock, his head thrown back, moving one hand to wrap around your neck. He was too enamored with you to notice the way Steve's hand was wrapped around his cock, working his swollen, silky tip, watching his pretty princess take his best friend like her life depended on it.

Bucky spat right onto your clit, rubbing tight circles around you with a feral look on his face feeling you squeeze around him, bending your thighs up till they hit your chest, hitting a deeper angle.

"Feel that? M'so deep in your pussy baby, s'fuckin' deep, can feel your little clit throbbing, it's all swollen huh Bambi, you're soaking my cock, make a mess all over it princess, it's all yours"

"Sergeant-gonna-I-" You couldn't forumalte words, tears streaming down your face and falling onto the desk under you, the band in your belly ready to snap-

"You gonna cum for my best friend babygirl?" Steve's focus was locked in at where Bucky was connected to you, watching his cock slam in and out of your tight cunt, stretching you wide open, his own cock growing impossibly harder, "Fuck, you're a dirty slut, I'm gonna-fuck m'cumming" Steve's voice was breathless, his chest heaving as he worked his cock faster, eyes rolling back as white streams of cream decorated his black shirt, nearly shooting to his beard. "Holy shit"

"BUCKY M'CU-UMINGG" You wailed, your back arching off the table, screaming with every muscle in your body pulled taught. You couldn't tell where your orgasm began or where it ended, unending waves of pleasure drowning you while Bucky began to chase his own.

"Cum for your Sergeant baby, that's it, such a good girl, you make my cock so hard Bambi, y'feel so good, not gonna last, shittt-HNG" Bucky let out a guttural moan, not giving a fuck that Steve was right there, pumping you full of his cum until his balls were empty and his cock was soft. He tucked himself back in his pants before removing his shirt to wipe you down and picking you up, letting you wrap yourself around him like a koala. Your boyfriend followed closely behind, smirking at the needy noise you made, checking to see that Steve was also coming for some post sex naps, sighing contently when you saw him following near by.

"Off to bed, Bambi"

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