- dilf!nanami kento looooves when you grab him by the collar n kiss him silly before work.. he’s so hot n heavy thinking about u during his shift!

- dilf!nanami kento who can’t stand when you don’t use his card.. after all, he goes to work to please you! seeing the credit card statement after you go on a shopping trip makes him go feral :3

- dilf!nanami kento who loves to slow dance with you in the kitchen, late at night, after work.. the kitchen’s only source of light being the moon shining through the windows. he’s freakishly good at dancing, laughing when you step and stumble over his feet trying to match his pace.

- dilf!nanami kento isn’t a fan of tattoos, but has your initials and wedding date tatted on his arm, a reminder of his devotion to you.

- dilf!nanami kento who’s very insecure about being older than you, feeling shy n embarrassed anytime he has to be around your family. you just have to remind him how much you love him at home…

-dilf!nanami kento who’s only purpose in life is to please you. you don’t even bother lifting your head from your pillow when he’s going down on you, he’s bound to just pull your hair anyway.

-dilf! nanami kento who needs to be touching you in some way in order to relax n fall asleep.. he can’t stand not being next to you.

bzz. bzz. 

Higuruma was absently spinning in his chair, his blazer discarded onto another one of the chairs in the office. He was having difficulty focusing on anything, his thoughts forming and melting with the heat overwhelming the room. The buzz of his phone almost blended into the rumbling of the air conditioning, which was doing a poor job at fighting the summer heat. 

bzz. 

Higuruma’s eyes lazily drifted along to where his phone was face up on his desk, peeking just underneath some papers. The rest of his body slowly followed as he leaned back and kicked his heel against the floor to propel himself to the desk. 

| babe ❦   sent a photo 

| babe ❦   sent a photo 

| babe ❦   sent a video 

His expression didn’t shift a fraction… besides the slight bob of his Adam’s apple up and down in his throat and his pupils dilating as they finished scanning the contents of what you sent. 

2 photos of you in new black, lacy lingerie. One selfie from the top-down, one in the mirror with your back deliciously arched as you leaned forward, and another video of you suggestively sucking a lollipop, then trailing it down your body, pushing and teasing at the lace of the lingerie. A video Higuruma watched once… twice… then he clicked his phone shut, lackadaisically gathering himself from his chair and standing up, letting it spin as he collected his belongings. 

“Lunch break.” He said to nobody in particular, dismissing himself from the office.

⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊

You hadn’t even gotten the chance to give him the show that you had planned when he opened the door to your room. 

He had you backed up into the bedroom desk in 3 long strides, his big hands easily lifting you up onto the desk and moving the cloth out of the way as he crouched down and buried his face into your heat. 

A breathless moan left you as your hand flew down to his hair. “Nghh–babe!” You tried to pull him away and it took a couple more swirls of his tongue through your folds before he hesitantly parted from your lingerie-clad crotch. 

His lips were swollen and wet and his gaze was fixed entirely on you once he decided he had it in him to lift his head. “Yes?” He asked, his long fingers still playing along the lace of your panties, sneaking under and running over the hot skin there. 

“I thought you… were supposed to be working.” You let out with taxed breaths, gulping a little at the way he was still moving his hands and looking at you very intentionally. 

It was stupid. You sent him those photos and the video expecting him to maybe sneak off into the bathroom during work and send you something himself. It was easier than asking him to start sending you stuff like that. A rather harebrained plan, you realized just then. 

“I thought you wanted me here. With you.” He replied quite simply. Your face turned a violent shade of red as you looked away for a moment to avoid his gaze, which was dedicated entirely to you in this moment. 

“I–yes, but…”

“But?” He leaned into you, his breath hot against your collarbone, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses slowly up the column of your neck. 

“Nothing.” You said weakly as your fingers tightened in his hair. It felt embarrassing asking for more than what he was already giving you. 

He pulled back, eyes searching yours intently. He’s perceptive, a little too perceptive for your liking. One corner of his mouth lifts up in a small, lazy smirk as his eyes rake over you before meeting yours again. “Darling, you know better than to try that with me.”

You feel the heat flush up your neck, coloring your cheeks as you look at him. You weren’t used to being in a relationship with someone so… attentive. But you found it hard to break your gaze away from his, boring into yours yet encouraging you to speak. He let you wallow in your silence until you eventually spoke up quietly. 

“I didn’t mean for you to leave work–not that I don’t want you here, I do! I really do–I just… I.. maybe… thought you could send me something too?” Those last words leave your lips in a rushed and embarrassed fashion, and you look down as you bite your lip. 

You hear Higuruma breathe a chuckle. 

He doesn’t make you look at him. “I’m sorry, love.”

You look up at him, opening your mouth to retort, but before you can, his eyes have this fondness that his fingers follow with as they caress their way up to your stomach. 

“It was so hot in that office.” He drawled out, his words slow and sweet. He pulled you down from the desk, stepping backwards while holding your hands, eyes raking over your body with no reservations as he continued to speak. “Couldn’t think properly when I saw you like that, pretty girl.” 

He spun you around gently, holding you by the waist as he had you facing the full-body mirror in your room. “See what I mean?” You gulped; the sight was a dream. The lights in the room were off, but the golden rays of the hot sun were reflecting off where they fell on the floor, spilling in stripes onto your bare skin and burning through your see-through lingerie. 

“Mmm, I rest my case.” Higuruma rumbled, standing casually behind you, imposing and tall, his fingers trailing up and down your sides, the sun in the room casting a dreamy backlight over him. The golden dust of the room danced lazily around the both of you as you stood there in the mirror. 

Higuruma snuck a hand down, fingers easily slipping underneath the lacy lingerie and pressing down on your clit, causing you to press your thighs together. “‘romi…” You breathe out an airy moan.

“No, pretty girl.” He said nonchalantly, a hand moving to push your thighs apart while the other continued rubbing your clit. 

“Is this how you were going to touch yourself?” He quickened his movements, his fingers moving frantically against your clit, his voice the extreme opposite of his movements. “Hm?”

“Stop teas–ah!” You can hardly speak as his fingers rub quick circles over your swollen clit, still wet from his mouth. 

He chuckled, then he placed a hand onto your back, his fingers lazily spread out. He pushed forward, and you gave in, bending forward in front of him, your hands holding onto either side of the mirror. 

“You can watch while I give you what I can for now, right?” He said nonchalantly as he unzipped his slacks, and you felt his cock bounce up to your entrance. “I’ll make sure to fulfill your request on my own time.” He guided it with one hand, his other softly gripping your chin and pulling you back. 

“I…” You’re at a loss for words, but he doesn’t give you much time to respond anyways as he guides himself into you, pushing the lingerie to the side with his fingers, and bottoms out in one swift motion. 

“Fuck.” He groans quietly into your ear. 

He starts to slowly thrust, his head bent down as he watches you take him. 

“Ha–babebabe wait.” You try to say, your hand flying up to his head, gripping onto his hair a little harder than you intended. It makes him let out another soft groan, his hands moving to easily lift you up off the floor. He spreads you wide open for him, hands settled under your thighs, and you can hardly look in the mirror. 

“Oh fuck you feel so good.” He practically whimpers as he starts fucking into you harder now. His finger finds your clit, reaching over from where he holds you under your thigh. 

“‘romi s-slow down.” 

“I thought you said to stop teasing?” He asks breathily as he fucks you, either unaware or uncaring of how he hardly gave you time to adjust to his thick cock pounding up into you. 

 ⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.𐙚 ̊

a/n  new account hello world i love higuruma i imagine that he daydreams quite a bit 

first time writing smut for the world to see (im so fucking scared and i realized i switched tenses halfway through its a mess )

… i also wrote a lot more than i intended to. got a little carried away i think i should start labeling when it’s fluff or angst im not rlly familiar with this stuff yet 

⋆˚ ࿔ ⋮ ⌗ hiromi with a chatterbox lover ᛝ dividers ; @/pixopix ☆

the only sound that's present at the very moment is the occasional usage of the fountain pen scratching against the surface of the papers upon the desk, along with the book pages being flipped one after another every once in a while.

his dark-coloured eyes never once leave the assigned tasks at hand, paying little to no attention toward anything else— relishing into the easeful atmosphere that's currently being provided.

but of course, you exist within the same space as him as well, patently lost within your own headspace as hiromi tries his best to keep up with whatever you're telling him, sparing several glances of pure attentiveness toward you.

you surely have something to say as always, not that he complained though. in fact, it somewhat helps him in gaining more needed ideas regarding to a certain topic or so, unknowingly assuaging his own mood in all honesty.

"each cloud weighs like, around a million tonnes with some density around 1.003 kilograms— imagine if we're able to ever lie atop of them!"

"mhm, is that so?"

he almost absent-mindedly replied. "how then?"

"oh, you know—" you motioned with your hands as you explained in a rather emphasizing way, to which hiromi manages to catch onto one of your hands without sparing any look at you just yet, pulling you closer to him in the process.

"they're like those exclusive fluffy beds! just imagine it in a metaphorical sense!"

you added onto your previous statement, eventually being settled on his lap comfortably; unexpectedly receiving a direct peck upon your lips so sweetly once you're momentarily done with your own little rambles.

it causes the cell wires in your brain to instantenously short circuit by itself, warmth rushing to coat your cheeks oh-so-pleasantly, eyes widening ever so slightly for him to witness.

the mere sight successfully pulls out a rather satisfied chuckle out of him.

with what little courage you've gathered from your own flustered state, you sent him a small glare which clearly says 'what's that for?'. it didn't really help your case when the male brushes his lips on the corner of your lips once again, albeit in a teasing manner.

all that with him murmuring the words of— "i'm just collecting the data from you, sweetheart."

a series of giggles escaped from you not too long after when hiromi, cheekily so, have just decided to give your poor heated face several smooches here and there, all genuinely out of his adoration for you. his previous assigned tasks forgotten for the nonce.

why is it so hard for him to contain himself around you? you can keep rambling all of those random facts and he would never ever get tired of it.

the three of you are crammed into the corner booth of some dingy bar that plays jazz too loud and waters down their whiskey, but nobody cares because the bottle on the table is already half empty and nanami’s tie is loosened, hanging crooked against his chest in a way you never get to see.

higuruma is worse off, elbow propped on the table, cheek propped in his hand, watching the amber liquid swirl in his glass like it holds the secrets of the universe. his eyes look softer, heavier-lidded, prone to drifting toward you and then away, like he’s embarrassed to be caught looking.

nanami chuckles at something you say— a warm sound that makes your stomach flip— and higuruma’s lips curve into this slow, pleased smile. you love them. you love them so much it sits heavy in your chest, thick and sweet as honey. and maybe it’s the whiskey, maybe it’s the way the dim light catches the sharp line of nanami’s jaw or the elegant slope of higuruma’s throat when he tilts his head back to drain his glass, but something reckless and wonderful bubbles up in you.

“let’s make this interesting,” you say, and both of them turn to look at you with matching expressions of amused curiosity. you point between them, finger wobbling slightly. “i dare you two to kiss.”

higuruma blinks, setting his glass down. “i’m sorry?”

“you heard me.” you’re grinning now, all teeth and tipsy courage. “i want to watch. just—” you gesture vaguely, “—once. for me. please?”

nanami exhales through his nose, something between a laugh and a sigh. he looks at higuruma. higuruma looks at him. there’s a beat of silence where the jazz seems to swell around you, and then higuruma shrugs, one shoulder lifting in a gesture of elegant resignation.

“well,” he says, “she did say ‘for me.’”

nanami’s brow lifts. “that’s your rationale?”

“do you have a better one?”

nanami doesn’t answer. instead, he reaches out, slides his hand along the back of higuruma’s neck and pulls him in.

it’s not tentative or experimental or any of the things you might have expected from two men who’ve never done this before. it’s sure and slow and intimate, nanami’s thumb brushing along higuruma’s jaw, higuruma’s fingers curling into the loosened knot of nanami’s tie to steady himself.

they kiss like they’ve been doing it for years and they’ve been waiting for permission, and you watch with your heart lodged somewhere in your throat, your hands curled into fists on the sticky tabletop because you don’t know what to do with the want flooding through you.

they’re beautiful. nanami’s glasses fog slightly from the warmth between them, and higuruma makes this tiny sound— just a breath, really— that nanami swallows. when they finally part, it’s slow, reluctant, their foreheads resting together for a moment before they remember you’re there.

they turn to look at you, and their eyes are dark, hungry in a way that makes your breath catch.

“your turn,” higuruma murmurs, his voice rougher than it was a minute ago.

you barely have time to process before nanami’s hand closes around your wrist and tugs you bodily across the sticky vinyl, pulling you into the space between them. higuruma’s fingers find your chin, tilting your face toward him, and then his mouth is on yours— tasting like whiskey and something sweeter, something that might just be him. his kiss is precise and before you can get lost in it, nanami’s hand turns your face the other way and he’s kissing you too, slower, deeper, his thumb stroking along your cheekbone like he’s soothing you even as he steals your breath.

they take turns with you, trading you back and forth like like something they both want to savor. higuruma’s laugh is warm against your lips when you make a sound of protest at being passed over too quickly. nanami’s hum of approval vibrates through you when you clutch at both of them, trying to hold on.

when you finally break apart, all three of you breathing hard, the bar seems impossibly far away. the jazz is just noise. the whiskey is forgotten. there’s only the two of them, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen, and the weight of their hands on you—higuruma’s on your thigh, nanami’s warm against the back of your neck.

“well,” higuruma says, a little breathless, a little smug, “that escalated.”

nanami huffs, pressing his forehead to your temple. “she started it.”

“i absolutely did,” you manage, voice thin and wanting.

higuruma mouth twitches at the corners. “worth it, though.”

and nanami, pressing a kiss to the hinge of your jaw, murmurs, “completely.”

reiner’s tired, exhausted, even. exhausted from the burdens he has, exhausted from his responsibilities, from his guilt, from almost everything. memories keep replaying in his head, all of the deaths he’s responsible for, and how he’s leading the next generation of warriors.

his feet tread heavily up the stairs as he looks down, ashamed of his past actions. his hand reaches out, halting on the doorknob of your shared quarters before letting out a sigh and opening the wooden door.

you barely hear the recognizable creak of the door before strong arms wrap around your waist, and reiner places a soft kiss on your cheek.

“how was work?” you whisper, comfortingly rubbing his arm up and down, knowing he won’t respond.

a soft grunt leaves him, and he begins to strip himself of his work clothes, replacing them with a loose-fitting long-sleeve shirt and comfortable sleep pants. the shirt reveals his collarbones and his almost-sickly pale skin, though he tries not to draw attention to it.

he situates himself beside you on the bed, arm slung over your waist, and leg slung over yours. he pulls you closer to him with ease as he rests his head on your chest, right where your heartbeat is.

your hands find their way to his tufts of blonde hair, and he lets out a groan when you run your hands through them. soft mumbles escape his lips as his eyes close, and you questioningly hum.

“missed you today,” he mumbles, nuzzling his face further into your neck in embarrassment.

you try to fight back a smile, “i missed you too, reiner,” you mumble, kissing his forehead, “my sweet boy.”

a quiet whimper escapes his lips as his hands grasp you with a different intensity, and you let out a soft chuckle as you gently scratch up and down his back.

with each thump-thump of your heartbeat, reiner’s breath evens out more and more until he’s knocked out, cheek pressed against your chest with a soft pout on his face.

his eyelashes flutter as if he’s dreaming about something, and he’s already quietly mumbling your name, with something along the lines of “love you.”