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Sit Still [Jujutsu Kaisen]

an: a huge thanks to my bestie and wifey-to-be, @tired-biscuit, for supplying the thirstiest of thoughts ^^

prompt: cockwarming is such a simple pleasure with your handsome fella...

feat: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Itadori Yuji & Fushiguro Megumi

warnings: cockwarming (obvs), lil nipple play, semi public, teasing, implied sex

Masterlist

Gojo Satoru

A hand spreads your thighs further part.

Nothing escapes that man, and the way your legs had been inching closed was halted by the warm palm on your bare flesh. Fingers kneading, clearly enjoying the little indentations made into your yielding softness.

"You think I don't notice baby?" he murmurs in your ear.

Gojo's warm breath sends shivers skittering across your dewy sweat-slicked skin.

How long had you sat here? How long had it been since he had impaled you on his thick cock and let you suffer?

You both loved and hated it; loved how full you felt, stuffed completely with that deliciously curved and girthy dick, but hated the absence of repeated friction and the static limbo you were imprisoned in.

“S-satoru,” you whined, practically throwing your head against his strong shoulder - a shoulder that was still clothed, unlike you.

The snowy-haired male was fully dressed, except for his cock that escaped through his lowered zip. You, on the other hand, had been stripped of your skimpy sundress the moment he laid his eyes on you.

“Uh-oh - using my full name? Am I in trouble baby? Call me Toru, you know how much I prefer it from your lips.”

Satoru ghosted his mouth over your pulse, sweeping across your shoulder and down your back as far he could reach without moving.

He gifted you one - precisely one - circle of his hips and you near exploded. A hand flew to hold his white locks as the other turned white with how tightly you gripped his arm.

It almost felt like you could sense his heartbeat throbbing through his dick, twitching in that annoyingly erratic rhythm and causing your cunt to clench tighter and tighter.

“Please Toru, want you to fuck me!”

He hummed softly, the weight of his celestial eyes seared into your soul despite how little you could see from your position on his lap. Gojo picked up his phone that lay idly on the couch cushions.

“If you can make it through my phone call with Geto without moving, I’ll give you everything you want and more.”

You could scream, pound your fists on his chest in frustration but goddammit you wanted to be good for him. The meek nod pleased him as the quiet chuckle brushed against your nerves.

“That’s my good girl - now sit still.”

Nanami Kento

You had done this a hundred times, and yet it still felt as fresh as the very first.

Nothing could ever make you feel unaffected by the way Nanami’s warmth spread throughout your body.

It was early, you should be finishing your morning routine before heading to work, but instead you were in Nanami’s home office.

The tight grey pencil skirt that you knew he adored was hiked around your waist, panties slipped to the side and your cunt stretched around your man’s cock.

A finger toyed with your clit, a mere swipe of the pad that tickled at your sensitive bud while he read the morning paper.

You tried to focus on the words, tried to follow the articles but you couldn’t find the desire to care, not when you felt this good.

Kento pressed a kiss to your temple, pleasure dancing in your veins as dopamine flooded you. Your nose pressed into his neck, inhaling his spicy scent and mewling from the little jolt caused by the turning of the page.

“Kento, please.”

It was a dance at this point, a well-rehearsed two-step.

You would whine and beg Kento to have mercy, to give you the good morning fuck that you craved to help you make it through the day without murdering a colleague.

He would allow you to sink onto his equally as eager erection under the guise of it being a small inconvenience. Culminating in Nanami finally snapping, pressing you flush against the desk as he pounded your gushing cunt until you were both spent and breathless.

The paper fluttered to the desk, a hand wrapped around your delicate throat. Finger and thumb pressed into each cheek until your mouth popped open into a surprised ‘o’.

Your heart rate accelerated from this change in proceedings, slick escaped from your sopping hole, drenching your thighs and most likely ruining Kento’s expensive slacks.

His faint smile pressed against your neck, followed by a hot tongue laving a path across your pulse and up to your ear.

“Hmm, sweetheart. I think you’ve gotten a little too used to getting your way with me, I think it’s time to remind you that I am not always a merciful man.”

You tried to squirm, to find the friction that he was daring to deny you, but you were held fast by strong arms.

“Sit still sweetheart. I’ve got work to do.”

Itadori Yuji

Pink hair, soft and damp around the edges falls to your breast. The guttural groan of Yuji’s orgasm lingers in the air, mingling with the heavy scent of sex.

Your cunt continues to clench in an attempt to milk him dry, a combination of yours and his arousal trickling out to coat your thighs and soil the sheets below.

Your descent back to earth is slow, the blissful weightless sensation better than any other adrenaline-pumping activity you could think of.

The twitch of Yuji’s well-endowed manhood made your thighs spasm, toes curling into his tight butt.

Nothing could beat the feeling of cradling your adorable beau to your body as only a lover could. Dainty digits scratched against his scalp whilst the other hand drew patterns on his rippling back.

“Mm, babe. Fuck - you feel so good. Never wanna leave,” he groans into your chest, his cheek nuzzling your sensitive skin.

Itadori seems content to remain buried in your warmth, happy to stay joined as his nose rubbed against your nipple.

“Yuji,” you moaned, every nerve ending screaming from the start of overstimulation.

Insistent lips latched around your pebbled peak, a hot tongue swirls around the flesh until a string of saliva connected his mouth to your skin as he pulled back to gaze at you.

“Sssh,” he cooed, giving a soft thrust to remind you that he was still very much hard and willing to use his cock to fuck you dumb, “just wanna feel you a little longer.”

The warmth in your belly returns at full force, Yuji repeats his ministrations on your other nipple but this time biting gently at your flesh.

You want to writhe, to buck your hips and create that sense of urgency that might spur your beau into another round. Anything to end this stalemate, the weight of his presence in your cunt is addicting and mania-inducing.

“Baby, please. Need you to move - aah.”

You gasp as he tugs on either nipple in tandem, hands holding you against the mattress to restrict your every attempted movement.

Yuji is lost in his need to feel you around him, how snug he is embraced in your heat, how utterly loved he feels from your rapid pants and the way you tug at his hair. The desperation to lace your voice makes him want to roll his eyes to the back of his skull, but he won’t.

His hazelnut eyes watch your face, loving every expression that paints across the pretty surface. The blush of your cheeks increases until you are bright red and sweaty. The poke of your tongue through clenched teeth and the completely fucked out glaze of your eyes.

Yuji could do this all day if you let him, and he certainly wanted to for at least a little while longer.

“So pretty for me, stay still and let me feel you.”

Fushiguro Megumi

It’s a dangerous game, one you never thought Megumi would be up for playing, but here you were.

The room was dark, the only light emitted from the projector screen taped against the far wall.

You tried to remember the plot of the movie, to follow along with what was happening but it was impossible.

Open-mouthed kisses spread out from your cheek down to your shoulder, dark spiky hair obscuring part of your view as Megumi showered you in affection.

You rutted your hips, only an inch but it was enough for the almost silent groan to echo from the depths of his chest. A chest that was pressed flush against your back as he held you steady in his lap.

Teeth latched on your ear, tugging the lobe before a strained and quiet voice flowed inside.

“That was naughty, kitten. Do you want to get caught?” he asked, and the very idea of one of your friends turning their attention to the sofa that only you two occupied made your cunt clench.

The sharp inhale of breath was more audible this time, and you fought to squirm against the hold that was tightening with every passing second.

Megumi’s thick cock rubbed deliciously against your front walls, turning the dial up on how feral you were becoming.

Your man was too perfect, too adept at turning you on with the merest flick of his wrist. Fushiguro was not one for big flashy moves and he certainly did not need them when a slow, almost imperceptible smile and a crook of a finger was enough to turn you to putty in his hand.

Had you been alone you would be rutted against him as if you were a damn feline in heat. Mewled and leaned for what you needed and that was to be fucked out on his impressive dick.

Instead, you tried to steady your breathing. Tried to ignore how every minuscule movement was ticking you closer to forgetting to give a fuck that others were present.

Fingers splayed beneath the hem of your skirt, the graze of the pad against your aching clit was enough to make you bite your lip until the iron tang of blood hit your tongue.

Warm breath fanned your cheek, lips so close to your ear that they tickled.

“Make it through the movie, kitten. Then I promise I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk straight, okay?”

You could only nod, all words and use of your voice could not be trusted. It was imperative you last, that you make it through and receive your reward.

Megumi smiled against your pulse, nipping at the wild beat beneath the skin.

“That’s it, sit still.”

Just Call My Name, I'm Yours To Tame [Nanami Kento]

an: running late is Kento’s idea of hell, but even more so when you’re waiting for him. If he’s not careful, someone else might swoop in and try to steal you away, but you’d never go… right?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warning: unwanted attention from a male stranger, uninvited touching, pissed off Kento, implied violence (not involving reader), hasty sex, semi-public fucking, Kento wants to rub himself all over you

Masterlist

Kento hated running late, it wasn't a simple mild annoyance but a deep abhorrence at the lack of punctuality. It was his belief that if you had the manners to arrange to meet at a specific time, you should do everything to keep your word. He was an old soul, as you often teased him, and good manners cost nothing in his eyes.

Cursing the inept Gojo Satoru, a man meant to be his elder and ‘superior’, for being unable to write up his reports without assistance at every turn, he scowled and glanced at his watch once more. In his mind, he was concocting retribution befitting of his ego and idiocy, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips as he hurried along.

Thirty minutes late…

Oh, he wanted to claw at his skin. The discomfort of his lateness darkened his mood on an evening which was meant to be fun. He was meant to meet you at the small bar you had discovered a few weeks back, conveniently not far from his apartment which meant on that first fateful night it made tumbling home easy whilst you loosened his shirt and tie, and he left his mark on the skin of your collarbone.

Those tantalising memories had the grace to relieve the worst of the anger bubbling inside him like a volcano ready to erupt at any moment, thoughts of Gojo’s smirking face and the traffic that seemed intent on keeping him from you melted into the periphery. All he needed was to set his sights on your pretty face and all would be right again.

What he wasn’t expecting when he finally rounded the door to the bar, eyes scanning through the Friday night crowds, and what he absolutely did not need given his current temperament was to discover you being harassed.

His hand tightened into a fist, which he slowly released as he blew out a controlled breath. You were seated at your favourite section of the bar—close enough to the bartenders that drinks would never run dry but removed enough that quiet conversation was easy. Kento's glance cut to your outfit, much to his immediate shame, taking in the skirt that you knew was his very favourite and the sentiment was clearly shared by the man leaning in much too close.

Whilst he could see why this stranger admired your shapely legs, the soft spread of your thighs and the curve leading to generous hips, you were not enjoying the attention and he was far from being subtle in his interest. Any sane person could see that you were slowly inching away from him, but drunk on his poison of choice and probably a hefty dose of adrenaline given how often and fidgety his hand ran through his greasy hair, the man was ignoring your rebuff. Instead, he shuffled even closer with drool practically hanging from his open mouth.

His rising temper was curtailed by an unexpected hint of humour, his imposing frame blocked the entrance and left other patrons to squeeze around him rather than ask him to move whilst he observed your short, curt nods in response to the man's questions. Your entire stance, mannerisms, and the way you turned in your seat to give him your back all screamed 'fuck off' in the politest way possible. You were too good for him, far more restrained than he would be at the unwanted attention. It made him want to laugh, and that was far more welcome than the fury beating deeper in his heart.

You were no damsel in distress, but when the man reached out to touch the side of your knee, he knew it was time to announce his presence and put a stop to this pathetic display. Kento’s neck cracked from side to side, and he moved off with purpose from where he had been standing.

Discreetly you tapped your phone to life and glanced at the time, frowning at the continued absence of the man you were meant to be meeting. A low sigh eased past your lips as you continued to ignore your annoyingly persistent admirer. Kento was late and it just wasn't like him.

Worry was beginning to gnaw in the pit of your belly, only incited by the flashes of irritation at the man that you could only describe as a pervert. Not only had he seated himself despite you assuring him that it was taken, but he also openly leered at your chest and legs.

You wondered if you should call him, biting your lip in indecision and tapping anxiously at the green call symbol next to his name, but it was all for naught.

A figure caught your attention from the corner of your eye; blond perfectly parted hair, broad shoulders and an unreadable expression—Kento had arrived and was heading straight for you, his eyes burning holes into you.

You weren’t quite ready to throw yourself into his arms, although you were tempted if it finally gave this pest the hint he needed to beat it, but your thoughts were cut short by a clammy hand on your knee. Disgust rose in your throat at being touched without your consent.

The hand didn’t remain there long.

There was a muffled scream as your view of the unwanted admirer became obscured behind a broad back. His navy shirt looked close to breaking point as the threads at the seams strained to contain the strength of your beau, his biceps flexing whilst you were left to wonder exactly what he had done—although you could guess.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting, sweetheart. I was held up by an idiot," he soothed, finally turning to cup your chin in his large palm. His thumb stroked along your jawline as the other hand landed on the seated flare of your hip. His hold was firm, deft fingers sinking into your plush flesh and kneading you just how you liked.

You barely took note of the man leaving the bar with his hand cradled to his chest, the fingers looking bent into an unnatural position and very red. It was hard to care when you were caught fast in the snare of being able to breathe in the scent of your man. The only man that mattered, was the one looking at you with an expression you weren’t entirely familiar with.

"Where are we going?" you asked breathlessly. With one fluid movement, you allowed him to pull up from the seat and into the warmth of his body, his chest shielding you from those around who were turning to look your way.

"Home, sweetheart."

Except it wasn’t the complete truth. You found that out when your spine arched off the wall, shoulders digging into the brickwork as Kento held your weight around his waist as if it were nothing. With his zipper undone enough to allow his cock to slip free, and your underwear shoved roughly into the crease of your thigh, he took you like he never had before. He dropped you down onto him again with fervour, swallowing your whine and feeding you his own rumbling groan.

He was possessed with the need to reclaim you, to rub his scent across every bare inch of your skin and the desire couldn’t be contained. You were thankful for the shadow-polluted back alley running behind the bar. Eternally grateful that it wasn’t yet dark enough for the streetlights to illuminate the lewd scene in which you were playing a starring role. The shadows wrapped around the hunched form of Kento, his frame hiding you from sight except for your legs around his hips.

Rough, calloused hands smoothed your bare thighs, hiking your skirt even higher as he groped at you in desperation. It was so unlike him, to see him so raw and in need of you. Your cunt clenched around his hard length, rolling yourself to meet his frantic thrusts halfway, the haze of an impending orgasm dulling your senses down to the only one that mattered—the feel of him fucking up against your g-spot.

With your fingers entwined with his, dizzy and all too giddy from the quick hit of dopamine, you skipped along towards his apartment. The lazy, self-assured smile he wore had you clenching all over again, dancing closer to him and leaning up to press a kiss to the bobbing swell of his Adam’s apple.

You should have known that he wasn’t done, in fact, he wouldn’t be satisfied for some time to come. Kento let out a low roar like some feral beast the second the door slammed shut behind his back. Taking off like a drunk gazelle, you ran and he chased you down the hall to the shrieks of your laughter until he had you caged against yet another wall.

"Kento... you’re acting beastly!"

His answer was to open his jaw, teeth snapping around the slender column of your throat and his tongue working into the hollow. He nipped and bit his way around your throat, holding you in the cage of his arms without sign of release.

“I am a beast, darling. When it comes to you… I’ll never stop reminding you that I am the one you chose, and never stop proving exactly why you love falling into my bed.”

Chapter 1: The Flawless Performance

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

tw: professor/student dynamic, reader is 21, riled emotions, distrust towards reader, mentions of female masturbation, fantasising about her sexy professor, explicit content in all subsequent chapters

summary: You had been his favourite. It should have stayed that way, and Professor Nanami would realise the error of his ways one way or another.

Chapter 2 | Masterlist

“I think you’ll find, Sir…”

The rest of the sentence was obscured behind the wild pound of his pulse. Every nerve set ablaze by the sugary sweet voice that was the bane of his very existence. Strong fingers gripped the pen in his hold with renewed strength, feeling the give of the flimsy plastic as he crushed the life out of it. Splintering shards flooded his palm, and he had to fight every urge not to show the evidence of his ire.

A sea of faces stared down at him, a range of expressions from over-eager interest to downright blatant boredom, and among them–you stood out. It was impossible for his eyes not to swivel straight to where you sat, the same seat you always took. The one dead centre, ensuring that he would give you the majority of his attention–you demanded it after all.

Professor Nanami stared down his charges; long had he become disillusioned with the life of a teacher. It felt like an age had passed since he had considered himself eager to share his knowledge, now finding solace as the clock above the door ticked towards clocking off time more than anything else. There had been a time when he was fresh-faced and excited to encourage the next generation, but as everything else had in his life, the shine had worn off remarkably fast.

A haunted silence rang through his mind despite his awareness that you were still talking, not a word of it did he hear. His elbow braced upon the lectern he stood at, one foot crossed over his opposite ankle as if he were bored stiff. The ability to mask his emotions came in handy at moments such as this, although it was becoming increasingly difficult and he knew exactly what the reason was. 

Kento’s gaze wandered somewhat aimlessly around the slightly raised platform that he stood upon, searching for something to focus his attention, and it fell on his meticulously clean desk on the far side.

A desk that suddenly seemed wrong; his brow lowered in concentration as he focused on the cherrywood desk. He scrutinised every inch with his sweeping gaze, something was out of place and not being able to spot the oddity was only causing his wrath to grow. It wouldn’t be long until it consumed him, that ugly feeling spreading like a sickness throughout his body until it succeeded in darkening every corner.

There it was.

A vibrant pink pen with an unsightly fluffy pompom at the end lay across his open planner. He glared at it. He wished for nothing more than to set it ablaze with his eyes alone. This was not the first time he had seen this particular pen, it had a strange habit of appearing on random parts of his desk despite the numerous times he had disposed of it, and the wild thought of who this pen likely belonged to struck him right between the eyes.

The phoney cutesy voice was still going strong as he attempted to tune back in, your words dissecting every point he had made within the last forty-five minutes of his lecture. You wielded your words like a surgeon wields a scalpel. Nanami walked to his desk, each step of his feet sounded like an ominous thunderclap on the polished wood.

There was no other noise within the auditorium other than his footfalls and the incessant crucifixion of today’s lesson, he could sense the brewing storm that pressed heavily upon everyone present. It was evident from the way he watched students shuffle in their seats, that uncomfortable squirm that spoke of their wish to be able to escape the impending doom.

He reached the desk in a mere six paces and picked up the offending pen with his finger and thumb, holding it like it was something he’d rather not touch at all.

Wait, was that a falter in the diatribe being spouted?

Nanami rounded the desk until he could lock eyes with you, amused at how you had rushed to continue your speech. Hazel eyes stared directly into yours, he held your gaze as his fingers released the pen to fall to its death within his trash can, the clatter of the plastic meeting metal sounding far louder than it should.

At long last, you had come to the end of your admonishments, and a slow smile spread across his face. You didn’t need to know that he was literally biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself in line, very aware that if he were to act upon the wishes he had at this moment, he would lose his job in a heartbeat. The shocked expression that graced your pretty face was victory enough.

Whatever you had expected from him, it surely wasn’t this and he was filled with momentary satisfaction that was far too fleeting for his liking. It was not nearly enough to douse the flames of irritation, but enough to allow him to find his voice once more. Walking with considered steps he stood centre stage and brushed a hand through his slightly ruffled hair.

“And with that, ladies and gentlemen, my character assassination as a Professor is complete.”

Kento pressed his arm tightly against his front, bowing as if he were an actor in a play and the curtain had finally fallen. Tinkling awkward laughter rang through the room, and he took the opportunity to spread his arm towards where you sat. Your eyes widened in surprise, your mouth popped into a small ‘o’ that looked so damn appealing to him at that moment, and such a tight hold on the pen in your grasp that your fingers were visibly trembling.

“Why don’t you stand and take a bow? Such a wonderful performance as my assassin. Clearly, you know more about the subject than I, the Professor do.”

Silence.

All laughter died in the throats of the students as they twisted in every direction to get a look at the girl in question. It would be a lie to say that he didn’t feel sorry for you, but it was so insignificant in comparison to the months of harassment he had suffered through that it was easy to squash the feeling under his heel.

Some may think that his lacking compassion made him cruel. How wicked to toy with his students in this way, he must have no feelings or empathy, but this was far from the truth. He did care, despite his waning enthusiasm for his profession, he still wanted the best for the students that walked through his door. The only crime that Kento was guilty of was being consumed by his thoughts–thoughts that were far from pure and just.

His annoyance for the mental and emotional torture he had been put through by you was more than evident, but more importantly, it was his annoyance for letting himself get this riled up in the first place that bothered him the most. For allowing it to get this far without putting a stop to it–he held the authority to do so, and he worried for a second that a part of him might have sickeningly enjoyed it. Who in their right mind would be so depraved to have enjoyed what he had experienced?

Speaking of his tormentor, you slammed your open notebook closed with an echoing thud. The reverberation rattled at his nerves, and he ground down on his molars as you got to your feet to give a cute curtsey. Ever the brilliant actress, no one would ever suspect the evil mind that was housed within your angelic-looking head.

Damn you…

~

Professor Nanami, why do you snub me so? 

What changed, and why do I care more than I’d like?

It was always a challenge to interject into one of his lectures, despite the alarming regularity with which you did so. Everything about him was imposing; from his stature to his authoritative voice. It would be a lie to say you hadn’t found yourself staring at the broad frame of your business ethics professor on more than one occasion. Getting woefully lost in your mind at just how wide his shoulders were beneath the crisp button-ups that he always wore.

You remembered well the day at the beginning of the summer months, the one when the weather seemed intent on cooking everyone to a sizzling crisp. Reliving the memory of the mesmerising way he had rolled his sleeves to the elbows. Not only had it exposed his muscled forearms, the thick tendons pulled taut whilst his equally thick fingers worked the stiff fabric, but also the tawny complexion of his skin. 

How amusing that he should teach business ethics when you had long strayed into very unethical territory, but it wasn’t enough to stop you in your endeavours–not nearly enough. He deserved it after all, stringing you along only to cast you aside for seemingly no reason at all. Could you really call it stringing you along? 

If you thought about it rationally for even a second, you would likely conclude the insanity of the emotions that ruled your head but it was difficult when you manifested hearts in your eyes every time you walked through the hallowed doors of Professor Nanami’s lecture hall.

You weren’t some silly sixteen-year-old girl anymore, so why did it seem your emotional maturity regressed within his presence? From the very first moment you met him, you were hooked. Down so sickeningly bad that you went out of your way to impress him time and time.

Shrugging off the whispered sneers of “teacher’s pet”  and becoming top of the class with a lot of hard work and dedication to the subject matter. Weren’t you the perfect cliche; lusting after your handsome professor like some lovesick puppy? 

You tried to forget about your attraction, tried valiantly to socialise with your peers and find a man of your own age to fantasise about in the dead of night when your thighs tightened against the pillow shoved between them and your spine bowed off your lonely, single mattress.

It was always eyes of warming sun-kissed brown that pierced through the veil of your arousal. Hair the shade of harvest-ready wheat that you imagined buried at the apex of your thighs and the tick of his expensive timepiece that marched steadily onwards whilst the hand attached curled around your waist.

Kento…

You had learned his given name quite by accident, hearing another Professor address him by it when they both assumed they were alone and since then you had longed to whisper it in his ear. How perfectly it rolled off your tongue, the syllables melding together beautifully in the breathless way you exhaled it as you fell apart on your fingers, wishing they were his.

So, yes it was petty, and yes you knew it was wrong to torment him as you had been, but you weren’t going to stop. Not unless he forced you to, and that very thought was exhilarating. The battle of wits and resolve would continue until he saw the error of his ways, you were special and he should admit that to himself instead of shutting you out.

𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰. 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭 (𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘺) 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵–𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘉𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘎𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘞𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 (𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳, 𝘴𝘧𝘸)

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘩?

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘈 𝘎𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘐𝘯 𝘔𝘺 𝘛𝘶𝘣 (𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘧𝘸)

𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘩. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘸?

ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘛𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 (𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘭 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘴𝘧𝘸)

𝘈 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘺 𝘈𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 (𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘧𝘸)

𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰, 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺? 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭…

𝘈𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘈𝘵 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘳 (𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸)

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘖𝘧 𝘔𝘦𝘯 (𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳, 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴)

𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴. 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨?

𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘮 𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴 (𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳, 𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴)

𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘮. 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳… 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦?

ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘖𝘧 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘴𝘵 (𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘗𝘖𝘝 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘚𝘍𝘞)

𝘈 𝘒𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘈𝘵 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘊𝘰𝘴𝘵? (𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳, 𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴)

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰. 𝘈 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘭𝘥-𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵?

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘞𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦 (𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵)

𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦. 𝘐𝘵’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?

𝘚𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 (𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳)

𝘈 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥?

ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩 𝘛𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳 (𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘖𝘝 𝘰𝘧 𝘔𝘳𝘴 𝘔𝘤𝘎𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯 - 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰’𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘳)

𝘏𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘌𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘯 𝘜𝘯𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 (𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴)

𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰? 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥... 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘥?

𝘈 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘰 @satorini 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴.

𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘥! ₊˚⊹♡

Bath Time Gone Wrong [Part One]

an: a huge thanks to @satorini for the prompt that produced this. Let's see if this goes anywhere... it sure has potential.

prompt: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: none, SFW

Series Masterlist | Part Two

You couldn’t believe your luck. Not only was your friend clearly loaded, they had immaculate taste as well. All of this you might never have discovered if it hadn’t been for a miscommunication that left you with no place to stay over spring break.

It would be wrong to blame your parents for forgetting that you would be coming home for the two week break, instead arranging for the family home to be renovated whilst they cruised to goodness knows where, but you still felt that stab of disappointment and hurt in your gut. One phone call to confirm dates would have fixed that, but no, what was done was done.

Instead, you found yourself in a penthouse apartment that your friend from college said you could use as it was currently sitting empty. Those were Karin’s exact words, “Don’t worry about it, the place is empty anyways. May as well make the most of it!”

Whistling through your teeth, you did a slow 360 spin of the entranceway. 

The moment your Uber had pulled up outside the building you had an inkling that the inside was going to be luxurious, and you were dead right. The penthouse apartment on the very top floor needed a code and a swipe of a keycard to access by elevator. Your fingers fumbled on the keypad in your nervous excitement, only blowing out a breath of relief when you began to move smoothly upward.

As the doors opened, you found that the apartment was almost entirely open plan with panoramic windows of the cityscape lining the length of the wall in front of you. “Well, fuck…”  

The decor wasn’t quite minimalist, there were too many home comforts to allow for that, but everything was clean lines and muted colour palettes. The sprawling couch scattered with one too many throw pillows, a basket of neatly folded blankets of every type of thickness tucked into the corner and a lush potted plant with long spiky green leaves all added that homely touch that true minimalist apartments lacked.

It was spacious but oddly welcoming with a rich scent that permeated the air, French coffee and freshly baked bread. You wondered if there was perhaps a housekeeper or someone that stopped by every few days to keep the place ticking over.

That thought was how you found yourself exploring deeper into the apartment, searching for an occupied room or some sign of life. There were no noises to be heard, no telltale signs that a terrified housekeeper might pop out any moment and scare the bejeezus out of you. What you did find was several seemingly unused bedrooms in different colour schemes and what you assumed was the master bedroom.

What a sight.

The bed dominated the majority of the room, a thick grey duvet adorned with pillows and a turned down fleece lined blanket on top. What kind of luxury lifestyle did Karin live that she had this kind of place stashed away, unused?

Perhaps you should have peeked inside the closets or the walk-in wardrobe at the very least, but you were drawn like the proverbial moth to a flame by the enticing peek of an en-suite bathroom.

Dumping your small wheelie suitcase and hold-all by the bed, you scurried towards the pristine black and white marble decorated room. It was safe to say you were giggling like an idiot, hands clapping together at the generously sized tub and did it have jets too? Oh my gosh, it did!

In your pure unfiltered joy, you found some jasmine scented bubble bath tucked away behind the bathroom mirror, completely overlooking the men’s razor and bottle of expensive cologne that sat beside it.

A bath would be exactly the thing to begin your new adventure. You could soak, shave your legs, listen to some music and contemplate what you could get up to with your two weeks here. Oh, takeout! You could order something super decadent and pretend that this was actually your place for a little while. 

The possibilities were endless. 

You set your phone up in the bathroom, finding a favourite playlist and blasting the music louder than you would have done back home. No one would mind, you were alone and the noise surely wouldn’t filter to any of the apartments below.

This was going to be an amazing spring break, you could feel it.

Kento was tired. What was new?

A weary hand passed over his face as he examined his reflection in the elevator mirror. Has he always looked this tired? Maybe.

He exhaled as the doors opened into his apartment, but only two steps forward told him that something was not right. Nothing had been touched or moved in the living area or kitchen, yet an unfamiliar scent mingled with the one he was used to. 

Slowly, he deposited his briefcase and shrugged out of his jacket to hang it in the closet by the front door. He kicked out of his too-tight shoes and two fingers loosened the knot of his tie whilst his frown deepened.

His home office was exactly as it should be. The same with his little gym studio. None of the unoccupied guest bedrooms were disturbed, including the one that Karin had long claimed as her own for when she visited once in a blue moon.

Had Karin decided to visit thinking that he’d be away on the business trip that was cancelled last minute? It would be just like her to do something like that, but he was certain she would have stayed away from his room—the master suite.

Now certain to find his baby sister, who was as far from being a baby than ever, somewhere within the walls of his home, he felt his temper bubble. He didn’t need to be disturbed during what was pitched to him as mandated paid time off.

Kento was already annoyed by the idea that was forced upon him earlier this afternoon, and it wasn’t until he reached his building did he begin to think perhaps it was a blessing. Honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time he had taken any vacation time. A week or so to unwind, maybe read for the first time in months, sample a new whisky imported from Scotland… 

The possibilities were endless.

He spied a small suitcase open on his bed, the contents a riotous jumble that made his head pound just to look at. A trail of clothing led from the bed to the bathroom door which stood slightly ajar. Perfumed steam escaped and his teeth grit together in irritation. Music played rather loudly in his opinion, a bright bubbly song with lyrics in a different language he couldn’t understand.

Did he dare to burst into the bathroom and scare the living daylights out of his darling little sister? The idea was tempting. The only downside being that he had no interest in mistakenly seeing her in some state of undress if she hadn’t yet made it into the bath. He would listen a little longer, wait until he was sure he wasn’t going to irreparably damage both his eyesight and his psyche before acting. 

Kento padded around the bed, pulling his tie off and throwing it on the pillow to deal with later. The top three buttons on his shirt unbuttoned easily and breathing became a little easier again. Not for the first time, his mood shifted again. It would be nice to see Karin, catch up and find out how school was going. There was never enough time during the holidays to really enjoy her company so maybe this was all working out for the best.

He was still going to give her the fright of her life though.

The sound of splashing reached his ears and he smiled. Memories of tormenting his little sister rose to the surface whilst he tiptoed silently towards the bathroom door. He could hear the sound of humming along to the music and he had to stifle a snort of laughter, singing was not her forte.

A strong hand gripped the edge of the door. Kento held his breath, preparing to yell. Silently, he counted to three and leapt inside.

“Boooo!”

You had never screamed so loud in your entire life. A man was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his features twisted in amusement but quickly shifting into sheer mortification.

Water sloshed over the side of the bath, bubbles going up your nose as you pushed your body low into the fragrant water. An intruder!

“Who the fuck are you?” You yelled indignantly, anger finally overcoming the terror ripping through your heart. Whoever he was, he was tall and incredibly pissed off. 

His blond hair fell into his eyes, a hand the size of a dustbin lid swiping it back only to highlight the furious scrunch of his eyebrows. Sharp hazel eyes swung between you and the wall, clearly unsure where to look. In other circumstances, you would have called him good-looking, handsome even but not when you were so very vulnerable.

He spoke, almost to himself. “You’re not Karin…” 

You knew that name, it was your friend’s name. This was her pl—Shit, this wasn’t her place. You could scream.

“I’m Nanami Kento, and you’re in my bath. Who are you?”

tw: kento x female reader, cockwarming, slightly bratty reader (if you squint), smut cause why not

You had done this a hundred times, and yet it still felt as fresh and thrilling as the very first.

It was impossible to feel unaffected by the touch of your husband. The warmth only Kento possessed, that resonated you with you in ways you couldn’t put into mere words.

The hour was early; you should be finishing your morning routine before heading to work, but instead you were in Kento’s study—pestering.

The tight grey pencil skirt that you knew he adored was hiked high around your waist, your underwear slipped to the side to allow the slippery heat of your cunt to be stretched just nicely by his thick, generous cock.

Kento toyed with your clit, the merest teasing swipes of a finger. It was just enough enough to tickle your sensitive bud while he read the morning paper, just enough to heighten every nerve in your body and turn you needy.

You tried to focus on the printed words in front of you both. You desperately tried to follow the articles, but you couldn’t find the desire to even care, not when you felt both whiny for more and pleasantly tingly from what you were getting.

Kento pressed a chaste kiss to your temple, pleasure dancing in your veins as dopamine flooded you. Leaning back, you pressed your nose into his neck, inhaling his cologne mingled with rich coffee. A pathetic mewl escaped your lips from the little jolt caused by the turning of the page.

“Kento, please.”

It was a dance at this point, a well-rehearsed two-step that you both knew by heart.

You would whine and beg Kento to have mercy, to give you the good morning fuck that you craved to help you make it through the day without succumbing to murdering a colleague.

He would allow you to sink onto his equally as eager erection under the guise of it being a small inconvenience. Culminating in Kento finally snapping, pressing you flush against the desk and pounding into your gushing cunt until you were both spent and breathless.

The morning paper fluttered to the desk; a calloused hand wrapped around your delicate throat. Finger and thumb pressed into each cheek until your mouth popped open into a surprised oval.

He hummed, careful—thoughtful.

Your heart rate accelerated from this change in proceedings, slick escaped from your sopping hole, drenching your thighs and most likely ruining Kento’s expensive slacks.

His faint smile pressed against your neck, followed by a hot tongue laving a path across your pulse and up to your ear.

“Hm, sweetheart. I think you’ve gotten a little too used to getting your way with me, I think it’s time to remind you that I am not always a merciful man.”

You tried to squirm, to find the friction that he was daring to deny you, but you were held fast by strong arms.

“Sit still sweetheart. I’ve got work to do.”