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mysteria157 · 3 months

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Chapter 11

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

Word Count: ~16k

CW: just…straight smut, profanity

Summary: Nanami gifts you with something that sets a new course in your life. When confessions are finally laid on the table, you both give in.

Notes: Hi! This is a long one so buckle in. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated but not necessary <3 I hope you enjoy reading!

Divider: @cafekitsune

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It Had To Be You Masterlist

You watched Rory move another porcelain pillar across his studio to join the others of various height and size. An art exhibit was to be hosted at his studio and he had waited until the last minute to prepare.

“That looks good there. I don’t think we should change anything else.”

You watched him dust off his jeans, brown hands swiping the particles off the denim before he smiled up at you. His two strand twists were pulled up into a top bun, brown eyes filled with joy as he looked around at his finished work. The exhibit was to be held in only two days and he still needed to confirm catering, music, and decorations he had ordered weeks ago.

“Who asked you for an exhibit anyway? This has never happened to you.”

Rory pursed his lips, clasping his hands behind his back before he rocked playfully on his heels before throwing a wide grin in your direction.

“Me. I’ve finally pulled enough sponsors and followers to have something small.”

“Congratulations!”

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace as he chuckled into your hair and rubbed your back.

“I’ll be there, I promise. Do you need a guide? Can I help come up with price points? Or I can get out some last minute marketing for you—”

“Honey.”

He smiled down at you and patted the side of your cheek, a familiar gesture of affection he had always cast your way growing up.

“The only thing I want is for you to wear a nice comfortable dress, support me when you can, and look beautiful like you always do.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping away from his laughing form at your annoyance before you folded your arms over your chest.

“It would be a perfect opportunity to really showcase some of your work.”

The sound of that made your throat clench, lips pursing as you tried to push away the nerves in your belly. As if anyone would like your amateur work. Rory had been crafting ceramics for years, and before you were even born.

“I can set up a shelf if you want. Somewhere where not too many will pry—”

“Uncle Rory. I appreciate the gesture, but I’m not ready yet. I still have so much to work on.”

He scoffed in response, waving a hand at you in dismissal before flitting his gaze to the layout of pillars.

“Your mother is something else.”

He had muttered it under his breath, but you still caught it, choosing not to respond.

In truth, you had only just recently begun to regain your confidence and footing with ceramics again. The nagging words of your mother had echoed less and less every time you sat at a throwing wheel. But with a growing baby and a new house, you hadn’t really touched anything in the past week.

“Fine, fine. I won’t bring it up anymore. But I still want you there. Wear something nice…bring Nanami too. I know you had your little date yesterday because you look…very relaxed.”

You scoffed, choking on a laugh and blushing fiercely as you smacked your uncle on the arm.

“Nothing happened!”

You watched his shoulders shake in glee as he looked down at you, the teasing glint in his eyes so reminiscent of almost every time he looked at you. Growing up and spending your summers with him, having a place to run to when your mother frustrated you, you had only ever seen him happy or laughing. It was rare to see him annoyed or pensive or even angry; the only times those emotions had ever graced his features was when your mother was either in the room or the subject of conversation.

“All alone with a looker like that?”

He whistled, the noise bouncing off the walls of his empty studio as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Make it make sense. I’m straight as an arrow but…20 dollars is 20 dollars.”

“Stop!” you squealed, face red and throat ripping with giggles as you smacked his arm again. He guffawed, his boisterous laugh practically shaking the walls as he watched you flail about in embarrassment.

You were right though, nothing had happened. At least not really. You had toed that line last night gracefully, letting him ravage you to the point of delusion. Had it not been for your traitorous stomach, you probably would have woken up this morning in his sheets demanding breakfast and tea. He had morphed back into the perfect gentleman you were used to, content to blurt out annoyed comments at the television, fingers still pressing into the sore muscles of your back, peppering your neck with a kiss or two when the thought crossed his mind. Kento was able to put your discomfort on the top of his priority list, his lust tampered and tucked away for another time when it was more appropriate.

After all three episodes of the Kardashians had played and the heaviness of sleep began to settle into your bones, he walked you out to your car so you could go home before your eyes began to droop.

That was all. Nothing too crazy even though you wanted it to be.

But soon. You had promised it to yourself when you brushed your teeth last night and got ready for bed. Soon you would take charge and show him just how insatiable you could be.

“See, you over here thinking about it right now. A shame.”

Rory’s teasing slid through your ears, pulling you out of your thoughts and back into your overheated and embarrassed body. You narrowed your eyes at him, sticking your tongue out before whirling around to walk out of the studio.

“It’s in two days! Seven pm, don’t be late!”

****

“So, I haven’t heard from you all day. How long until you tell me how your date went?”

By the time you made it to your house from Rory’s studio, you only had minutes to spare before Ome was making her presence known. You had invited many of your friends over to finally get your house in order.

Originally it wasn’t your plan, but when Gojo heard Nanami and Haibara would be over to finally lay concrete in your studio, he immediately inserted himself. He wanted to ‘use his superior height to hang up pictures and shelves’.

His words not yours. Because he knew wherever you were, Ome would be as well.

Yuji, using any opportunity to spend time with you, insisted on coming over to move the rest of your furniture around.

Ome? Ome just wanted to be around to snoop about your date.

“Stop ignoring me. I’ll keep pestering until you give in.”

You offered her no response, flickering your gaze down to the layout of instructions for the rocking chair that had finally come in the mail. Ome had tried to reach for the box for the baby’s crib, but you had adamantly refused to open it. Based on Kento’s random bouts of slightly less stoic sentiment when he talked about putting together the crib, you gathered he wanted nothing more than to do it himself.

“How big is his dick?”

You rolled your eyes, your gaze still looking down at the instructions.

“Why are you talking like we haven’t had sex before?”

You gestured down to your belly, keeping your eyes on your work as you fastened a wooden leg into a rocker, the dark wood sliding beneath your fingertips.

“You had sex with Nanami when you were both drunk as fuck. Last night was the first time you two fucked free of inhibition. Your hormones are out of control, high libido, everything is sensitive, it’s the perfect opportunity to ride him into submission.”

You sighed slowly, your patience quickly evaporating as she continued to ramble. It was impossible to ignore Ome when she was determined to pry something out of you. It made no sense to withhold anything from her when she could read you like a book upside down, inside out, wet and dirty even on your worst day.

“We didn’t have sex, Ome.”

She scoffed in annoyance, bright silver eyes filling with growing curiosity as she helped you fasten the other side of the rocker. Her kinky locs were pulled away from her chocolate face and into a low bun. She had hidden away her curves in jogging pants and a hoodie, but you were sure the minute Gojo laid his eyes on her, he would make his intentions known until she smacked him across the face.

“You looked hot. Nanami naturally looks like a model so I know he was hot. It was fate. You’ve been trying to climb that quarter of a Danish man for months—”

“He made me a wonderful meal and we made out on his couch and watched the Kardashians. That’s all. I don’t even—we haven’t even talked about what we are.”

She sighed, the peppermint of her gum drifting over to your face and sending small shocks down your spine.

“You two are having a baby together, the correct way to go about a relationship passed a few months ago. You like him, he for damn sure likes you. Be the powerhouse that I know you are and state your intentions. Tell him you want him, drop to your knees and give him that sloppy toppy that will keep him at your side forever.”

You giggled softly, fastening another log in place, your mind running wild with imagination from her words. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to greet him and Haibara at the door, pull Kento by the shirt into your room and throw him on your bed before you fell to your knees and wrapped his cock in your mouth. You didn’t get the chance to that night five months ago, he had knocked away all attempts of you trying to grab at him, redirecting your hands into the sheets to grab and pull as he fucked you with an intensity and sensuality that had you on the verge of tears.

Ome was right though, as much as you wanted to have sex with him, you knew your subconscious would never be comfortable until you at least talked about the state of your relationship. You had both gone from enemies to being bound together by the baby inside of you, to friends who clearly had intense feelings for one another. Everything had moved so fast and out of order.

The sound of the doorbell pulled you out of your thoughts, your eyes blinking back into focus at the mahogany rocking chair leg in your hands. Ome bounded up from the floor and out of the room, leaving you in silence as you fastened the last piece of the chair. You smoothed your hands along the seat, the shiny dark wood reflecting the orb of the light on the ceiling as you pressed against the arm, watching the chair rock back and then towards you again.

Would Kento want something more with you?

You could never ask Ome the question. You could but you would never live down her anger at your stupidity.

Kento had seen almost every rough edge from you. While he didn’t have the opportunity to see you gross from sleep, hot morning breath and snoring, he had been given a front row seat to your fears and vulnerabilities. He had watched you break down and confess why you demanded so much of yourself. He had seen firsthand the effects of your own mother throwing scathing words in your direction and just how deep the trauma in your soul lay hidden.

You couldn’t have your cake and eat it too. You couldn’t want him physically and emotionally but cast him away when things got tough. Not with a baby on the way. You wouldn’t put your daughter through that. You wouldn’t subject her to awkward birthday parties where mommy and daddy were on opposite sides of the backyard glaring at each other.

But you couldn’t stand the thought of choosing to co-parent and watch Kento meet another woman. You couldn’t stomach the idea of having to explain to your daughter that the curvy blonde woman wrapped around her father would potentially be a stepmother.

“Nanami and Haibara are here!”

Ome’s voice rang in your ears, shaking your shoulders back into the present once again in such a small span of minutes. You looked up at the door of the nursery, watching Haibara and Kento come into view as Ome slid past them and began to collect the trash from the floor.

“Thank you for letting me help, y/n!”

Yu, cheerful as always smiled down at you, his almost comically large brown eyes shining down at you before looking around the nursery.

“I’m happy you could come.”

Ome inserted herself before Yu could speak again, holding the trash in her arms as she offered to show him the room that would make up your studio. They both disappeared from the room, their voices slowly decreasing in volume as they walked down the hall and out of earshot.

Kento in his dark jeans and simple white shirt, walked into the nursery, his intense brown eyes analyzing every inch of your work.

“What do you think?”

You let the simple question hang in the room, drifting in the air and through his ears as he admired your partially complete stencil on the wall.

“I think it’s going to look amazing. You already know how I feel about your work.”

You didn’t offer him a response as you watched his form walk slowly around the room, his blond hair was free of product and left to fall free. You had decided weeks ago that you loved it that way. It showed a side of him that you never imagined. Even with his stoic and serious demeanor, the carefree way he let his hair fall around his face made him less intimidating and more vulnerable.

He pulled his gaze away from your work on the wall, turning around to face your form perched on the floor before his eyes landed on the completed rocking chair in front of you. You ran your hands along one of the arms, smiling playfully up at him.

“Not bad huh?”

He hummed in response, the deep sound wafting down to land on your skin.

“How about you model the product for me?”

A large pale hand reached down for you, long fingers flickering back toward himself in a come hither motion and beckoning for you. You took his hand not a second later, letting the warmth bleed into your palm and begin to make its way up your arm as he pulled you to your feet.

You would need a pillow for your back, but the chair was structurally perfect. Large enough to not have your feet drag on the floor when you rocked back and forth, but not too small to squeeze your thighs on the sides.

Kento looked down at you, watching you sway back and forth in the large mahogany chair and basking in the warmth that began to boil in his stomach. You smiled up at him, your gaze free of frustration and worry, a mixture of happiness and mirth filling its place. Your curls were piled messily atop your head, a few tendrils falling to frame your face. Even in your maternity leggings and long blue shirt, he could see the swell of your stomach beneath the fabric, prominent and growing to accommodate the life inside.

It filled him with a sense of emotion he wasn’t expecting. He had long ago accepted the primal feeling of being the cause of another life forming. But he had yet to grasp the random bursts of unbridled happiness when his eyes would land on you when you both were together. He marveled at the way his chest tightened when he found you idly rubbing your belly when you talked. He loved the subtle changes in your form; the roundness of your cheeks and the way you would have to slide your shirt down when it rode too high and exposed the skin of your stomach. Even now as he looked down at you, the sight of a mother rocking in a chair and cradling her stomach, he couldn’t help the picture of their daughter in your arms sleeping on your chest as you rocked her to sleep.

To see you change so much for something else was a beautiful thing. Kento for all of his wit and strength and accomplishments would never know the feel of being so close to a life he had created as it grew.

“I’m going to guess by how much you’re staring that you like what you see?”

Kento chuckled softly, lips curling into a small smile as he chose to gaze at you further instead of offering a response. You bit the inside of your cheek, willing away the blush trying to make its way on your face as you stopped rocking and pulled yourself out of the chair.

“Rory has an exhibit in a few days at the studio. All of his work over the years and he’s pretty excited about it.”

“That is quite an accomplishment. I’ll offer my congratulations when I see him again.”

You opened your mouth, faltering for only a second before you squared your shoulders and harnessed that small reserve of confidence you kept in handy when it came to him.

“I’ll be going, you should come too.”

You fucking idiot.

Analyzing eyes roved over your form, sliding over your skin with an intensity that always made your stomach melt with heat. He closed the gap between you both, crossing the last shred of a boundary you had erected as his chest brushed against yours.

“So, you’re saying we should arrive separately? That’s very counterproductive and not like you at all.”

A pale hand slid around your waist, the familiar warmth of his skin blazing through your shirt and licking up your torso as he immediately pulled you closer to him.

“You don’t want me to come with you?”

His voice was so low, the deep timbre vibrating against you as his tea scented breath washed over your face. You couldn’t smell the familiar cologne on his body even at your close proximity, but you could faintly get a whiff of lavender fabric softener radiating from his white shirt. The feel of the nursery walls against your back shocked you instantly, pushing a shaky breath from your lungs, your blood boiling in your toes and slowly inching its way up your legs.

“You’d have me dress up nice, gel and part my hair, wear those glasses you like so much…but I have to come alone? That’s not very fair.”

“I…I suppose you can come with me then. A date.”

He hummed in agreement before leaning down towards you.

The feel of his lips molding against yours wasn’t new, but it always felt that way. Hot and a little wet but so slow and sensual to the point you felt your heart begin to lurch up into your throat. Even with your limited experience with each other, finding a rhythm was easy because in a matter of seconds, the hand not on your waist had slid up to the side of your neck, titling your head back and allowing him better access. The feel of his tongue sliding against your bottom lip made you gasp, stomach fluttering in anticipation as you opened up more for him and let his tongue slide against yours.

All too soon his lips pulled away from yours, choosing instead to kiss the side of your mouth, the corner of your jaw, the thin skin of your neck before he latched on and began to suck the skin between his mouth, popping the blood vessels to give way to a mark that would surely take days to fade.

You blinked away the thick haze in your head, your vision slowly coming into focus as you looked up in a trance at the ceiling.

“Th-the door is open, Kento. Have some restraint.”

He hummed against your neck, disapproval leeching from his wet mouth and onto your skin. With great strength, he pulled away from your neck and looked down at you instead. His full lips were swollen and slightly red, cheeks holding a hint of ruddiness in color as he breathed heavily against you.

“Then we can go to your room.”

You swallowed down the whine that pressed against the back of your throat and threatened to be let free. His tone was serious and without a hint of teasing, eyes severe but liquid and flowing with heat. You opened your mouth to fight back, eyes blinking rapidly through the increasingly rising lust in your chest.

“Gojo and Yuji will be here soon.”

Kento simply shrugged, radiating indifference as one of his hands stroked your hip, pushing the hem of your shirt up to let his fingers graze against your skin. You found yourself arching your back fractionally, angling your hips just a little closer to him.

“Gojo will be distracted with Omelia and Yuji will be too engrossed on how cement works to care about anything else.”

Another kiss to your lips, quick and wet before the hand on your skin moved further up your back, the miniscule touch arching you a little more into him.

He sighed dramatically, hot breath amplifying the electric currents still zipping through your body.

“Perhaps you’re right. We would be pressed for time.”

Both of his hands cradled your face, tilting your head back again to look up at him before he slotted his lips against yours, kissing you with an intensity that had you struggling to breathe against him. You buried your hands into his chest, fingers curling the soft fabric tightly, wanting him closer but also knowing you wouldn’t have the privacy today that you both craved.

He pulled away with a soft breath before pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth.

“Besides, the things I would like to do…I’m sure our friends would be a little mortified if they heard you.”

The whine that had remained huddled in the back of your throat finally sprung free, your face coloring hard as you smacked his muscular chest and glared up at him. He smiled down at you, a gentle curve of his lips and a small puff of air leaving his nose as he laughed gently, chest rubbing up against your belly.

The ring of the doorbell and Ome’s yell that should would answer, made you both unfortunately aware of what would be happening today; getting your house in order. Not tangled in the sheets for hours on end.

But soon.

“Go help Haibara with the studio.” You reached up to stroke loose blond locks from his forehead, admiring as they flopped back into place. “The gallery is in two days. Look nice but not too fancy and wear that cologne I can always smell on you.”

You watched with silent satisfaction as his eyes flooded with arousal and pride, offering yourself to him one last time as he kissed your lips quickly and pulled away from your frame, allowing the cold air of your nursery to waft between your bodies and dissipate the heat.

“Yes ma’am.”

You ignored the licks of heat in your belly at the words, pushing away the fantasies as he placed a quick kiss to your cheek and walked from the room.

You weren’t paying attention to the growing chatter in the hallways, your eyes unfocused and teeth digging into your bottom lip as Ome and Gojo walked into the nursery.

“Why can’t I compliment you?”

Gojo’s voice was filled with confusion and a small hint of disappointment as he stopped in the doorway. Ome sat in your rocking chair, looking up at Gojo’s confused form.

“You only compliment me because you want me to get in bed with you. You’re too tall and annoying for me to spare the five minutes for you to get off.”

You relaxed your posture, molding more into the wall as you watched them both interact.

“No, I’m complimenting you because I mean it.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes and folding her arms across her chest. You could see the need to fight him in her eyes, the innate desire to turn away any man who made themselves known to her. But you could also detect a hint of interest, so very small but only you could see it.

“Gojo, you’re—”

“Just one date.”

The admission wasn’t a surprise to neither you nor Ome. But the serious look on Gojo’s face, bright blue eyes looking down at Ome in a fierce sort of loyalty you had never seen before, made you both pause.

“Just one. Give me one chance to prove to you that I’m worth more than insults. If you don’t like me after all of that, then I’ll leave you alone.”

She didn’t speak for a few seconds too long, silver expressive eyes looking up at Gojo’s equally alien ones before she pursed her lips in resignation.

“Y/n’s uncle is showing his work at his studio in a few days. Take me. No tricks, no stupid remarks, no nasty innuendos. If you fuck this up, I’ll choke you.”

He wiggled his shoulders playfully, smiling down at her.

“So, a win-win for me then?”

You couldn’t help the snort that shot from your mouth, eyeing Ome as she rolled her eyes and tried to contain the twitching of her lips.

Gojo turned his form over to you, flashing pearly whites in your direction before he invaded your space with his grotesquely tall form and pulled you into a gentle hug.

“So still no dick yet?”

For as much as Ome complained about Gojo, they truly had a lot in common. Two sides of the same coin who said what was on their mind without a care for how it came out of their mouths. Gojo took in your annoyed expression for only a second before rolling his eyes.

“I told you, my eyes see everything. I can tell that you had a good date last night, but you don’t have that glow most women do when they’ve had good pipe.”

There was no point in admonishing him. Once he got started, it was almost impossible for him to stop until it suited him.

“In college, I accidentally heard Nanamin giving it to one of his girlfriends at the time. Even I wanted to take notes from him. She walked out of his room like a newborn deer."

Gojo sighed as he recounted the events, almost wistful.

"Luckily Haibara walked in the house when Nanamin saw me or he probably would have beat the shit out of me. Wear something nice and he will be on you like a rabid dog.”

Ome barked at him to get out, rushing after his laughing form as he ran from the room, leaving you a blushing mess.

***

You were sure of yourself as you looked in the large mirror of your bathroom. You had spent hours putting yourself together, picking out every accessory and coming up with the perfect style until you had given up entirely and decided to just…go with your gut. And that simple action boosted your confidence to a degree that even you were blushing as you looked in the mirror.

A mauve long dress with skinny straps hugged your body. Not too tight, but form-fitting enough to show off the curves of your growing form and your belly. The long-sleeved mauve duster made you feel a little more secure as it flowed down your body and stopped at the same length of your dress. Your clear chunky heels were only about three inches tall; a perfect height for you to walk around in all night without getting too uncomfortable. Your curls hung over your shoulders and down your back, your edges smoothed down and secure with a skinny black headband to keep any tendrils from falling in front of your face. You topped off your accessories with a double-layered gold necklace, gold hoop earrings and a few simple gold bands to decorate your fingers. A simple wing of eyeliner, clear mascara, and a smooth application of clear lipgloss had cemented your look and filled you with a sensation of pride that you hoped would ride with you the rest of the night.

The sound of your doorbell pulled you out of your admiration, jumping a little from shock before you grabbed your black clutch and made your way for the door.

It made no sense to look naturally ready to fuck. And yet here he was, at your front door in black pants topped with a black leather belt with a silver buckle to accentuate his trim waist. A dark grey knit long-sleeve top was tucked into his pants, pulling just a little at his pectorals and biceps. The sleeves were pushed up to the middle of his forearms, showing off veiny skin and his signature silver Cartier watch. His thick blonde locks were gelled and parted in his signature style that you had seen every day at work and that familiar cologne was pooling around his form, floating around his feet and waiting to trail after him.

“You’re beautiful.”

The statement left no room for argument as he looked down at you and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. You offered a small smile up at him in return, rolling your eyes playfully before you locked your door and followed him to his car.

***

Rory had really outdone himself in such a short time. The studio had been transformed from glaze and paint stained walls, eclectic design, and haphazard decoration, to sleek and modern. The walls which were usually decorated with frames of paintings and photography had been covered with white satin curtains. The bright lights that were often on in the center of the room had been turned off, smaller lights installed instead and directing their low-lit gaze at the various pieces of ceramic art that littered around the room on white stone pillars of varying size. He had forgone the musician and settled with a simple playlist of smooth jazz and R&B that played through the speakers on the walls. A long table of snacks and drinks and a caterer for each dish manned the far wall at the very end of the room. Even though you and Kento were only fifteen minutes late for a three-hour-long event, the room was filled with people talking idly with each other as they gazed at his work.

“Will you be my guide?” Kento teased from next to you, offering his muscular arm before you wrapped into his embrace and chuckled against him.

“You know his style more than I do.”

You couldn’t deny the happiness that filled you as you both wandered from work to work, your mouth flying with different facts about each piece. You told him about Rory’s inspiration for a collection of terracotta pots he had made when you were fifteen, walked him through the process of how he studied indigenous tribes overseas for a few years to gain inspiration on how to craft in a different way.

He listened intently, asking questions often to keep your mind busy, his mind truly interested in everything he was looking at. It made you squeeze his arm a little tighter in affection as you both said hello to Rory before continuing to wander around.

“Do you realize that this could be you?”

You didn’t respond to him as you both studied a set of black stoneware, fashioned to look as if it had been broken from hot coal and molded on the spot. Kento, sensing your apprehension, chose to keep speaking.

“You have a creativity that rivals even Rory.”

You scoffed in reply to his statement. What a ludicrous thing to say; comparing yourself to your uncle who had years of experience and study to hone his craft. And you, who had only thrown pottery on a wheel in your studio in your spare time, would not come as close to this for quite some time.

“Where do you think you get the trait from? You have work in your studio that could be sitting right on these pillars tonight.”

You simply chose to study him further, your eyes prying into him to see if you could pull any sense of a lie from his expressive brown eyes. As usual, you came up short. Kento always exuded a seriousness that gave way to honesty

“I think impending fatherhood has made you soft.”

“I may be happy that I’ll be a father soon, but I have no reason to lie. I will say it until you begin to realize and then continue to do so; you have a gift.”

You swallowed gently, pushing down the rising quivering in your throat from his words. You had a love-hate relationship with his way to simply speak freely. What would come out chopped and filled with anxiety from others was always effortless for Kento. Especially when it was directed at you.

“Would you like something to drink?”

He was clearly trying to soothe you; give you a little space to breathe and soak in his words. You took the bait, smiling softly and nodding before you watched him walk through the crowd and away from you.

Your eyes wandered over Rory’s black stoneware again, admiring the natural orange spots to bring the appearance of rust. You would get there. Once the baby was born and you had just a little more time to breathe, you would dedicate yourself to your work. You had more than enough money to stay unemployed for years and you had resolved to see this through until the end; whether that resulted in success or embarrassment would remain to be seen.

Gojo was hard to miss as he and Ome circled the room and caught your eye, talking—and surprisingly not bickering—as he pointed to certain objects and smiled down at her, mouthing words that seemed to make her chuckle and roll her eyes. Ome was of course as sexy as ever; black pants that hugged her thick thighs and slim waist, a black halter top that showed off chocolate shoulders, her kinky curly hair falling over her shoulders in a twist out she had clearly worked hard on. Her silver eyes were the most entrancing thing in the room. Gojo for all his unnatural height and bright blue eyes that pulled everyone in, was nothing in comparison to her when she was in the room. He waved at you, smiling brightly before his stark gaze landed on what was probably Kento across the room. He whispered something in Ome’s ear before he disappeared into the crowd.

You were intentionally quiet when she reached you, pursing your lips dramatically as you waited for her to speak first. She glared at you instead, seeing through the demeanor almost instantly, gaze cutting as a means to intimidate but only served to bounce off of you.

She sighed in defeat.

“Spit it out.”

“So you and Gojo—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You giggled brightly, rubbing your belly instinctually as you watched her chocolate cheeks darken from blush. She rolled her eyes once, your giggling never ceasing as she rolled them again before the gentle curve of a smile broke her façade and she exhaled with her own incredibly rare giggle herself.

“He’s been…fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Okay, okay. He’s been really, really…sweet. I thought I could intimidate him into backing down but I guess six months of practice made him an expert. He’s…fucking trying and I’m having a good time.”

You wrapped your arm with one of hers, pulling her toward you with another giggle.

“I’m glad. Don’t get too comfy too quick, you might be joining me in the motherhood department with the way he carries himself.”

Ome squawked, smacking away your hand in embarrassment.

“You annoying piece of—”

“Excuse me.”

Your chiding laughter faded away slowly as you turned around to the source of whoever was trying to get your attention. Her appearance gave nothing away and you for sure didn’t recognize her from anywhere else. Red rimmed glasses perched on pale and freckled skin, jet black hair pulled up into a tight high bun, dark jeans, a white top, and red lipstick to make her stand out in the crowd even with her small frame.

“Are you y/n?”

“I am.”

Your confirmation seemed to make the small smile on her face grow significantly. She clasped her hands together in excitement.

“Oh, I’m so glad. Your message said I could find you here. I was hoping to talk to you in person about a potential commission?”

You tilted your head in confusion, your eyes looking quickly through the crowd for Kento but not finding him. Ome shifted beside you, sliding closer to you and reaching for your arm to pull you away if she needed to.

The woman could see the hesitation on your face and dug in her purse to pull out her phone.

“I’ve been following your Instagram page for weeks now and finally had the courage to message you about your work. I even received a response this afternoon on where to meet you so we could talk further.”

You held your composure as she handed you her phone.

The profile was simple and without flair but the pictures, each picture was of the work that you had done over the years. Terracotta and stoneware, partially complete painted china, the odd figurines you had crafted in the privacy of your studio. All of it was there, there was no way this was someone else. The fear of someone sneaking into your house rooted in your mind as you scrolled through picture after picture, going over every single time you had opened and closed the door to your home in Sendai to imagine a possibility that you had left it unlocked.

“I’m sorry but I don’t know what’s going…on…here.”

Your words died in your throat, mouth drying up instantly. The very last photo was of you; your messy hair pulled up into a bun, shirt stretched over a smaller belly and hands clutching a stoneware dish as you wrapped it in bubble wrap. You weren’t even looking up in the photo, but the impression was clear. Someone had taken a photo of you, and the sinking reality of who that person was had your heart soaring against your ribcage, pounding relentlessly against your bones, heartbeat echoing in your ears.

You scrolled back up to the top of the page, admiring the profile picture of one of your better works and then refusing to gasp at the bio.

Y/n

Self-taught Ceramic Artist based in Nakameguro

DM for more inquiries

“Kento.”

His name left you on a shaky exhale, your head filling with disbelief. You cleared your throat, suddenly aware of a pair of eyes looking at you, and smiled up softly at her, handing her back the phone.

“I apologize. It seems I have a friend who made this page for me and didn’t tell me. But…I would be happy to make something for you. You’ll have to be patient with me as you’ll be my first client. But we can talk later this week if you want.”

The woman exhaled happily, smiling up at you again before she bowed in respect.

“Thank you so much! I would be honored.”

She pulled her purse over her shoulder, turning to leave before faltering and looking at you.

“You have a wonderful friend.”

The statement made you shake out a small giggle, happiness beginning to flood your veins at a ferocity you weren’t prepared for.

“I suppose I do.”

Ome asked for the profile name from the woman as you remained silent. When she finally walked away and back into the crowd, it was just you and Ome still standing next to one of Rory’s work.

Kento had waited until your back was turned to take those photos that day when you were packing up your studio. He had done all of this without a second thought; creating an Instagram page maybe with Yuji’s help, organizing picture after picture, probably even manning inquiries and messaging that woman right before he got into his car to drive to your house to pick you up.

“Do you realize this could be you?”

“You have work in your studio that could be sitting on these pillars tonight.”

“You have such a gift.”

Ome’s hand on your back made you start, jumping slightly back into reality, your eyes hazy with tears as you looked over at her. You blinked them away, willing them back inside before they could roll down your eyes and give you away when Kento was to find you again. You looked down at your phone for what felt like the 50th time in only two minutes, scrolling through picture after picture, your admiration and affection for him growing by the second.

He had a kindness that you more than deserved but never would have expected to get, especially when you first met. He had only saw your work one time, just once in your studio right before you poured your heart out to him about your mother, and yet he had already resolved to make you realize just how talented you truly were.

All of this for you.

“Are you okay?”

Ome’s voice was soft next to you, rubbing your back and watching as you smiled over at her before nodding, your voice still too tight to speak.

“I can see Gojo trying to find me, so I’ll go to him and give you some space.”

She pulled you into a firm hug, chuckling against your cheek.

“I’m glad I finally have someone in my corner that can make you see reason.”

You pinched her side playfully, not speaking as you watched her disappear from you and in the direction of Gojo.

Kento was by your side only minutes later, his face giving away nothing as he offered you a plastic-covered cup, a string from a teabag hanging from the side.

“Dandelion tea. Helps with water retention and I can imagine standing for this long might make you a little swollen and uncomfortable.”

You exhaled quickly, your shoulder shaking from the action as you took the cup from him.

“They have packets of dandelion tea here?”

Kento tilted his head, his serious eyes gazing at you with an air that made your stomach squeeze.

“No, I brought a packet for you. Events like these require a lot of standing. It only made sense.”

You shook your head in disbelief, eyebrows pinching together as your mind reeled with the force of him. The more that you felt yourself getting used to his usual acts of kindness, the more you realized just how unacclimated you were. Even though you knew his nature, the fact that the person standing in front of you was just…being himself was almost too much to contemplate.

Making you tea for your nausea, texting you the right foods to eat to help with your nutrient intake, rubbing the sore muscles of your body without you having to ask, wanting to spend any moment with you that he could, offering you nothing but honesty and affirmation and affection in every interaction you both had.

For fucks sake even forcing you to put your own feet in the water with your work to show the world and even yourself just how much people were looking.

All of it was only things that Kento could do. Without question and without apprehension.

As he looked down at you, a small smile growing on his straight lips with not a care in the world, you realized in that moment that you wanted to be out of this room and only with him.

“Can we go home? Maybe back to my house? It’s closer and I would like to be away from people if I can.”

A familiar large hand rested on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd instantly.

“Whatever you would like, we will do.”

You bit the inside of your lip, both hands gripping the warm cup a little tighter as the flapping in your chest reinforced its existence with a heavy lurch.

***

Your tea was largely forgotten as you set the cup down on your granite kitchen island. You had spent the entire car ride thinking over what you would say and how you would approach him. You had rehearsed it in your head over and over. But now, standing in your large kitchen as you watched him heat up leftover food from last night for you without even having to ask, you found your tongue had curled into the back of your throat, thick and dry and keeping you from speaking.

“Do you want to watch a movie? I found one that I think you might like.”

His attention was elsewhere as he spoke, pulling the reheated pizza from your microwave and setting it on the counter between you both. He finally looked up at you, his straight face coloring with a hint of worry.

“You’re awfully quiet. What’s wrong?”

Hesitation made your bones suddenly heavy, your mouth mute and your resolution teetering on the edge of fear. Kento could read every flicker of emotion in your eyes like a book, walking around the island to stand in front of you, a hand rubbing your upper arm in an attempt to soothe you.

“Are you nauseous? Tired?”

You blinked yourself out of your stupor, steeling what remained of your fraying nerves as you dug in your purse for your phone. He was silent as he watched you unlock it, observing as you opened the app and clicked the recently followed profile. You squeezed the sides of your phone as you looked at the pictures, your conviction hardening in your chest as you decided finally to put the games and worry with him aside.

“A woman found me at the gallery tonight and asked for me to commission something for her. Naturally…I had no idea what she was talking about and she showed me this.”

You turned your phone to face him. Kento wasn’t surprised or caught off guard; his straight face simply looked down at your unlocked phone, brown eyes flickering over the contents quickly before he looked up to meet your gaze, his expression unchanged.

“Did you make this?”

He answered almost immediately, his voice firm and leaving no room for trepidation.

“I did. I took them that night when I helped you pack, and then it took me about a week to put it all together. I’ve been watching it and answering inquiries since then. She was the first person that I felt confident would not be a creep.”

You clutched your phone to your chest, pressing the cold titanium to your cleavage and willing yourself to stay focused. He spoke without a care in the world, muttering the words to you as if he were talking about the weather. As if the act were just a usual stroll down the street.

“I don’t want you to say that I’m speaking nonsense. I don’t want a vague answer and I don’t want you to tell me something just to make me feel better. I need to know, now. Why did you do it?”

He pulled in a steady breath, broad shoulders rising with the movement before he squinted down at you and opened his full straight lips to speak.

“We had a rather rough start, didn’t we? Always barking at each other in conference rooms, demeaning each other’s’ prowess whenever we could. All because I was an asshole who did not like change and was content to coast through a job I loathed. But even though we both couldn’t stand each other; I was always thinking about you. Even when I swore to myself that you were no good, I loved every word that came out of your mouth, every glare you sent my way, every laugh that fell from your lips when Yuji or Gojo told you a joke. You were always the smartest person in the room and I gravitated to you. Even when I was drunk out of my mind, you were all I wanted. I hated it. But I realized quite quickly that I hated how much I had messed up when I could have done so much better with you.”

You swallowed the heavy lump in your throat, trying your best to will away the lightheadedness as his words lofted down between you both to settle on your face.

“I don’t want you to think I’m only acting this way because of the baby. If anything, she’s shown me everything that I want. I want to be able to take care of you while she grows inside of you. I want to be there when she comes into the world. I want to be there for every diaper change and late night when we are both too exhausted to stand…I want to be there for every meal and birthday and holiday, but I want you with me. I want to be there with you every day, for everything. I got your job back, put your ideas in front of those who would listen, and helped fire the ones who wronged you because you deserve it all. I made that page because I want you to understand how special you are and I want others to see that as well, and if that means I have to give you a push then I’ll do it a million times over.”

The sound of your phone creaking as you squeezed the metal in your hands pulled the fuzz out of your mouth. Your vision was swimming with tears, threatening to spill over and start a spicket that you wouldn’t be able to stop. You could feel yourself sinking, wanting to sob in happiness but too embarrassed to show him. So naturally, you turned to humor as a distraction from your bubbling nervousness. You cleared your throat gently and lifted your chin up at him.

“You speak like you’re reading wedding vows. You don’t think it’s a little soon?”

Kento’s eyes widened fractionally in surprise, his cheeks dusting red before he schooled his features and narrowed his eyes down at you in admonishment.

“That’s not funny. Stop teasing.”

You couldn’t help the small giggle that warbled from the back of your throat, your hands relaxing around your phone before you set it on the counter next to you. You looked up at him, admiring the subtle blush on his cheeks that still hadn’t faded away, reveling in the emotions dancing in his eyes; vulnerable and uncertain. You took another step closer to him, the gap between you both now only inches apart.

“So, you want me then?”

You of course already knew what he was going to say. For months now, Kento had done nothing but show who he really was; kind and honest, unwavering in his feelings and affirming of yours, protecting of you in such a fierce way that the force of it was still something you had yet learned how to handle. There were so many other things that you could try and think about another time. You knew deep down that he wasn’t going anywhere. But to hear him speak the words you wanted to hear, just one more time to satisfy the urge for a few months, it would be more than enough for you.

He wrapped both of his arms around your waist, warm skin sliding against your duster and leeching into the tight fabric of your dress. The smell of him dancing along your skin, caressing and groping in a way that had you reeling.

You watched in growing delight as the corners of his lips curved with a soft smile, brown eyes melting almost immediately.

“Of course, I want you. I want you every minute of every day. I admire you and--I like you…more than you can imagine.”

The resolution had cemented in your chest, pushing away all your nerves and apprehension at once as he spoke the words to you; serious and firm and unrelenting in a way that only Kento could convey.

Mentally grasping the sudden abundance of courage, you closed the gap between you both and buried your hands in his shirt, bunching the fabric and yanking him down towards you until his nose brushed against yours. You quietly admired the sight of his eyes widening just an inch, bright brown eyes blowing out slowly.

“You’re a very sappy man, Kento. I’m surprised you don’t cry more.”

The rare chuckle that was growing more and more common around you shot out onto your skin, brushing against your cheeks and smoothing down the sides of your neck.

“The teasing won’t ever stop, will it?”

The hands around your waist yanked you even closer to him, your chest molding against his and forcing your neck to crane slightly to look up at him because of his tall form. The ring of his irises was thin, barely noticeable in the kitchen lights as you felt the heat from his body increase in temperature.

“Is that a problem, Kento?”

“Absolutely not.”

You both moved at the same time, crashing your lips against one another and igniting a fire that had been poked and prodded for almost six months, finally laying more coals down to watch it grow to a volatile level. His hands were insistent, digging into the meat of your hips with a force that had you hissing in satisfaction, your own hands twisting into his shirt, fingernails catching on the fabric and pulling hard.

The brush of the cold countertop against your back made you jolt, pulling your lips from his as you gasped from the feeling. There was no space between you both, your boundary had shattered a long time ago around him. Even slouched over to reach your lips, Kento towered over your small frame, boxing you in between his hot body and the granite behind you. His broad chest was heaving against your chest, panting deeply as you felt one of his hands leave your waist and twine between your fingers, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Your bedroom.”

His voice was low, lower than what you were expecting and the words carried nothing but demand as you felt your spine zip with electricity. You squeezed his hand and wordlessly led him through your living room, down the hall, and into your large master bedroom.

You had decided to stick with the taupe-colored walls but opted to paint the accent wall a light sage. Your walls were decorated ornately with paintings and pictures, a collection of small impressionist works you had accumulated over time and a vast array of pictures of you, Ome, Rory, and your friends throughout the course of your life. An antique vanity that you had saved up for years ago sat against one of your walls, skincare bottles and your minimalist makeup lay on the refurbished countertop.

The sight of your California King platform bed reminded you immediately of the tall man behind you, quiet and imposing as you felt his chest brush against your back. Your teeth dug harshly into your bottom lip, the pain keeping you grounded and lucid as one of Kento’s hands brushed your curls over a shoulder, exposing your neck to him. The hot press of his lips on the skin had your eyes rolling, fluttering closed as you instantly bent to his will, tilting your head to the side to give him more access. You couldn’t remember when your duster had come off or even when long fingers dipped underneath the thin straps of your dress before they were giving way and falling over and down your shoulders, allowing the fabric to tumble down your body and onto the floor. Your bra and panties were nothing special, you had always opted more for comfort these days and the lacier garments you did have were a bit too small now.

You had both seen each other stark naked before, had been pressed together and sweaty and panting and groaning against one another to leave no room to hide so this wasn’t anything new.

But that was before you knew more about him, before he had given you a child and peeled layer after layer of your soul until nothing was left. Now you were both free of inebriation and that ghosting feeling of anxiety slowly began to make itself known, familiar invisible tendrils dancing up your body menacingly.

All too quickly, Kento was turning you around to face him, an action that managed to dissipate the tendrils around you if only for a moment. His eyes were heady with lust and something else you couldn’t quite place, dark and blown out as his gazed roved over your skin.

You were proud of your growing belly; at five and a half months it wasn’t that big yet and you had no trouble getting around and reaching for things. But the soft curve of it did make you feel a little self-conscious. It wasn’t the smooth and slightly toned brown skin he had trailed his tongue down months ago. It wasn’t the same, but you knew Kento could care less.

Warm hands grabbed your hips, guiding you backwards until you were sinking down onto the soft black duvet on your bed. You swallowed hard as you watched him sag down to his knees onto the plush rug on the floor, his eye level now only a few inches taller than yours before he was leaning in again and taking your lips in a manner that seemed to leave you breathless. He wanted this, wanted you. In every way, shape, and form. And the finality of it registering in your body had you building with newfound confidence as you reached behind yourself and unhooked your bra, casting it aside and leaving your top half bare except for your gold necklace.

He took it as an invitation, his hands smoothing up your torso, thumbs brushing against the sides of your breasts before the pad of them ran over your nipples. You knew you were more sensitive lately, but the feel of his thumbs brushing against you had you whimpering into Kento’s mouth, your hands digging into the sheets behind you as you arched more into his touch. His lips were hot and wet as they trailed down your neck to suck and knead at your skin, gnawing at the soreness from the mark he left days ago before they dipped lower to brush against your collarbone, his thick tongue licking the bone against your thin skin.

Ten minutes. It had taken ten minutes for Kento to go from gentleman with his kisses and smooth hands, to perverted beast with a long and insistent tongue that needed to taste every inch of your skin. You let out a shaky breath as you looked down at him, refusing to whimper as his eyes caught yours, tongue out and pressed to your skin before trailing it down your breast and toward a nipple, twirling the bud before he sucked it into his mouth. The moan from your mouth caught you off guard, a little loud and jarring to your body as you tried to sift through the painful pleasure radiating up your spine. His hand grabbed your other breast, kneading the sensitive skin before two fingers rolled a nipple between them and pinched down.

You squeaked, sagging back onto your hands on the bed and letting your head fall back between your shoulder blades as you looked up at the ceiling, mouth open and panting.

Kento promised himself he would go slow. He wanted to take his time with you, touch every single inch until you were a whimpering, pleading mess that was begging for him with tears in your eyes.

It’s what he told himself when you answered the door in your tight dress, block heels, and long curls. It’s what he reinforced in his mind when you were close enough to taste his breath, teasing him even after he had laid himself bare. And it’s what he kept repeating in his head even now, a tongue licking a pert nipple in a gentle caress that had you shaking, your hands threatening to slip as your resolve broke further and further. But he was teetering on the edge, his mind running with salacious thoughts the more he tasted the salt of your skin and listened to the broken whimpers leaving your mouth. He hadn’t even touched your cunt yet, and he was trying to get himself together before he did. Just the thought of you hot and wet and dripping for him had him stiffening in his pants.

As soon as he acknowledged his resolve, it crumbled, a large and hot hand trailing from one of your breasts to dip behind the fabric of your panties. The sigh that left your mouth was deep and heavy, your head whipping down to look at him as his fingers dipped between your folds, sliding through the wetness of your slick. You dug your fingers into the fabric on his shoulders, eyebrows pinching in frustration.

“Stop teasing, Kento.”

A thick finger dipped between your folds, pressing into the hole of your cunt down to the knuckle. You jolted against him, shaking a breathy moan from your dry throat as you glared down at him.

“Being teased doesn’t feel that great all of a sudden?”

His face was straight and unchanging, eyes holding a glint of mirth as his muscular arm moved back and forth, the wrist flexing as the thick finger attached stroked in and out of your wet center. You needed more, craved more; the itchiness of your skin was slowly starting to become more insistent, hips arching toward him begging for another to give you the stretch you were seeking. Your face was like an open book, your emotions and needs laid bare for him and he smiled in response, a rare show of pearly white and straight teeth shocking you.

“You want more, baby?”

Your cunt clenched around his finger at the name, more slick gushing out just from the heat and timbre of his voice. You bit your bottom lip, nodding fervently as you dug your fingers harder into the fabric on his shoulders.

“Is this not enough?”

You couldn’t help the small growl that bubbled in your throat, a glare shooting his way, cutting through his indifferent air and making him smile softly again. He finally relented, slowly pulling his finger out of you, reveling in the wet muscle that squeezed him in an effort to keep him inside. He swallowed a groan, cock twitching in his pants and eyes looking up at you as he popped the wet finger in his mouth, sucking off your slick with a leery gaze.

You couldn’t handle the teasing any longer, choosing instead to scoot back on your bed and plop your head down on the pillows to prop you up, watching in silence as Kento stayed kneeled at the foot of the bed, an elbow pressing into the sheets as he propped his chin on a relaxed hand.

“I thought you wanted me?”

It was a low blow for you to say, but with the arousal thrumming in your veins, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“I always want you.”

“Then stop stalling and take off your clothes.”

He sighed dramatically, slowly coming to stand as he cast you a look of indifference. He was playing a game that he wouldn’t win, and you intended to let him know that.

“Unless you’re stalling for a reason? Afraid you’ll bust too soon?”

That hit something in him immediately, his tall and muscular body freezing, intense eyes flashing with shock, realization of what you were doing, and then resolution as he narrowed his eyes. He knew you were goading him, could smell it from across your large bed; but he wouldn’t let you get away with it regardless.

Kento’s hands reached for the hem of his shirt, dipping beneath the fabric before he pulled it over his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. You clenched your thighs together at the sight; your haze all those months ago had not done the memory of him justice. You forgot about the smooth pectorals that pulled his shirts a little too tight, or the tight abs and v cut that led down to something promising in his pants. His torso was without blemish except the light dusting of blonde hair that trailed down and disappeared behind his belt. You pressed your fingers into your sheets as they itched to reach across the bed and touch.

“Bust too soon? You and I both know that’s not true. Now, spread your legs for me, baby.”

You were heating with embarrassment as you felt the blood boil beneath your cheeks, your chest hitching with breath as you slowly obeyed him, opening your legs to show him your lavender panties. Kento’s eyes seemed to dilate further as he looked down at your covered pussy, his mouth watering at the sight of the dark spot conveying the heavy arousal you were steadily giving off. You ignored the growing itch at the base of your spine as you watched him slowly unbuckle his belt and push down his pants and underwear, finally freeing the rest of his skin for you to look at.

You’d forgotten how big he was but seeing it again was jarring. Long enough not to be overbearing, but thick to the point your cunt throbbed in anticipation. His cock hung heavy, twitching at the act of you staring, the tip gathering a small drip of precum. You bit the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood, your patience pulling thin.

“Show me what I want.”

His tone left no room for argument, his eyes sharp and focused as he kneeled on the bed. Your hand trembled for only a second as you pushed your panties to the side, showing him your dripping cunt that was more than ready to be stuffed full.

He tutted, shaking his head in disappointment as he looked down at you.

“Don’t be shy. Show me all of it, baby.”

You whined softly, fighting the thrumming in your veins as you used your fingers to spread your folds apart, your hole fluttering from the sudden rush of cold air in the room. It was completely obscene, and your face was on fire, but you couldn’t bear the thought of him not touching you.

“Good girl.”

The praise washed over you like a wave of hot water, sliding over your skin and trailing down your body. You watched him crawl toward you, muscular shoulders bunching and curling over his rotator cuffs as he hovered over you, one hand bunching in the hair at the nape of your neck while the other slid your panties down your legs, your traces of arousal catching on the skin of your calves as the fabric dropped off the side of the bed. His lips were on yours in an instant, no more pretense necessary as you let his thick tongue part your lips and make a home in your mouth. It was messy and heated, your heart hammering as you tried to keep yourself under control.

The feel of two long fingers pressing hard against your clit had you arching up into him, a whine ripping from your throat and into his mouth as he licked the skin of your bottom lip. He circled slippery fingers once, twice, and one final time against your bundle of nerves before he slid his fingers inside of you without warning and up to the knuckle. You gasp harshly, pulling away from his mouth to dig your nails in the skin of his trapezius muscles.

“Such a wet little thing, you’re dripping.”

He fingered you with a finesse that had you trembling, the pads of his submerged fingers finding that spongy wall inside of you within a second before he was curling up, shooting burning pleasure through your core to pool at the base of your spine. He was relentless, curling over and over, thumb rubbing against your clit, his sharp eyes watching in concealed wonder as your moans grew in pitch, unflinching as your dug your nails harder into his skin.

“More Kento.”

You had planned to beg on his cock, you at least thought you would get that far. But the pleasure had come early just from his fingers alone and your dignity was in shambles. He tilted his head in confusion, a muscular arm still shifting with movement as he slowed down his ministrations.

“I thought I was giving you more?”

You whimpered hard in frustration, eyebrows pinching together and eyes prickling with the urge to build with tears. You blinked them away before they could form, frowning up at him.

“Stop it. You’re being unfair—”

He cut you off before you could beg any further, his eyes hard and the hand in your hair tightening fractionally as he spoke.

“You’re going to cum on my fingers and on my tongue, and then I’ll fuck you, darling.”

It was all you could ask for and still not enough.

“But—”

“Stop making demands when all you’ve done is tease.”

His tone was dark, heavy with lust and firmness as his fingers gave a sudden curl inside of you, pulling a loud moan from your mouth.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Even with the haze in his mind, his concern was evident on his face. Always thinking of you, even when every part of his body wanted to bury inside of you. You smiled up at him, shaking your head as the childish frustration billowed away in the hot air between you.

“Never. I’m just being a brat.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Something you seem to do well.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, reveling in the chuckle that rumbled against your chest from him. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, soft and reassuring to counteract the firmness he had given you just moments ago. When he pulled away, he brushed his lips against your nose, smiling softly as he looked down at you.

“If it’s ever too much, if I hurt you in any way or if you want to stop, tell me at once.”

You nodded quickly, anticipation beginning to bubble in your gut for the millionth time that night. He pursed his lips in disapproval, the fingers stilling inside of you immediately. You whimpered harshly, teeth digging into the skin of your lip as you fluttered your eyes up at him.

“Speak to me. I need you to use your words.”

“Y-yes. I promise, I’ll tell you if I want you to stop or if it’s too much.”

The disapproval fell from his face and disappeared in the heady scent of his cologne around you, a smirk etching in its place as he kissed your lips.

“Good girl.”

The praise was dizzying, his emotions were practically giving you whiplash as you struggled to keep yourself grounded as his lips trailed down your neck, sucking the skin to leave yet another mark before he licked over the spot in satisfaction. You buried your fingers in the pillow beneath your head, panting heavily as you watched him—eyes locked with his—as that familiar thick and wet tongue slid down your skin, gathering the salt between the valley of your breasts, over the gentle swell of your stomach and down to your throbbing cunt. His eyes stayed on yours, your skin heating with an intensity that was making you faint as you watched him use the hand not inside of you slide beneath your knee, pushing it up and over his shoulder. You obeyed his unspoken command to not look away even as he dug his straight teeth into the skin of your inner thighs, pulling a sharp gasp from you that grew in pace as he kissed closer and closer before his tongue licked a smooth strip up your clit, dipping between the two fingers submerged in you to join the heat inside. The moan that left you was broken and deep, satisfaction sliding into the air from your mouth.

You were beautiful, he thought to himself as he watched you; panting and moaning from your place on the sheets above him as his tongue stroked inside of you, alternating with the movement of his fingers. Your hands were buried in the pillow beneath you, pulling the fabric hard to cushion against your ears as your teeth dug harshly into your skin, your lips swollen and red. You wouldn’t last long, the increased blood circulation from pregnancy had left you sensitive and engorged all over, the pleasure ten times more intense, more sensitive, your cunt throbbing from every touch and that familiar white hot pleasure beginning to curl more at the base of your spine. You could feel the muscles in your legs and back begin to tighten, your stomach clenching and bunching with every stroke of his tongue on your clit and every curl of his fingers against your g-spot.

You were barely coherent as you felt the promise of your first orgasm of the night make its intentions known, your legs twitching and chest heaving as you felt your back begin to arch. He was a man starved as he ate you out, the thick muscle of his tongue brushing against your bundle of nerves at just the right pressure, his fingers twisting at just the right speed.

“One more, baby. Let me stretch you out so you can take me.”

You nodded obediently, slack jawed and panting up into the air as you felt another finger slide inside of you, stretching you to the point where you could only shake out a disbelieving moan, eyes squeezing tight as the pleasure began to race down your spine and into your cunt. Your hands flew into his hair, burying inside of thick and soft locks and pulling him closer to you, the action making him groan against your clit. The vibration only served as a kick start to bringing your orgasm forth, your moans climbing higher and higher in pitch until you felt him curl those three fingers one last time, bursting the gates open.

You cursed harshly into the air, hips writhing against his still moving fingers and tongue as your orgasm pooled down your legs and back into your blood, ready to circulate again when he was inside of you. Kento was practically rutting into the mattress, using any sort of friction to soothe the throbbing of his cock and disgusting thoughts of being inside of your tight heat as he slid his fingers out of you and crawled back up your body.

You watched him breathlessly as he popped a finger in his mouth one by one, sucking the juices of you from his skin. You reached for his wrist to stop him, wrapping your hand around it and pulling his hand toward you before you slid the last slick covered finger into your mouth, twirling your tongue around the appendage and admiring your own taste.

“Shit.”

The hiss from his lips was full of surprise as he watched you pop his finger from your mouth and push his hand back down to your cunt, pressing against you insistently before you whispered words to him that he had been dreaming for weeks.

“Fuck me.”

He hissed out another curse, sliding a pillow beneath your hips and making you comfortable above all else even though his blood was pounding in his ears, cock twitching to the point of pain. Your hands were burning on his skin, trailing up his chest to bury at the nape of his neck as you felt him press against your entrance, hot and leaking.

He kept his gaze on your hooded eyes as he pressed his hips forward, pushing into you slowly, groaning deeply at the feel of your muscles contracting around him as he made his way inside. Your eyes fluttered harshly, fingers digging into his nape as you felt the muscles in your cunt throb and pulse around him. He was right to finger you with three fingers, but even with that, the stretch of him was intense and overwhelming, bordering on a faint sense of pain that you had to pant your way through. He paused to let you adjust, both of his hands bunching the fabric of your pillows on either side of your head.

“God you’re so tight,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you softly and trying to will the perverted thoughts away. They were pleading with him to slam his hips into you, listen to you moan hard and beg for him to let you cum, scratch at the skin of his chest as he pounded you into the mattress. But it’s been months, and your comfort was more important to him above all else.

The small whimper from your throat pulled him back into the present, kissing your nose softly as he looked down at you.

“You’re doing so well, baby and I’m almost there. Can you take the rest for me?”

You nodded before speaking quickly instead as you remembered what he had asked of you earlier.

He inched further into you, the stretched muscles giving way a little more, pleasure taking its place as you finally felt his hips press against yours. Kento watched you whimper below him, eyes misting over as you squeezed his cock tight, begging for him to move not a second later. His thrusts were slow and calculated, measuring your comfort as he moved in and out of you, using your facial expressions as a compass for what felt okay to avoid hurting the life growing between you both. Even though he could feel you tense below him, your eyes were heavy, mouth open and panting as you trailed your hands down to his biceps.

“Relax for me, darling. Just a little.”

He grabbed your hip, using sudden strength to keep them steady, forcing your body to sag into the bed and his cock to sink into you further, pulling a loud moan from your lips.

“More—more Kento.”

He obeyed you immediately, picking up his pace and stretching the rings of muscles squeezing him like a vice. Your pulse was racing, your heart fluttering like a bird in your ribcage as moan after moan fell past your lips like water. He was hitting spots in you that no other man before could ever touch, handling you with care with the life inside of you but also fucking you with an intensity that had all sense of modesty splintering from you with each steady thrust of his hips.

“I’ve waited almost six months for this.”

The confession hung in the air between you both, no longer shocking you but still a surprise to hear, nonetheless. His blonde locks hung heavy over his forehead, a few tendrils pressing to the skin from the building sweat. His pupils were blown out considerably, lust and arousal oozing from them and falling down onto your skin. A scalding hand grabbed the flesh of one of your thighs, pulling your leg around his waist and sinking himself a little further into you.

“You would be ashamed of how vulgar I’ve been. I think about being inside of you all the time.”

He leaned down, crashing his lips to yours before he pulled away and licked up the side of your neck, panting heavy hot air against your ear.

“I think about how you felt around me that night every day when I’m at work, in the morning when I go for a run, in the shower when I have my hand wrapped around my cock…”

Your cunt fluttered around him, your reservoir of pleasure bubbling from the heat of your skin, spilling over the edges as each thrust began to push against the hard barrier of a rewarding orgasm. The hand holding up your leg smoothed down your skin to the crease of your thigh, angling your hips in a way that had him brushing against the sponginess of your g-spot harshly.

“Oh fuck, right there!”

He obeyed you quickly, adjusting his thrusts to only hit where you wanted him, marveling at your breathy demands. You should have been wincing in pain from the constant onslaught on such a sensitive area, but instead tears were pooling in your eyes, the pleasure squeezing your hips and thighs and lips of your cunt as you moaned unashamedly into the air of your bedroom.

“So fucking beautiful.”

You couldn’t help the yelp that left your mouth, cheeks coloring in embarrassment as you bit the corner of your lip, giving way for the moans to leak from the side of your mouth. You cunt gave another flutter around him, legs tensing and toes curling as brush after brush of his tip against that spot inside you had the tears finally spilling from the corners of your eyes. Your curls were wild beneath you, pooling on the pillow and sticking to the sweat on your face and neck.

“You don’t believe me?”

The hand at your hip grabbed an arm that was around his neck, bringing the skin of your wrist to his mouth before he pressed a soft kiss against your pulse. The breath leaving his mouth was quick against your skin, growing heavy and incessant with each pump inside of you. You couldn’t answer him, your throat was too busy pushing heavy moans out between pinched lips, eyes weighty with tears as you blinked them away constantly. You knew you were beautiful, but it was always scary to think about in such a vulnerable position like what you were in now, open and sweaty and aroused.

“I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else. And now you’re finally beneath me; sweaty and messy and moaning like the sweet little thing you are. And all mine.”

Your heart was soaring, mind racing and barely functioning from the heat that was frying the tissue. Every nerve had been exposed and frayed from his intense gaze and heavy touch, every inch of you had been laid bare for him to gawk at, pick at, lick at until you were nothing more than a bubbling mess.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?”

His tone was hard and firm, demanding that you acknowledge your own vulnerability and face it head on as he plowed into you with renewed fervor, your cunt quivering once before squeezing him tightly.

“Y-yes!”

He growled beneath his breath, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Yes, what?”

He pressed his cock harshly to the spongy wall of your g-spot, pulling a wet moan from your lips as you arched your back and sobbed in pleasure, your lower back tightening.

“I’m yours! I’m yours!”

The admission slipping from your lips filled you with a sensation of warmth, marveling at the thought of him only wanting this with you.

“That’s right, baby. You’re right there, I can feel it.”

His acknowledgement seemed to spur you on, the tight muscles of your back heating and burning beneath your skin, your legs twitching and pussy pulsating around him as you felt that white hot sensation burn you from the inside out.

“Gonna cum—I can’t! Oh god, I’m gonna cum K-kento!”

You were clenching him constantly, pulling groans from his full lips and refusing to be ashamed as you choked on your breath, toes curling into the sheets and head pressing into the pillow behind you.

“Take what you want from me, darling. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”

You felt a thumb dip down to gather the wetness around your cunt before he stroked once then twice on your clit, yanking the orgasm from your spine.

His name fell from your lips, tears leaking from the sides of your eyes as the pleasure ebbed and flowed over your skin, licking away the dying embers as your muscles loosened and relaxed and you came floating back into your body.

You were eyes were heavy and your chest was heaving to catch your breath; satisfied and exhausted but still ready for more so he could cum.

Kento pulled out of you slowly before rolling you both over, your body now on top of him and still panting against his chest as he moved you both back so that he could sit up and rest against the headboard of your bed. You pulled away from his sweaty skin to look at him; exhausted and satisfied heaving breaths hitting his face as you pulled your hips up to hover over him. His cock was throbbing and red and wet from your arousal, twitching incessantly and begging to be wrapped in your heat again as you dragged your puffy and quivering pussy along the thick head of his tip. You smashed your lips against his, licking into his eager mouth as you sank down onto him in one fluid movement, leaving no time for him to adjust at the sudden sensation.

Large hands wrapped around your waist, squeezing hard to ground himself from the onslaught of the tightness that you encompassed. He pulled away from the wet kiss, hissing deeply from the feel of you, a soft moan panting hot into your mouth before he was guiding your movements on top of him, helping you slide up and down his shaft, the action easy from the soaked juices of your folds.

It took less than a minute before you were a woman possessed, bouncing on his cock with not a care in the world. Kento was struggling to keep up, hands slipping on the sweat of your skin as he gripped you harshly, angling your hips in a way that had him sinking deeper without causing discomfort.

His hair was a mess, more locks stuck to his face and forehead, eyebrows pinched in concentration, full lips parted slightly as he panted against you.

Suddenly you felt his hands dig into the cheeks of your ass, digging his fingers into the plushness of your skin and angling your back to arch your body into him so he could slip inside further.

“You feel so fucking good. So, so good. Hot and wet and tight, such a good girl.”

You were delirious with pleasure as you listened to him, basking at the feel of his thick cock sliding along your gummy walls that were quaking with overuse. You were overstimulated beyond belief, quivering against him and teetering between pleasure and sensitivity, lips brushing against his with every bounce on his length. The thickness of him and the feeling of being split open stoked some primal fire inside of you, your clit throbbing unexpectantly as it brushed against the skin of his abdomen over and over, the sensation making you shake.

You were going to cum again.

Your eyes were wide with disbelief, but your body had a mind of its own, determined to bring you to nirvana one last time before you passed out against him. Your jaw went slack, hands digging into his hair to anchor yourself as you rode him with a newfound fervor that had him reeling.

He was in awe of you as he watched you take control, thigh muscles bunching and clenching with your movements, never ceasing even though they began to quake in pain. The smell of sex in the air, the feel of your hot skin against his, your gold necklace slapping against your collarbone, nipples brushing against his chest, slick from your pussy sliding along his shaft and down his balls, it was all too much. He felt faint, head foggy with lust and a steady coiling pleasure in his stomach and balls that was making his muscles ache.

Suddenly the sounds coming from your mouth morphed into words, quiet and whispered against his lips as you spoke with unfocused eyes.

“So big—so big, split—splitting me open. I’m so full. More, more, more.”

The words were falling from your lips, uncaring if he or anyone else heard them, cheeks red from exertion and stained with drying tears, hair clinging to your face, nails digging into his scalp as you rode him with only one goal in mind.

He realized with a satisfied thought that you were using him, taking him in whatever way you wanted for your own pleasure as your blown out and unfocused eyes stayed locked with his.

He hissed your name, the familiar feeling of his balls tightening egging him on. As quiet and serious of a man as Kento was, he was surprisingly vocal as his groans increased in consistency.

“Tell me how well I’m fucking you.”

His command sliced through the air between you both, forcing you to come back to reality just a little bit. You were already delirious with pleasure, brain barely functioning as the weak embers of your impending orgasm steered your bravery to let the words tumble from your lips.

“You’re fucking me so well. Big and thick and fucking me just how I like. Keep going, Kento. Don’t stop.”

He groaned harshly into your mouth, eyebrows furrowing severely as he chased his release and equally yours, his cock hitting that spot inside you ceaselessly and pulling tears to your eyes again as you felt your body alight with fire.

You were steadily chanting into the air, breathy and delirious whispers of don't stop, don't stop, please don't stop sliding into his ears, making his heart hammer against his chest, his fingers clench harder into your skin, his desire for you swelling and spilling over the edges of his seal of control.

He reached between you both, stroking your clit at a rate that had you throwing your head back and hollering into the night air. He watched your Adams apple bob and stutter inside of your throat, moans piercing his ears as your entire body seized and you fell over the cliff of ecstasy for the final time of the night.

His name fell from your lips in a broken cry, fingers wet from the sweat in his hair, squeezing and pulling from the tautness of your muscles. Your head was swimming through the thick fog of pleasure as you came back down from your high, throat dry and stuck as you swallowed your dying moans, your body still moving atop of him as you realized through your haze that he still hadn't cum.

A sharp groan from him pulled you a little more into yourself, gentle moans still leaving your mouth on a staccato from the force of his thrusts up into you. He had taken control of your body completely, squeezing the flesh of your ass and bouncing you on his cock with a fervor that made your entire body jolt from each thrust. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, whimpering and moaning against his cheek, exhaling heavily against his face before you leaned over and pulled his earlobe into your mouth, biting down on the skin. He flinched against you, groaning from surprise and arousal as you licked over the bite marks of his ear.

“You can do it, Ken, hmm?”

You were mad with satisfaction, fucked loose and sweaty and reveling in his sudden sharp breaths and moans against your neck and as he climbed further and further towards his end.

You were encouraging him, breathing hard and heavy into his ear, clenching your core around him in a way that made him see white, the tightness in his balls making dark spots form at the sides of his vision. You weren't like this that night at the hotel. You were drunk and moaning, glaring at him at every chance you could get even though your eyes were rolling with ceaseless pleasure.

But now you were completely yourself; hot and messy, clinging to him until there was no space between you both, dripping slick on every part of his groin and thighs, moaning and whimpering into his ear yes, yes, please, cunt clenching him to the point of delicious pain.

The thought of being able to have this with you for the unseeable future had him bucking up into you harder, faster, deeper into your pussy until you wailed in his ear, tears spilling over your cheeks as your felt yourself clench impossibly tighter around him.

“That’s it, Kento. Beat this pussy up until I’m sore. Fill me up.”

Your words caught him off guard, unearthing a deep seated part of his brain that he didn’t want to acknowledge as his orgasm pulled from behind his belly button and ripped through him.

“Shit—shit—fuck!”

He moaned hard against the skin of your neck, squeezing you tightly as you felt him twitch harshly and spill into your wet heat, the warmth of it making you moan softly into the sweaty skin of his neck. You relaxed against him, sagging into his chest as you both basked in the comfortable silence of the cooling temperature of your bedroom, only your heaving breaths filling the air. You felt him press a warm kiss to your temple, pulling you back to look at him.

You soaked in the sight of him; forehead sweaty and matted with soaked blonde hair, a heavy ruddy color in his cheeks, his lips swollen and red. The brown of his eyes was returning as he down at you with a warmth that made your chest bubble with an emotion you either couldn’t place or wouldn’t acknowledge right now. He looked…blissfully happy. And it was evident more as a close lipped smile slid onto his face when he leaned down to press his lips to yours. You found your fingers carding through the hair on the nape of his neck, massaging and stroking his scalp as he pulled away to look down at you, his serious expression laced with a finality of what you both had just done.

You hummed, looking up at him before pursing your lips, your lids heavy with idyllic satisfaction and exhaustion.

“Not bad, slick.”

Kento chuckled harshly against your cheek before landing a smack to your ass that had you gasping up against him, giggles bursting from your throat at the shock and excitement as you watched him roll his eyes dramatically and slide out of you with a playful glower before carrying your still giggling form to the bathroom.

***

You realized with shocking—and satisfying—clarity that Kento was clingy, especially after sex. He had always hovered around you in public and even alone before you two had started putting your hands on each other, but now that an orgasm and acknowledged feelings were in the picture, his hands never stopped reaching for you. He couldn’t keep to himself in the shower, using your ‘fragile state as the mother of his child’ (his words, not yours) as an excuse to wash your body. He tried his best to feel on you through the soft fabric of your towel as he dried you off, quiet and observing as he wiped the pellets of water from your skin. He did give you space when you put on lotion, content to watch you with silent curiosity, a towel hanging low on his waist, as you lathered shea butter into your skin, paying extra care to the swell of your stomach.

You didn’t mind at all. He wasn’t overbearing in the slightest, you could tell he was making up for lost time. But you loved it all the same.

It turns out he really was serious about that movie he had brought up earlier in the night You watched him open Netflix on your laptop, eyes practically bulging from your skull as he pressed play for a movie that you would have never imagined him taking a second glance at.

“The Proposal?”

He looked back at you with a straight face, eyes indifferent and relaxed, his drying hair flopping against his forehead. His torso was bare, muscles bunching as he twisted back towards you, grey sweatpants—you thanked Ome mentally for liking to sleep in big clothes—stretching against his thighs as he pulled himself back towards your pillows and manhandled you to sit between his legs with your back to his chest.

“Is there something wrong with The Proposal?”

His voice rumbled against your back as you watched him use his foot to bring your computer closer, the movie beginning to play.

You flinched for a second as his hands carded through your curls, ignoring the cut reaction to smack his fingers away, and staying quiet as he parted down the middle and separated the hair into sections before putting your hair into long three strand braids and sliding the bonnet from underneath your pillow onto your scalp.

“H-how did you—”

“While many may think I am aloof, I do not thrive on being arrogant and misinformed about others who are not like me. Our daughter will be half Black which means things will be different for her in a way unlike everyone else. That includes her hair which needs unique care to be healthy. So I’ve been…watching videos.”

He cleared his throat, thankful you couldn’t see just how red his cheeks were as his fingers pressed down into the small of your back, massaging the sore muscles and undoing any kinks from the exhausting sex you both had basked in.

You couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face, your cheeks aching from the stretch, chest filling with warmth as you watched the movie in front of you.

You knew Kento was a different breed, but it felt so good to see it, to hear it from him. It felt good to imagine him hunched over, eyes squinting in concentration as he watched a YouTube guru on his television show him what a washday routine looked like. It felt good to think of your daughter in the same position you were in now; between his legs and watching tv as he braided her hair before bed. You cursed inwardly, blinking furiously as you felt a tingle in your eyes, willing away the tears before they could build.

“You’ll be a good father, Kento.”

The conclusiveness in your voice was enough to reassure him as he pressed further into the flesh of your back, humming in acknowledgement. He watched the movie in silence, eyes locked on the screen and arm moving fluidly as he rubbed your skin, watching as Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds bickered with one another.

“Why this movie?” You found yourself asking, unable to hide the curiosity for long. You felt him shrug from behind you.

“It’s one of my favorites.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, forcing yourself to remember this moment so you could tell Ome tomorrow. Nanami Kento may be serious and indifferent with a face that barely conveyed how he was really feeling, but you had gotten to see almost everything that others would never get to. They wouldn’t get to watch reality tv with him or try to bargain pieces of his R&B collection. They wouldn’t get to know that he liked cheese pizza with no toppings and thick crust.

Not even now would they be able to marvel at the rare low laugh that fell from his open lips, deep in his gut and free flowing against your neck, your body shaking with the force of him as both the main characters ran stark naked into each other on the screen of your laptop.

This Kento was reserved only for you.

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