Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Fuck, ‘Kuma, we’re so late!”

Running through a crowded street in high heels and cursing at one of your closest friends was NOT how you envisioned your night. You had planned for a relaxing evening—a nice bath with lots of foam, a drink, a cigarette, and some takeout to celebrate the end of an awful week. But Ino Takuma had other plans.

Still running, you fail to notice a puddle on the ground and start to slip, only for Ino to catch your arm in a desperate move.

“For god’s sake, this is NOT the time to fall!” he exclaims.

“If you hadn’t spent an entire hour choosing your outfit, we wouldn’t be in this situation. And I’m not even supposed to be here!” You steady yourself and step away from the puddle, catching your breath.

“Whatever. According to Maps, we’re close.”

Sure enough, the puddle is right across from the venue Ino’s workplace had chosen for the evening. Ino, who works in HR at a well-known Tokyo firm, had been invited to a party celebrating a massive contract win. Employees were allowed to bring a plus-one, and Ino had asked you to come.

At first, you refused. You didn’t work there—hell, you didn’t even work in an office—and you didn’t know anyone except him. But he managed to convince you with promises of free food, fancy alcohol, and a binge-watch session of your favorite movie, even though he hated it.

That’s how you ended up here: at a fancy venue in a little black dress—the only one you own for such occasions—and a pair of high Louboutin heels that were currently torturing your feet.

You’d met Ino a few days after arriving in Japan, at a nightclub. As a foreigner, you hadn’t been allowed into every club in Tokyo, so you’d gone to a well-known one in Shibuya. In the smoking area, Ino had asked if you had a lighter he could borrow. You’d told him to keep it since you had a spare in your bag. That sparked a conversation, and by the end of the night, you’d exchanged phone numbers.

The night was platonic—he never tried to kiss you or act inappropriately, and you hadn’t made a move either, despite finding him charming. You’d just spent the night dancing and chatting. After several smoke breaks and drinks, you told him you wanted to head home. He’d offered to escort you to make sure you got back safely, but you’d declined, instead suggesting coffee the next day. That coffee turned into a friendship that had lasted two years.

Now, however, you were in a far less comfortable situation—late to an event you hadn’t even wanted to attend. Ino, annoyingly calm, made your anxiety spike even more. Thankfully, you reached the venue two minutes later, the music audible from the street.

“Shit, we missed the speeches,” Ino muttered.

“Is that bad? Well, for me, it’s not,” you replied.

“For me, maybe. But I think no one noticed I wasn’t there. Smoke break?”

“I won’t smoke, but I’ll keep you company,” you said. Ino raised an eyebrow at your response.

“You know I’m trying to quit, stupid. I’ve only had three cigarettes today, and I’m not going up to four.”

“Sure, sure. Do you have a lighter?”

You sighed, digging into your bag to pull out the lighter tucked inside your pack of cigarettes. Ino grinned as you handed it to him.

“Shut up. If I end up smoking tonight, it’ll be your fault. You know how much I hate being late.”

Ino lit his cigarette in silence while you checked your phone. A missed call from your family. You quickly calculated the time difference and pressed “Call,” speaking in your native language for a few minutes. The conversation was thankfully short, and you hung up as Ino finished his cigarette.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Not ready, but yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

_____________

After an hour and two glasses of champagne, you silently declare that you hate Ino Takuma. You knew he had a crush on a girl from IT, but you never imagined he’d ditch you twenty minutes after your arrival to dance with her. “It’s my chance!” he had said. At least one of you was having fun.

Seated in a comfortable chair around a concentric table—not too far, but not too close to the dancefloor—you sip your third glass of champagne, lazily tracing its rim with your index finger. That’s when you hear a male voice.

“Mind if I sit here?”

You look up and meet brown eyes and blond hair. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of his face. His lips curve into a half-smile as he waits for your answer.

“The seat’s not taken. Please, be my guest.” You chuckle softly. His smile widens, and he sits down next to you.

“You’re not from the firm, are you? Or are you new, and I just haven’t seen you before?”

“No,” you chuckle again. “I’m here as Ino Takuma’s plus-one. I’m actually a teacher in Tokyo.” You give him your first name. As a foreigner, it’s easier to offer your first name, even though it’s customary in Japan to introduce yourself with your last name. Besides, you don’t mind people addressing you informally.

“Pleasure to meet you.” He takes your hand and brushes it with a light kiss, making your heart flutter. “My name is Kento.”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised that he also gave you his first name, but you don’t comment on it.

“Your Japanese is really good. I’m impressed,” he says.

“Thank you,” you reply. “I studied it for a few years before moving to Tokyo two years ago. I just hope people can understand me.”

He smiles warmly. “Don’t worry; you’re very understandable.”

The conversation flows to your respective jobs. Kento mentions he’s been working at the firm for a few years and shares his job title. Since you’re unfamiliar with how such companies operate, you nod politely as the topic shifts.

Your arm tattoos are on full display—black and gray patterns inked during your travels abroad, with a few done in Japan. Normally, you’d cover them with a jacket or UV sleeves, but you left your jacket at Ino’s apartment before heading out. Kento’s eyes linger on your arms, and anxiety begins to creep in. Tattoos are still somewhat taboo in Japan, and you worry your oversight might cause problems for Ino at work. You lower your head, mumbling an apology.

“I’m sorry. I forgot my jacket...”

“Why? Are you cold? Do you want mine?” His concern catches you off guard.

“No, no, keep it! It’s just... you’re staring at my arms. I don’t want my tattoos to be a problem for Ino. He loves his job, and I—”

Kento gently lifts your chin with his finger, cutting you off. Goosebumps rise on your arms, and you silently pray he doesn’t notice.

“They’re not a problem. I was just admiring them. Do you mind?”

“Mind what—oh.”

His finger moves from your chin to your left arm, tracing the intricate patterns. You freeze, unsure of how to react. His touch is featherlight, and he takes his time exploring the designs near your hand. The goosebumps on your arms are impossible to miss now.

“I’m just not used to seeing inked arms. They’re beautiful.”

He asks a few questions about the tattoos, and you happily explain the designs and the countries where you got them. You also mention your piercings, and to your surprise, Kento gently tucks a strand of hair behind your right ear to get a better look.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “I wanted to see what you were describing. Do they use needles for piercings, too?”

“No problem.” You smile. “Yes, they use needles, but it’s not that painful once you’re used to it.”

He laughs at your response. “I see.”

“Do you have any tattoos or piercings?” you ask.

“Not at all. I think I prefer admiring them on others rather than having them on my own skin.”

You nod, taking another sip of champagne as he continues speaking.

“So, you came with Ino. How long have you two been together?”

You nearly spit out your champagne. “What?”

“I don’t mean to intrude, but it seems odd that you’re sitting here alone while he’s... somewhere else.”

Oh, fuck. He thinks I’m in a relationship with Ino? You couldn’t say the thought had never crossed your mind—after all, even your parents regularly asked if you were finally dating him. But Takuma was just your best friend. Annoying sometimes, sure, but still just your best friend. Nothing more. You clear your throat.

“Oh, Ino’s not my partner. He’s my best friend. We’re not dating. In fact, he’s on the dancefloor right now with a girl from IT. I’m just here for moral support, free alcohol, and because he promised to watch The Devil Wears Prada with me later this weekend.”

Kento chuckles. “The Devil Wears Prada?”

“It’s my favorite American comedy! I was supposed to watch it tonight after a long bath, but Takuma dragged me to this party as his plus-one. Should I mention that he spent an hour choosing his outfit while I was already dressed and makeup done?”

You both laugh, the shared amusement easing the tension.

“That’s such an Ino thing,” Kento says, shaking his head. “Once, he showed up late to a meeting because he fell asleep on the subway and missed his stop.”

You laugh harder. “He never told me about that!”

Kento finishes his drink, his tone becoming noticeably flirtier. “So, Ino’s not your partner. Do you have someone here in Japan, then?”

You take a sip of champagne, smirking at the thinly veiled question. “Nope. Free as a bird since I came to Tokyo. I don’t have much free time with work, and when I do, I’d rather relax than go on dates. Why? Are you interested?”

You chuckle, and Kento leans in closer, your knees now touching. His smirk deepens. “What if I am?”

What?! You’d been smirking, thinking he was teasing, but he’s actually serious? Well, now’s definitely not the time to chicken out. You place your hand on his arm, smiling.

“Well, I’m flattered. And, honestly? I can’t say I’m not interested.” You drain your champagne glass in one go, hoping your ears aren’t as red as you suspect.

“I was hoping for that,” Kento says, his tone playful yet sincere. “It would’ve been awkward if you weren’t, but I wouldn’t have insisted.”

You squeeze his arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I am.”

He places his hand over yours. “Shall we go somewhere quieter? For another drink?”

You chuckle. “Sure. Let me just let Takuma know I’m leaving.”

You give his arm another squeeze and stand, wobbling slightly in your heels—three glasses of champagne in one hour and the shoes from hell were not a good combo. Spotting Ino on the dancefloor, you head over and tap him on the shoulder, only to have him practically shout in your ear, “It’s her! It’s her!”

You laugh. “Yeah, I figured. Look, I’m heading out.”

“Do you want me to go with you? I can call a ride.” He glances apologetically at his dance partner, who nods in understanding.

“No, no, stay here! I found someone to go with me. I’ll see you tomorrow at my place? Four p.m.?”

“Sure. Go home safe!”

You plant a quick kiss on his cheek and head back to the table, where Kento stands, smiling as you approach.

“Just so you know,” you say, “these heels are awful, and I won’t be able to walk far in them.”

“Don’t worry,” he replies, offering his arm for support. “The car is right here.”

You slip your arm through his. “I can add ‘gentleman’ to your list of qualities.” He chuckles and you continue. “Do you have any flaws?”

“Well, probably. Maybe you’ll see them later.”

______________

The car ride isn’t quiet. Your conversation with Kento continues seamlessly as his left hand rests on your right knee. You let him, offering a subtle smile in response. Ten minutes later, he parks in an underground garage and helps you out of the car. Once again, your arm is interlocked with his as you follow him to the elevator.

“We’re going to the top floor,” he says, pressing the button. You nod in acknowledgment.

You’re in Ginza, one of the most expensive areas in Tokyo, and it’s clear he holds a higher position at the firm than Ino, who lives on the first floor of a modest building in Taito. His arm remains linked with yours, his thumb gently caressing your forearm. You lean your head against his upper arm, straightening only when the elevator doors open. He leads you to his apartment door and gestures for you to enter first, earning a chuckle from you. Really a gentleman.

The apartment is stunning. From the entrance, you can see the sleek kitchen to the left and the living room ahead, with its breathtaking view of the city. You gasp, unable to contain your awe, and hear Kento chuckle softly behind you.

“Quite nice, right?”

“It’s way better than the view from my apartment, where all I see is the building next door.” You both laugh as you remove your shoes.

“Feeling better?” he asks.

You exhale dramatically. “Yes. I don’t know why I chose to wear these heels—they’re awful.”

“Well, maybe another drink will help you forget the pain.”

“Sure. What do you have?”

“Anything you want.”

You place a hand on his forearm. “Surprise me, then.”

Smirking, you walk toward the window, drawn by the city lights below. Despite the late hour, people still wander the streets, their tiny forms moving purposefully toward unknown destinations. Lost in thought, you don’t notice Kento return until you feel his presence behind you.

“Shit, you scared me!” you exclaim, gasping as he hands you a glass.

He chuckles. The liquid inside is a striking blue, identical to the contents of his own glass.

“Blue Lagoon? I thought you were more of a whiskey guy.”

“I am,” he replies, “but I figured you’d prefer something with vodka over whiskey. Was I wrong?”

You turn slightly, catching his gaze before responding. “Not at all. I actually don’t like whiskey. Cheers?”

He nods, and you toast before taking a sip. The cocktail is delicious, its flavors perfectly balanced. Comfortable silence settles between you as you sip your drinks, staring out at the city. His arm wraps around your waist, his hand resting lightly on your stomach. You lean into him, letting your back rest against his chest, and hum softly in contentment.

When you finish your drink, he takes the glass from you, disappearing briefly into the kitchen. He returns moments later, and you turn to face him, tilting your head to meet his eyes.

“So, when are you going to kiss me?” you ask bluntly, a playful smirk on your lips.

His eyes widen in surprise, and suddenly, doubt creeps in. Shit. What if I’m just used to Western guys taking the lead and I completely misread him? Your smirk fades, and you lower your head, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to what?” He steps closer, gently lifting your chin with his index finger, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. If that’s not what you want, it’s fine—”

“I never said I didn’t want it.”

His response silences you, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. They’re warm, smooth, and taste faintly of whiskey and the cocktail you just drank. Your hands instinctively find their way to his neck, your fingers brushing his undercut. His arm tightens around your waist as your lips move together in sync.

When you gasp softly, he takes advantage, deepening the kiss as his tongue meets yours in a slow, sensual rhythm. Your nails graze his skin lightly, and the kiss grows more intense. His hand moves to your ass, squeezing gently, drawing a quiet moan from you. Desire pools in your core as his grip tightens, and he groans low in response.

After a long moment, he breaks the kiss, his hand sliding from your ass to rest on your lower back. “Bedroom?” he asks simply, and you nod.

He leads you down a corridor with four doors and opens the last one. At his gesture, you step inside first, taking in the bedroom. A king-sized bed—of course—flanked by two nightstands, a desk with a chair, a wardrobe, and several framed artworks decorating the walls. The curtains are drawn back, allowing the city lights to cast a soft glow through the expansive windows. The room is neither too bright nor too dark, creating the perfect ambiance.

He shrugs off his jacket and places it on the chair, and you can’t help but watch him, biting your lip. Damn, he’s buff. He catches your gaze as he returns, smiling. Rising onto your toes, you initiate the kiss this time. He smiles against your lips as his hands move to your back, finding the zipper of your dress.

He unzips it carefully and helps you slip out of it, his eyes lingering on the tattoos gracing your sides.

“So, there were more,” he murmurs, as you stand before him in mismatched lingerie.

“Hope they’re to your liking,” you reply, a touch of mischief in your voice.

“Absolutely.” His hands glide up and down your sides, sending a shiver through you, before he leans in to kiss you again.

Your hands find the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, your fingers grazing his chest in a deliberate tease. You smirk when goosebumps form on his abs—a clear sign he’s enjoying the attention. Once his shirt is discarded alongside your dress, he guides you to the center of the king-sized bed.

A gasp escapes you as his bare torso brushes against your still-clothed breasts. His lips find yours again, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease. His hands travel beneath you, deftly unclasping your bra.

“There’s one more thing...”

“Oh, really? Let’s see then,” he teases, slipping the straps from your shoulders and leaving your chest bare.

Your nipples, already stiff, glisten in the soft city light, adorned with barbell piercings. His eyes darken with intrigue. His hand cups your left breast, squeezing lightly before his thumb brushes over your nipple, drawing a sharp gasp from you.

“They’re... oh, fuck—” you try to speak, but his lips latch onto your right nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. His other hand pinches and rolls your left nipple between his fingers, and you mewl at the overwhelming sensation.

“So good,” you murmur, your voice trembling.

He doesn’t stop, even as your body writhes beneath him, moans spilling freely from your lips. Just as you think you might get a reprieve when he moves away from your right breast, he grins and begins lavishing attention on the left. Your head sinks into the pillows, your hand tangling in his hair as he drives you to the brink with nothing but his mouth and hands.

By the time he finally pulls away, your body is humming, and the evidence of your arousal is undeniable. He looks at you, his gaze lingering on your tousled hair, likely smudged makeup, and flushed cheeks. You smile up at him, breathless.

Standing, he removes his slacks, revealing the prominent bulge straining against his trousers. You part your legs instinctively, allowing him to settle between them. He surprises you again with his next words.

“I want to eat you out. Can I?”

Your eyes widen in astonishment. No one has ever asked you so directly—and it’s incredibly hot. You nod frantically, unable to hide your excitement.

He smiles and begins kissing his way down your body: your nose, lips, neck—leaving a hickey just below your ear—breasts, stomach, until he reaches the waistband of your panties. Hooking his fingers under the elastic, he slides them down, and you lift your hips to help.

You cringe slightly at the slick visible on the fabric, but Kento merely hums in approval, his eyes fixed on your glistening, swollen folds.

“Perfect,” he murmurs.

He locks eyes with you before lowering his head and dragging his tongue in a slow, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your clit. Your hand flies to his head, fingers threading through his hair as you mewl at the sensation. His mouth closes over your clit, sucking gently but with purpose.

“So good,” you breathe, your voice trembling.

He keeps his focus on your clit, alternating between licking and sucking, while one of his fingers lingers near your entrance. He waits for your reaction, gauging your readiness, before you manage to choke out a breathy plea.

“Please, Kento.”

He obliges immediately, slipping one finger inside you with deliberate care while his tongue continues its assault on your clit. A broken whine escapes your lips as your head sinks deeper into the pillow.

Your free hand grips the sheets tightly, your knuckles whitening as he adds a second finger. He groans against you as your walls flutter around him, his movements becoming more urgent.

Your orgasm is building in your belly, your moans growing louder as your body writhes beneath him. His other hand grips your waist firmly, steadying you as he continues his relentless attention on your clit and plunges his fingers inside you. He curls them just right, and you let out a mewl.

“M’close, Ken—Kento, I…”

You can’t finish the sentence before the coil in your stomach snaps. Pleasure washes over you as you cum hard from his tongue and fingers. He doesn’t stop until your body starts to squirm from overstimulation, finally withdrawing his mouth and hand.

He moves up to kiss you, and you faintly taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands trail down his torso, eager to reach his briefs, but he stops you, gently removing your hands. You look at him, confused.

“Let me.”

He stands, and you lift your head to watch him. Your eyes catch the wet patch on his briefs, and your cheeks flush. He moves to the nightstand, retrieving a bottle of lube and a condom, which he places beside your leg. Then, finally, he removes his briefs, leaving himself as naked as you are.

You’re sprawled across the bed, tattoos and piercings on full display, and he takes a moment to appreciate the sight. His hand wraps around his length, stroking lazily as his gaze devours you. This time, you don’t look away. Instead, your hand moves to one of your breasts, your thumb circling a pierced nipple. You let out a soft moan, keeping your eyes locked on his.

He groans at the sight, grabbing the condom and rolling it onto his cock. You watch every movement, anticipation buzzing through you as he settles between your legs, kneeling. His hands grip your waist, lifting your hips slightly, and he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Can I?” he asks.

“Yes, please,” you breathe.

He pushes into you slowly, and you both gasp at the sensation. Fuck, he’s perfect. Your hands clutch his forearms, silently begging him to go deeper, and he obliges, sliding inch by inch into your already-tight heat. When he bottoms out, your moan is like music to his ears, and he exhales sharply.

Leaning in, he kisses you softly, but your need is too urgent.

“Can you move? Please, need you to move.”

One of his hands cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip before he pulls back and starts thrusting. His eyes remain locked on yours, and the intensity makes your breath hitch. You whine and moan his name as he increases the pace. Your sounds shift to broken gasps and cries as your legs wrap around his waist.

Feeling your heels press into his lower back, he groans and leans forward, resting his forehead against your shoulder. His thrusts remain steady and deep, each one driving you closer to the edge. Your hands clutch at him—one gripping the sheets, the other tangled in his undercut, your nails grazing his scalp.

You can hear his heavy breathing and soft groans in your ear, adding to the overwhelming sensations. The coil in your belly tightens dangerously.

“K-Kento, I think I’m…”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours as his left hand cups your breast. His fingers brush the underside before moving to your nipple, toying with the piercing.

“Will you come for me, baby?”

He thrusts once, twice, three times, his voice thick with desire. The combination of his words, his hands, and the rhythm of his hips sends you spiraling. A loud moan escapes you as the coil snaps, and you cum hard, your walls clenching around him. He grunts at the sensation, his pace faltering before he groans your name and finds his release, spilling into the condom as your body trembles beneath him.

You place a hand on his upper back, stroking him gently as he kisses you, his hips slowing but still moving slightly. After a moment, he stills completely, pulling out carefully. You both wince at the sensitivity.

“Are you okay? Was I too rough?” he asks, his voice soft with concern.

You smile lazily, your body still tingling.

“No, you were perfect.”

His ears turn a faint shade of red, and your smile widens.

“Let me toss this, and we’ll shower.”

“Good idea.”

He discards the condom in the bin by the desk, then takes your hand, helping you up. Your legs are shaky, but you manage to follow him to the bathroom. Once inside, he hands you a clean towel and some cotton pads to remove your makeup.

He starts to leave the bathroom, but you pout.

“You’re not joining me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Well, yes, unless you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” he replies with a soft smile.

In the shower, you start by relaxing under the warm water, leaning your back against his chest while his arm wraps securely around your belly. He gently washes your hair, but when you try to return the favor, his height makes it too awkward. He ends up washing his own hair while you apply conditioner to yours.

He pours shower gel into his hands, rubbing it over your body with a firm yet tender touch, paying special attention to your breasts. Before long, you’re moaning softly, your body writhing against him. One of his hands moves lower, cupping your mound. His skilled fingers and the palm of his hand coax you to another orgasm right there in the shower. As pleasure courses through you, only one thought occupies your mind: How can I leave this man tomorrow morning? When you finally catch your breath, you turn to kiss him, your hands wrapping around his throbbing length.

“You don’t have to,” he murmurs.

“What if I want to?” you tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

He gives you a small smile and lets you take over, his quiet grunts and moans mixing with your name and “baby” as you bring him to climax, his release spilling onto your stomach. You pull him close by the nape of his neck, kissing him deeply, your tongues tangling. Afterward, you both take the time to truly wash each other’s bodies.

Later, he hands you a T-shirt and boxers to sleep in. You refuse the boxers, claiming you prefer sleeping without underwear. Crawling under the sheets, you rest your head on his chest as he lazily lifts the shirt you’re wearing to trace the tattoo on your side. You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake up, you’re the little spoon, Kento’s arm draped over your stomach, his hand gently cupping your breast. You feel his hard-on pressing against your backside and smile to yourself before drifting off again.

When you wake for the second time, it takes a moment to remember where you are. Right, I’m in a penthouse in Ginza, and I just spent the best night of my life with one of my best friend’s colleagues.

You notice Kento’s absence from the bed. After a quick trip to the bathroom, you put on the clean briefs he left for you on the chair and follow the smell of coffee to the kitchen. There he is, leaning against the counter in a black T-shirt and gray sweatpants, sipping coffee and scrolling on his phone. Your stomach does a little flip at the sight. You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his torso in a hug, which he accepts with a chuckle. Resting your cheek against his chest, you linger for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Do you want coffee?”

“Please. I can’t live without it,” you reply with a grin.

He laughs and pours you a mug. Even the morning after, nothing feels awkward. When he asks for your number, you accept with a big smile.

You call an Uber, and after one, two, three goodbye kisses, you leave for your apartment. You’re still in your dress, but this time with briefs on and one of his sports jackets draped over your shoulders.

Back home, you take another shower, change into comfortable clothes, and order takeout. A quick nap on the couch is interrupted by the sound of your door intercom buzzing. It’s Ino, and you greet him with a big hug, which he happily reciprocates.

“Damn, aren’t you happy to see me?” he teases with a grin.

“Yes, I am. The Devil Wears Prada is ready!”

His smile falters slightly, but he follows you inside, grabbing a beer from the fridge before settling on your couch.

“So, about the IT girl?”

“Well…” He takes a sip before smirking. “She left my apartment this morning.”

You chuckle. “Hope you asked for her number?”

“Obviously.”

You take a sip of water, but when you lean forward to place your glass on the table, Ino nearly spits out his beer.

“What’s on your neck?” He leans closer, brushing your hair aside. “A hickey? What did you do after you left the party?”

You take your time reclining on the couch, giving him a calm yet mischievous look.

“Same thing as you, apparently.”

“Please don’t tell me you left with Naoya Zenin. I cannot stand that asshole.”

“Nope, not Naoya. I already knew better than that, thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome. So who was it, then?”

You exhale, realizing there’s no escaping this conversation.

“He didn’t tell me his last name, but his first name is Kento. Ring any bells?”

This time, Ino actually spits out his beer, spluttering in disbelief.

“Takuma, be careful! I cleaned the apartment two days ago!” you exclaim, handing him tissues to clean himself up while you quickly wipe the coffee table.

Once composed, he looks at you, wide-eyed. “Excuse me—did you say Kento? As in Kento Nanami, one of the big bosses?”

Your stomach drops. Just then, your phone buzzes with a new text message.

From: Kento
4:15 p.m.

Are you free on Wednesday evening? I’d like to invite you for dinner.

You stare at your phone, wide-eyed, then glance over at Takuma.

“What do you mean? He never said he was...” Your words trail off, and you decide to reply to Kento’s text later.

Takuma notices your expression and bursts into loud laughter.

“I can’t believe it. You banged my boss—one of the senior executive vice-presidents of the firm! When you said you found someone to leave with last night, I thought it might be Todo, or even Higuruma since he was there. But Nanami-san?”

You shoot Ino a withering look as his laughter dies down.

“Well, congratulations, I guess. A lot of employees have tried their luck with him, but he always turns them down.”

“I need a smoke,” you mutter, cutting him off.

“But I thought—”

“Ino.” Your tone is sharp as you glare at him. “I deserve the cigarette. For fuck’s sake, I slept with your boss!”

He snickers. “Was it good, at least?”

“Not telling you that.” You pause, then sigh. “Okay, fine—the best I ever had. And that text? It was from him. He asked me out for dinner.”

You light your cigarette and move to the window. Takuma joins you a moment later, wrapping his arms around you from behind. You exhale the smoke, feeling his reassuring presence.

“What do I do?” you ask softly. “He was so nice—such a gentleman. And in bed...”

“Everything’s fine. He’s not your boss, he’s mine. Just say yes. It sounds like you two are on the same page.”

You lean back against his chest, letting his words sink in.

“Thanks, ‘Kuma.”

“You’re welcome, Boo. So... in bed?” His laughter rumbles through his chest before it spills out.

You turn around and playfully pinch his stomach.

“I can’t tell you details about your boss’s sex life! But... perfect. Just... perfect.”

The two of you finish your cigarettes and return to the couch. You queue up The Devil Wears Prada and settle in, resting your head on his knees. As he absently plays with your hair, you finally reply to Kento’s text.

To: Kento
4:37 p.m.

I’m free. What should I wear?

Chapter Text

________________

It’s Monday afternoon, and you’re off work. Perfect—you can drag Ino along to help you shop. You’re meeting Kento for dinner in two days, and he’s already sent you the restaurant’s address. Naturally, you looked it up on Google, only to nearly spit water all over your MacBook when you realized it’s one of the most famous—and fanciest—restaurants in Tokyo. Two years of living in this city, and you’ve never managed to book a table there. It’s always full, with reservations needed months in advance.

This time, you need a dress with sleeves. You can’t risk being turned away because your tattoos are visible. Shopping isn’t your thing—you’d much rather order online—but this calls for an emergency outing. Ino grumbles when he finally shows up, finding you waiting by the first shop.

“I was supposed to grab drinks with Todo. Why am I stuck shopping with you?”

“It’s 2 p.m., Takuma. Were you really going to start drinking now?”

“Well, we wanted to debrief about the party.” He winks, and you punch his arm.

“Right, because you’re dying to share juicy updates about your boss hooking up with your best friend.”

“Obviously.” He smirks, and you seriously consider punching his face next time. Let him explain that to his precious IT girl.

“I need a dress with sleeves,” you explain, outlining the situation. He nods knowingly.

“For a place like that, yeah, no showing your arms. You should probably wear your hair down too, just to cover your ears. And maybe avoid a lacy bra.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ino, I’ll kill you.” You punch his arm again.

“Didn’t you ask me to come for advice? That’s what I’m doing, right?”

“The bra comment was unnecessary, thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Boo.”

He kisses your cheek, and despite yourself, you smile. He’s the only one who can get away with comments like that.

You both step inside the shop, where a salesperson greets you immediately.

“Good afternoon! How can I help you?”

You explain your need for a fancy restaurant-appropriate dress that covers your arms due to your tattoos. You specify that you’re open to neutral colors—beige, gray, black, or even dark red. The salesperson nods in understanding and leads you to the fitting rooms while Ino settles into the waiting area.

You’re halfway through taking off your shirt when the salesperson returns with two options. The first is a light gray dress with long sleeves and an open back. You eye the back skeptically but decide to try it on. The material is tight, hugging your breasts and hips uncomfortably, but you step out of the fitting room anyway.

Ino glances up, and the salesperson stands nearby, waiting.

“Erm...”

“Well, you’re hot.”

“Ino!” Your face turns beet red, and the salesperson lowers his gaze awkwardly. You curse yourself for not just ordering dresses online with express delivery. Ino raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, okay. The dress is nice, but the color doesn’t really suit you.” You nod in agreement.

“And the back?” You turn, revealing your bare back and the tattoo running down your spine.

“I see... no bra with this one.”

“Exactly. And the tattoo is visible.”

The second dress is much better. It’s dark gray, with long sleeves and bare shoulders. You could pair it with a strapless bra or even find one in a matching color. The hem stops just above your knees, making it appropriate for the restaurant, and it fully covers your arm tattoos. When you step out of the fitting room, Ino whistles.

“Takuma, I swear to God—”

“Don’t swear in front of the nice salesperson. You’ll embarrass him.”

“Says the guy who just whistled and called me hot, while having an almost-girlfriend.”

“Fine, fine.”

“I think I’ll take this one. I already have some shoes at home that can match this dress, and it meets all the criteria I asked for.” You bow to the seller, and he bows back before stating the price.

“So, this dress is 40,000 yen.” You gulp. Ino notices your reaction and comments.

“Boo, you have to take it! It’s perfect, and he’s going to love it.” You sigh.

“At least I’ll have a dress for another fancy restaurant or office party, I guess. Do you accept international credit cards?”

“Of course, miss. If you're ready, please put your clothes back on, and I’ll process the payment.”

You quickly change back into your own clothes, pay without thinking too much about the price, and then exit the shop.

“Are you done now?” You smirk at him.

“Oh no, we need to go to the lingerie store. I need a strapless bra and matching panties. Last time, I had mismatched underwear because I was just supposed to be your plus one, you know? No one was supposed to see my underwear, but now I want to be the full package.” He gulps, and you laugh. You’re making him pay for his attitude at the clothing store, and you love it.

At the lingerie store, Ino is mortified, and you laugh at his reaction to the female sellers.

“Is it his first time in a lingerie store? Poor guy.”

“It seems so, but he’s totally fine. Don’t worry about him. So, about what I want…”

One hour and 24,000 yen later, you exit the shop, arm intertwined with your best friend’s, and this time, you're done with your shopping. He insists on going for coffee and even pays for it. Sitting at a table, you begin gossiping with him about the evening.

“So, Naoya was so wasted that he had to go to the hospital. He was awful with the nurses, and his father had to slap him.” You choke on your coffee, almost spitting it onto the table.

“No wonder he can’t stay with any woman with an attitude like that.”

“And Miwa found Itadori and Fushiguro kissing in an alley while she was leaving to go to the nightclub with her boyfriend. There were only rumors, but now…”

“Did they make it official? I hope no one will bother them.”

“They didn’t, but no one is paying attention to them. Everyone is focused on the fact that one of the bosses who was there that night left with a woman, some of them even seeing you enter his car.” He winks at you, and you give him the middle finger.

“Thank God I’m not working at this firm. That would have been a pain in the ass, denying everything. Did you tell anyone?” You look at him with concern. You know Ino loves gossiping, especially when it’s not about him directly, but he wouldn’t dare say he knows “the girl who left with one of the bosses,” right?

“Of course not, who do you think I am?” He looks genuinely offended.

“Sorry, ‘Kuma, it’s just… He still hasn’t told me anything. Should I be the one to drop the bomb?” He takes a sip of his coffee, wincing because it’s probably still too hot.

“Maybe you should. See what he has to say about it.” You nod. Ino receives a call from Todo, asking if he’s still coming for drinks after work. He gives you a look, and you just nod. After all, you almost kidnapped him from his work to go shopping with you, and you even managed to embarrass him in a lingerie store. Plus, you still have some exams to grade. Ino ends his conversation.

“Are you coming with me for drinks with Todo?”

“No, I still have some work to do at home, but please go. I know you’ve been waiting for that.” You give him a sincere smile, which he reciprocates. He leaves after kissing you on the cheek and promising to tell you everything about your date this weekend.

__________________

Makeup, check. Hair, check. Dress, check. Shoes? You curse in your native language before putting on black heels. Not the Louboutin ones—you learned your lesson—but a pair you bought in Japan a few months ago. The seller told you, “They are soooo comfortable to wear!” and since you needed heels for an event at your school, you bought them. This time, you're prepared: silicone pads inside the shoes, and you even put some band-aids on your pinky toes. The Uber calls, signaling his arrival, and you take your purse before leaving.

Saying that you weren’t stressed would be a fucking lie. You could throw up inside the Uber because of the anxiety. Even the driver seemed concerned and handed you a tiny bottle of water, which you chugged in one go. The drive felt way too short, and before you knew it, you found yourself opening the door of the car, the driver giving you a thumbs up. You smile weakly at him before exiting.

Even from outside, the restaurant seems fancy, and you already feel underdressed and out of place. You shiver—not because of the weather—but because you can’t see Kento at the entrance. Before you have time to take your phone from your purse, a strong hand rests on your shoulder, and you almost scream.

“Is everything alright?” You turn around to see him and rest your hands on his forearms.

“You scared the shit out of me, that’s it.” You both chuckle.

“Sorry about that.” He takes your hand and kisses it, making your ears turn red. Thankfully, your hair covers them so he can’t see you're flustered. “Shall we go?”

“Sure.”

He offers you his arm, and you take it as you both enter the hall. The receptionists recognize him almost immediately.

“Good evening, Nanami-san, Miss. Do you have a reservation?”

“Sure, for the third floor this time.”

“The elevator is this way, please follow me.”

In the elevator, you lean against his upper arm while he traces patterns on your hand. Your voice breaks the comfortable silence.

“‘This time’? Do you usually go on dates here?” He chuckles.

“I don’t think I’ve ever brought a date here until now.” You smile. “I have some business lunches and dinners on the first floor, which is dedicated to those types of meals. The third floor focuses on more... intimate meals, like dates, for example.” You hum in acknowledgment before the elevator stops.

It’s definitely more intimate than the other floors. There aren’t many tables, and almost all of them seem occupied, but they’re far from each other so you can have a conversation without being overheard. Kento gives his name to the butler, and he leads you to your table next to the huge bay windows. Your eyes widen because, even though you’re on the third floor, you can see a huge part of the district.

“Since you liked the view at my apartment, I asked for this table specifically.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. The view is amazing.”

You’re making simple conversation before the waiter brings the menu. The first thing you notice is that no prices are listed, and you start to panic internally. Obviously, you checked the restaurant’s website before coming, but there were no prices there either. Stupidly, you thought the prices would be listed on the menu at the restaurant, but it seems you’ll have to guess the correct price (and pray that your credit card won’t be declined when it’s time to pay. That could be really embarrassing). Everything is written in Japanese, and there are some kanji that you don’t understand or can’t remember the meaning of. You look at Kento with a startled expression, and he must feel it because he lowers his menu.

“Is everything alright? Do you have allergies we need to inform the waiter about?”

“No, it’s not that. I don’t understand all the kanji, and the translation on my phone won’t be accurate.”

“Do you want to ask for an English menu? Or maybe I can try to explain the ones you don’t understand in English?” Your eyes widen.

“You can do that?”

“Well, I speak English almost every day for work and I frequently travel to English-speaking countries. I think I can try?” He extends his hand to reach yours and brushes the back of your hand with his thumb. “If you still don’t understand, we’ll try with our phones, okay?”

You nod. Why didn’t you think of translating the menu yesterday during the price research? You want to slap yourself for being that dumb. The waiter comes back, and Kento explains that you both need more time to choose, but he can bring back a bottle of sweet white wine. Then he proceeds to explain the kanji you don’t understand, your hand still on his, and you relax a little. Thanks to his knowledge, there are only a few kanji you don’t understand at the end of his explanation, so you refuse to use your phone and focus on a dish that you think you’ll like. You toast with the wine and continue your conversation about work now that you’ve chosen your dish for the night.

“Speaking of work, when were you going to tell me that you’re one of the big bosses of the firm?”

He takes his time sipping his wine, not startled by your blunt question.

“I thought you knew, since I gave you my job title.”

“Well, I’m not working in this type of firm, so I probably misunderstood and thought you were maybe working at a higher position than Ino. I never thought you were... What’s the name? Senior Executive Vice President?” He nods.

“So, Ino told you then?” You sip your wine. There’s no animosity in your tone, nor in his, you’re just trying to understand the situation.

“After he saw the hickey you left on my neck, yes. He spat his beer on my brand new coffee table and said, I’m quoting, ‘I can’t believe you banged my boss.’” He snorts, and you smirk. Your hands are still linked, even when the waiter brings the dishes.

“Very elegant from Ino. Is that a problem for you?”

“What?”

“That I am his boss.”

“Well, as he said, you’re his boss, not mine, so I don’t think it is a problem.”

“Perfect, then.”

You start eating, and as predicted, the food is delicious. Your conversation with Kento never falters, as you talk about work, hobbies, cooking, and even throw in some innuendo here and there. You decline the dessert but ask for a coffee. You’re sipping it when a voice interrupts your conversation.

“Oh, Suguru, look who’s there!” Kento stiffens, and you look at him with a puzzled expression while finishing your cup.

“Gojo.” He doesn’t stand up, barely acknowledging the intruder. Behind Gojo stands another man whom Kento acknowledges more cordially. “Geto, good evening.”

“Good evening, Nanami. It’s surprising to see you on the third floor tonight.” You’re suddenly very focused on your empty coffee cup, trying to shrink to the size of a grain of sand. Gojo turns around and sets his eyes on you before smiling widely.

“This is why you’re on the third floor tonight!” You slowly raise your head, meeting the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. White hair—natural or bleached?—and a shit-eating grin that you don’t really like. His partner, Geto, has black hair and purple eyes—contacts?—and smiles more naturally at you. You return the smile to both of them, trying to be as polite as possible in front of these people you don’t know.

“Apparently. Is there something you’d like to tell me before leaving?”

“Oi, Nanamin, don’t be that eager to see us leave.” He pouts, and you snort. That man is a child. “So, who’s with you?” You decide to introduce yourself, and they nod in acknowledgment.

“Let’s hope we’ll see you next month at the annual party! It could be nice to hear you talk more with that lovely accent.” He winks at you, and you look at him with an impassive expression but still smile lightly.

“Sure, it was nice meeting you, Gojo-san, Geto-san.”

“How polite is she, did you hear, Suguru?”

“She’s not a puppy, Gojo.”

“Sorry about him. We’re just on our way to eat. We’ll see you on Friday at the meeting?”

“Sure.” They both nod to each other before leaving. You exhale loudly before looking at Kento and chuckling together.

“I don’t know who he is, but he’s clearly... something?”

“They are members of the board, so we have frequent meetings to share information. And yes, Gojo is something. Geto is more calm and mature.”

The waiter comes back with the bill, and when you open your purse, he tsks.

“What?”

“You’re not thinking about paying, are you?”

“I... thought so?” He looks at you with a stern look, and you shrink in your seat.

“I invited you, and I have way too much money to spend, so no, you’re not paying tonight.” Your nose wrinkles, but you smile weakly at his statement.

“Fine, fine.”

You both stand up, and he offers his arm again. You try not to look at the price when he pays, but you still notice he just spent around $300 for the dinner. In the elevator, you squeeze his forearm.

“Thank you, Kento, I really appreciate it.” He places a kiss on your forehead, and you grin.

“You’re welcome, baby.” Your heart flutters. “Do you want to have a drink at my place? It’s not too late for you?”

“It’s fine. Will you make another cocktail?” He chuckles.

“If that’s what you want.”

_______________

This time, he hands you a Negroni—with Prosecco in it—and makes you sit on the kitchen counter. He slots between your legs, and you rest your unoccupied hand on his chest. You quickly finish your drink and toy with his shirt collar before he takes your hands.

“I didn’t tell you yet how gorgeous you are tonight.” Your cheeks redden.

“Th-thank you, you look very handsome too.” He smiles before moving a strand of hair behind your ear, exposing the hickey he gave you on Friday night. He places a light kiss on it, and you shudder.

“I didn’t even kiss you,” he says in your neck while placing his arms around your waist.

“What are you waiting for, then?”

Soon, his lips are on yours, and your brain screams, “FINALLY.” Sitting on the kitchen counter, you’re almost at his height, and you don’t have to raise your head much, which is perfect. He squeezes your waist, moves his hands up and down your sides, and you gasp. His tongue plays with yours, and when he reaches your lower back, you can’t prevent the moan that escapes your lips. He nibbles at your lower lip and smiles against your mouth before pulling back.

“Bedroom.” You snort.

“So you’re not taking me on your kitchen counter?” He looks at your entire frame before answering bluntly.

“Not this time. I want to remove this dress entirely before fucking you.”

How can he be blunt and hot at the same time? You don’t comment, but your red cheeks answer for you. The curtains of the bedroom are open once again so you can see what’s going on in the room without turning the lights on. Kento makes you stand in front of him while he sits down on the edge of the bed. He makes you turn around and looks at you with an appraising gaze.

“Do you like the dress? I bought it on Monday.”

“I like it.” You slot between his legs, your hands on his shoulders, still standing. A surge of confidence rises within you, and you continue.

“I bought other things too.” He looks up at you.

“What did you buy?” You smirk before leaning in, your lips near his ear.

“A new set of underwear.” You rise again, watching his pupils dilate. He stands and kisses you again, pushing his tongue into your mouth. You moan while scratching lightly at his neck. He drags his hands over your body, from your shoulders to your sides, then up to your breasts before going down to your ass, which he squeezes. You try to remove the buttons on his shirt, but he doesn’t let you.

“You first. I want to see that new acquisition of yours.” He sits down again, spreading his legs and watching as you remove your dress. He first sees the tanga you chose, then the strapless bra, both made of lace. The tanga is almost transparent because of the lacy material, but the bra is only partially made of lace. You notice his hand on his crotch, readjusting himself, and you smirk a little. Continuing your game, you turn around so he can see your spine tattoo and the curve of your ass, partially hidden by the tanga. You turn again to face him, and he stands up.

“So, is it to your liking?”

“Very.” He places his hands directly on your ass, massaging the globes. He leaves another hickey on your neck, right below the one he made on Friday, and you moan.

“Kento, please…”

“Not yet, baby. I’m still dressed, right?”

You reach for the buttons of his shirt, and soon he removes it, letting you move your hands over his torso and abs before reaching his slacks. This time, he lets you unzip and remove them, and you’re satisfied to see that his member is erect in his briefs. You sit down on the edge of the bed and put your hands on his waist, your fingers brushing the elastic of his underwear.

“Can I? Suck you off, I mean.”

“Only if you want to, you don’t have to.”

“Let me.”

You remove his underwear, and his dick springs free, some precome leaking from it. You lick your lips, look him in the eyes, and give the head a first kiss. He shudders. Your tongue traces his length, and his hand goes to your head, not pushing it but his fingers tangling in your hair. After some teasing, you decide it’s enough and greedily take him in your mouth. His fingers tighten in your hair, but you continue, bobbing your head back and forth, trying to keep your eyes locked with his.

“Fuck, baby, that’s good.”

You hum in reply and continue your movements. You relax your throat and take him deeper, your hands squeezing his waist while you try not to squirm too much. The sounds he’s making are going straight to your pussy, and you try to find some relief, without success, because his legs are between yours, making it impossible for you to rub your thighs together. You feel the wet patch on your underwear growing, and you know that you are drenched. Too soon for your liking, Kento removes his cock from your mouth, and you pout.

“Stand up.”

You obey, and he kisses you again, his hands going straight to your bra to unclasp it. He throws it across the room before taking a look at your breasts, nipples erect and almost shining thanks to your piercings and the city lights. He cups them in his big hands, and his thumbs circle your nipples. You gasp.

“Missed them.” You exhale slowly while he continues playing with them, squeezing and circling them with his fingers and palms.

“The piercings really suit you. When did you get them?” His mouth latches onto your left nipple, and you mewl.

“A fe-few years ago... Fuck.” He hums, and the vibration sends a jolt to your pussy. Your hands grip his neck while he continues his work. His hard cock is brushing against your clothed pussy, and soon you’re moaning. Your whines make him groan, and his hands go to your tanga while he removes his mouth from your nipple.

“Sit on the bed.”

You nod, and he doesn’t waste time. Your tanga is on the floor, and he kneels in front of you, parting your legs to take in the view of your glistening pussy, commenting the obvious.

“Baby, you’re soaked.”

“I... Just for you, Kento.” He traces your slit with his index, and you mewl at the sensation.

“I’m going to eat you out. Do you want that?”

Shit, that’s hot. He raises a brow and smirks. Did I say that out loud? Apparently.

“Yes, please.”

He grabs your ankles and places them on his shoulders, and your upper body falls onto the bed. You barely have time to think “What?” before he’s diving into your folds, directly circling your clit with his tongue. Your upper body falls onto the bed again, and a loud “oooh” escapes from your mouth. Even though you just got back from the restaurant, he eats you out like a man starved. One of your hands grips the sheets, the other tangled in his hair, nails scraping his scalp. He groans at the sensation and inserts a finger inside your throbbing hole. Your grip tightens even more, and he soon adds another finger, curling them inside you. You were already panting, and when he finds your g-spot, brushing it lightly, you cannot help yourself.

“Fuck, Kento, right there!”

You feel his smile against your clit as he pushes his fingers knuckle-deep inside you, toying with your g-spot until you’re cumming on his fingers and mouth without warning. Your legs shake, and you need a few seconds to remember where you are. Kento waits patiently, removing his fingers and mouth when your orgasm falters, gently placing your feet on the floor. You raise your upper body to meet his eyes, and he leans in to kiss you. You’re still panting a little, and he chuckles.

“Are you okay?”

“Fuck yes. I mean... I think this is the best orgasm of my entire life.” He chuckles again before adding “For now” to your statement, and you smile weakly at him.

“Do you still have some energy?”

“For you, always.”

“Alright, go suit yourself on the bed.”

You know that he’s going for a condom and probably some lube, so you take your place on the bed, on all fours. You lean a little, and your forearms rest on either side of your head, face turned to the side to look at him. When he turns, Kento smirks.

“Like that, then?” You can just nod, embarrassed by the fact that your pussy is on full display, up in the air.

“I don’t think we’ll need lube, baby, but just in case, I have it, okay?”

“Yes.” He puts on the condom and kneels behind you. You can feel his hand on your back, his fingers tracing your spine tattoo. His dick brushes against your slit, and you mewl.

“Ken... Kento, please.”

“What, baby? Use your words.”

“Can you put it in?”

“Since you asked so politely.” He lines himself with your entrance and slowly pushes inside you. You’re gripping the sheets, trying to accommodate his length and girth. You both moan when he bottoms out, and it seems that he’s deeper than last time. Since you’re not making any sign of discomfort, he grabs your hips and starts his movements. Back and forth, back and forth, and you’re quickly moaning loudly. He grunts behind you before leaning on your back, his chest flush against it. You can barely move your head to face him, but he whispers in your ear, “I have to go faster, baby, can I?” You moan in response, and he increases the pace. One of his arms sneaks around your torso, and he lifts your upper body so your back is flush against his chest. Your left hand goes to his nape, and his right hand plays with your nipple while he still thrusts into you. You pant and mewl, and your ah’s almost ruin your ability to form a sentence.

“Kento, baby—ah—need to see your face, please.” You’re almost sobbing because of the pleasure, but he hears you and pulls out of you. You whine at the loss, but he quickly flips you so you’re on your back. He takes one of your legs and puts it on his shoulder, the other one wrapping automatically around his waist, and in no time, he’s thrusting again inside your walls. You raise your hand to put it on his cheek, but he’s too tall, so you can only brush his arm, still moaning while watching his face focused on where your bodies are connected. His thumb goes to your clit, circling it, and you’re about to lose it.

“I’m gonna... Ken, I’m...”

“You’re cumming, baby? Go ahead and cum for me.”

He presses more firmly against your clit, and you feel your walls tightening, a little bit of clear liquid coming from your hole. Your moan is very loud, and Kento groans when he sees the condom wrapped around his cock, glistening with the clear liquid, some drops dripping on the comforter.

“Fuck, baby, you squirted a little, that’s hot.” You can just look at him with lidded eyes and a tired smile, clearly spent from your second orgasm. He needs only a few more thrusts before burying himself to the hilt and coming inside the condom with a loud groan of your name. After a few seconds, he pulls out and throws the condom in the bin before coming back to the bed and engulfing you in a hug, your cheek pressing against his torso while he traces the patterns on your tattooed forearm. He softly says your name, and you raise your head to look at him with tired eyes.

“Do you want to take a shower?” You yawn.

“Tomorrow morning, m’ tired, Ken.”

“You still need to remove your makeup and pee; it’s important.”

Your legs can barely let you stand, so you lean on him. He makes you sit on the toilet and gives you cotton pads, then leaves the bathroom after a kiss on your forehead and a hug you asked for. You remove your eye makeup and then pee to avoid any infection. Afterward, you go back to the bedroom, where a t-shirt is waiting for you on the bed.

“Suit yourself, baby, I’ll be right back.”

You put the t-shirt on and go under the sheets. You’re falling asleep when he comes back, but you startle when he joins you in bed.

“You can go back to sleep. Do you need to leave early tomorrow?” You yawn again before leaning your head on his torso, tangling your legs with his.

“No... Don’t have class tomorrow, day off.” He kisses your forehead again, and you fall asleep.

Chapter Text

A few hours later—or at least you think so—you’re woken by your bladder. Slowly, you extract yourself from Kento’s grip and make a beeline to the bathroom to relieve yourself. You realize you forgot to brush your teeth before falling asleep, but thankfully, he left the toothbrush you used last time. You quickly brush your teeth before returning to bed. When you lift the sheets to sneak back in, he grunts.

“Baby, go back to sleep, it’s too early.”

“Sorry, Kento, I had to pee.” He hums, and you settle back into your spot as the little spoon, his hand instinctively finding your breast, trapping you against him. You smile to yourself before falling asleep again.

You’re woken by the rays of light seeping through the curtains and his hard-on pressing against your ass. Your shirt is half up, and his hand is resting directly on your bare breast. You sigh in contentment before hearing him stir behind you.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, kissing your neck.

“Very well,” you reply, stretching slightly.

“It’s still early—6:15 a.m.—but do you want breakfast?”

“Not yet.”

He moves his arm to your waist, and you turn to kiss him slowly. His hand slides from your lower back to your ass, giving it a firm grip, and you gasp into his mouth, your hands moving to his nape. The kiss quickly becomes heated, his mouth now trailing down to your neck, leaving another hickey you won’t be able to hide with your hair. You exhale loudly as his hand continues to knead your ass, his other hand stroking your back. You pull back from the kiss and decide to take control.

You straddle him, and he watches you with dilated pupils. He adjusts himself, leaning back on the pillows, and you help him remove his shirt. You’re still wearing his, and he grips your sides as you trace your fingers over his chest and abs, goosebumps rising on his skin. You tease his nipples, and his grip tightens. You try to leave a mark on his neck like he did, but yours is faint and won’t last like his. Still, you chuckle in satisfaction. His hands slip under your shirt, heading straight for your breasts, and you gasp at the sensation.

“Take it off.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You yank off the shirt, tossing it to the floor. Your hands join his on your breasts, and you whine when his palms cover your nipples. Without realizing it, you start grinding against his clothed erection, and he grunts in response. He continues to play with your breasts, alternating between caressing your sides and teasing your pierced nipples, but soon, it’s not enough.

You lift yourself slowly, blushing when you notice the wet patch you’ve left on his briefs, and he removes them, leaving you both naked. You settle back onto his thighs, and with a teasing smile, you lean in, your lips hovering over his.

“I want to ride you. Can I?”

His eyes widen.

“Of course, baby, go ahead.”

This time, you’re the one opening the nightstand. It’s not messy but certainly not well-organized. Luckily, you quickly find a condom and some lube. You put the condom on him and apply the lube, stroking him a few times. He watches you with hunger, eager to see what you’ll do next. You rise slightly, positioning him at your entrance, then place your hands on his shoulders for support. You smile at him, and he smiles back just as you sink onto his length. Your lips part, and a whine escapes you as you fully seat yourself, loud enough to wake the whole building floor. You can't move yet, so you rest your forehead against his shoulder.

“Fuck, s’too big...” He strokes your back gently, trying to help you relax.

“Are you okay? Do you want to switch positions?”

“No, no, I want to ride you. I just need a few seconds… maybe more lube.”

He grabs the bottle and coats himself after helping you lift up. When you sink back down, it’s less painful thanks to the extra lube. You clutch his shoulders and kiss his jaw.

“I need to move, Kento. Can I?”

He nods, giving you approval.

Your knees on either side of his waist, you begin to rise and fall, whining each time his cock fills and stretches you. He lets you take the lead, moaning softly as you move. His hands roam your body—your ass, waist, hips, and back—before you take them and place them on your bouncing breasts. He groans at the sight in front of him: you impaled on his cock, moaning, his hands and yours on your breasts as you look at him with half-lidded eyes, lips parted in pleasure.

Too soon, your legs grow tired. You rest your forehead against his, and he understands immediately, shifting to take control. He plants his feet on the mattress and begins thrusting into you, his hands gripping your hips as he moves. You lock eyes, kissing again, but a particularly hard thrust breaks the kiss, and you gasp.

“Fuck, baby, you’re squeezing me.”

You can only look at him apologetically, overwhelmed by the pleasure. His thrusts meet yours, faster now, and you hear him grunt.

“You’re perfect, baby—fuck—I’m close. Are you gonna come for me?” One of his hands slides to your clit, rubbing in firm circles. Your eyes snap open, hands gripping his shoulders as you cling to him, nails digging into his skin.

“Yes, please, Kento, I’m—OH!”

With a few more thrusts, you come, moaning loudly, walls clenching around his cock. He groans as he follows soon after, filling the condom. His thrusts slow as he rides out his orgasm, while you pant against his ear, coming down from your high. He stays still, letting you recover and stroking your back gently. Who knew morning sex could be this intense, especially after just a few hours of sleep?

He helps you off of him and lays you on the pillow before discarding the condom. You watch his retreating form, admiring his back and ass with hooded eyes. As soon as he’s back in bed, you snuggle against him. He holds you close, stroking your side, and you sigh in contentment.

“Are you in pain?” You raise your head from his torso to look at him, confusion visible in your eyes.

“What? No?”

“I didn’t prepare you, and it was painful for you.” Kento’s gaze is stern, but he’s not looking directly at you. You place your hand on his cheek, gently guiding his eyes to meet yours.

“I’m not in pain, I promise. I was just too impatient to have you in me.” You smile apologetically at him, and he leans in to kiss you.

“Next time, you’ll be fully prepared. I’ll make sure of that.”

“There will be a ‘next time,’ then?” You smirk.

“Unless you don’t want to.” He plays with one of your ear piercings as you respond.

“I’d love to have a few ‘next times.’” You don’t want to ask the “what are we?” question because you’re both adults, and your innuendos make it clear what you both want.

“Outside of bed too?” You rest your head on his torso, drawing invisible patterns on his side.

“I’d love that too.”

“Perfect, then.” He kisses your forehead. “I need you to be available next month for the annual party here in Tokyo.” You glance up at him. “The one Gojo mentioned last night.” You hum in acknowledgment. He explains that the party happens once a year, before summer. Although it’s mostly a business gathering in the afternoon and evening, all the big shots bring a plus one, usually their significant other, so they can enjoy the delicacies and meet everyone.

“I see. A new shopping session for me, then. I guess the dresses I have in my closet won’t be enough.” He interrupts you.

“Baby, wear whatever you want, there’s no dress code. But if you’ll let me, I’ll buy you a dress.” You lower your gaze and mumble.

“What? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said I don’t want to spend your money.”

“It’s a gift, then.” You understand that you can't really refuse, so you thank him.

“Are your legs okay? Do you want to shower?”

“Only if you join me.”

“Alright.”

________________

In the shower, you start by brushing your teeth. Kento watches with an incredulous expression, but you explain that you’ve developed this habit since moving to Japan. Every time you shower in the morning, you brush your teeth before washing your body. He does the same but remarks on how strange it is. You just laugh. Then, you reach for the shower gel, but he beats you to it, pressing your back against the cold tiles. You gasp, but he wastes no time, kissing you deeply. It seems like you’ll never have a regular shower with him because a few minutes later, you’re on your knees, his cock in your mouth, bobbing back and forth while he praises you. He pulls out at the last moment to come on your breasts, then proceeds to eat you out like you’re his personal breakfast. You’re standing with your back against the tiles, one leg resting on his shoulder while he kneels, not even needing his fingers to make you come. Your standing leg gives out, but he catches you by the waist, chuckling. You laugh along with him before brushing your teeth again and washing up.

He dries your body with a fluffy towel, being extra careful around your sensitive nipples, and kisses your nose before leaving the bathroom. Smiling like an idiot, you use the toilet before heading out. In the bedroom, you find clothes neatly laid out for you on the bed: a shirt, a pair of briefs, and socks. The smell of coffee fills the air, and you tiptoe to the kitchen.

“I can hear you, you know,” he says, back turned. You wrap your arms around his waist from behind, and he takes one of your hands, kissing it before turning around to cup your cheek.

“My shirt suits you. Next time, skip the dresses and just come in that.” He traces the collar with his index finger, making you shiver.

“I’m not sure the restaurants would appreciate that...”

“If I rent the entire room, they won’t mind.” You playfully pinch his side.

“Kento!”

“I have to make good use of my money. Renting out a restaurant just so you can wear my shirt and briefs sounds like a good idea to me.” You snort.

“Somewhere where no one knows us, like in Sendai or something.” He laughs and hands you an espresso, which you accept gratefully. He asks about your work schedule. You explain that you have Monday afternoons and Thursdays off, though you still need to work from home, mostly grading exams and preparing for the next academic year. You’ll have to leave soon, but honestly, you don’t want to, and he can see it on your face. You set your cup down on the counter, and he envelops you in his arms.

“You can leave whenever you want, baby. You can even come back with your work stuff and work from here.” You smile against him.

“We both know I won’t be able to work if I stay here.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’ll be... distracted.” You blush, and he snorts.

“Oh, really?” One of his hands moves down to your ass. You chuckle.

“Yeah, really.” You raise your head to look at him, and he kisses you before lifting you onto the kitchen counter. You don’t even have time to react before you open your mouth to deepen the kiss. One of your hands rests on his shoulder, the other on his nape, while his lips move from your mouth to your neck, leaving another hickey—this time on the other side. Note to self: buy green concealer at Shiseido before work tomorrow morning. A tiny moan escapes your lips as his hand slides under your—his—shirt.

“Hmph... Ken... Kento,” you gasp as his fingers tickle your sides before brushing your sternum.

“I really have to—oh—go home to work.” His hands stop.

“Sorry, baby, I can’t help myself.” You chuckle.

“Now do you understand why I can’t stay here to work?” He smiles before removing his hands. You hop off the counter and head back to the bedroom, closing the door in his face. You hear him laughing on the other side, and you smile to yourself. You slip back into your dress, keeping his briefs on and leaving your tanga on his bed as a gift.

Back in the living room, you grab your purse to check your notifications.

From: Kuma 💙
08:45 a.m.
Boss isn’t coming to work today. Did you tire him out? Just kidding, see you tomorrow evening, Boo 🤍

You snort, leaving him on read, and open the Uber app, only to be interrupted by Kento saying he’ll drive you back to your place. In the car, you give him the address, and he rests his hand on your knee. You trace patterns on the back of his hand, and too soon for your liking, you're back home.

That evening, after working in your small apartment, you rush to Shiseido to get that green concealer. The salespeople look at your neck with disdain as you try to explain the situation in Japanese before switching to English, but they sell you the concealer, and you head back home.

The next morning, you wake up in a daze, missing his warmth beside you. You’re in a bad mood when you arrive at work—the green concealer didn’t work as well as you’d hoped, and even with foundation, the two hickeys are still visible. You grumble a “hello” to the keyholder before heading to the teacher’s lounge. You can already hear the noise coming from the area, which only worsens your mood. The door is open, and all your colleagues are gathered around a table with the biggest flower bouquet you’ve ever seen. You move closer before someone notices you and calls out your name.

“There’s your name on the card!”

Everyone turns to look at you, and you choke on your own spit. He didn’t dare, did he? You look at them wide-eyed before taking the card nestled between two peonies. Sure enough, your name is written on it. Your colleagues watch like children waiting for their meal as you open the card and read.

Hope the flowers find you well. I’ll pick you up at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow. Can’t wait to have you back on my kitchen counter.

—   Kento

You snort, raising your eyes to see your colleagues still waiting for an explanation. You sigh and put the card in your bag.

“Well, I guess you’ve figured it out?”

“When did this start?”
“Who is it?”
“Do we know him?”

You ignore their questions and snap a picture of the bouquet before messaging Kento.

To: Kento
08:12 a.m.
I found this (well, my colleagues found it first) in the teacher’s lounge. Thank you 💙. I’ll be ready at 10:00. Do I need to pack an overnight bag? Have a good day.
P.S. Can’t wait to be back on your kitchen counter too 😏.

Then, you send the same picture to Ino.

To: Kuma 💙
08:13 a.m.
Fuck, he got flowers delivered to school?? What did I do to deserve this man?

From: Kuma 💙
08:14 a.m.
Damn, he’s not playing! Need a full debrief tonight. My place? I’ll get sake.

To: Kuma 💙
08:15 a.m.
Nah, my place. I have to leave early tomorrow morning. I’ll grab some soju.

From: Kuma 💙
08:16 a.m.
Oooh, another date? 😏

To: Kuma 💙
08:16 a.m.
Probably. I asked if I need to pack an overnight bag.

From: Kuma 💙
08:17 a.m.
😏😏

To: Kuma 💙
08:17 a.m.
Oh, shut up.

You slip your phone back into your pocket and take a moment to smell the flowers before heading outside for a smoke. While chatting with a colleague about the meeting scheduled for the afternoon, your phone rings, a silly picture of you and Ino flashing on the screen.

“Hey.”

“Boo, I just saw the boss.” Ino’s speaking in a low voice and in English, probably so his colleagues can’t understand if they’re nearby.

“Well, that’s no surprise—he’s working today, right?”

“Yeah, but the scratches on his neck and the hickey are surprising.” You cough.

“He didn’t cover the hickey?” You hear Ino laughing.

“Really visible, especially where you put it.”

“Next time, I’ll put it lower,” you sigh.

“Alright, so Todo wants to join us tonight, so I suggest we hit the bar near your place.”

“No problem. I’ll just drop the flowers at home before I meet you.”

“I’ll book a table during lunch break. See you tonight, Boo. Love ya.”

“Love ya, Kuma.”

You end the conversation and finish your cigarette just as the bell rings. You head inside to welcome your first students of the day. During lunch break, you check your phone and see a response from Kento.

From: Kento
11:25 AM
Yes, but don’t bring pajamas, I’ll have a shirt for you. You can bring a dress if you want, or an outfit for a restaurant, and also regular clothes and shoes. Don’t forget your phone charger. Have a good day too.

Blunt as always, but you don’t mind. You type a quick response before finishing your meal, smoke a cigarette, and join your colleagues for the meeting. On the subway, you’re a star. Everyone looks at you carrying the massive bouquet, your face barely visible behind the huge arrangement. A few teenagers and even adults come closer to see it and take pictures. The teenagers ask if the bouquet is from your boyfriend, and you answer with a smile. Even on the street, everyone watches your awkward attempt to see where you’re stepping. Thankfully, you reach your building quickly. You just have time to set the bouquet on the coffee table, change into gray trousers and a black shirt, add heels, and head out for the bar.

Todo and Ino are already waiting for you at the entrance, Ino smoking.

“Hey Boo.” He kisses your cheek.

“Hey ‘Kuma. Hey Todo, it’s been a while.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy,” Todo says.

“Trying to get a girlfriend?” you tease. He playfully punches your arm and you giggle. Ino finishes his cigarette, offers you his arm, and a few minutes later, you’re all seated at the reserved table, sipping on your drinks.

“I won’t stay late tonight. I have to wake up early tomorrow.”

“Sure, sure, we’ll see about that. You said the same thing two weeks ago, and I had to carry you home at 5 a.m.” He winks, and you stick your tongue out in mock offense. The conversation quickly drifts to last Friday’s party, with Todo recounting the details.

“So, for the record, Naoya got blamed for his behavior during and after the party.”

“Well deserved, right? Ino told me he was a jerk to the nurses at the hospital.”

“Yeah, and he also tried to kiss Kugisaki. Maki had to slap him.” You nearly choke on your margarita.

“So Maki and his dad slapped him in one night? He must like getting hurt, I guess.”

“Kinky.” Todo adds, and you giggle.

“And about the boss’s situation—here’s what I learned this afternoon.” You look at Ino, panic creeping in. He subtly squeezes your knee in reassurance.

“We know Nanami-san left with a woman who doesn’t work at the firm since no one recognized her. How she got into the party is still a mystery. Miwa said she had to send a bouquet to the woman’s work, but Nanami-san insisted on writing the card and the address himself. According to her, it was the biggest bouquet in the shop.” Your stomach drops. Ino chuckles before adding.

“Also, remember, he’s sporting a hickey on his neck. A fresh one.”

You’re mentally planning Ino’s demise right now. If you slam his head on the table, will it be a quick death?

“Right, so they must have met again. Good for him if it’s not just a fling,” Todo continues. You down your margarita in one gulp before asking, “But if she doesn’t work at the firm, how will you find her?”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. But you were at the party, right, Boo?”

“Yes, but I left early—about an hour after I arrived with Ino.” And then you regret speaking. Todo’s eyes lock on your face, then focus on your neck, where your foundation has likely faded.

“Well, well, look what whe have here. Had some fun this week?” he asks slyly. You give him a deadpan stare.

“Am I not allowed to?”

“Of course you are. It’s just…” He takes a long sip of his Bloody Mary.

“What, Todo?”

“Come on, Todo, stop teasing,” Ino interjects. But the waiter arrives before Todo can respond, and you order another margarita and a shot of tequila for good measure.

“You didn’t leave with Ino, because he went home with the IT girl,” Todo finally says.

“I gave you her name three times already!” Ino pouts.

“I didn’t leave with him.” You hold Todo’s stare, trying not to show how nervous you are.

“And yet, you have a few hickeys on your neck. Some are old—about a week or so—but some are fresh,” he points out.

“So?”

“So, Nanami-san left with a mystery woman, and you left the party shortly after arriving. And here you are with old and fresh hickeys, not very well hidden, by the way.” You flip him off, but he smirks. “And Ino said you were late tonight because you had to drop something off at home. A massive flower bouquet, perhaps?”

“I had to drop my bag and iPad, you idiot. And change clothes—I wasn’t going to show up in a pencil skirt and white shirt.” You're doing your best to sound casual, but Ino's panicked look betrays you. Todo bursts into laughter, drawing attention from nearby tables. You shrink in your seat.

“So it is you!”

“No, it’s not!”

“Stop lying. It makes sense now. No one recognized you because, except for me and Ino, no one at the firm knows who you are.” You sigh, defeated.

“Fine. Yes, it’s me. Happy?”

Ino exhales loudly, clearly relieved.

“Very. Now we need details,” Todo says. You shoot your tequila.

“Absolutely not. I already told ‘Kuma I’m not sharing any details about his boss’s personal life, and that includes you.”

Todo pouts. “You’re no fun. Was it at least good? You deserve someone good.” He smiles, and you return it.

“Thanks, Todo. Yeah, it was perfect.” You pull out your phone and show him a picture of the bouquet. He whistles.

“Damn, Miwa wasn’t kidding. But how did it even happen?”

“Well, Ino ditched me to go dancing with Sachie, so I was sitting alone. Nanami joined me, we talked, flirted a little, and then I went home with him. We had another drink at his place in Ginza, and I spent the night.”

Ino cuts in, “Wait, what did he think of…” He gestures to his chest, and you snort. Todo looks confused.

“Well, he’s a man. Of course he likes boobs.”

“It’s not just that, Todo. You know I have tattoos, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen them.”

“Good. I have more—on my sides and spine. Plus piercings.” Todo raises an eyebrow, clearly not understanding. You discreetly point at your chest, and he chokes on his drink. Ino pats him on the back.

“Since when?” Todo asks, wide-eyed.

“Before I moved to Japan. And to answer ‘Kuma's question, yes, he likes them. A lot. The tattoos too.” Todo and Ino exchange a look before sipping their drinks. Todo smirks.

“That’s hot, Boo.”

“Coming from you, that’s gross—but thanks.” You pause. “Just to be clear, I don’t want my identity shared at the firm. You can joke with your colleagues, but my name stays out of it.” He nods. “It’s no one’s business but mine and Kento’s.”

“Understood. But maybe next time, put the hickeys lower?” You blush.

“I didn’t think they’d be so visible. I suck at that.” They laugh, and you continue, “We had dinner on Wednesday at this place in Shibuya—the one you need a reservation for months in advance. He had to translate the menu for me and I met Gojo-san and Geto-san.”

Their eyes widen.

“You met Gojo and Geto? Together?”

“Yep. They spotted Kento and came over. I introduced myself, and Gojo-san mentioned he hoped to see me at the firm’s annual party next month.”

“Are you going?” You nod, and they high-five.

“We need all the details after that—it's the event everyone wants to attend!”

“We’ll see. Alright, I’m heading home. If you need to crash at my place, call, but you’ll have to leave by 9.”

“Nah, we’ll be fine. Goodnight, Boo.”

“Goodnight, guys.” You kiss their cheeks before leaving the bar, typing on your phone.

To: Kento
10:45 PM
I can’t wait for the weekend. Do you prefer tanga or thong? (I drank a little at the bar, so I’ll probably regret this text tomorrow morning). 💙

When you get home, you gather your things for the weekend. As you zip your bag, your phone buzzes with a notification.

From: Kento
11:12 PM
Both. Get home safe, baby.

You snort and toss a thong into your bag along with the tanga and panties.

Chapter Text

__________________

10:00 a.m., and you’re running around in your underwear in your apartment. You didn’t hear your alarm and woke up in a daze at 9:30. You barely had time to hop out of the shower and put on a nice set of underwear when Kento called. You gave him instructions to head to your apartment, leaving the door unlocked while you quickly apply some green concealer to erase the marks he left on your neck two days ago. You hear him enter, calling your name, and you reply from the bedroom.

“I’m in the bedroom.”

When he walks in, he almost forgets why he’s here—to take you away for a nice weekend far from Tokyo—because the sight in front of him is mesmerizing. You're standing in front of your mirror, nose scrunched as you focus on applying foundation to your neck. Your back is to him, spine tattoo clearly visible except where the clasp of your black bra covers a small part of it. The ink on your sides is also showing, and your ass is on full display, with only the upper part of it hidden by a black tanga. You glance up and speak to him, meeting his eyes in the mirror as he comes closer.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear my alarm! I’ll be ready in a few minutes. I just need to finish setting the makeup on my neck and get dressed... what—” His hands glide to your sides, just beneath your bra, slowly moving down until they reach your hips. You relax a little when he whispers in your ear, “Don’t worry, take your time. I’ll be in the living room—this view is too... distracting.” You gasp as he leaves a soft kiss on the nape of your neck before exiting the bedroom. You exhale loudly once he’s gone, quickly finishing your makeup and getting dressed properly. Grabbing your overnight bag, you head to the living room where he’s waiting for you, typing an email.

“I’m ready whenever you are.” He closes the app without sending the email, and you both leave your apartment. In the car, you start by thanking him for the bouquet. He hums in acknowledgment.

“I saw it on your coffee table. I hope it wasn’t too difficult to bring back from school.” You chuckle.

“As a foreigner, I often get some stares, especially when my arms are visible, but this time, I felt like a rock star. Some people even asked to take pictures of the bouquet.” He chuckles too.

“I see. I’ll have them delivered to your place next time.” You blush slightly.

“Where are we going, by the way?”

“Near Odawara. Are you familiar with the area?”

“Not at all.”

“It’s a lovely seaside town, not too far from here but far enough to relax. I booked us a hotel in a forest, and each room has a private little onsen. The restaurant is excellent, and there are plenty of activities in the area.” He places a hand on your knee as you merge onto the highway.

“You know, I’ve never been to an onsen before.” From your angle, you can see his eyes widen slightly in surprise. “There aren’t many onsens in Tokyo that accept people with tattoos. I got rejected several times, and after that, I just gave up searching for a tattoo-friendly one.”

He hums in understanding.

“I see. Well, at this one, they won’t say anything about your tattoos, so you’ll be able to enjoy it however you like.”

“I can’t wait. Do you have a plan for the weekend?” He lightly squeezes your knee.

“I have, but I won’t tell you anything.” You chuckle.

“Fine, fine.”

It’s only a one-and-a-half-hour drive, but you’re woken from your nap by your boyfriend as he parks the car. The hotel is stunning, even from the outside. You can hear the sounds of the river, the birds, and the smell of the trees is amazing. He takes your overnight bag, and you thank yourself internally for wearing flats instead of the heels tucked into your bag, because the ground isn’t paved. After giving your passport to reception for identification, he leads you to your room for the night.

It has a cozy living room with a couch, a massive TV mounted on the wall, and a table with two chairs. In the bedroom, there’s a huge king-size bed with two nightstands, lights above the bed, and a door leading directly to a marble bathroom with a large shower, two sinks, and even a bench. The view from the bay windows is magnificent. Before the onsen, there’s a small terrace with a couch, two armchairs, a shower—to clean off before entering the bath—and everything faces the onsen and the forest. You can’t help yourself and open the bay windows, breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the view. You hear Kento chuckling behind you before his arms wrap around your waist. You lean your head against his chest, and he kisses your temple.

“So, I assume you like the view,” he says.

“I love it. Can we try the onsen?”

“Not yet, we have things to do first.”

You go for a walk in the park near the hotel, where he snaps pictures of you when he thinks you can’t hear the sound of the camera shutter. Afterward, you eat takoyaki on the street, then take the car to a country club. You try golf for the first time, only to end up falling ass-first onto the ground, laughing like a maniac, before Kento helps you up, laughing with you. You sip a fancy cocktail at the bar and take pictures of your boyfriend golfing before you leave to visit a temple to pay your respects.

After all that, you finally return to your hotel room. Your phone rings while you’re in your underwear, and you notice it’s your family calling. You answer, and Kento removes his own underwear before stepping into the outdoor shower. You watch him wash, barely paying attention to what your parents are saying, until he slips into the onsen. Refocusing on your conversation, you sit on the bed, but you can still feel his gaze on you as he relaxes in the bath. Thankfully, the conversation ends quickly, and you waste no time removing your underwear, taking a quick shower, and joining him in the onsen. The hot water feels magical, and you sigh in contentment, sinking down until only your head is above the water.

“Looks like you’re enjoying it,” he comments.

“I’m so stupid for not searching for a tattoo-friendly onsen in Tokyo. I’ve clearly been missing out.”

After a few minutes, he extends his arm, inviting you to come closer. You straddle his thighs but remain facing the forest, savoring the view. You lean back against his chest, feeling his hands gently caressing your hips. You sigh and snuggle closer, his crotch pressing against your ass. His hands start moving up, almost brushing the underside of your breasts, then returning to your hips. He repeats this several times, snickering when you grunt in frustration.

“What is it, baby? Something you’d like to share?” he teases.

“Stop teasing,” you grumble.

He just hums, continuing to tease your body. The sensation builds, and too soon for your liking, you find yourself wriggling against him, sighing softly. He exhales slowly, planting kisses on your neck, and in one swift motion, his hands are flat on your breasts. A loud “oh” escapes your lips, but his hands remain still.

“Ken... please.” He spreads his fingers, trapping your nipples between his index and middle finger, and you mewl.

“Black lace suits you,” he says. You’re almost breathless. “Did you pack other underwear, since you asked me which one I prefer?” His index finger grazes your piercings, and you push your chest against his hands, seeking friction. “Answer me, baby.”

“I... shit.” You can’t even think straight, and it takes you a few seconds to remember the color of the thong packed in your bag. “Yes, a da-dark green thong, so I have... both of them.” You exhale loudly.

“Mhm...” You’d never thought he’d be the type of man to tease, but it’s becoming almost unbearable. You’re still searching for friction, writhing against him, but he doesn’t seem ready to give in to your not-so-silent plea. Are you going to have to beg?

“Did you bring pajamas?” For fuck’s sake, just touch me already!

“No, since you said you had a shirt for me,” you answer in one breath. That answer seems to satisfy him, and he smiles against your neck before slightly moving his fingers, creating friction on your nipples while squeezing slowly. The moan that escapes your lips is loud, and you bring your hand to your mouth to muffle it, afraid the neighbors might hear you.

“Remove your hand. No one will hear. The rooms are far apart, and I asked for the last one for this reason.”

You obey, placing your hand on his neck instead, your nails scratching his undercut as he continues playing with your breasts. You’re writhing on him, mewling when his fingers grip your breasts, and his mouth is once again leaving a hickey on your neck. You should ask him to stop since it’s hard to hide, but you’re too lost in pleasure to care. His voice breaks through your haze.

“Do you think you could come just from me playing with your breasts?” You gasp when his thumbs circle your nipples.

“I—oh, fuck—I don’t know... maybe?”

He hums. “I’m sure you could, but not now. We have to be at the restaurant in an hour.”

One of his hands still grips your breast, while the other moves down, grazing your ribs and stomach before resting near your mound. Instinctively, you part your legs, and his hand slots between them, though he’s not touching you yet. You can feel his hand near your center, but he’s deliberately not pressing, and you whine in frustration.

“Kento, please, I—”

“You what?”

“I want your fingers, please. Can I have them?” At this point, you’re almost desperate, and you don’t think you’ll last long if he grants your request. He kisses your neck, and you shudder, still trying to get some friction.

“Asking like that, baby—that’s hot. I’ll stop the teasing, then.” His index and middle fingers land on your clit, slowly circling it, and you really hope the rooms are far apart because the moan you let out is the loudest sound you’ve ever made. He snickers against your nape, continuing his ministrations. One hand plays with your breast, squeezing it and rolling your pierced nipple between his thumb and index finger, while the other circles your clit with his thumb. You moan his name, overwhelmed by the pleasure. Your ass is pressing against his erection, and your writhing isn’t helping his case. You feel his index and middle fingers grazing your entrance, and when they slip inside you, you can’t help yourself.

“Yes, Ken, s’good... more.”

Your moans are music to his ears, and he grunts when your nails scratch his nape. He knows you’re not going to last, so he increases the pace, curling his fingers inside you and finding your G-spot with one swift motion. You cry out, knowing you’re about to come on his fingers, right there in the onsen. Water splashes around you as you breathe heavily against his neck.

“I know you’re close, baby. Let go and cum for me.” He turns his head just in time to kiss you for the first time since you both entered the onsen, and his mouth muffles your moan as you climax. He moans into your mouth as well, and you feel his dick twitching against your ass as he finishes too. You’re both panting for a while before he slowly removes his fingers, and you wince slightly at the sensation.

“Are you okay, baby?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just need a minute. Fuck, that was...”

“I agree. I’ll just have to pay extra for cleaning.” You look at him, confused. “The hotel rules are clear about not having sex in the onsen, even if it’s private.”

“Oh.” He just smiles.

“I don’t care, I wanted to do that, and I’m not disappointed.” You blush. “Can you stand? We have to shower before going to the restaurant.” You nod, and he helps you out of the onsen, wrapping you in one of the bath sheets.

“I’ll shower first.” He hums in approval. When you’re done, he gives you a kiss on the forehead before heading into the bathroom while you apply the infamous green concealer and foundation to cover your old and new hickeys. You opt for light makeup and leave your hair down. As you rummage through your bag, he exits the bathroom, and you turn around with your tanga and thong in hand.

“Which one?” You see him swallow as he eyes the underwear in your hands. He just points to the thong, and you snicker.

“Fine, dark green it is.” You watch as Kento almost runs to the bathroom, mumbling to himself. You laugh before putting on the dark green thong, as requested, along with a black lace bra and a floral sundress. The hem grazes just above your knees, and the top has a V neckline with short sleeves. You plan to add your jacket before leaving. Although you’re not thrilled about it, you choose to wear your heels because the flats you brought don’t match the outfit.

You’re about to put on your shoes when Kento exits the bathroom, looking sharp in a suit and tying his tie. He glances at you, sitting on the bed, bending to put on your shoes, and freezes in his tracks.

“Stand up.”

You raise an eyebrow but stand up as he walks over to you. He takes your hands, helping you up, and then gazes at you with hungry eyes. He kisses you slowly, and you part your lips to play with his tongue. His hands slide under your dress, landing on your bare ass, and you laugh.

“So I had to stand just for you to grope my ass like a teenager?” He squeezes your cheeks before massaging them, and you sigh in contentment.

“Absolutely.” You play with his untied tie.

“Kento, we have to leave.”

“What if we just stay and order room service? I really want to see what’s under that dress.” He kisses your shoulder, his grip on your ass tightening, making you let out a small moan. But you manage to pull yourself together, extracting yourself from his hold.

“No, you booked the table, and I really want to see which restaurant you picked.” He narrows his eyes at you, and you chuckle. “C’mon, tie your tie and let’s go.” You slip on your heels and wait for him as he finishes tying his tie and putting on his shoes. Then, hand in hand, you leave the room.

At the restaurant, he has to explain some kanji to you again since it’s another fancy place with elaborate dishes. You finally settle on fish and vegetables, served with rice in an exquisite presentation, and you eat while listening to him explain the details of the upcoming party next month.

“So, the afternoon is dedicated to the meeting, with speeches and everything. Then, around 6 p.m., everyone gathers on the rooftop for a final speech before the evening starts. The guests don’t have to attend the meeting, but they have to be on the rooftop at 6 p.m. sharp.” You nod. “But if you don’t want to come, that’s fine. I know what we have is new, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You reach across the table for his hand.

“I think I’ll be fine. And if I feel uncomfortable, I can always leave, pretending I’m sick, right?” He chuckles.

“Yes, that would work.”

“Perfect, then.” He kisses the back of your hand, and you blush.

“There will be alcohol and food, so if you have any allergies, I’ll need to inform the catering. But you told me you didn’t have any, right?” You nod.

“After the evening, some people usually go to the nightclub we frequent. It’s up to you.”

“We’ll see about that, but it could be fun to go clubbing with you.” You laugh together. “And where’s the evening’s venue?” He sips his wine.

“Shibuya Sky.” You pause in your tracks.

“So, you’re telling me the firm is privatizing the Shibuya Sky for the annual party?” He nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Fuck, that’s insane.”

“Usually, it’s in Roppongi, but the CEO managed to book Shibuya Sky this time. We’ll be able to watch the sunset from there.” You smile widely.

“Amazing.”

You both finish your meal, skipping dessert, since you spotted a konbini on the way to the restaurant. You ask Kento to stop there, and soon, you’re eating konbini ice cream in the car, laughing at his stories. You think to yourself that this weekend is just perfect. Later, you walk hand in hand, explaining to him your journey from teaching in your home country to working in a school in Japan while barely speaking Japanese.

The drive back to the hotel is peaceful. His hand rests on your knee, tracing slow patterns on your inner thigh. You part your legs slightly, and you catch him smirking. You nearly stumble getting out of the car—forgetting that the ground is uneven—and you both burst into laughter as you reach the hotel room.

In the bathroom, you remove your makeup and brush your hair before joining Kento. He’s already taken off his suit jacket and tie, and is now undoing the top buttons of his blue shirt. You approach him quickly.

“Let me.” Your fingers replace his as his hands find their way to your waist, caressing your sides. While you unbutton his shirt, his hands slide from your sides to under your dress, quickly finding your ass. You sigh softly, and soon, his entire torso is exposed. You take your time tracing his chest, nipples, abs, and sides with your nails and fingertips, feeling his grip on your butt tighten. You place your hands on his bare shoulders before standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. There, you take your time too, slowly removing his shirt while your fingers roam over his broad back, tracing his spine as you kiss. You’re giving him a taste of his own medicine, and he frowns.

“Is this payback for earlier?” You smirk.

“Maybe.”

You continue your teasing until you reach the zipper of his slacks. He lets you remove them but stops you when you reach the elastic of his underwear.

“Your turn.”

“Do you want me to strip?” You chuckle.

“No, I’d rather do it myself.” You blush. It’s his turn to tease you now, his hands moving from your clothed sides to your shoulders, leaving soft kisses along the junction of your neck and shoulders. His hands glide down your back, tracing your spine with his slender fingers. When he reaches the bottom of your dress, you raise your arms, allowing him to slip it off easily. He sits on the bed, looking at you like he wants to devour you. You’re wearing the dark green lace thong he requested, almost sheer, and he notices the tiny wet patch with a light smile. Your black lace bra barely conceals your perky nipples, and he raises his hand to trace the lace, making you shudder. His fingers circle your clothed nipples slowly, and you whine, unable to meet his hungry gaze. He snorts.

“What’s the matter, baby? You’re feeling shy?”

“I’m not shy,” you mumble. He removes his hands from your breasts, and you step closer to him.

“Sit on my thighs.”

You obey, and as soon as you straddle him, he unclasps your bra. You barely have time to process it before his mouth is on your left breast, purposefully avoiding your nipple. You whimper, your hands naturally resting on his nape, nails pressing into his skin.

“Please, Kento... don’t tea—OH.”

It’s hard to tell whether Kento is an ass man or a breast man, but one thing’s for sure: he knows what he’s doing. His tongue circles your left nipple before he gently sucks on it. One hand presses against the middle of your back while the other kneads your right breast, teasing your nipple with his thumb. You’re writhing, searching for more friction, grinding against his erection in an attempt to relieve the pressure building inside you. He grunts, then shifts your positions, laying you on your back on the bed.

“Alright, baby. Teasing’s over.”

He pulls off your thong, and both of you can clearly see the string of slick clinging to the fabric. You instinctively throw your arm over your face, embarrassed, but he just sneers.

“Looks like it worked, huh?” You just nod, removing your arm as he dives between your legs, licking a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, before sucking on it. At this point, you can only hope the hotel won’t complain about the noise because you can’t help yourself. You’re gripping the sheets, your knees bent, as he works his magic on your core. You mewl and pant as his tongue laps at your center, and when it slowly dips into your hole, you feel like you’re about to lose it. Your hand tangles in his hair.

“Fuck, Kento, you’re so good.”

He hums and continues his assault on your pussy, and you’re just taking it, writhing and moaning beneath him. His fingers replace his tongue—two at a time—and you whimper. He looks up at you, squeezing your waist to hold you still. His fingers move inside you in rhythm with his mouth on your clit, gently sucking it between his lips. You feel your orgasm approaching and barely manage to warn him before you come, thighs clamping around his head.

“Ken, please, I’m—”

A loud moan escapes you as you coat his fingers with your slick. He keeps going, moving his fingers and sucking your clit through your orgasm, even when you’re done.

“T-too much...”

He slowly removes his fingers, and you grab his forearm. Understanding, he leans up to kiss you. You’re in a blissful daze, barely aware of where you are, as he stands, his erection straining against his underwear.

“Hope you’re ready for the main course, baby.” You manage a timid “Yes” as he retrieves a condom and a bottle of lube from his overnight bag. When he returns, free of his underwear, he sits on the bed with his back against the headboard, extending an arm to you. You straddle his thighs and roll the condom onto him. He exhales loudly as you apply lube to his length, stroking him slowly. Neither of you are in the mood to tease anymore, so you sink down onto him, your forehead resting against his. Inch by inch, you take him in, whining softly when you’re fully seated. Overwhelmed by the sensation, you can’t stay still, bouncing on him as his hands rest on your waist, tracing your tattoos with his fingertips.

You try to kiss him, but it’s too difficult while you’re moving, so you bury your head in his shoulder, moaning in pleasure. You hear him grunt in your ear and feel his hands grip your ass, guiding you to a new pace. You cry out when his tip grazes your G-spot.

“Right there, baby?”

“Yes, please, Ken—oh.” Your breasts rub against his chest, and you mewl as you feel your second orgasm building. A few more thrusts, and you’re moaning loudly, your walls clenching around his shaft. He grunts and slows his pace, unable to thrust hard because of how tightly you’re squeezing him. He lets you ride out your orgasm, stroking your back as you pant, trying to recover.

“Baby, I’m close. Will you let me finish?” You can only nod, too breathless to speak. He resumes thrusting, and you’re moaning again almost immediately, overwhelmed by the fact that you just came and he’s still going—which means you might come again. You cling to his shoulders for balance as he pants in your ear.

“So good, baby, you’re doing so well.” You look at him with adoration in your eyes, smiling softly as he praises you, until a particular thrust makes you mewl. He’s hitting your G-spot repeatedly, and a new sensation grows in your stomach. You’re about to come again, but this time, it feels different. Your moans grow louder, your nails pressing into his skin as he grunts.

“Baby, that’s it—fuck—come for me again, please.” The feeling of your clit brushing against his pubic hair with every thrust makes the coil in your stomach snap, and you cry out as a gush of clear slick coats his length and both your inner thighs, dripping onto the sheets. He moans your name, and you feel his cock twitch inside you, filling the condom. Your head falls onto his shoulder, exhausted. He strokes your back gently, soothing you as you lift yourself slightly so he can pull out. He removes and ties the condom but then sets you back on his thighs, pulling you into a warm embrace. You take a moment before you’re able to speak.

“I think... the teasing was worth it.” He laughs softly in your ear, a sound you’ve grown to love.

“It was. You squirted all over us—we’ll need to shower again.” You blush, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

“God, that’s so embarrassing. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Don’t be. That was really hot.”

You mumble, “I didn’t even know I could do that with someone.” He snorts.

“Not your fault if your previous partners couldn’t make you come properly.” You just nod. He helps you lie down on the bed before discarding the condom and putting on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. You give him a puzzled look.

“I’m going to ask for new sheets.” You lower your head, embarrassed. “Just relax, I’ll be right back. When I get back, we’ll shower, okay, baby?”

“Yes, but I want a kiss before you leave.” He chuckles before leaning down, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. You smile against his mouth as he exits the room, and you sigh. What did I do to deserve a man like him? Something’s about to happen, right? Lost in your thoughts, you decide to stand and remove the sheets from the bed. Your legs are a little wobbly, but you manage to pull them off and slip into a robe from the dresser.

When he returns with a fresh set of sheets, you make the bed together before hopping into the shower. Even though you’re sleepy, he takes his time washing your body, kissing your shoulders and neck tenderly. You do the same, tracing his spine as you wash his back, kissing his chest as the water runs down it, and you hear him sigh softly.

You dry yourselves quickly, and he hands you the t-shirt he packed for you. You giggle before putting it on, then slip under the sheets, waiting for him to join you. Once he’s in bed, you snuggle against his chest, wrapping your arm around his waist. He traces patterns on your forearm, and that’s how you fall asleep—in less than a minute, your legs tangled with his and the soothing sensation of his fingers tracing your tattoos.

Chapter Text

____________________

Your Sunday starts early. The birds are barely singing in the forest near your hotel room, but you're already on all fours, your moans echoing in the bedroom. You're gripping the sheets while Kento pounds into you from behind. He's rougher than usual, but you're not complaining. His tip repeatedly hits your G-spot, and you cry out.

"Right there, please don't stop!" you beg, and he groans, leaning over your back. His arms wrap around your waist, hands finding your breasts. He continues thrusting, panting in your ear, before one of his fingers moves down to your clit, rubbing it in firm circles. You let out a loud moan as your walls clench around him. He buries himself deep and comes in the condom. You barely notice him pulling out before you're drifting back to sleep.

You wake up a few hours later, the sun higher in the sky. Kento is tracing patterns on your arm and smiles softly when he sees you stretch and yawn.

"Sleep well?" he asks.

"Yeah. I enjoyed the early wake-up call," you tease, and he chuckles, kissing your nose.

"I know you did." You snuggle closer, your fingers lazily tracing invisible lines on his chest before he speaks again.

"Ready for breakfast? There are still a few things I want to do before we leave."

"Sure." You both get out of bed and head to the living room, where breakfast is already waiting. You have a bowl of rice, some fruit, and a big cup of coffee, while Kento eats an omelet with rice and drinks an espresso. You think to yourself that you could get used to this, even if it’s still early in your relationship. After breakfast, you head back to the bedroom to get ready for the day. He takes the bathroom first while you apply some light makeup, trying to cover the hickeys he left. Then you switch. You brush your teeth and pee, trying to avoid an infection since you didn’t get to go right after sex like usual, then step out to get dressed. Kento asked you to dress casually, so you pull on black trousers and a beige top. You opt for simple panties instead of a thong, which he seems to appreciate, judging by the look he gives you. You put on your black lace bra—it's the only one you brought for the two-day trip—and finish getting dressed. You slip your shoes on by the door, and the two of you leave, hand in hand.

In the car, Kento tells you that you're headed to see the Chijusi Falls, a local tourist spot. You take a lot of pictures, and he even snaps a few for you to send to your family. You take selfies together too. A kind Japanese woman offers to take a photo of the two of you, and you agree, posing with his arm around your waist as you kiss his cheek. She compliments you on being such a lovely couple, and when you turn to look at Kento, you see he's blushing slightly, which makes you gasp in surprise. He just smiles, leans in, and kisses you softly on the lips, his hand gently caressing your cheek. Unbeknownst to you, the woman continues snapping pictures during the whole interaction. When you finish the kiss, she hands you back your phone, and you thank her profusely.

For lunch, you stop by a Family Mart, and you're more than happy to grab your favorite onigiri and cold udon while Kento opts for Caesar chicken and fried rice. He apologizes for the casual meal, but you quickly reassure him: 1. You love konbini food, and 2. You don't mind not being treated to fancy restaurants every time. On the way to your next destination, you sip on an iced coffee latte, also from Family Mart, and hand him some Pocky sticks for dessert. He chuckles, trying to eat them without making a mess.

He parks near another tourist attraction, and you spend some time taking pictures of the stone Buddhas before exploring the area. His hand never leaves yours. Afterward, you return to the hotel and relax in the onsen before it's time to head back to Tokyo. At the reception desk, Kento explains the situation from the previous day in the onsen, and you're mortified, but the clerk simply asks him to pay a fee—an expensive one, but Kento hands over his credit card without hesitation, and you're free to leave. You try not to fall asleep in the car, but the hum of the road, Kento softly humming along to the music, and his thumb gently stroking your knee lull you into a 45-minute nap.

He drops you off at your apartment, and before he leaves, you ask if he wants to come over on Wednesday night, promising to cook for him. He quickly agrees and kisses you slowly, as if memorizing the shape and taste of your lips. You can't stop smiling, even after he drives away, until Ino knocks on your door as planned. You're smoking by the window, so you shout for him to use his key. He walks in, cigarette already dangling from his lips, and hugs you from behind.

"Hey, Boo," he greets you.

"Hey, 'Kuma. How was your weekend?" you ask as he lights his cigarette.

"Well, Todo found a girl at the bar while I was outside smoking, so I had to go home alone," he says, and you snort. "On Saturday night, I took Sachie to dinner, and she just left my place about two hours ago."

You turn to smile at him. "Is she your girlfriend now?"

"Probably, yeah. We haven’t officially defined it yet, but I like her. She's sweet."

"Maybe you should. You deserve a sweet girl, 'Kuma," you say, and he smiles before you finish your cigarette.

"What about you? How was your weekend? Where did you go? What did you do?" he asks, and you chuckle.

"Give me a minute! First, finish your cigarette. I'll grab some drinks from the fridge."

You find a bottle of soju at the bottom of your fridge and place it on the coffee table along with two glasses. Ino finishes his cigarette and joins you on the couch as you start recounting your weekend. His reactions vary: chuckling when you mention your konbini lunches, smirking when you confess to having sex in the onsen, and bursting into laughter when you tell him Kento had to pay a fee because of it. He smiles when you show him the selfies taken by the kind woman, and laughs again when you narrate your first golfing experience. He wipes tears from his eyes, still laughing.

"You? Golfing? Damn, I would've paid to see that," he says, and you punch his arm.

"Shut up! It was so embarrassing, especially when I fell over and heard him laugh."

"Will you try golf again, at least?" He's still laughing, and you grumble.

"No, I prefer drinking cocktails at the bar. They made an excellent Moscow Mule."

"I see. And I assume you didn’t just get freaky in the onsen?" He smirks.

"You assume correctly—there were a few other times."

"And?"

"Fuck, ‘Kuma, he’s perfect! I don’t even know how to explain it. Not just in bed—he's amazing in other ways too. He’s interesting, nice, gentle, and super knowledgeable. You know I need a smart guy, not a dumb one. And he found my G-spot."

Takuma chokes on his drink, and you pat his back.

"I didn’t need that much detail, but okay?"

"Says the one who wanted every detail about my first night with him." You give him a deadpan look, and he chuckles.

"Right, right. So, a god in bed and an interesting man outside of it."

"Yes, I think that sums it up."

You chat for a while longer, finishing the bottle of soju before Ino heads home. You cook a light meal and go to bed early, determined to start the week well-rested.

Over the following weeks, you have more dates with Kento. Three days after your weekend in Odawara, he’s at your place, and you cook for him as promised. You feel a little self-conscious about your apartment, which is much smaller and less luxurious than his, but he quickly reassures you, saying he doesn’t care about that and thinks your place is lovely. Then, he eats you out on your couch because, as he puts it, "that dress was tempting." Later, you move to the bedroom to continue the night, and you leave his toothbrush next to yours in the bathroom—"just in case."

You also spend an entire Thursday at his place, attempting to work together in his home office. You tell him you’ve graded all your final exams, but it's a lie—watching him work with his glasses on distracts you too much (and soaks your panties), making it impossible to focus on anything. You take walks in Ueno Park while the weather is still pleasant, spend weeknights at the cinema, and try out fancy bars he recommends. As the academic year reaches its peak, your schedule fills up with meetings—parents, colleagues, administration—leaving you barely any time to call Kento before you collapse into bed, often falling asleep mid-conversation.

Despite your protests, Kento insists on buying you a dress for the upcoming annual party, telling you it will be delivered to your place on Thursday afternoon. However, that Thursday, a colleague calls in sick and you have to cover her classes, meaning you're not home to receive the package. When you finally return home at 9:00 p.m., exhausted after yet another last-minute meeting, you find not one but two packages waiting for you.

Confused, you open them to discover not only the dress but also a dark grey lace lingerie set—bra and thong, of course. You sigh and send Kento a text with a picture attached.

To: Kento
09:25 p.m.
I thought you said you were only buying me a dress?

You try on the lingerie—after all, it's meant for you, right?—and chuckle when you see his response.

From: Kento
09:27 p.m.
I said I was buying a dress, but I didn’t say anything about lingerie. Wear it with the dress for the party.

It seems Kento didn’t pay attention to the details, because the dress has spaghetti straps, making it impossible to wear the bra without it showing. No worries—you’ll save the lingerie for another occasion. The dress itself is dark red, with a slight V-neckline, and falls just above your knees. Your Louboutin heels will pair perfectly with it, even though you hate wearing them.

_________________

You're pretty sure you're going to throw up. You’re standing in an elevator, heading straight to the Shibuya Sky, wearing the dark red dress Kento bought, your Louboutin heels, and the nicest purse you could find in your closet. The party is about to start, and the only other person in the elevator is a woman you’ve never met. Ino isn’t with you this time, and Kento is already at the party, so you’re on your own until you find him. When the elevator dings, you offer the woman a small smile, which she returns before exiting. You hand your invitation to the attendant, who checks the list and wishes you a pleasant evening. You can only nod in thanks because you're pretty sure speaking would cause you to pass out.

It’s 5:55 p.m., so you’re not late. You glance around and see waiters bustling everywhere, men in expensive suits, and women wearing dresses that probably cost as much as your yearly salary. You can’t spot Kento, and you consider sending him a text—or fainting—when you hear someone call your name. A young woman, probably around 22, approaches with a smile, followed by a man with a scar on his face.

"Ino told me about your outfit, so I knew how to find you. It’s nice to finally meet you! I’m Miwa, Nanami-san’s assistant." You're surprised to see her but smile back and bow politely. She introduces you to her boyfriend, Kokichi, and explains that some assistants and secretaries are invited to the party. You nod in acknowledgment.

The sound of someone lightly tapping on a microphone stops you in your tracks, and you turn to see a white-haired man starting to speak. You lean toward Miwa’s ear.

"This man looks like Gojo-san?" you whisper as quietly as possible.

"That’s Gojo Sr., the CEO of the firm. I think you met his son, Gojo Satoru?" she replies. You nod.

"Yes, once."

"Gojo Sr. will retire in a few years, and then Gojo-san - Satoru - will take over as CEO."

"I see, thanks." She smiles lightly at you before resting her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder. You try to focus on the speech, but honestly, you can’t catch everything. Older people tend to speak really fast, and you’re not fluent enough to follow the entire 40-minute speech. Still, you clap along with the rest of the guests when he’s done. As people start moving around, you turn to Miwa.

"I'm going to find Kento. Have you seen him?"

"Oh sure, follow us!"

You follow Miwa and her boyfriend until they stop near a group of about ten men, all in black suits except for a few. Geto is wearing a dark blue suit, Kento a dark grey one, and Gojo—well, Gojo is in a white suit, a stark contrast to his father’s black one. You try to maintain a neutral expression, but something in your face must betray you, because Miwa leans over and whispers, "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I’m... fine. Maybe I’ll be better when I’m not surrounded by giants in suits," you joke, and she chuckles.

"Don’t worry, they won’t eat you. Nanami-san is here, so enjoy the party. We’re around if you need anything."

"Thank you, Miwa, Kokichi," you say, and they nod before turning away. Now you just have to interrupt a conversation among these important people while trying not to trip in your Louboutin heels—you’re definitely selling them after this party. As you approach, you hear Gojo’s voice.

"Oh, Nanamin, your lovely lady is here!" Everyone turns to look at you, and you’re mortified. You hesitate: run to the elevator and escape, embarrass yourself by falling, or murder Gojo Satoru? Instead, you opt for the most elegant solution: you bow your head and introduce yourself. While you’re speaking, you notice two things: Geto smacks Gojo on the head, making him whine, and Kento steps forward to meet you. When you’re done and the men bow their heads in acknowledgment, Kento places his hands on your waist and gently turns you away from the group. You place your hands on his shoulders, and he understands, leaning down for a kiss.

"Hi," you say with a smile.

"Hi, baby. Sorry about that idiot. He never knows when to shut up," Kento chuckles.

"It’s fine, I think. At least I got to introduce myself." You trace the front of his suit jacket with your fingers. "This suit is amazing. You should wear grey more often."

He snorts. "Really? Thanks, baby. I appreciate it. I think I also picked the right color for you tonight." He plays with the spaghetti strap on your shoulder, and you blush when he continues. "Did you also wear the set I bought you?"

"I… couldn’t wear the bra because the dress doesn’t have sleeves," you say quietly, hoping no one can hear. "I’m just wearing the thong."

His fingers graze your collarbones, and you shudder. "Interesting. Let’s get a drink." He offers you his arm for balance, and you spend the next two hours being introduced to new people, drinking expensive champagne, taking photobooth pictures, explaining why you live in Japan, and giving makeup tips to some of the wives. Finally, you find a moment to yourself and decide to head to the smoking area.

When you enter the small space, you realize your alone time won’t last long—Geto is already there, smoking. He smiles lightly at you when you join him. You light your cigarette and put your pack back into your purse before he speaks.

"Enjoying the party?"

You exhale the smoke. "I think so, yes. People have been really nice, even though I’m not part of the firm—or from Japan."

"That’s good to hear. I don’t think I introduced myself properly last time. My apologies—Geto Suguru, member of the board and one of Nanami’s colleagues." He extends his hand, and you shake it, repeating your name. He says it back, and you congratulate him on his pronunciation. You chat casually about your work and life in Japan until another voice interrupts.

"So, you’re Nanami’s side chick?" You cough, startled, unable to see who’s speaking.

"Excuse me?"

"Mei, don’t start," Geto’s voice drops, and you turn slowly to see the speaker. A tall woman in a long black Armani dress—one you’ve seen advertised in Ginza—stands there. Her lips and forehead look stiff from Botox, and she’s dripping in jewelry, making her look like a Christmas tree. Her gaze falls on you, clearly judging you.

"Even if you’re a foreigner, I’m sure you understood me, little lady," she sneers, and you frown at the nickname.

"Well, for the record, I’m his girlfriend, partner, whatever you want to call it."

She snickers. "Gold digger, then? Or maybe sugar baby?"

You feel a pang in your stomach just as another voice chimes in.

"I think those labels fit you better, Mei. Should I remind you who you married a few years ago?" Gojo’s voice rings out from behind you. Geto quickly takes your arm, trying to move you away from the confrontation. You glance back and see Gojo’s stern gaze, while Mei is smirking.

"Satoru, please. I’m not here to start another family drama," she says smoothly.

"Then leave her alone, because I won’t hesitate to start one if you don’t shut the hell up," Gojo replies sharply.

"Fine, fine. I just wanted to see who’s picking up my crumbs. Now I can leave." Your eyes widen, and she winks at you before turning away. You take a step forward, but Gojo’s hand firmly grips your shoulder.

"She’s not worth it, Miss Teacher. Come on, let’s get a drink," he says with a small smile. Your shoulders relax, and you follow him and Geto to the bar. You order a shot of tequila—Geto orders the same—while Gojo asks for a Virgin Mojito. You clink glasses with them, down your shot, and then ask for a margarita. They let you enjoy your drink, and once you have it, they lead you back to the smoking area. Geto lights your cigarette and you thank him.

"I'm not with him for his money, you know," you mumble.

"Oh, we know. Don’t worry," Gojo chuckles.

"What Satoru is saying," Geto adds, "is that we've seen how Nanami looks at you and how you look at him. A gold digger would never." You blush as Gojo continues.

"You’re probably wondering what she meant by ‘her crumbs.’" You nod, but Geto interrupts.

"Satoru, it’s not your place to tell her."

"I want to know," you insist, silently pleading with your eyes. Geto exhales, then nods, and Gojo continues.

"Nanami and Mei dated for a while. She wanted to marry him, but he said he 'wasn’t ready.'" Gojo makes air quotes with his fingers, and you snort. "One time, he had a meeting scheduled with my father, but instead of a work meeting, he found my father balls-deep in Mei."

You choke on your drink, and Geto pats your back.

"What?"

"You heard me. She cheated on him with my father. Mei told Nanami that since he wasn’t ready to marry her, she found someone who was. They got married three months later—two years ago, or something."

"But what about your mother?"

"They divorced ten years ago, so she’s fine. Thanks for asking."

"So... Mei is married to your father?"

"Yep. Now I have a stepmother who’s two years older than me," Gojo says with a laugh, and Geto joins in. "We’re pretty sure Nanami didn’t want to marry her because he knew she was after his money and his shares in the firm. Now that she’s married to my father, that’s confirmed."

You frown. "I see."

"So, don’t worry about her or anything she says," Gojo adds. You give them a weak smile, and Geto pats your shoulder.

"Thank you, Geto-san, Gojo-san, I really appreciate it." They smile back, but Gojo pipes up again.

"Call us by our given names. I’d love to hear you say them with your accent—it’s so... hot!" Geto slaps Gojo on the head, and your face turns bright red with embarrassment.

"Satoru! I’m really sorry about him. I’ll go check with the bartender to make sure there’s no alcohol in his drink."

"N-no problem," you stammer, and Geto grabs Gojo by the arm, dragging him away, leaving you alone in the smoking area. You don’t want to smell like an ashtray, so you decide not to have another cigarette—even though you really want to at this moment—and head back to the party to find your boyfriend.

You quickly spot him talking to a man with white hair, easily recognizable as Gojo Sr. Kento sees you approach from behind and extends his arm for you to join him. He wraps his arm around your waist and introduces you—again—to his boss. You bow politely and wait for them to finish their conversation about upcoming plans before Kento leads you to a more private spot.

Kento kisses you directly, his hands on your waist, sliding slowly down to your butt. You giggle and gently reposition his hands on your lower back.

"Ken, we’re in public."

"I don’t care. Were you with Miwa?"

"I was actually with Geto-san and Gojo-san," you say. He looks at you curiously. "I was smoking with Geto until we got interrupted by Mei. She called me a side chick, then a gold digger, and a sugar baby before Gojo stepped in." Tears start welling up in your eyes, but you continue, your voice trembling. "She... left after saying she just wanted to see who took her crumbs." His expression hardens, and you feel his arms start to move away from your waist. You grab his forearms to keep them in place before you continue.

"I... It’s fine."

"No, it’s not. Did they tell you about what happened between me and her?" You nod. "That wasn’t their place to say."

"They didn’t want to, but I asked them, so you’ll have to blame me." You lower your head slowly, tears still gathering in the corners of your eyes.

"Fine."

"What she said... I’m not with you for your money. I-I really like you, and I don’t want you to think I’m just here to spend your money and be treated like a sugar baby, because I’m not, and—" He cuts you off.

"Baby, look at me."

A single tear escapes your eye as you mumble, "I can’t." He lifts your chin gently with his finger and wipes the tear away.

"Baby, I know you’re not. Believe me, I can tell the difference between a gold digger and someone who really likes me." You blush. "Don’t let her get into your head. She knows exactly what she’s doing." He leans in to kiss you again, and you place your hands on his neck. His hands slide lower again, but this time, you don’t stop him. He deepens the kiss, and soft moans escape your lips, blending into his. His hands graze your sides, and just as he leans in to whisper if you want to leave, you’re interrupted.

"Ooooh, lovebirds! So cute!" You hear Geto’s palm land on Gojo’s head again, and you snicker as Kento grumbles. You break the kiss and turn to face them.

"We’d like to know if you want to go to a nightclub with us. Miwa’s coming too, and some others you’ve probably already met," Geto says. Maybe it’s a little payback for not telling you his ex would be at the party, but you quickly accept the invitation.

After Gojo and Geto leave—reminding you to meet them at the elevator in 30 minutes—Kento looks at you with a frown.

"What?"

“I thought we were going home,” You snort, placing your hands on his torso.

“I never gave you an answer to that, and besides, you were the one telling me about the nightclub. I love to party, you know that." Your hands slide to his waist, gently squeezing. “Maybe we’ll get bored quickly, but I want to try. I’m pretty sure we’re not heading to Atom in Shibuya, and I really want to see a club reserved just for Japanese people.” He chuckles.

“Fine.”

You both head to the bar, where he sips on whiskey while you down another margarita. You’re already feeling tipsy by the time you join Geto and Gojo near the elevators. They tell you you’ll be sharing their car, and you just nod. Geto’s driving, and you notice Gojo’s hand resting on his thigh. You don’t comment, but you lean your head against Kento’s upper arm, mimicking Gojo by placing your hand on your boyfriend’s thigh.

The club is huge, filled with only Japanese patrons, and you feel like a wolf among sheep. Thankfully, Kento hands you his suit jacket, covering your tattoos at the entrance. Gojo gives his name to the bouncer, who points at you. They engage in a conversation you can’t hear, but Kento squeezes your waist reassuringly before you’re all allowed to enter.

Inside the club, you start—or continue—with shots, joined by Miwa, her boyfriend, Gojo, and a few people you recognize from the party. Kento and Geto sip whiskey, having a quiet conversation while watching the rest of you. You go dancing with Gojo, laughing as he shares juicy stories about the firm. After another cocktail, still dancing with Gojo, he leans in to speak directly into your ear.

“Aren’t they hot? Can you believe we bagged them?” You choke on your own spit, then laugh loudly.

“Yeah, we’re so lucky.” Gojo notices Geto looking at him and blows him a kiss, making you laugh again.

“You’re such a sap. Come on, let’s join them.” You sit next to Kento, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“Are you having fun?”

“Yes, but it would be even better if you joined me!” He snorts, but you stand up.

“Come on, babe, let’s dance!” He reluctantly stands, and you glance over at Geto and Gojo. Gojo is pouting, and you quickly understand why—Geto doesn’t want to dance with him. You smirk, and Gojo playfully sticks his tongue out at you before you grab Kento’s arm and head to the dancefloor.

On the dancefloor, Kento wraps his arms around your waist, kissing you slowly. The two of you sway through a few songs, not really following the rhythm, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the feel of his hands on your body and his tongue teasing yours. You moan into his mouth, and his grip on your waist tightens.

“Baby…”

“Want you, Ken.” You gently scratch his nape as his hands move higher, toying with the spaghetti straps of your dress.

“We’ll have to go home then.”

“Can we? I’ll pay for the Uber.” He chuckles.

“Let me check with Geto first.” He kisses your nose before you both return to the booth. Geto speaks first, with a drunk Gojo leaning on his shoulder.

“We’re about to leave. He’s clearly had too much. Do you want to stay?”

“No, we were about to ask if you wanted to leave anyway, so that’s perfect. Could you drive us to my place?”

“Sure, if you help me get him in the car.” You giggle.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Gojo pouts.

“If you say so, love. Let’s go.” You smile widely, and soon enough, you’re back in Geto’s car, leaning against Kento who lazily traces your forearm tattoos. You chuckle softly as you notice him shifting in his seat. Up front, Gojo talks to himself while Geto tries not to listen, still chuckling at his words. The nightclub isn’t far from Ginza, and in less than five minutes, you’re thanking Gojo and Geto before getting out of the car. Geto smiles, and Gojo insists you all meet again soon. You agree and wave them off before Kento wastes no time, guiding you to the elevator and pressing the button for the top floor.

The moment the doors close, his mouth is on your neck, his hands groping your ass, and you sigh softly. You feel him sucking a hickey on your neck, and you mumble, “I can’t hide them, Kento. You’ll have to stop.”

His grip tightens. “I’m not making them for you to hide them.” To emphasize his point, he adds another one just as the elevator dings. You barely have time to kick off your shoes before he’s practically carrying you to the bedroom, and you laugh at his urgency.

“Someone’s impatient?”

“I’ve been waiting for hours.” Kiss. “I can’t believe I had to watch you dance with Gojo before you asked to leave.” He unzips your dress. “Did you at least have fun?” He slides your dress off, leaving you in just the dark grey thong he bought for you.

“A lot of fun, yes.” He turns you around, pressing your back against his clothed erection, and you gasp as his hands move to knead your breasts.

“I’ve been hard for hours, baby.” His thumbs brush over your nipples and you whine. “Can you feel it?” Your back is flush against his torso, and you nod frantically, too breathless to speak. His demeanor is completely different from other times, and it makes you wet. You grab one of his hands and push it toward your core, but he tuts.

“Not yet. Go on the bed while I undress.”

You obey, reclining in the middle of the bed, your back propped up by pillows. You watch as he undresses, and you can’t help yourself. You cup your breasts, watching as he slowly unbuttons his white shirt. When he pulls it off, you begin to circle your pierced nipples with your thumbs, mewling softly. He doesn’t say a word, only watching as you play with your breasts. Silently, he unzips his pants, and one of your hands moves straight to your core. You push your thong to the side, and his pupils dilate when he sees how drenched you are. You circle your clit with your finger, moaning softly. His slacks hit the floor, but he’s still quiet, his eyes glued to you. You know the alcohol you drank is helping you feel this bold, as you’d never be able to do this fully sober. When he reaches for his underwear, you close your eyes and increase the pace on your clit, your moans growing louder.

“Open your eyes.”

When you do, a few seconds after his command, the first thing you see is his hand slowly stroking his cock. You look at his face and see that he’s watching you touch yourself, and you moan.

“Put a finger in. You’re going to prepare yourself.” He’s still stroking his shaft as you insert your middle finger into your core. His gaze is almost overwhelming, but you don’t dare close your eyes, focusing instead on the movement of his hand. You add another finger, and the familiar warmth of your approaching orgasm grows in your belly.

“Ken...”

“Not yet.” You’re not sure how, but the condom and bottle of lube are already on the bed. He quickly takes the condom and rolls it onto his dick. He adds lube, even though he sees your slick coating your fingers, and kneels on the bed. Your fingers are still inside you, but you don’t remove them, waiting for his instruction. Kento takes your hand, slipping your fingers into his mouth, cleaning them. You feel empty, but the sensation of his tongue is so hot, you still moan. Once your fingers are clean, you trace his bottom lip with your thumb, and he kisses it before removing your thong.

“Are you ready? I won’t be as gentle as usual.”

“That’s fine, I’m ready.”

He grabs your hips and pulls you closer. In one thrust, he’s fully inside you. The moan you let out is loud, and you clench involuntarily around his shaft. His hand brushes your sternum to soothe you, and as soon as you relax, he sets a quick pace. You breathe his name and wrap your legs around his waist, pressing your feet against his lower back. He grunts and leans down to kiss you, his mouth finding one of your nipples, sucking and circling it with his tongue. You bury your head into the pillows, overwhelmed by the sensations building inside you since the evening began.

He’s rougher than usual, and your body responds eagerly. Your grip on his forearms is tight, and he grunts when your nails dig into his skin. Despite his strong pace, it’s not enough. He pulls out abruptly, and you whine.

“Wha—”

“On all fours.”

He helps you shift, and you whine again as he fills you. Your back arches, pressing your ass against him, and he groans when he sees you lowering your upper body onto the bed, leaning on your forearms. The coil in your stomach is about to snap. You grip the sheets, trying to find balance as he pounds into you. You can barely meet his thrusts, but you still try, aided by his strong hands on your hips. You moan his name, and he understands, moving one hand to your clit, circling it quickly. You don’t even have time to warn him before your orgasm hits. You moan loudly into the pillow, your walls clenching around him.

“Fuck, baby, you’re milking me.”

You can only whimper in response, overstimulated. He only needs a few more thrusts before he comes into the condom, groaning. He waits a few seconds before pulling out, and your lower body collapses onto the bed, your face turned to the side. You give him a weak smile as he discards the condom, and when he returns, you rest your cheek against his torso as he caresses your arm.

“I don’t want to move,” you mumble.

“But you have to take off your makeup.”

“I knooooow, but I’m too exhausted,” you whine.

“Come on, baby. If you do it now, you’ll sleep better.” He kisses your temple before getting up from the bed, handing you a T-shirt. You pout but take it and head to the bathroom. At the sink, you’re surprised to see a bottle of micellar water—the same brand you use in your apartment. You look at Kento with a smirk, and he just shrugs.

“I thought you’d prefer that instead of using water.” You chuckle.

“You’re right. Thanks, babe.” He leaves the bathroom, and you take the opportunity to use the toilet before crawling back under the sheets. Kento joins you a few minutes later, but you’re no longer sleepy. You lift your head from his torso and look at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me your ex was going to be there?” He exhales.

“Because I thought you wouldn’t have to talk to her. That was a mistake, and I apologize.” You kiss his collarbone.

“It’s fine. I’ll have to thank Gojo and Geto again because I was about to slap her, you know.” He frowns.

“What?”

“Yeah, not because she was disrespectful to me, but to you—and you weren’t there to defend yourself. Gojo had to grab me by the shoulder.” He snorts.

“Thanks, baby. I appreciate that. She can say whatever she wants. Everyone knows what she did to me and why she’s now in the Gojo family, so...”

“Yeah. And she had the nerve to call me a sugar baby?” He laughs.

“How bold of her.” You laugh with him, and he kisses your lips.

“Alright, do you want to sleep?” You trace patterns on his torso before moving to straddle him.

“Now? I’m not sleepy anymore.” He chuckles as you lean in for another kiss, his hands already slipping under your shirt.

Chapter Text

______________

Even though your relationship with Kento Nanami is still relatively new—almost three months now—you don’t argue much. You share the same interests, he’s kind, makes time for you despite his sometimes tight schedule, the intimacy is wonderful, and you feel you can truly be yourself with him. The only thing you tend to argue about is money: thanks to his position at his firm and some stocks he bought years ago, he’s financially comfortable in Tokyo and doesn’t worry about spending. He always wants to pay for whatever you want to buy or for things he wants to get for you, saying he has the money and wants to spend it on you—but you’re not comfortable with this. You don’t want to take advantage, which he doesn’t fully understand. And at this very moment, you’re arguing about it again, over takeout.

“Kento, just let me pay! You paid for the last one!”

“And?”

“We have to share; you’re not going to pay every time for me!”

“Yes, I will.” He hands the money to the delivery man, who bows before leaving. Kento closes the door and looks at you.

“C’mon, the food is going to get cold.” You frown at him.

“I’m not hungry anymore.” You turn and leave the living room, heading to the bedroom. You bury yourself under the sheets, trying not to cry because of his stubbornness. Your back is to him when he opens the door, sighing before sitting beside you on the bed. You ignore him, focusing on steadying your breathing to keep from crying like a child.

“Baby, please.” You keep silent, and he places a hand on your shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d be this upset; it’s just takeout.” The only sound after he speaks is your quiet sniffles, as his words bring fresh tears. He leans in, wrapping himself around you from behind as the big spoon. When you finally feel in control, you respond.

“You don’t understand.”

“Then tell me.”

“I’ve told you already! I... I don’t want you spending your money on me, even if you want to. I’m perfectly capable of paying for things, even if I’m not as well-off as you are.”

“But it’s just takeout.” You turn slightly but avoid his gaze.

“It’s not just takeout! It’s weekend getaways from Tokyo, dinners, bars, clothes, lingerie, me being in your apartment while you’re at work, using your electricity, water, internet, eating your food, and I never pay for anything. If one of your friends was doing all this for a new girlfriend who earns less and is younger than him, wouldn’t you think she might be taking advantage of him?”

“I...” He starts, but you cut him off.

“You’d probably think that, even if he denied it. And I don’t want that.” His grip around your waist tightens as you wipe away the tears on your cheeks. “So yes, I’m upset that you don’t understand.” You turn to face him. “I know you just want to make me happy, and I really appreciate it, but let me do something nice for you too. I’m a grown-up; I can pay for things.”

“What if I want to gift you things?” You roll your eyes.

“Just... not too many?” He chuckles.

“Fine.” He kisses your forehead and wipes away the last of your tears. “Let’s eat before it really gets cold.” You sigh but follow him to the kitchen, where the food is, in fact, cold.

______________

You’re sitting on Kento’s couch, lazily scrolling through TikTok and your other social media when he returns from a last-minute meeting. He heads to the kitchen to wash his hands, then comes over, kisses your cheek, removes his tie, and rolls up his sleeves to his elbows before sitting beside you. Extending an arm, he invites you to come closer. You set your phone down on the coffee table, straddle him, and begin peppering kisses across his face. His hands rest on your lower back, and you sigh in contentment as you cup his face. He smiles up at you, starting the conversation.

“I’m really looking forward to the holidays.” You giggle and kiss him on the lips. Since your family visited you during Golden Week, they aren’t coming in the summer, so you hadn’t made any plans. Kento asked you a few weeks ago to join him on his holiday to Fiji, and you agreed—on a few conditions: you’d pay for your own plane ticket (he frowned but agreed), you’d get to cover at least one meal (he initially said no but relented after one look from you), and you’d give him a nice gift (actually, it’s for both of you, but he doesn’t know that yet). You know he’d never let you pay for the accommodation, and you didn’t want to start an argument, so you left it at that.

“Me too. Did you fill out the travel authorization?”

“This morning. You?”

“After lunch. I also ordered new swimsuits for the trip.” He hums, stroking your back and gently lifting your shirt to place his hands on your bare skin. He kisses you slowly, his hands tracing up your spine and sides, then settling just below your breasts. When he realizes you’re not wearing a bra, he raises an eyebrow, and you just shrug.

“You know, bras aren’t exactly comfortable. And since I had nothing to do…”

“Well, I’m not complaining.” His hands slide up to cup your breasts, and you let out a soft sigh. His thumbs trace slow circles around your nipples, teasing you the way he knows you like, and you start shifting slightly against him, seeking more friction. Undistracted by your movements, he continues talking.

“Geto and Gojo asked if we’d like to join them tonight.” You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your hips moving subtly against him as he continues his attentions on your chest.

“They want to go to the SG Club in Shibuya. Do you know it?” You shake your head, still nestled in his neck, letting out a quiet whimper. You’re in your typical “stay-at-home outfit”—a T-shirt, regular panties, and shorts—but you can already feel yourself growing wet.

“They have excellent cocktails. Afterward, they might want to head to the same nightclub we went to last time.” You hum in approval. “I need an answer, baby, so I can tell them yes or no.” He pauses, removing his hands from your body, and you whine at the loss.

“Okay, yes, we can go out with them.”

“Perfect, I’ll text Geto afterward.” He grips the hem of your T-shirt, and you raise your arms so he can pull it off. In one smooth motion, he leans you back on the couch, tugs at your shorts, and you lift your hips so he can remove them. He slides off both your shorts and panties, leaving you splayed naked on his couch while he’s still fully dressed. That’s kinda hot, you think. He cups your cheek, tracing a path down your sternum, and you whimper.

“Kento…”

“Fingers or mouth?” Your eyes widen.

“I…” His hand hovers near your mound, and you arch your hips for some friction, but he just looks you in the eye, waiting for your answer.

“Well?”

“Can I have both?” He chuckles and leans in to kiss you.

“Of course, baby.” He kisses your mouth, jaw, neck, sternum, each of your breasts, stomach, and belly before finally reaching your mound. You’re already writhing under him, anticipating his touch, and when he places a light kiss near your clit, you shudder. His index finger traces your slit, and you moan his name. He smiles at you before lowering his mouth, licking a slow strip from your entrance to your clit, then latching his lips around the bundle of nerves. Thankfully, the apartment is well-insulated because you’re already too loud for the neighbors. Kento’s hand rests on your hip, the other grazing your inner thigh as he sucks and licks at your clit. You can do nothing but moan and focus on the growing sensation in your belly as he continues his assault, his fingers inching toward your entrance.

“Kento... Please, need them.”

He raises his eyes to watch your reaction as he inserts his index and middle fingers into your clenching heat. You shut your eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation as he pumps in and out of you. His lips and tongue keep working, sucking and licking as though you’re his personal feast, and the knot in your stomach is almost painful. The hand on your hip moves to your breast, kneading it as he curls his fingers inside you. You cry out when his middle finger grazes your g-spot.

“Oh God, Kento…”

He hums against your clit but doesn’t stop. A firm thrust of his fingers against your g-spot, his tongue lapping at your clit, his other hand on your breast, and his gaze locked on you—all combine to send you over the edge with a loud moan, your back arching off the couch. Your fingers tighten in his hair, and he removes his mouth from your core, letting his fingers help you ride out your orgasm. You’re sweaty, your inner thighs slick, and you’re panting as if you just climbed Mount Fuji. He gives you a moment before slowly removing his fingers and sits back on his knees, admiring you sprawled out on the couch, smiling tiredly up at him.

“I’ll text Geto, but we probably need to be there by 8:00 p.m.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him with confusion.

“But... what about you?”

“I’m good. You were just too tempting on my couch; I had to thank you somehow.” Your cheeks redden.

“So, basically, I’m tempting in anything I wear?” He smirks.

“Absolutely. You should wear that dress you had on at the party; it’s perfect for the bar.” It’s actually the only night dress you have at his place—the rest are back at your apartment. You won’t have time to run home and come back, so it’ll have to do. You sit up, careful not to stain the couch, and gather your clothes as he heads to the kitchen to wash his hands.

“Fine. You know I can’t wear a bra with that dress—I don’t have my strapless one here.” You hear him call from the kitchen.

“That’s even better.” You snort, slipping back into your T-shirt and heading to the bathroom for a well-deserved shower. Afterward, wrapped in a towel, you sit on the bed and text Ino.

To: Kuma 💙
6:52 p.m.
Going to the SG Club tonight w/ Geto & Gojo. Any recommendations?

Since you don’t have all your makeup here, you’ll have to make do with the products you left at his apartment. You go with your usual look, leaving your hair down to maybe hide the hickeys on each side of your neck from Gojo’s nosy gaze. For the outfit, you grab the infamous dark red dress with spaghetti straps. Thank goodness you don’t have your Louboutins anymore. Kento steps out of the bathroom, and you take the chance to kiss his bare shoulder before slipping in to do your makeup. While applying foundation to your neck, your phone dings.

From: Kuma 💙
7:10 p.m.
Depends on which floor you’ll be on.

To: Kuma 💙
7:11 p.m.
There are different floors???

From: Kuma 💙
7:13 p.m.
Yes 😂 You’ll probably be on the Savor floor, so I think you’d like the Imoretto Sour. Everything’s in English, so you’ll be fine 💙

To: Kuma 💙
7:15 p.m.
Thank you, Kuma 🤍

From: Kuma 💙
7:20 p.m.
You’re welcome, Boo 🤍

You smile at your phone before finishing your makeup and hair and heading back to the bedroom, where Kento waits for you on the bed. He’s wearing the dark gray suit that always makes you weak, and you step between his parted legs, still wrapped in your bath towel.

“I said it last time, but that color really suits you.” You trace the collar of his shirt with your fingers, and his hands slide to your sides, caressing you as he hums in appreciation. “Maybe you should wear this color only and forget the others.”

“Maybe it would be too tempting for you?” He raises his head to look at you, and you trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

“Oh, it definitely would be.” His large hands slip under your towel, massaging your ass, and you sigh.

“So, maybe I should cancel the evening with Geto and Gojo?” You giggle.

“No, I’d like to try this bar. Will you at least let me pay for my first cocktail?”

“I think Gojo’s planning to cover us.” You pout, and he chuckles.

“Fine, fine.” You slip out of his embrace to get dressed while he orders an Uber to the bar. He zips up your dress, kisses your shoulder, and, after putting on your shoes at the entrance, you both leave the apartment. The drive to the bar is mostly silent, with him tracing patterns on your knee as you lean your head on his shoulder. The silence is only broken when his phone rings: Gojo, growing impatient, complains about your timing. Kento’s reaction is priceless, and you laugh, amused, until you reach your destination. As soon as you step out of the car, Gojo’s voice reaches you.

“Finally! I’m thirsty, you know.” He takes your hand and kisses the back of it as Geto and Kento greet each other. You snort.

“We’re not even late; you said 8:00 p.m., and it’s… 7:55?”

“No, you’re not late,” Geto interjects with a soft smile. “He was just too impatient to start the evening with, I quote, ‘Nanamin and his lovely teacher.’” Kento frowns, and you giggle at the nicknames.

“I have a name, you know,” you say to Gojo, waving at Geto.

“I know, but I prefer calling you that.” He pouts, and you chuckle.

“Alright, maybe we should head in since you’re so thirsty?”

They all nod, and after a short walk, you enter the SG Club, your hand intertwined with Kento’s. Gojo gives his name, and the host guides your group to the third floor—as Ino had predicted—seating you at a reserved table. Geto explains that this floor is dedicated to a cigar and cocktail experience, and you nod in approval. Geto picks a cigar, followed, to your surprise, by Kento and Gojo, while you scan the cocktail menu. You quickly find the cocktail Ino recommended in his text, and Gojo approves your choice. After everyone orders, you engage in casual conversation as you wait.

You share a bit about where you work, explaining that you got the job almost by accident during a holiday trip to Japan. You’d applied with low expectations, only to land the position after just one interview. Even though Kento already knows most of this, he listens attentively, his hand resting on your knee. Then Gojo decides to pry.

“So, you met Nanami at the office party, but how did you end up there?”

“Ino Takuma invited me as his plus one.” Gojo chokes on his cigar, and Geto pats his back, chuckling.

“So you broke Ino’s heart to go for Nanami?” Your eyes widen.

“God, no! Ino’s my best friend. He invited me because I had nothing to do that evening, and he had this party from work. He practically dragged me there.” Geto chuckles.

“You’re not a cheater, then—that’s good to know.”

“I would never. I’ve been cheated on before, and I’d never do that to anyone.” They all regard you thoughtfully, and you take a sip of your cocktail to steady yourself. Kento squeezes your knee, and you give him a shy smile; he didn’t know about that detail. “But let’s change the subject. How long have you two been together?” Geto takes a sip of his cocktail before answering.

“Thirteen years.” It’s your turn to choke on your drink, and Kento gently pats your back.

“Thirteen years? Damn, that’s a lifetime.” They all chuckle as Geto explains that they first met in high school and got together in college. Eventually, they both landed good positions at the firm, working their way up to the board, with Gojo poised to become CEO when his father retires.

“I see.” The conversation continues, gradually shifting toward their work. You sip quietly on your cocktail, taking it all in—and maybe even picking up some new vocabulary—until everyone orders another round. As you finish your second cocktail, Geto lights another cigar, though Kento and Gojo pass on it. You decide to step outside for a smoke, and while you’re out there, you lend your lighter to a man who starts up a conversation. You’re polite at first, but he quickly makes you uncomfortable with unhidden innuendos. Even when you tell him you’re not interested, he persists and inches closer.

“Sir, I’m sorry, I said I wasn’t interested. Could you please give me back my lighter?”

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, don’t tell me you’re not here to hook up with a Japanese guy?” He reaches toward your arm, and your eyes widen. Oh God, I’m alone, and this shouldn’t be happening here. What do I do? Am I in danger? I don’t even have my phone to call Kento, and—

“We could have some fun if you come home with me,” he presses.

Suddenly, a firm hand clamps down on his forearm, and you look up to see Gojo, his gaze cold and unyielding.

“I think you heard the lady. She’s not interested, and she’d like her lighter back.” The man stumbles back, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Fine, fine, take it,” he grumbles, almost throwing the lighter at you as he extricates himself from Gojo’s grip. “Enjoy your little slut.” Your eyes widen, tears prickling at the insult.

“Who’s the slut here? The lady who told you politely that she wasn’t interested, or the jerk who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer?” Gojo retorts.

“Fuck off, man.” The guy turns and stomps back into the bar. You exhale loudly, letting your cigarette fall to the ground as you take deep, steadying breaths. Gojo places a reassuring hand on your back, stroking it gently.

“Thank you… Satoru?” you murmur. He chuckles.

“Yeah, I like how my name sounds when you say it, Miss Teacher. No problem. Nanami was starting to wonder why you were taking so long with one cigarette. He’s a bit clingy, you know?” You snort.

“If you say so. I’m going to smoke another one. You can go back inside if you want; I’ll be fine.”

“Nah, I’ll stay with you—better safe than sorry, right?” You chuckle, nodding as you light another cigarette. You and Gojo chat casually, and you find yourself warming to him; he’s funny, with a playful, childlike attitude that’s surprisingly endearing. He mentions how Geto keeps him grounded, and you smile.

“And, obviously, sex with him is amazing!” he adds, making you choke on your cigarette.

“Should I know that?” you manage, laughing.

“Of course! I mean, I doubt you’re a virgin, right?” He gives you a teasing look, and you roll your eyes. “Oh god, poor Nanami—how long has he had to wait for you to be ready?” You punch his arm, and he pouts.

“I’m not a virgin! We’ve already had sex, thank you very much.”

“And? How was it?” He winks, and you sigh.

“You’d get along great with Ino and Todo; their favorite pastime is trying to get details about their boss’s sex life.”

“Sooo…?”

“You’re such a pervert. But, yes, it’s incredible—the best I’ve ever had. Satisfied?”

“Very. Now I can blackmail him.”

“Blackmail? How? I just told you he’s the best I’ve ever had!”

“I’ll figure something out.” He winks again, and you snort just as you’re interrupted.

“Do you plan on smoking the entire pack?” Geto’s voice reaches you, and you turn to see both him and Kento watching from the bar’s doorway.

“Oh, babe, it’s the same as when I’m with you! I think you’re smoking the same cigarettes!” Gojo grins.

“I’m trying to quit, but they’re just too addicting, you know,” you joke, pouting at Geto. Kento approaches while Gojo heads back inside to join him.

“We overheard a guy ranting on his way back, saying a ‘white-haired jerk’ stopped him from taking a foreigner home, so we came to check on you.” You squeeze Kento’s forearm and crush your cigarette underfoot.

“Yeah, he was a bit too persistent, but thankfully, Gojo stepped in just in time.” Kento places a hand on your cheek, and you lean into his touch. “I’m fine, I promise.” He hums in acknowledgment, though his eyes show lingering concern. Nearby, you hear Gojo’s voice again.

“Don’t worry, Nanamin, I’ll talk to the owner and make sure that creep’s never allowed back here. Come on, let’s get another round!”

One round turns into another… and another, until you and Gojo are happily tipsy, pleading with your partners to take you to a nightclub because “it’s almost midnight, and we have to go dancing!” During the Uber ride, you’re seated on Kento’s lap with his grip firm on your waist—and you can feel his arousal pressing against you. Then at the club, you and Gojo take shots like water, and Kento and Geto watch with amused disbelief.

Eventually, you drag Gojo onto the dance floor—not without pouting at Kento and Geto for refusing to join right away—and the two of you dance together as if you’re the only ones there. A few guys attempt to slide between you and him, but Gojo grips your waist, while you cling to his shoulders, stretching to reach his height. Even drunk, he manages to fend off any guys who try to approach either of you. Leaning down, he shouts over the music into your ear.

"I’ve never seen Nanamin like this—he looks at you like he wants to devour you, Miss Teacher!" You playfully punch Gojo's arm before glancing over at Kento. His gaze makes your knees weak; he’s indeed looking at you as if he wants to eat you alive. You chuckle, blowing him a kiss, and catch a small smile on his lips before he turns to speak with Geto. Pouting, you turn back to Gojo.

“C’mon, Satoru, they have to join us!”

“You’re right. Let’s go!”

You both stumble a little, still laughing, and reach your booth, where your boyfriends are watching with curious gazes. Leaning close to Kento’s ear, you plead, “Baby, I want to dance with you, please?” You look up at him with puppy eyes, and he sighs, glancing over at Geto, who’s already being dragged to the dance floor.

“Sure, love, let’s go.” You blush, thrilled he’s following you. He spins you, kisses you intermittently, and dances with you, making you laugh the entire time. After all that dancing, the alcohol is finally beginning to wear off. When Kento leans in to kiss you again, you open your mouth to playfully tangle tongues with him. He chuckles, his hands moving to your hips, massaging them lightly. You sigh, letting your hands drift to his neck, your thumbs caressing his jaw. The kiss lasts a while, and you’re lost in the feel of his body pressed close, his tongue playing with yours, and his hands gripping you even tighter. You moan softly into his mouth, feeling yourself grind against him until he gently pulls back, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“Baby, we’re in public...” You look up at him with lidded eyes.

“M’sorry, Ken, I just... probably drank too much.”

“Maybe we should go home, then. What do you think?”

“Mh... Good idea.” He kisses your forehead and leads you back to the booth just as Geto and Gojo rejoin you. Leaning your head on Kento’s shoulder, feeling sleepy, you listen as he explains to his friends that you’re ready to head home. Geto nods sympathetically, and Gojo pouts, "I wanted to go for an afterparty in Taito!" You smile sheepishly, saying your farewells before Kento wraps an arm around your waist and guides you out. In the Uber, you never stop rambling.

“Kento, baby, ‘m sorry I drank that much;” “Next time I won’t drink at all and I’ll take care of you;” “I will never drink again” (he chuckles at this one); “I should have punched that jerk at the bar, but I didn’t want to go to jail;” “I’ll cook lunch tomorrow;” “Maybe I should quit my job and just be your full-time sugar baby.” The “sugar baby” bit has become a private joke between you and him, and you both laugh, surprising the Uber driver. Kento smiles apologetically at him, and before long, you’re back at the apartment. Your boyfriend leads you to the bathroom to remove your makeup, brush your teeth, and change, helping you out of your dress. Mumbling in your native language, you slip into bed. You’re drifting off when Kento finally joins you, and you snuggle up to him, murmuring softly in Japanese.

“Love you, Kento.”

He stares at you for a few moments, a smile crossing his lips before he realizes you've already drifted off, snoring lightly. He kisses your forehead and falls asleep, still smiling.

__________________

The next morning, you wake up early. REALLY early. You’ve barely slept five hours when your bladder insists on waking you. After a quick trip to the bathroom, you try to fall back asleep, but it’s no use. Pressing yourself close to Kento, you feel him slowly wake up, a little grumpy. You trace patterns on his chest, and he relaxes under your touch.

“You’re not usually up this early.” His deep, sleepy voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you squirm a little, shifting to straddle him, the sheet draped around your hips.

“I couldn’t sleep, but I’ll probably nap this afternoon.” He chuckles, and you lean down to kiss him, his hands moving to your sides, massaging you softly as you sigh against his mouth. You begin kissing his face—nose, cheeks, jaw, neck—leaving a tiny hickey on his collarbone. He props himself up on his elbows, hand caressing your hair.

“Awfully awake, aren’t you?” he murmurs.

You grin against his chest, then continue down, peppering kisses over his torso. When you reach his hip bone, he sucks in a breath, watching as you trail your way to his already-hard cock. You smirk at the sight of him, aroused and waiting, and press a soft kiss to the tip.

“Baby, you don’t have to... I’m fine,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I want to, and I want it all” you say, locking eyes with him. He stares at you, understanding dawning as he realizes you mean to take him fully. He never came in your mouth yet and not per your request, but you were fine with him cumming on your tits or your stomach. A few days ago, he gave you his STD results and everything was clear. You smile and lick him from base to tip before slowly taking him into your mouth. His mouth falls open, a low groan escaping as his hand settles in your hair, not pushing, just holding. You think quickly of pickles to get your mouth to water, and it works, easing the way as you take more of him in. You begin to bob your head, finding a rhythm, and you watch his face—the way his jaw clenches, his brows knit, his lips part.

“F-Fuck, baby, you’re doing so well,” he moans, and you feel a surge of pride at his praise. His cock twitches, and his grip tightens as you hollow your cheeks, humming in satisfaction. His moans send waves of arousal straight to your core, but right now, this is all for him. The part of him that can’t enter your mouth is slowly stroked by one of your hand and your other hand is intertwined with his, gripping it lightly. When he finally warns you, “I’m close,” you don’t pull away. He comes with a loud, shuddering moan, and you swallow every drop, savoring his taste as you pull back and rest your chin on his stomach, grinning up at him.

“You did so well, baby. Thank you,” he says, voice hoarse. You giggle, and he traces your bottom lip with his thumb, making you shiver.

“Since you tried something new... I’d like to try something new too, if you trust me.” You raise a brow, intrigued.

“Please don’t tell me you’re into BDSM,” you joke, and he laughs.

“No, not that.” He pulls you up to straddle him, hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your piercings and you whine. Then, he makes you lean so he can take a nipple in his mouth and you moan softly, your hands on his shoulders. He plays with them for a while, stimulating you and getting you wetter every second. You squirm on him, grinding slowly to ease your excitement. “I want you to sit on my face,” he finally says.

“What?” You gape, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“You heard me. Trust me, you’re not going to crush me.” You hesitate, but his reassuring smile eases your worry. Slowly, you shift yourself until you’re hovering over him, feeling a bit self-conscious. But his warm hands guide your hips, and you feel his tongue press against you, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

“Ohhh, Kento, that feels so good.” You grip the headboard, shuddering as he laps at you, his mouth worshipping every inch. Your knees are on either part of his head, his hands are settled on your hips and he eats you out like a man starved, as always. But this time, the sensations are different: you feel him even better, his tongue lapping and tracing at your slit before his lips settle on your clit, sucking it gently. You let out a satisfied moan, telling him again how much you like it. He just hums at the answer and the vibration makes you jolt. Your knuckles are white, gripping at the headboard and you also feel that you’re not going to last. His tongue circle your clit and you grind on it, moaning loudly before he inserts it on your throbbing hole, lapping at your juices. You can just take his assaults, grinding on his face and he seems to appreciate it. For a while, he does not give attention to your clit but when his tongue goes back to it, rubbing it, you almost shout.

“Oh god, just like that - ngh - Ken, I’m...”

You continue grinding on his face, your clit almost overstimulated but you’re not coming yet. You cup one of your breasts, your thumb and index playing with your nipple and when he sucks again on your clit, more sharply this time, the knot in your stomach snaps and you cum on his face. Your juices leak from you, going straight on him and you moan his name loudly while riding your orgasm. You can feel him smile against your pussy before his tongue laps once more at it, cleaning you like he doesn’t want to waste any drop. As you collapse next to him, he pulls you into a warm hug, both of you content, hearts still racing.

“Fuck, that was incredible.”

“I told you so, didn’t I?” You snort but nod, resting your cheek against his chest as he strokes your back gently. You relax in silence for a while until his voice breaks the quiet.

“What do you want to do today? The exhibition you wanted to see in Ikebukuro is still open, or we could watch some movies here... or anything else?” You hum thoughtfully.

“First, I’m hungry.” He chuckles.

“Breakfast in bed?”

You shake your head. “On the couch. I don’t want crumbs in the bed—it’s disgusting.” He nods in approval.

“The exhibition could be nice, yes. This afternoon, maybe?”

“It’s open until 9:00 p.m. We could go in the evening and grab dinner afterward. A new sushi place opened nearby; we could try it.” You nod in agreement.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“The usual.”

You both get out of bed, slipping into comfortable stay-at-home clothes before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast together. Even after a big mug of coffee, you still end up dozing on the couch for about an hour. Gentle strokes on your arm eventually wake you when it’s time to shower and get ready for the day. Luckily, you don’t have a hangover and enjoy the day to the fullest.

Chapter Text

______________________

Perks of flying business class: unlimited food and alcohol, a proper night lying on the seat (instead of being uncomfortably seated in economy), and access to airport lounges. Cons of flying business class: the price. You almost fainted a few weeks ago when you saw the price you had to pay to sit next to your boyfriend—because obviously, Kento doesn’t fly economy—and you weren’t thrilled about flying next to strangers while he was on the same plane. Thankfully, since you didn’t travel this year to see your family, you had savings that covered the plane ticket. You never complained to him about the price because you already knew what he would say: “Let me pay for it, I want to.” Instead, you vented to Ino, who just laughed before saying you wouldn’t regret it.

And in fact, you're not regretting it at the moment. The cabin crew is lovely, and they handed you a glass of champagne as soon as you sat down. You cheers with Kento, who listens to you rambling about the amazing lounge and the delicious pastries they had, just chuckling. Then, you properly fall asleep for a while, only waking up to the smell of food. Rice, chicken, vegetables, ice cream, and peach iced tea later, you’re munching on some chocolate while watching Parasite before falling asleep again. When the flight attendant wakes you up for landing—so you can put your seatbelt back on—you’re grumpy, and Kento notices. He doesn’t say anything, knowing that if he does, you’ll get even grumpier. Instead, he extends his arm and takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. You smile weakly at him, still not speaking, and close your eyes.

The stopover in Brisbane goes by incredibly fast, to your surprise. You barely have time to brush your teeth, do your skincare, and drink a coffee in the lounge before you have to board your second flight, still in business class. This time, you don’t sleep and finish your movie before chatting quietly with your boyfriend. At the airport, you quickly grab your luggage, head for the rental car, and after a 16-hour trip, you’re finally in your hotel room. You barely pay attention to your surroundings, lost in your thoughts and the fact that you’re clearly exhausted, even though there’s only a 2-hour difference with Japan. You only react when Kento grabs your waist and kisses your cheek.

“Is everything alright? What do you want to do?” He asks. You hug him and sigh, your cheek pressed against his torso.

“I think I want to take a shower.”

“Go ahead then. Do you want me to join, or do you prefer being alone? I know the first flight didn’t end well for you.” You chuckle lightly before looking at him.

“No, it was fine. I’ll leave the door open. You can join me whenever you’re ready. I think I need a long shower.”

You’re already throwing your shirt on the floor in the room before leaving the rest of your clothes on the bench in the bathroom—because obviously, there’s a bench in the damn bathroom—along with a massive mirror, two sinks, a huge shower, and even a bath. The bath is tempting at the moment, but you don’t want to waste too much water, so the shower will do. In the shower, you sigh in contentment. You never really liked long flights, and even though this time was in business class, you weren’t entirely comfortable. You close your eyes and reopen them only when you feel Kento’s arms around your waist. He makes you turn around, and you smile weakly at him.

“Baby, are you okay? Do you want me to leave you alone for a while?” He gestures as if to remove his hands from your waist, but you grip his forearms, shaking your head.

“I... don’t know, actually. I’m tired because it was a very long trip, but at the same time, I’m so happy and grateful to be on holiday in another country with you.” He smiles at you and leans in to kiss your forehead before peppering kisses on your nose, cheeks, jaw, and finally your lips. You melt in his embrace, sighing softly when his hands knead your waist. One of his hands moves to cup your cheek, and you lean into it.

“I’m happy you’re here with me, love. I think I would have canceled if you’d said no.” Your eyes widen.

“But… why? You deserve these holidays; you work so hard to get a few weeks of rest.”

“Because I know I’d get bored quickly if you weren’t here.” You giggle before putting your hands on his shoulders, implicitly asking him to kiss you. He understands and presses his lips against yours, nibbling at your bottom lip until you part your lips to play with his tongue. His hands roam your back before reaching your ass, and you press your body against him, your nipples hardening from the friction. Your fingers grip the junction between his neck and shoulders as he kisses your neck, leaving new hickeys on your skin. You mewl softly, but he straightens up.

“Baby, if you’re tired, maybe we should just shower and go to bed early?” Your grip tightens on his shoulders, almost desperate.

“No, please, I... need you to make me feel good, Ken.” At this moment, even though you're tired, you only want him, and he seems to understand. He leans in again to kiss your neck, his hands roaming over your body before reaching your breasts to knead them slowly, playing with your pierced nipples so he can hear you moan. You wriggle against his palms, searching for friction. Your hands are on his back, tracing his spine, and you hear him sigh softly before asking:

“My fingers only, or my mouth too?” One of his hands moves near your mound, and you need a few seconds before answering.

“Just your fingers, please.” His index finger lands on your clit, circling it slowly, and you whimper. You feel his erection on your thigh, and you lower your hand to take it, hearing him sigh in your ear. You stroke him slowly, matching the pace he’s using on your clit, and when two of his fingers enter you, your pace quickens and you moan his name. He matches your rhythm, grunting in your ear, and you both moan when he finds your g-spot. Your grip slightly tightens on his member. You know you won’t need much more time to come, so you both increase the pace a little more. Surprisingly, he’s the first to come, strings of cum landing on your thigh and stomach, quickly wiped away by the water running on your bodies. You smile widely at him and stop your movements when he scrunches his nose. His fingers are still in your core, thrusting slowly.

“Baby, I’m so sorry, it was all about you...”

“It wasn’t just about me, and I’m always proud to make you come. Babe, it’s fine, really.” You smile again, and he picks up the pace, adding his thumb on your clit before your walls clench around his fingers, and you come with a loud moan of his name. He helps you ride out your orgasm, retracting his fingers only when you grip his wrist as a silent plea to stop before you get overstimulated.

“Do you feel better now?” he asks. You chuckle.

“Much better, thank you. But I’m still tired. Maybe we can order room service instead of going to the restaurant?”

“Sure, love, anything you want.” You blush, and he kisses you again before you both wash each other’s bodies. Then, you unpack your luggage as quickly as possible, yawning every minute. Thankfully, room service is efficient, and you’re soon eating rice and vegetables—the only dish you can eat when you’re too tired. While Kento is in the bathroom, you put on your pajamas. This time, you brought light shorts and a tank top to sleep in, instead of just using his t-shirt. You exchange places with him so you can use the bathroom to pee, brush your teeth, and your hair before coming back to the bedroom. The empty tray is gone, and he’s already waiting for you in bed, scrolling on his phone. You reach for his arms, and he puts his phone on the nightstand. You lean on his torso, your hand slipping under his shirt to rest on his bare waist. His fingers trace patterns on your arm, following the designs inked there, and you sigh softly.

“I think I’ll fall asleep in a few minutes. What do we do tomorrow?” He snorts.

“Well, first of all, I didn’t set an alarm, so we can wake up whenever we want.” You chuckle because you know he’ll wake up at dawn. “We have the car, so we can do whatever we want.”

“Going to a private beach, for example?” He kisses your nose.

“Going to a private beach is a good idea. You’ll be able to tan naked.” You playfully pinch his side, and he laughs. “I’m just kidding, baby. I know you brought swimsuits.”

“Yep. Maybe I could try them on tomorrow? I’ll let you choose your favorite.”

“I’ll like that.” You yawn again, and he kisses your forehead. “Alright, baby, go to sleep now.” You rub your eyes and smile tiredly at him before reaching for his lips for a last kiss.

“Good night, Ken. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

____________________

When you wake up, the first thing you feel is that you're alone in bed, which makes you grumpy. With one eye open, you reach for your phone on the nightstand and see it's 8:20 a.m. You grumble before looking at your surroundings. The room is large, with a king-sized bed, two nightstands, a lot of lights, a dressing area, and even a minibar. The only rays of light come from the bay windows, the curtains slightly open. You guess your boyfriend’s out there, probably on the terrace, and you extract yourself from bed to join him. When you open the curtains, you see him raise his eyes from his phone to look at you, a tiny smile on his lips. You barely acknowledge the outside because he’s extending his arm to you, and you sit on his lap, burying your face in his neck. Kento encircles your waist with his arm, waiting for you to speak first, but you just mumble.

“What is it?”

“You weren’t in bed, and it’s early.” You pout.

“I know, but I didn’t want to wake you. You were exhausted.” You just hum, your face still buried in his neck while he caresses your side and strokes your back. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like the dead. I didn’t hear you move or open the windows. You?”

“Slept well, thank you.” He kisses your forehead. “Shall we order breakfast now that you’re fully awake?” You nod before pecking a kiss on his lips and standing up to go back to the bedroom. He lets you use the room phone to order breakfast, and you eat it on the terrace, enjoying the weather—not too hot and not too cold at the same time, which is honestly a nice change from summer in Japan. Then, you go out for a 2-hour walk around the hotel and in the city center of Nadi, taking pictures and eating a traditional dish called kakoda for lunch before heading back to your hotel room.

When you’re digging through the dressing for your swimsuits, you take out the envelope you hid yesterday evening before giving it to your boyfriend, who looks at you with confusion.

“A few weeks ago, you gave me your STD results, so here are mine.” He nods in acknowledgment before you go to the bathroom with your swimsuits. You have four swimsuits for the 10-day vacation and you promised him you’d try them on so he can pick his favorite. The first one is a black-and-white bikini, the second is a blue one-piece swimsuit, the third is a red bikini, and the last one is a dark green bikini. For each swimsuit, you exit the bathroom and whirl in front of Kento so he can see and pick his favorite. He seems to enjoy the show, adjusting himself a few times, and you smirk. He’s sitting on the bed, so you slot between his legs, and he grips your waist.

“So, which one do you prefer?”

“All of them.” You snort.

“You’re not helping.”

“Fine. I like you in red, so wear the red one.” You just nod before kissing him and heading back to the bathroom to put on the red bikini and a sundress while he wears a linen shirt and a pair of shorts, coupled with loafers. You ask the hotel reception for a beach kit (included in the provided services), and you take the passenger seat in the car. You will drive back to the hotel after the beach. Before your arrival in Japan two years ago, you got your international driving license—required if you wanted to drive a car in the country—and Fiji has the same law.

The private beach is amazing and not far from the hotel. There are only a few sunbeds, lots of palm trees, white sand, and light blue ocean water. You drop everything on your assigned sunbed before taking off your dress and diving into the water. Kento, as the mature adult he is, takes his time laying out the towels and putting some sunscreen on his torso and arms before joining you in the water. There are only slight waves, and you bury your body until only your eyes and nose are visible, closing them to enjoy the warm water and the sun on your face. Then, you spend some time lying on your back, floating in the water, relaxing, and enjoying the fact that you’re far away from Japan.

When you finally stand in the water, Kento’s back is turned, so you decide to play a little and jump on his back like a koala on a tree. You hear him chuckle, and he grabs one of your hands to intertwine your fingers.

“Having fun, baby?”

“Yep.”

“Let me face you, at least.” You break your embrace, and he turns around, gripping your ass so you don’t have any choice but to jump and cross your legs around his back. He moves both of you in the water, and you laugh the entire time before he settles and kisses you. The water reaches just above your belly button. There are some people on the beach and in the water, but they’re quite far from you and don’t seem to be Japanese—from what you can see—so you can speak and move freely. One of his hands plays with the string of your bikini top, slightly undoing it, and you scrunch your nose.

“What are you doing?” He hums but doesn’t say anything. Since you have to hold onto his shoulders for balance, you can’t stop him, and he takes advantage of that. The same hand that was on the string of your top slowly travels to one of the triangles covering your breast, tracing the fabric, and you shudder. His eyes are fixed on your chest, and when he pushes one of the triangles to the side, exposing your entire breast, the nipple perking above the water and your piercing glistening, your eyes widen.

“K-Ken, there are people...”

“They won’t see anything. Do you trust me?” He raises his eyes to look at you, and you just nod before he moves both of you even further away from the beach. The water is now right below your breasts, and he does the same thing with the other part of your top, leaving both breasts uncovered. You press your chest against his torso, your face in the crook of his neck, sighing softly.

“Now we’re even.” You raise your head to look at him, confused, before putting two and two together and bursting into laughter. He chuckles before trailing kisses on your neck, his hands stroking your back under the water. You’re still holding onto his shoulders, and when he grips your ass to readjust you around his waist, your core rubs against him, and you whimper.

“Oh, did something happen?” He grins.

“Are you going to tease me again, like in Odawara?”

“I could. Remember what I asked you that time?” You take a few seconds to think before you remember and blush profusely.

“Yes... But not here with people around.” He hums, waiting for you to continue your explanation. “You know they’re really sensitive... I won’t be able to stay silent, and it might take a while.”

“I know.” His hands move to your breasts, cupping them, and you gasp.

“Baby, please...”

“Please what, love? Please continue, or please stop?” Your mind is fuzzy, and his thumbs circling your perky nipples aren’t helping at all. You whimper in the crook of his neck while he continues his assault on your breasts, massaging them and stimulating your nipples. You’re about to answer that you want him to continue, to play with your body until you come in the water, to shove his length in your pussy even though he can’t put on a condom here, but a ball lands near you, and you startle with a tiny scream. He stops his movements and sinks both of you in the water up to your necks. You look at each other for a second before laughing. The ball is near you, and you’re able to grab it with one hand before throwing it to the teenagers, who thank you in English.

“Maybe it’s our cue to stop. I don’t want the police to arrest us for public sex.” Kento doesn’t seem really happy about being interrupted—you’re also frustrated—but he nods before kissing your forehead and adjusting your swim top. When he’s done, you lean into his ear.

“If you can wait until tonight, I’ll have another surprise for you.” You detach yourself from him and start swimming to the shore, smirking to yourself. You dry your hair quickly with a towel and apply sunscreen on your arms before leaning on your sunbed, face down, to enjoy the rays of the sun warming your skin. You undo the strings of your swim top to avoid any sun marks on your back and close your eyes. Kento joins you a few minutes later, and you turn your head to the side to smile at him.

“Took you some time.” He shrugs, and you chuckle.

“Well, I didn’t want to be arrested for public indecency, but it seems you got comfortable?”

“Absolutely. Could you put sunscreen on my back?”

“Sure, love, give me two minutes.”

You nod and close your eyes again until you feel the sunscreen on your back, jolting a little. You hear him chuckle behind you before feeling his big hands splaying the sunscreen across your back, paying attention to your spine tattoo and even adding more to cover the tattoos on your sides. You sigh in contentment and smile when you feel his lips leaving a little kiss on your nape before he settles on his own sunbed.

You’re woken from your nap by Kento calling your name. You open one eye, frowning.

“What is it, babe?”

“You’ve been in the same position for more than an hour, baby. Maybe you should turn?”

“Yes, you’re right, sorry. Could you tie my swim top, please?” He nods and ties your swim top so you can lean on your back and apply sunscreen to your belly, chest, and arms. You slightly turn your head to look at your boyfriend, who’s reading a Japanese book, glasses perched on his nose. You love when he wears his glasses, and you take your time to admire his focused face before he turns the page to continue reading. Your gaze roams his body, enjoying the view of his sculpted torso and abs, his arms and hands, and even his legs are well-defined. You know he goes to the gym at least three times a week—necessary for him since he works in an office—and he eats balanced meals to keep his shape. He closes his book after marking the page, then turns his head to look at you.

“What are you doing?” You shrug.

“Just enjoying the view.” You wink at him, and he snorts.

“Do you want something to drink? To eat?”

“Water is fine, thank you.” He nods and stands from his sunbed before leaning down to kiss you, taking his time to cup your cheek and press his lips against yours. You smile stupidly when he leaves and grab your phone to take pictures of the beach and scroll quickly on Twitter. At the same time, you light a cigarette. You’re reading an article about a new exhibition in Shibuya Hikarie, trying to understand all the kanjis when he comes back, frowning.

“Thanks, babe. What is it?” You crush your cigarette filter before putting it in your pocket ashtray.

“We’ll probably have to leave in a few. The bartender just told me it’s going to rain in less than thirty minutes.”

“I see.” You drink half of the water bottle before standing. “Let’s go then so we won’t be caught by the rain.”

Well, in fact, you get caught by the rain because in just three minutes, it starts pouring while you’re still under it, trying to put your shoes back on before running to the car. You’re both laughing while you’re the one driving back to the hotel, deciding that you will skip the ice cream shop and go there tomorrow.

The rain is still pouring when you exit the shower, but you both decide that you can still go to the restaurant. You choose to eat Miti while Kento eats Kakoda again, and you smile widely when you pay the bill. The restaurant is not as elaborate as the ones he took you to in Japan, but you’re more than happy to be the one paying this time. While he drives back to the hotel, his hand on your thigh, he remembers what you said in the afternoon.

“By the way, what is the surprise?”

“I can’t tell you now.” He snorts.

“Why can’t you?” Your answer is blunt.

“Because we’re not naked yet.”

You feel his fingertips pressing on your thigh and you smirk. Actually, you have two surprises for him tonight—one he will be able to see, and one that’s hidden.

“I can still give you a hint: it was very expensive.”

“That’s not helping at all, but thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” You wink at him, and he snorts before parking the car. In the room, you go straight to the bathroom to remove your makeup, pee, brush your hair, and your teeth before coming back to the bedroom. You rummage through the dresser to find the things you want, and as soon as he exits, you run back to the bathroom while he watches you, incredulous. He’s changed his clothes, now wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, and you slightly open the door. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, not really knowing what to do, and you feel a pang in your stomach. What if you were too bold? What if he doesn’t like it at all? What if he thinks it’s too vulgar? You put on your robe and tighten the knot before exiting the bathroom. You slot yourself between your boyfriend’s legs.

“Erm... There’s something for you under the robe, but I’m not sure...” He looks at you.

“Sure about what?”

“If you’ll like it or not.” He cups your cheek.

“Well, I have to take a look to tell you if I like it or not, right?” You nod, and he stands up. You’re holding your breath when he unties the knot of your robe before taking it off your shoulders. When he sees what you’re wearing, you can see his pupils dilate, and you exhale slowly. He traces your neck and shoulder with his fingertips before reacting.

“Are you trying to kill me, baby?”

“No?”

“Because you know I like when you’re naked for me, but this...” You blush.

You’re wearing a purple peek-a-boo bra with a matching thong, both made of lace. You found this lingerie set online—thank God you didn’t have to ask for it in a Japanese shop—and felt confident trying it for the first time in your apartment. His gaze roams your entire body, taking in your erect nipples above the fabric and your ass, barely covered by the lace of the thong when he makes you turn. Your voice is barely a whisper.

“So, do you like it?”

“Maybe I could show you if I like it or not.”

He leans in to kiss you, and you welcome him, smiling against his lips. His hands explore your body while he plays with your tongue, tracing your spine with his fingertips, toying with the lace of your thong, pressing your chest against his clothed torso. You sigh softly, your hands on his shoulders and neck, enjoying the moment before going for the edges of his t-shirt. He takes it off before going back to your sides, smothering you by caressing them for a moment, and his hands go for your ass, kneading it in his big hands. Your grip on his shoulders tightens.

“Can you feel how much I like this set on you?” He presses on your ass so your front is almost glued to his, and you definitely can feel his hard-on pressed against your lower belly.

“Ye-yes.” His fingers go for your nipples, tweaking and tugging at them, and you whimper.

“I think I’ll leave the set on you tonight; it would be a waste to take it off. What do you think?” Actually, you can’t think at all at the moment—his hands are doing their magic on your breasts, and your whimpers quickly turn into moans while you grip his arms. He plants one kiss on your left nipple, and you shudder.

“You didn’t answer my question, baby.”

“I... oh fuck, Ken... Leave it on.” He hums before his lips latch onto your right nipple, sucking it while his left hand goes for the other. You’re a whimpering mess, tightening your fingers in his hair, and you can feel your orgasm already growing in your belly. He kisses you everywhere, cupping your tits through the fabric and massaging them before his hands guide you to lean on the bed. He leaves a trail of kisses on your belly before reaching your mound. His index finger pulls your thong to the side, and he dives in directly, licking a strip from your hole to your clit, and you whine loudly.

“Ken... Ken, please, I—ah—I want you.” He raises his head to look at you while his index finger goes for your clenching hole. You feel his fingertip grazing your entrance, and you buck your hips.

“Oh, you will have me, baby, don’t worry about that.” In one motion, his index finger enters you, and you arch your back from the bed, whimpering loudly. His pace is fast, and he quickly adds his middle finger, pumping mercilessly into you. You’re writhing under him, moaning and tightening your grip on the sheets, knuckles white. His goal must be to make you come as quickly as possible, and you’re already close.

“Can you—oh God—add another one?”

“Are you sure?” You can feel his hand slow his movements, and you whine.

“Please, baby.” Your moan is high-pitched when you feel the third finger entering you. When he continues his movements inside you, you moan that you love him, that you’re so close, that he’s so good, and he grunts before curling his fingers to find your g-spot, rubbing your clit with his tongue at the same time. The knot in your belly snaps, and you can feel your hole clenching on his fingers while a gush of clear liquid coats his fingers, his chin, your thighs, and the quilt. He helps you through your orgasm, pumping slower until he completely removes his hand from your core. He sits on his knees while you’re panting loudly, trying to recover. He cleans his chin and his hand with a part of the quilt, and you smile weakly at him.

“Let me return the favor.” He shakes his head.

“Seeing you like this, I can’t wait anymore. I’ll just take a condom, okay?”

“You don’t have to; I... got an IUD two weeks ago.” He exhales loudly.

“Baby, you’re spoiling me. First with this set,” he traces the cup of the peek-a-boo bra with his index, and you shiver. “Then, you come all over us,” you blush, “and then you’re telling me that I can go raw?”

“I’ve never had sex without a condom. I don’t know if I’ll like it or not. I’m sorry.” He leans in to kiss you.

“Don’t be. If you don’t like it, tell me, and I’ll put on a condom, okay?” You nod, and he smiles before standing to take off his sweatpants and briefs while you grab the lube from the nightstand. He goes back to his position between your parted legs before readjusting the pillow under your head. You whimper when his tip brushes your clit, and he cups your cheek before coating his length with lube. You watch all of his movements, sighing when you feel his tip grazing your entrance. He grips one of your thighs and pulls your thong to the side once more.

“Are you ready, love?” You nod, smiling softly, before your eyes widen when his dick enters you. He scrunches his nose before reaching for your hand, intertwining your fingers. The feeling is way different than when he wears a condom, and you both exhale loudly when he bottoms out.

“How do you feel, baby?”

“Good, Kento. You can move.” He nods and then thrusts into your core, quickly establishing a rhythm that makes you moan every time you feel him buried to the hilt. His eyes are glued to your body, taking in the sight of your breasts partially covered by the peek-a-boo bra. When he leans in to kiss you, your hands fly to his nape, keeping him in place. Your nipples brush against his torso, and you whine at every thrust. He grunts when he feels your breasts slightly bouncing, and he quickly readjusts so he can reach the clasp of your bra. You can hear him mumbling in your ear, and you moan at his words.

“Need to feel them.”

His hands swiftly unclasp the lingerie and throw it across the bedroom before kissing your entire chest. You arch your back, searching for friction, moaning loudly. His thrusts remain steady, and you feel the coil in your stomach, but it's not enough.

“Ken, more...” He releases your left nipple with a pop while looking at you.

“Do you want me to go harder?” You nod frantically, and he frowns. “I need your words, baby.” He’s still thrusting into you, and you don’t know how you manage to make a proper sentence.

“Please, Kento, I want it harder...” He grunts before sitting on his knees and lifting your legs to place them on his shoulders. As per your request, he thrusts harder, and you cry out. Your hands grip his forearms, and the new angle has him pounding your g-spot with every thrust. You know you won’t need much more before you come. Without saying anything, he seems to understand, and one of his thumbs goes to your clit, rubbing it harshly. You’re so loud that the neighbors will probably complain to the reception, but you don’t care.

“Go ahead, baby, for me.” Your walls clamp around his dick, and you come with a loud moan, another gush of slick coating your thighs, your thong, his member, and the quilt. He places your legs around his waist and leans in to pant in your ear.

“Baby, I’m so close. Where do you want it?” You’re dizzy but still able to answer.

“Inside, please...” He kisses you on the lips and neck before burying himself into you to the hilt, coming with a loud grunt, your name escaping his lips. He thrusts for a moment, filling you up while your hands are on his shoulders, smiling softly. He’s not crushing you, but when he’s done, he sits on his knees before pulling out. You can both see some of his cum slowly dripping from your hole, and you blush, clenching to avoid another stain on the bed.

“Fuck, baby, you were amazing. Is everything alright?” You nod, looking at him.

“Yes, but... it’s leaking.”

“I’ll grab a towel.” He leans in to kiss you, and you grip his forearms, keeping him in place for a moment before releasing your hold on him. When he comes back from the bathroom, he takes his time to clean you, and you sigh softly. You extend your arm so he can join you back in bed, and he kisses your hand before leaning in. You take your place on his torso, gripping his waist and looking at him tenderly.

“Love you, Kento.” He smiles.

“Love you too, baby. How do you feel?”

“Good, I think. But maybe we could still use condoms sometimes? Because when we’re done, it’s not really comfortable...” He kisses your forehead.

“We’ll do whatever you want, love. If you prefer it with a condom, I’ll wear one.” You nod in acknowledgment. You spend a few minutes in bed, him stroking your back while you just look at him from your position on his torso before he speaks again.

“Do you want to shower?”

“Yes, but not alone.” He snorts, and you smirk before heading to the bathroom, taking off your thong in the process and throwing it somewhere in the bedroom — which is already a mess. In the shower, you’re the clingy one, tracing his back and front with your fingertips, pressing your chest against his torso, squeezing his hips before he takes control of the situation. He turns you so you’re facing the wall, and you bend over, your hands on the tiles. He traces your spine tattoo with one finger, and you whimper when he reaches your ass. His big hand rests on one of your cheeks, and he leans in to speak directly in your ear, his hard-on pressed against your butt.

“Tell me what you want.” You slightly turn your head to look at him before answering.

“You... I want you.” He leaves a kiss on your nape before you feel his dick entering you again. He immediately creates a strong pace, pounding into you like he’s in a hurry. Your moans echo in the shower, and he leans in again to raise your body, your back flush against his chest. You can’t help yourself.

“Oooh, fuck, just like that!” You feel his lips against your neck, sucking on the skin, and when one of his fingers goes to your clit, you feel your walls squeezing his cock. The moan you let out is almost guttural, and you hear Kento grunting in your ear as you come. His hands go to your waist, and you put your hands back on the tiles while he continues thrusting into your core. You pant from overstimulation, and he pulls out at the last moment to cum on your back.

A lot of kisses, a conventional shower — where you obviously brush your teeth — and a few glasses of water later, you’re in bed with your boyfriend, smiling at nothing in particular. The quilt is now on the floor, your bodies only covered by the white sheet. You’re not wearing pajamas, and neither is he, but you fall asleep like this, spooning, your legs tangled with his and your hands intertwined on your chest.

Chapter Text

________________

The hotel room is a mess, your hair is a mess, and both your bodies are covered in hickeys on various parts—touching your neck is now almost painful. A thin layer of sweat clings to your skin, but you’re still bouncing on your boyfriend’s dick, your hands gripping his thighs for leverage while his own hands rest on your waist, guiding your movements as you ride him.

During the night, you both woke up at the same time, and a not-so-innocent shift of your upper body against his hard-on reignited the sex marathon you started after dinner. He simply lifted your leg and slid his length inside you, not even shifting your spooning position. Your moans filled the room, growing louder as Kento whispered in your ear—telling you he loves you, telling you how tight you are in this position, asking if you’ll come for him, telling you not to hold back. He held your leg up so you could reach your clit, and with one solid thrust and the pressure of your fingers, you clenched around him. Your cries of ecstasy echoed in the massive bedroom, triggering his own release in long spurts inside you. You barely registered him cleaning you up before sleep overtook you.

A few hours later—probably; you didn’t check your phone—you were woken by his hands caressing your sides, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses on your neck, teasing you just enough to make you squirm. And that’s how you found yourself riding him again, per his request, while he watches you lovingly.

His gaze is fixed on you, taking in every detail—the way you bite your lip to muffle your moans (though it’s not really working; after all, you don’t want to wake the entire hotel), the way your tattooed forearms flex as you move with abandon, the way your tits bounce with every motion. But he decides it’s not enough. He needs to hear you.

His hands shift to your ass, and he thrusts upward to meet your movements. You mewl when his tip grazes your g-spot.

“Right there, baby?”

“Oh god, yes!”

He smirks and increases the pace. You lean forward, resting your head in the crook of his neck, moaning his name into his ear. You keep up with his thrusts, but suddenly, you rise up when you feel your orgasm rushing in. Your eyes blur with tears, your body ready to combust. Your nails dig into his forearms, scratching his skin, and then—you break. A loud moan tears from your throat, neither of you caring to stifle it. Through your haze, you barely see him smile before he groans, filling you up as he reaches his own climax.

Your body collapses onto his chest, your head tucked into the crook of his neck as silent tears continue slipping down your cheeks, dripping onto the pillow and his shoulder.

“Baby, what is it? Why are you crying?” He strokes your back, concern lacing his voice.

“I—” sniff “—I don’t know.” You’re sobbing, more confused than anything else.

“Are you in pain? Let me pull out.” He starts to move, but you shake your head.

“Was it... too good?” Oh. He exhales softly, still stroking your back, pressing small kisses against your shoulder, soothing you.

“I think that was it, baby. I can’t say I’m not proud, actually.”

You chuckle. “Of course you are.”

Lifting your head from his shoulder, you meet his gaze with a tiny smile. He cups your cheeks, wiping away the lingering tears, and once you’re ready, you slip out of bed to go to the bathroom. When you return, he’s standing there, waiting for you. He offers to run a bath—together or alone, your choice.

“I need you with me,” you say.

He peppers kisses along your face and neck as the water fills the tub. You giggle in his arms before both of you sink into the warm water, finally relaxing. He sits behind you, one hand resting on your stomach, the other on the edge of the tub. Your left hand rests on his knee, while your right gently covers his on your stomach.

A peaceful silence lingers between you until he finally breaks it.

“Do you want more tattoos?” You turn your head to look at him.

“I… probably, yes? I have a few ideas to complete my arms. Why? Is that a problem?” A tiny smile creeps onto his lips.

“Not at all, love. You can do whatever you want with your body.” You sigh in contentment, smiling softly. “I’m just surprised, though—since you have both your nipples pierced, I would’ve thought you’d have a sternum tattoo. It would suit you.”

His hand moves to the center of your chest, tracing your sternum lightly with his fingertip before returning to your stomach, intertwining your fingers.

“I never thought about it,” you hum, considering his words. You know sternum tattoos can be really painful—you’ve already experienced the sting of ink on certain parts of your arms and sides—but when done right, they look stunning. Fiji is well-known for its tattooing culture, and the idea will probably creep into your mind throughout the holiday.

“What about you, Kento? You could get a tiny one while we’re here. I think I saw a tattoo shop near the beach yesterday.”

He chuckles. “No, I’m good. I prefer admiring them on you.”

A brief pause, then he adds, “By the way, last night, you said my surprises were really expensive?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to take the pill, so my only option was an IUD, and insurance wouldn’t cover the cost. It was around 50,000 yen.” You see his eyes widen slightly. “I’ve learned since moving to Japan that most people prefer condoms because they’re cheaper. But we’re exclusive, and I wanted to try something else.”

He hums in acknowledgment.

“And the lingerie set was around 25,000 yen,” you add, and you both chuckle.

“I see. I assume you don’t want me to pay for it?”

You frown. “Absolutely not. Take them as gifts.”

“Alright.” He presses a short kiss to your lips. “Shall we shower now? Do you feel better?”

“I feel good. We could shower and then grab breakfast in the city center.”

After a quick shower, you dress and head down to the hotel lobby. Just as you’re about to leave, an employee stops you.

“Sir, Miss, the hotel manager has requested to see you.”

You feel Kento’s hand tighten around yours as you exchange a confused glance. The employee leads you to the director’s office, where the manager greets you warmly.

“Please, have a seat.”

Kento doesn’t waste time. “Is there something you need to address? We have plans.”

“Well, Mr. Nanami,” the manager begins carefully, “we understand that you’re here on your honeymoon, but… several guests have complained about, erm… loud noises coming from your room last night and this morning.”

Kento snorts, and your face burns with embarrassment. If the ground could swallow you whole, you’d be grateful. The hotel manager telling you that your moans and cries were loud enough to warrant complaints?

“So, you’re telling me that I’m paying an insane amount of money for a room in this five-star hotel—one that caters almost exclusively to couples and business travelers, given that I haven’t seen many families here despite it being the holiday season—and the rooms aren’t soundproof? What exactly am I paying for?”

You see the director’s eyes widen. You grip your boyfriend’s hand, hoping he’ll ease up, but he continues.

“The company I work for has a business trip planned in two months here in Nadi, and they chose your hotel based on my personal recommendation—as well as recommendations from colleagues. Perhaps I should call a board member and let him know the hotel isn’t up to standard? I doubt it would be good for business if the CEO suddenly canceled the reservation and booked another hotel instead. So, I hope you have a solution that will satisfy everyone.”

A bead of sweat forms on the manager’s forehead, and you are absolutely mortified. You’d even be willing to go celibate for the rest of the trip if it would appease the situation—but you know Kento wouldn’t agree to that.

“Let me check with my receptionists so we can find a solution, sir.”

“Sure.”

The manager exits his office, and you exhale loudly, your face still red as a tomato. Switching to Japanese, just in case the man is nearby, you mutter,

“I’ve never been more embarrassed in my entire life.”

“They’ll find a solution, baby. Don’t worry,” Kento reassures you. “I could even pull a stunt like those famous American celebrities and demand they soundproof the room so we can rest easy. I don’t want you to be silent.”

He looks you straight in the eye, and your own widen. His bluntness is sometimes too much.

“Maybe the neighbors are just jealous…” you suggest, trying to divert the conversation.

“Jealous because we fuck like rabbits and they’re probably sexually frustrated? I like that reasoning, baby.”

You gasp, punching his arm playfully while he chuckles.

“Wait, was that true? About the business trip?”

“Absolutely. Gojo asked for this one because I was coming here before the meeting, and another board member visited two years ago with his wife.”

You hum in acknowledgment and lean your head on his shoulder as he absentmindedly plays with the hem of your sundress. You straighten up when you hear the manager returning.

“I have great news, sir, miss. One of our honeymoon suites will be available for the rest of your stay, and you’ll be able to move in tonight. Of course, it’s a complimentary upgrade, and we sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Perfect. What about our luggage?”

“If it’s already packed, we’ll transfer it as soon as the room is available. If not, our staff can pack for you this afternoon.”

You cut in, “We’ll do it ourselves right now and return tonight.”

“As you wish, miss.”

He extends his hand, shaking both yours and Kento’s before you head back to your room to pack. As you fold your clothes, Kento takes care of packing your toiletries.

“Why couldn’t they just do it for us?” he grumbles.

“Do what?”

“Pack our stuff. We still haven’t eaten breakfast.”

You can hear him pouting, and you snort.

“Do you really want hotel employees handling my underwear?” You turn around, holding up your delicate peek-a-boo bra. “Especially this one?”

He frowns. “You’re right. These are just for me.”

“Exactly. And the room is a mess. It would’ve been way too embarrassing to have them picking up our clothes and—God forbid—our soiled underwear from the floor.”

He hums in agreement and continues packing. Once the room is in an acceptable state and your luggage is ready, you finally leave to grab breakfast.

Both of you order strong coffee—after all, you didn’t get much sleep—and fresh bread before heading to Koroyanitu National Park. You take a long walk, chatting with locals, savoring their delicious meals, watching them dance, and answering their curious questions about you and Kento. You spot rare birds, take plenty of landscape photos, snap selfies with Kento, and even pose for pictures with the locals before buying a few souvenirs.

While talking to a friendly family about your life in Japan, Kento’s phone rings. You notice the slight frown on his face as he checks the caller ID. Raising an eyebrow, you watch as he steps away to take the call. Suspicious, but choosing not to comment, you continue your conversation, laughing along with the family.

When Kento returns, he thanks them warmly before taking your hand and leading you back toward the car. As you walk, fingers intertwined, he finally speaks up.

“That call was from one of the firm’s publicists.”

You hum, prompting him to continue.

“There are going to be pictures of us in a Japanese magazine.”

You stop dead in your tracks.

“What the fuck? Pictures from when?”

“At the airport. And yesterday at the beach.”

You gasp.

“Oh my God—when I was topless?”

“I asked Nitta about that, and according to her, nothing compromising is visible.”

“Do you have the pictures?”

He nods and hands you his phone. You scroll through them quickly. There are shots of your backs at Narita Airport’s lounge, pictures of you both boarding the plane, and then photos from the beach yesterday—when you were on Kento’s back in the sea, when you kissed, when he was caressing your breasts—thankfully, those are blurry—when you were napping on your sunbed while he read next to you, when he kissed you before heading for water, and even you smoking on your sunbed. You and Kento are clearly recognizable. You can’t believe you didn’t notice anyone taking these, but that’s not the issue right now.

“What does the firm do in situations like this? I assume this isn’t your first time dealing with it?” You hand him back his phone, and he takes your hand again.

“The firm’s lawyers sue the magazine. We usually win. Nitta asked if she should start the legal process immediately, but I wanted to check with you first.”

You exhale loudly.

“So basically, we sue them in hopes of what? The removal of the photos? Public apologies? An insane payout?”

“If you want to sue for all of those, you can.”

“I don’t even have a lawyer. Fuck. I don’t get it—you’re not famous, right? Does this mean every time we go out, we have to watch for paparazzi?”

You feel anxiety creeping in, your breathing becoming uneven. You take deep breaths, trying to prevent a full-blown panic attack. Kento immediately opens his arms, pulling you close, his voice calm and reassuring.

“I’m sorry, baby. This shouldn’t have happened.” His lips brush your temple. “I’m not famous, thankfully, but after the whole Mei/Gojo Sr. affair, some media took an interest in me. You’re my first public relationship since then, and I never thought they’d go this far.”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, and he cups your cheek gently.

“The firm’s lawyers will handle this. Higuruma will take the case and defend both of us. We’ll call him as soon as we’re back at the hotel. The firm will likely sue the magazine for invasion of privacy, so you don’t have to worry about paying for a lawyer—he’s already covered by the firm.”

You nod slowly before he leans in, kissing you softly, grounding you.

"I think I need a smoke."

He chuckles and leads you back to the car. As predicted, you light a cigarette while quickly texting Ino and your family to update them on what happened. Thankfully, your family won’t have access to the Japanese magazine.

When you return to the hotel, Kento explains the situation to the receptionists, who assure him that no paparazzi will be allowed near the premises. They then hand you your new room keys. The room is spectacular, but you’re too anxious to appreciate it. Kento wastes no time—barely a moment after you settle on the massive couch, he’s already on the phone with Higuruma, the lawyer. Thanks to Nitta, he’s already aware of the situation and assures you that he will begin the legal procedure immediately. Since the pictures are about to be published, he can file the case right after the call.

"What do you want from them once they lose the lawsuit?"

You glance at Kento, unsure, and he explains further.

"How much do you want in damages, and what do you want them to do with the photos?"

"Oh... I want the photos erased. That’s no one’s business. But the money? I... don’t know?"

Your boyfriend cuts in before you can overthink it.

"Higuruma, the same as last time I sued them. I think it was around 800,000 yen?"

Your eyes widen.

"What?"

"Sure, no problem," Higuruma responds. "To recap: You’re both suing them for invasion of privacy. You want 800,000 yen in damages, and you want the photos erased. Correct?"

You both confirm, though you’re still shocked by the amount. Kento and Higuruma talk a few more minutes before the call ends.

"That’s an insane amount of money," you murmur.

He chuckles. "Last time Gojo sued a magazine, he won two million yen."

Your jaw drops.

"Why did he sue them?"

"Because they took pictures of him having tea with his mother and Geto. HR actually keeps a list of who’s won the most lawsuits against these magazines. Gojo is number one."

You snort.

"No one takes this lightly," Kento continues. "That’s why we have multiple lawyers and publicists. Let me call Nitta so she can release a statement, and then we’ll try the jacuzzi, okay?"

You nod. Nitta’s voice is surprisingly calming, and you feel a little better as she speaks to both of you.

"I’ll have the statement ready before 5:00 PM today. Should I sign it under the firm’s name or your personal names?"

"The firm’s name will be fine, Nitta. Just a heads-up, we’re in a different time zone, so we won’t be available until tomorrow morning."

"Understood, Nanami-san. I think we have everything we need. Enjoy your vacation. You too, Miss."

"Thank you, Nitta-san."

She hangs up, and Kento stands.

"Feeling better, love?"

"I think so."

"Then let’s try the jacuzzi."

The jacuzzi is on the massive balcony, and a chilled bottle of champagne with two glasses is waiting for you. While Kento pours the champagne, you quickly remove your sundress and slip into your two-piece bikini. You adjust the bubble intensity to the first level before stepping into the steaming water, sighing in contentment as he undresses to join you.

You clink glasses.

"To the money we’ll win in a few weeks." You chuckle before taking a sip.

"I don’t even know what I’m going to buy with it. Maybe I could pay a few months of rent in one go... or buy new heels."

He hums. "Or new sets of lingerie."

You snort. "Yeah, that too. I saw a really nice blue one last week—with a garter belt. I’ve never worn one before..."

You can feel his gaze lingering as he drinks his champagne. You smirk before finishing your glass.

"I could buy it for you," he murmurs. "Or something else." When he’s done with his own glass, he invites you to come closer and you straddle him, cupping his face.

"Something else?"

"Like a toy for when I’m on business trips."

You blush. His hands rest on your lower back, unmoving. Your bodies sway lightly with the jacuzzi bubbles.

"Do you already have one?"

You nod. You own a Womanizer, but ever since you started dating Kento, you’ve only used it once or twice.

"I could buy you another one, then."

"If you want."

You kiss him slowly, fingers threading through his hair before leaving a tiny hickey just below his left ear. He sighs softly, encouraging you to press a few more along his neck. After all, you’re on vacation, and they’ll fade before he returns to work. His fingers trace slow patterns down your spine.

"I still can’t believe we almost got kicked out of this hotel," you murmur against his skin.

He chuckles. "Well, it’s their fault for not soundproofing their rooms properly."

You nod. "And the honeymoon suite upgrade is nice, I have to admit."

"Exactly. Even if we’re not on our honeymoon..."

"We could come back for our honeymoon," he suggests casually.

You blush. "Or we could go somewhere else—like Seychelles, French Polynesia, Italy, Costa Rica..."

His grip on your waist tightens, and his gaze locks onto yours.

"Does that mean you’d marry me?" Your breath catches.

"Are you proposing to me? Half-naked in a jacuzzi after we just called a lawyer to sue a magazine?" You both chuckle.

"It’s too soon for that," he admits. "And I think you agree." You nod.

"But in the future, yes," he adds softly. "I would propose to you."

Your eyes widen. You knew your relationship was serious—exclusive—but hearing him say it so plainly, like he’s already decided? Your heart stutters. Even in your wildest dreams, you never thought he’d go that far.

“We don’t even live together yet. How do you know I won’t turn into a monster after marriage?” He snorts.

“You could move in with me after the holidays.”

Your hands rest on his shoulders. “What?”

“Baby, think about it. Maybe my place is farther from your work than your current apartment, but you wouldn’t have to lug a suitcase every time you stay over. You wouldn’t have to pay rent since I own my apartment, no cleaning because I have a housekeeper—and yes, I’ll let you pay for food and water if that makes you happy. Besides, I like the idea of us living together. It was nice having you at my place for more than 12 consecutive hours before the holidays.”

He cups your cheek, and you lean into his touch. It’s a lot to take in. Scary, even. But also comforting—because he loves you enough to ask you to move in with him after just a few months of dating.

“Maybe I went too far? I don’t want to scare you, love.”

You offer a timid smile. “No, I... I like the idea too, really. But what if it doesn’t work? I won’t have a backup plan, and finding an apartment in Tokyo is so difficult these days.”

“You mentioned earlier that you could use the money from the lawsuit to pay a few months’ rent. That’s actually a smart idea. You could pay three months in advance and stay with me. If it works out, you can leave your apartment permanently. What do you think?”

“It’s a good idea, yeah. Do I have to decide right now?”

He chuckles. “No, baby. Take your time. A day, a week, a month—whenever you’re ready. My offer will always stand.”

You kiss him softly, feeling him smile against your lips.

“Thank you, Kento.”

He hums in response, his hands roaming your back as you sigh in contentment. Your bodies sway gently in the bubbling water, and you relax into his touch as he massages your back and shoulders. He smirks when you shift slightly, adjusting yourself in his lap, and takes note of the way your nipples pebble beneath your swimsuit. One of his hands moves to your sternum.

“Are you cold?”

You frown slightly. “I’m not? The water feels really nice. Are you? Do you want to get out?”

His smirk deepens. “Not at all.”

Just like the day before, his fingers trace the fabric of your bikini top before pushing it aside, exposing your breast.

“Seeing this, I thought you were cold.”

You blush. “You know I’m not—”

Before you can finish, his hand moves to the other, giving it the same treatment. Both of you glance down at your exposed chest, nipples hardening in the warm water. You gasp when he cups your breasts, his large palms engulfing them.

“They fit perfectly in my hands,” he murmurs. “I think I’ll take this off. What do you think?”

You nod timidly. His fingers ghost over your back, easily undoing the ties of your top. You rest your arms on his shoulders as he slips it off, letting it float behind you. He massages your back again, his touch feather-light, nearly lost in the motion of the water.

You close your eyes, enjoying the sensation. You know where this is going, because he’s obsessed with your breasts. Actually, he’s obsessed with you, but you’re fairly certain your chest is his favorite part of you. Maybe it’s the piercings, or maybe it’s the way they fit so perfectly in his hands. Either way, he always pays attention to them first, and that’s exactly what he’s doing now.

Your nails graze his skin when his thumbs circle your areolas, purposefully avoiding your nipples. You whimper, shifting against him, feeling the heat of his growing arousal beneath his swim trunks.

“Please—”

He raises an eyebrow. “Please what, love?”

His hands squeeze gently, teasing you, and a soft mewl escapes your lips as you squirm under his touch.

“Touch me, Kento. Please...”

He hums but doesn’t comply, continuing his slow ministrations. You grind against him in frustration, seeking friction, feeling the pleasure coil in your belly. His lips brush against yours, and when his fingers finally tug at your nipples, you moan.

“Yes—”

“Like that, baby? Is this what you need?”

Your eyes flutter open, meeting his gaze. You nod, then kiss him as he plays with your breasts—cupping, rolling your nipples, circling your areolas—sending waves of pleasure through your body. The bubbling water obscures your vision, intensifying the sensations. You keep grinding against him, feeling the hardness of his length pressed against your clothed core. You whimper when he speaks again.

“I just want to make you feel good, love. You deserve it.”

The knot in your stomach tightens. You’re surprised at how close you are when he hasn’t even touched your clit. Your nails dig into his nape as you chase your high, pressing your chest into his hands, searching for more. You’re desperate for stimulation, your nipples nearly overstimulated, pleasure and pain mingling into something intoxicating.

Your moans grow louder, and you barely register that you’re outside, that people might hear you—just like last night. You kiss him, trying to muffle the sounds spilling from your lips, and he smirks against your mouth, seeing right through you.

In response, he tugs a little harder at your nipples.

“Kento, I think I’m—”

“Let go, baby. I want to see you come.”

The overstimulation sends shockwaves through your core, and when his thumbs graze over your piercings, cupping your breasts firmly, the tension snaps. You moan loudly, head thrown back as pleasure crashes over you. His hands keep moving, helping you ride out your orgasm, until the intensity fades into soft panting.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, the sensations overwhelming, and when you start to come down, his hands slide to your sides, soothing you. You cup his cheeks, pressing a slow kiss to his lips before he speaks.

“Told you you could.”

You blush, and he smirks.

“You did so good, baby. Are you okay?”

You nod.

“It’s so sensitive…”

“Does it hurt?”

“I don’t think so. I think the water helped.” He hums.

“I’ll buy some massage oil for next time.” You nod in approval before leaving a peck on his lips.

“I want to make you feel good too, babe. Can we go back to the room?” He raises an eyebrow.

“And how would you do that?”

You pause before standing, holding onto his shoulders because your legs are a little wobbly. He looks up at you from beneath, watching your piercings glisten under the sunlight.

“Well, you didn’t use your mouth on me, but I could use mine on you. And I can’t do that underwater.”

“So, you’re telling me you’re not a mermaid?”

You laugh. “I’m not, sorry to disappoint.”

“You would be a hot mermaid, you know.”

You blush and cup his cheek while his hand rests on your ass, massaging it for a few seconds before he lets go. As you exit the jacuzzi, you reply,

“You’d look hot too, with a trident in your hand and a fishnet around your waist.”

He erupts into laughter and steps out of the jacuzzi, taking the towel from your hands to dry you off, leaving tiny kisses on your nipples. You shudder. You try to dry him, too, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, your hand slips under his swim trunks, reaching for his shaft, stroking him slowly while looking him in the eye. He lets out soft sighs, tosses the towel aside, and undoes the knot on yours. Your other hand moves to his face, tracing his bottom lip with your thumb as you speak.

“C’mon, babe. We have to inaugurate the honeymoon suite, right?”

He looks at you intensely before grabbing your thighs. You have no choice but to jump into his arms, giggling, as he carries you to the bedroom.

You inaugurate the honeymoon suite—first, by giving him a blowjob while he’s seated on the bed and you’re on your knees on the floor. Then, in the living room, where he eats you out on one of the couches. And finally, after ordering and eating food from room service, he makes love to you on the king-sized bed, thrusting slowly to watch every reaction. After a shower, you almost fall asleep, and he has to carry you back to bed.

The rest of the trip goes perfectly. You continue sightseeing, meet locals, eat delicious food, and visit the beach—where you both take extra time to scan for anyone with a camera or phone. When it’s finally time to leave for Japan, you’re on the verge of tears. You don’t know if you’ll ever return, but the trip was almost perfect, and you don’t want it to end.

Back in Tokyo, you move some of your most important possessions and work supplies into his apartment. He buys you a desk and chair, identical to his, and clears space in his office so you can work from home when needed.

A few weeks later, while you're both at work, you receive a call from an unknown number. You're on break, smoking with a colleague, and answer when the caller asks for you by name.

“It’s her. Who’s asking?”

“It’s Higuruma Hiromi, Miss. Your lawyer.”

“Right! Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I think you’ll be happy to know you won the case against the magazine. The money will be transferred into Nanami’s and your bank accounts in a few days.”

You gasp. “How—how much?”

“The amount you requested, Miss. 800,000 yen. Each.”

You cough. “Each? Wasn’t it 800,000 yen for both of us?”

He chuckles. “We never said that. Anyway, if you need anything, you now have my number.”

“S-sure. Thank you, Higuruma-san. I’m really grateful.”

“No problem, Miss. Have a nice day.”

“You too, Higuruma-san.”

You end the call and look at your colleague, who watches you curiously.

“Did you do business with the yakuza? You know how dangerous that is.”

You frown and crush your cigarette in the ashtray. “What?”

“That’s an insane amount of money. What did you do?”

You sigh. “I sued a magazine during the holidays. Some shitty paparazzi took pictures of my boyfriend and me during our trip to Fiji.”

Her eyes widen, and you explain everything. By the end, she nods and whistles.

“So, your boyfriend is kinda famous.”

You shake your head.

“Whatever. What will you do with the money? More holidays?”

“There are a few things I have to pay for—taxes, rent, work supplies.”

She nods and starts adding things to your list. Together, you laugh at the extravagant ideas she comes up with before you have to return to class.

Later, when you enter Kento’s apartment, it’s empty. He has meetings today and won’t be back before 9:00 p.m., so you order food and wait. When the bell rings only ten minutes after you placed the order, you’re suspicious—it can’t be that fast. The delivery man hands you a box and a massive bouquet of flowers—mostly peonies and roses and you thank him warmly. After putting the bouquet in water, you open the box and blush profusely. Inside is a purple bullet vibrator, one of the models you showed Kento last week, designed for both of you to use together.

You read the instructions, inspecting the vibrator from all angles, then tuck it back into its box before noticing a card nestled between the flowers. Chuckling, you read his message:

Told you we would win.

P.S.: This won’t be the only gift I give you this week.

You smirk. “Seems like I’ll have to buy that garter belt after all.” You say it to yourself, laughing softly, before the doorbell rings again. This time, it’s your food.

Chapter Text

_____________

Nanami is at a meeting with the board, trying to gather as much information as possible to use throughout the month. He’s about to get a seat on the board, and he’s not thrilled about it for several reasons. First, it means working overtime some days, and everyone in the firm knows he hates that. His schedule is tight: work from 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM, grab dinner or make a quick supermarket run, then head home to you. You usually arrive after him—unless one of your classes is canceled or you’re already at his apartment, like on Monday afternoons or Thursdays when you don’t work. Second, he wants to be home when you arrive after a full day of teaching and an hour-long commute on the Tokyo subway.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he sighs. Half-listening to Nitta drone on about the Fiji business trip, he pulls out his phone and checks the notification. The sender is you—"baby 💜"—because, of course, you changed your contact name on his phone. He hadn’t commented on it, just hummed, but you’d caught the small smile on his face when he first saw it.

From: baby 💜
4:23 PM
hope you don’t mind, see you tonight 💙
Attached: 1 picture

Everyone is still focused on Nitta’s speech about hotel activities. Since Nanami has already done them all—with you—he takes the opportunity to open your message. You’d told him earlier that your last class was canceled, so he knows you’re already at his place. Did you make dinner? Borrow one of his shirts? Are you working in his office, sitting in his chair, even though he bought you one?

The moment he opens the picture, he really hopes no one is looking over his shoulder. His eyes widen, and he quickly locks his phone, glancing left and right before unlocking it again. You’re sitting on the rug in your shared bedroom, facing the full-length mirror near the dressing area. You’re wearing only one of his white dress shirts, your ankles crossed right in front of your crotch. The shirt is open just enough for him to notice the absence of both bra and panties. His trousers suddenly feel a little too tight. Nothing is technically visible—your breasts are hidden by the fabric, your crotch concealed by your ankles—but the smug smile you’re flashing in the mirror is enough to make his pulse spike. He exhales sharply, then snorts before locking his phone again.

When Nanami returns home, he assumes you’re in the kitchen, probably munching on snacks before dinner—a habit you never kicked, even though he dislikes it because it ruins your appetite. Not that it’s your fault you get hungry around 5:30 PM. But to his surprise, you’re not there. The shower isn’t running, and the couch is empty. Frowning, he pushes open the bedroom door and finds you asleep on his side of the bed, curled around his pillow, still wearing his shirt.

His breath catches. The shirt is open, barely covering your chest. You’re not wearing any panties, and once again, his pants feel too tight. But that’s not what really gets him: it’s the purple vibrator he bought a few weeks ago—lazily tossed on the bed beside you.

His jaw clenches. He wastes no time undressing down to his underwear before slipping into bed beside you. He’d neverget under the covers in clothes he wore outside. Pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder, he watches as you stir, pushing the pillow aside.

“Ken... is that you?” Your voice is drowsy, barely above a whisper.

His hand drifts to your belly. “Who else could it be?”

A tiny smile tugs at your lips, and you shift, trying to turn toward him, but he doesn’t let you.

“How was the meeting?”

“Boring... until I got your text.” His fingers lazily trail over your skin, brushing the fabric of his shirt aside just enough to expose one of your breasts. Your nipple perks up from the chill in the room.

You yawn, feigning disinterest. “Did you like it?”

His touch is featherlight, tracing the valley between your breasts. You already know what’s about to happen—he won’t give in easily. You’ll have to beg.

“Can’t you feel it?” His voice is low, his breath warm against your neck. You hum in satisfaction, already feeling his hard-on pressing against your ass. Even through his underwear, it’s obvious.

“I had to lower my phone’s brightness to make sure no one saw,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t wait until the meeting was over?”

“No.” His hand stills on your stomach.

“And why’s that?”

“Because I missed you and wanted you to know.”

He snorts. “Really? My baby missed me?”

You nod, placing your hand over his, trying to move it lower. But he tsks, stopping you.

“Oh no, baby, don’t you dare.” His voice is teasing, but firm. “You’re lucky my colleagues were focused on the meeting. They could’ve seen your picture.”

You smirk. “Admit it, it was soft.”

“Thankfully, it was. Considering what you left on the bed, I’m surprised you weren’t bolder.”

Heat rises to your cheeks as he traces lazy patterns just beneath your breasts.

“I didn’t know if you’d like it...”

His fingers tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. There’s amusement in his eyes, but something darker too.

“Believe me, I would.”

Your smile widens as he leans in, pressing a soft peck to your lips. But when he pulls away too soon, you pout. He only chuckles, shifting so he can slide between your legs. Looking down at him, you smirk.

“I’ll wait for the business trip, then.”

His chin rests on your stomach, his laugh vibrating against your skin. It tickles, and you squirm.

“Please do. I’ll need to decompress after all these meetings with Gojo.”

You chuckle, playing with his hair as he starts kissing a slow path up your belly. “He’s not that bad. Nice, funny, blunt... I’m surprised you don’t like him.”

“He’s childish and difficult most of the time.” Nanami presses a kiss to your collarbone, then your jaw. His voice drops to a whisper. “Do you really want to talk about Gojo right now?”

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you shake your head. “No.”

“That’s what I thought.”

His lips brush over your cheek, then finally—finally—meet yours. You sigh into his mouth, deepening the kiss. You’ve been practically inseparable for almost two months now. A few days after the holidays in Fiji, you started moving things into his apartment, only going back to yours when you had late meetings with parents or administration. After summer break, that happened at least twice a week. This will be the first time you’ve been apart for more than a day and a night. You already miss him when he’s not with you. Pulling him closer, you tangle your fingers in his hair, rolling your hips just enough to make him groan. He presses you deeper into the mattress, hands framing your face.

When he breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, your voice is breathless.

“Ken, will you make me feel good?”

“Didn’t you use your toy for that?” He smirks at you, and you blush.

“I fell asleep before using it...”

He chuckles. “And what do you want me to do?”

His mouth returns to your neck, sucking at your pulse point, and you whimper.

“Do I—oh—really have to say it out loud?”

He hums. You stay silent, too embarrassed to answer, but he’s not having it. Kento pulls away from your neck, sitting back on his knees between your legs. He watches you as he slowly pushes aside his dress shirt, exposing your perky breasts to his appraising gaze.

“I won’t do anything unless you ask for it. Or…” He smirks. “I could leave you like this. On your own with only a toy to relieve the pressure, while my fingers, mouth, and cock stay in the living room, doing something else.”

You groan as his fingers trail from your collarbones down to your sternum, purposefully avoiding your aching breasts.

“Fine... Can you eat me out?”

He raises an eyebrow, and you blush even harder.

“You don’t want me to take care of these first?” While speaking, he cups one of your breasts, his thumb swiping over your nipple. You whine.

“Yeah, that too...”

“And after I eat you out, what should I do?” His other hand finds your other breast, kneading it slowly.

“I… You should fuck me.”

He snickers. “I probably should, yeah.”

He leans in to kiss you, and you moan into his mouth, a mix of pleasure and embarrassment burning through you. He knows exactly how flustered you get when you have to voice what you want. His hands continue kneading your breasts, thumbs teasing your nipples, and you’re already leaving scratches on his shoulders. His mouth trails lower, latching onto one of your pierced buds, and you whimper, arching into him. You already know he won’t give in easily. He’ll make you beg.

You squirm as he teases your breasts, alternating between rolling your nipples between his fingers and sucking them gently. He takes his time, switching from one to the other, until the pleasure coils low in your belly. When his lips leave a trail of kisses down your stomach, you buck your hips instinctively, and he smirks before spreading your lips with his fingers, exposing your clit.

He starts slowly, flicking it with his tongue while two fingers probe at your entrance, teasing. You pant, mewling softly, pleading for him to push them in. When he finally does, moving them in strong thrusts, your whimpers turn into explicit moans. His mouth stays on your clit, sucking it gently as your fingers tangle in his hair, your other hand gripping the sheets for dear life.

Just as you’re on the verge, he suddenly stills, pulling his mouth away. You whine in frustration and open your eyes, only to see him sitting back on his knees, his fingers still thrusting into you—but now, he’s holding the vibrator in his other hand.

“As much as I love eating you out, I’d like to see how you handle this. Could be interesting, don’t you think?”

You blush and nod. He turns the vibrator on, trailing it teasingly over your breasts before pressing it directly onto your clit. The vibrations make you jolt, a loud moan escaping your lips. His fingers thrust into you more sharply now, the dual sensation making your knuckles turn white as you clutch the sheets.

Kento smirks, watching you fall apart. Your hair is splayed across the pillow, a thin layer of sweat covering your body, and when he shifts the vibrator just slightly, dragging it in an up-and-down motion, you can’t hold back.

“Gonna cum—”

You barely finish the sentence before the knot in your stomach snaps, a gush of clear liquid soaking his hand, the vibrator, and the sheets. Your cry is loud enough to alarm the entire building. Your body shakes, overstimulated, as you bury your head in the pillow, whining. Kento chuckles, withdrawing his fingers and turning off the vibrator. He gives you a moment to breathe, wiping his hand on the sheets before cupping your cheek tenderly.

“That was worth the wait.”

He chuckles “I’m sure it was. Do you want more?”

You push yourself up on one elbow.

“Wanna make you feel good too, babe.”

He traces your bottom lip with his thumb before slipping it into your mouth. You suck on it, twirling your tongue around it while maintaining eye contact. He groans, and you smirk before switching positions.

You pull down his underwear—already stained with precum—and waste no time. Placing a light kiss on his tip, your hand wraps around his base, stroking him as your tongue flicks across his length. He grunts, murmuring praise, and you continue your ministrations, encouraged.

After teasing him for a bit, you finally take him almost entirely into your mouth, stroking what won’t fit with your hand. His fingers tighten in your hair as you bob your head, alternating between licking and sucking, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue. His grip on your hair and hand tightens, his breath becoming ragged. He’s close. Your hand moves from his base to his balls, massaging them gently while your tongue works his shaft. He warns you between heavy breaths and moans.

“Baby, pull out—I’m close…”

But you don’t. Instead, you hollow your cheeks, making your mouth tighter. He groans, his head tilting back, and moments later, you feel his release spill into your mouth. You let him ride out his orgasm before swallowing everything. His hand moves from your hair to cup your cheek as you clean him up, licking him softly before sitting up on your knees with a satisfied smile.

He adjusts himself, leaning back against the pillows to get a better view of you. His thumb swipes away a bead of cum from the corner of your lips, and you lick it before slipping off the shirt you’re still wearing. Straddling him, you rest your hands on his torso, his hands immediately finding your waist.

“You did good, baby.”

You chuckle. “I’m happy you liked it.”

His gaze darkens as you grind your slick-covered folds over his cock, teasing him. He watches hungrily as you take his hands, guiding them to your breasts. His thumbs brush over your nipples, grazing your piercings, and you whimper.

“A-are you going to fuck me now?”

He smirks. “I don’t know. Do you want it?”

You nod frantically, and he chuckles before gripping your waist and flipping you onto your back. You kiss urgently, desperate, seeking friction. He teases your tongue with his own before pulling away, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“On all fours, baby.”

You obey, positioning yourself as he opens the nightstand and grabs the bottle of lube. Settling behind you, he trails a hand down your spine, admiring the way your tattoo curves along your back. You shiver when his other hand strokes his cock, spreading lube over his length.

Then, you feel the head of his cock brush against your folds—just barely—teasing you.

"Ken, please..."

“What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

You blush. He’s teasing you, knowing how easily you get flustered about explicit things. His hand traces down your spine before landing on your ass, groping firmly. You whimper.

“Shit... Put it in, please.”

“What should I put in?”

You frown. “Fuck, are you trying to kill me from embarrassment?”

He leans in, whispering against your ear. “No, I just want you to tell me what you really want.” He presses a tiny kiss just under your ear, sending a shudder through you.

Frustrated and desperate, you turn your head slightly, one hand sliding down to spread yourself open.

“Fine... Kento, fuck me with your big cock. Please, I need it...”

His eyes darken as he watches you, his chest rising with a grunt before he finally pushes into you. His thick length enters slowly, giving you time to adjust. The stretch burns just right, and you both exhale loudly when he bottoms out. You’re not wrong—he’s big and thankfully, he never skips foreplay. He gives you a few seconds before starting to move, and you’re already whimpering for more. Nanami leans forward, pressing his torso against your back, and you turn your head to catch his lips before his hand settles between your shoulders, pressing you down into the mattress. The new angle has him hitting your g-spot perfectly, and you realize you won’t last long.

And you don’t. After a few more thrusts, pleasure snaps through you. Your walls clamp down hard, and you barely have time to warn him before your orgasm rips through you, your moans muffled by the pillow. Nanami stills, groaning as you grip him like a vice. He watches as you shakily lift yourself onto your forearms, glossy-eyed and dazed.

“More...”

He chuckles. “Your wish is my command, baby.”

His thrusts resume—sharper this time. He’s relentless, dragging pleasure from you with every deep stroke. You lean forward again, and one of his hands grips your ass, spreading you apart so he can watch himself disappear inside you. His thumb drifts slightly near your puckered hole, and you clench involuntarily around him.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Want me to play with this one too?”

Your mind is dizzy, struggling to process his words. When you glance back, you see his hand resting on your ass, and your cheeks flush hot. He keeps thrusting, his pace unyielding, his touch firm yet teasing. Between your moans, you register his voice again.

“I think you’ll like it, baby. Will you let me try?” 

You know he needs a verbal answer—he won’t do anything without it. And you definitely don’t want him to stop.

“Ye-yes, you can try...”

A kiss lands on your spine, and his pace slows as he reaches for the bottle of lube on the bed. He dribbles a few drops onto his fingers before resuming his thrusts, feeling your walls clench around him. His hand spreads you open again, and his thumb circles your untouched hole, slicking it with lube. Your sharp inhale turns into a breathy moan—a mix of surprise and... lust? You clench around him instinctively, and Nanami groans.

“That’s it, baby. Do you like that?”

You can only moan in response, nodding shakily. To your surprise, you kind of do like it. Your brain is melting from all the sensations—his cock filling you, his thumb teasing you, the pleasure pooling deep in your stomach.

Nanami leans down to kiss you, the kiss messy and desperate as his hips snap forward with purpose.

“I’m not gonna last—fuck—play with your clit, baby. Please.”

Your knuckles turn white against the sheets, but you manage to reach for the vibrator, switching it to the second setting before pressing it against your clit. The moment the vibrations hit, your body jolts. Your moan is so loud that Nanami groans in response, his thrusts turning rougher.

Then, his lubricated thumb presses inside you—just barely. It’s just his thumb, but you feel full, the new sensation strange at first but not unwelcome. He doesn’t push in all the way, just enough to stretch you slightly, but it’s enough to send fire through your veins. The pressure, combined with the relentless thrusts inside your pussy and the vibrator against your clit, makes the knot in your stomach tighten painfully. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It’s too much.

“Ken, ‘m gonna cum—oh—but...”

“I know, baby. Make a mess, that’s fine.”

That’s all it takes. His cock pounding into you, his thumb stretching you, the vibrator sending shocks through your clit—everything collides at once, and you break. Pleasure crashes over you, your entire body seizing as you cry out. Slick gushes from you, soaking his cock, his thighs, his lower belly—leaving a puddle beneath you. The intensity of it leaves you gasping, trembling. Nanami curses, his movements stuttering. Your orgasm triggers his, and with a deep groan, he spills inside you, his hips still rocking lazily. You whimper at the sensation of his hot release filling you, your dazed gaze locking onto his. He kisses you deeply, unable to stop himself.

When he finally pulls out, his thumb slides free too, and your exhausted body slumps against the bed. Nanami follows, wrapping his arms around you tightly, his sweaty body pressing into yours. Neither of you care. You groggily reach out to turn off the vibrator, and he chuckles.

“I think that was a good purchase.”

You snort. “It is. I think I’ve never cum so hard in my life.”

He hugs you tighter, making you laugh. “I changed the sheets yesterday...”

“We’ll change them later. Just relax, baby.”

You nod, absentmindedly tracing patterns on his arm as his fingers stroke lazily over your back. Silence settles between you, comfortable and warm, until he finally speaks again.

“We have to go to the airport right after work tomorrow. I don’t know if you’ll be able to come before my flight?”

You shake your head. “I have a meeting from 4:00 to 6:00. I can’t make it.”

You sigh, disappointed. He’s leaving for almost ten days, and your boss had planned this meeting weeks ago—one you can’t skip.

“That’s fine, don’t worry.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I wanted to be there... I don’t know how I’ll manage these next few days. Ino and Todo won’t be here either—it’s going to be so boring.”

He smirks. “Are you saying you’re going to miss me?”

“Of course.”

He lifts your chin, kissing you softly. “If it makes you feel better, I’m going to miss you too, love.” You smile weakly at him.

“What I said about pictures earlier still stands, by the way,” he adds with a smirk. “We could even do some video calls... if you want.”

You snort. “We’ll see about that. We have work, after all.”

He hums.

“Shall we shower? I feel sweaty.”

"With what we did, it’s not surprising. I think I should buy you a new toy, baby." You blush profusely.

“No one’s ever touched you there?” You shake your head.

“I’m your first, then? I’m flattered.”

“It won’t happen every time...”

“Why? You didn’t like it?”

You shake your head quickly. “No, I liked it, but... it’s weird.” He hums, thinking.

“I was really horny, and I trust you, so we could try again sometimes—just not every time.”

“Of course, baby. We’ll only do the things you want.” You smile at him, cupping his cheek.

“Alright, let’s shower, and then we’ll order dinner. What do you think?”

“Good idea.”

Under the warm spray of the shower, you both take your time, letting the water cascade over your bodies before washing each other. Your hands explore one another lazily, caressing familiar skin, and it’s you who takes control this time. Your fingers wrap around his growing erection, silently asking for permission. He nods.

You stroke him slowly, savoring the way he shudders under your touch. You kiss under the running water like a scene straight out of a romantic movie, and when he finally spills onto your lower belly, he groans against your lips. He doesn’t let you go without returning the favor, though. His fingers slide between your thighs, skilled and deliberate, curling just right to press against your g-spot. The sensation builds quickly, and soon, you’re moaning into the steam-filled air, your sounds swallowed by the water as pleasure crashes over you.

After ordering dinner, you eat on the couch, laughing about something mundane—only to end up riding him on the same couch minutes later. The sheets are still in the wash, and you haven’t put fresh ones on the bed yet. This time, he comes before you. You don’t mind, smiling as you watch him catch his breath, but Kento isn’t one to leave things unfinished. Determined, he presses his thumb to your clit and wraps his lips around your nipple, still buried deep inside you. He doesn’t stop until you’re trembling, body arching, crying out his name.

Neither of you sleep much that night, taking everything you can before his ten-day business trip. Your alarm blares while he’s still thrusting into you, his gaze locked onto your pleasure-drunken expression. Kento stills only for a second—just long enough to reach over and silence your phone—before resuming his movements. When you both finally reach your highs together, your orgasm is so intense that you’re left sobbing, overwhelmed. He smiles, kissing your damp cheeks before gently wiping away your tears. Then, he cleans you up and pulls you into his arms, holding you close.

You arrive at work utterly exhausted. And sad.

________________

Five days into his business trip, and you’re already over it. You had one video call with Kento three days ago, but you’d both been too tired to do anything except talk about work and his schedule. Now, it’s Monday, and you have a special appointment after work. Sitting in the subway, you glance down at your phone, reading Kento’s latest text:

From: babe 💜
2:58 PM
I won’t be able to video call tonight.

You quickly type a reply.

To: babe 💜
3:05 PM
Don’t worry, that’s fine. I can wait until you come back. I’ll just send you one picture every day, like an Advent Calendar. 😏

Snorting at your own teasing message, you exit the subway and make your way to your destination. The moment you step inside, a woman with a sleek bob greets you warmly.

“Hello, Mai. I have an appointment with Choso today.”

“Sure, let me just review your inquiry.” She scrolls through her iPad before nodding.

“Flower on your sternum, right?” You nod. “I’ll let Choso know you’re here. Have a seat.”

No one knows you’re getting a new tattoo today. Especially not Kento. The idea has been in the back of your mind ever since he mentioned it during your trip to Fiji in August. After returning home, you reached out to the tattoo studio to bring the idea to life. Normally, you go to Yuki for your tattoos, but this time, Choso’s style suited the design better. You already have a few pieces from Yuki—your sides and part of your right arm were inked by her—but this one is different.

When Choso calls your name, you stand and shake his hand.

“Let’s take a look at the drawings I made for you. Let me know if you want any adjustments.”

He hands you his iPad, and the moment your eyes land on one particular design, they widen slightly. A delicate peony, surrounded by an ensemble of leaves and tiny flowers, creating a stunning composition that fits the placement perfectly.

You don’t even bother looking at the other options before pointing at it.

“This one. Could we just remove this leaf?” You point to one that stretches a little too high up your sternum. “Then it’ll be perfect.”

He nods. “What about the size?”

“I think it’s good. I want it right under my breasts—not too high, so it stays hidden even if I wear a low neckline. But you’re the expert.”

He chuckles. “Give me ten minutes. I’ll print a few sizes for you to compare.”

As you wait, you check your phone, and your cheeks warm slightly at Kento’s response.

From: babe 💜
3:30 PM
I can’t wait to open the first one tonight.

He still doesn’t use emojis, but that’s fine. You know he would’ve kissed you right after saying that if he were here. Smirking, you leave him on read, focusing back on your surroundings. The low hum of a tattoo machine buzzes from one of the rooms, filling the space with a familiar, comforting sound. Once you’ve chosen the perfect size with Choso’s guidance, you slip into the restroom to remove your shirt and bra, replacing them with the nipple covers provided by the studio.

Choso carefully places the stencil onto your skin. “Let me know if you want any adjustments.”

You glance down, examining the placement in the mirror. It’s perfect. Just as he’s prepping his machine, Yuki’s voice rings out in the hallway.

“It’s the second time that smartass has been late. I’m going to kick his ass, you hear me, Mai?”

Choso sighs.

“Cho, babe, do you have time before your next appointment to—oh, hey, Boo!”

You turn your head, already smiling as Yuki enters the room.

You’re stuck with that nickname, thanks to Ino. He casually used it the first time you got a tattoo here, telling some random story about how you two met in Shibuya. Since then, no matter how many times you’ve introduced yourself properly, Yuki insists on calling you “Boo”, and you don’t mind. It makes you feel even more at home here.

“It’s been a while!” Yuki grins, looking over the stencil on your sternum. “I see you’ve changed your mind. Not the arms this time?”

You snort. “I’ll finish my arms later, probably in a few months. This idea actually came to me during my trip to Fiji. Well... it wasn’t entirely my idea.”

She raises a brow. “Oh? What does that mean?”

You hesitate for a second before admitting, “My... boyfriend was wondering why I didn’t have a tattoo on my sternum since I have nipple piercings. He said it would suit me.”

Her eyes widen before she shoots a playful wink at Choso, who sighs.

“You’re lucky I don’t have another appointment after Boo, babe. I’ll give you ten minutes.”

She flashes Choso a wide grin, and he sighs, standing up. He peels off his gloves, grabs his phone, and walks off while Yuki takes his seat, turning her attention to you. Sitting up straighter, you feel a little self-conscious about being half-naked in front of her, but she doesn’t seem to care—she’s far more interested in the conversation.

“Alright, there’s a lot to unpack here. Holidays in Fiji? Boyfriend? The idea of a sternum tattoo? I want all the details.”

You chuckle and start explaining—how and when you met Kento, your trip to Fiji, the offhand comment he made about your sternum, and how the idea of the tattoo took root in your mind. You mention that he doesn’t have any tattoos or piercings himself but really likes yours.

“I even tried convincing him to get one while we were in Fiji, but he refused.” You pout dramatically, making Yuki laugh.

“So, that’s why you’re here then? You’re doing this for him?” You shake your head.

“Not entirely. It’s mostly for me. He’s right—it would suit me, and I’ve always thought sternum tattoos were hot. Not many people will even get to see it.”

She chuckles. “So, what’s with the peonies?”

“There were peonies in the first bouquet he sent to my workplace. I really liked them, so... it felt right.”

“I see.” Yuki squeezes your shoulder just as Choso walks back in. “Alright, Boo, I’ll let Cho work his magic. Just don’t hit on him, please.”

You snort as she winks and heads out. Choso settles back into his seat, grabs a fresh mask and gloves, and examines the stencil on your skin.

“The stencil is dry. I just have to prep my machine, and then we’ll get started.”

You nod, lying back down. The hum of music in the background and Choso’s calm demeanor help you relax. As the needle touches your skin, you close your eyes, bracing against the sting. With him working on such a sensitive area, you can’t move much or check your phone—you just have to endure.

After about thirty minutes, Choso pauses.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You exhale. “I forgot to ask—how long will this take?”

“Probably another hour. Maybe a bit more.”

You nod. “I’ll take a break in, like, fifteen minutes?”

“Sure. Let me finish the outline, and we’ll go for a smoke.”

You smile faintly and close your eyes again. You’re almost dozing off when Choso suddenly turns off his machine, grumbling, “Here we go.”

Raising an eyebrow, you tune into the voices outside his station. It doesn’t take long to recognize them—Yuki’s irritated tone is unmistakable, and the low chuckle accompanying it makes you smirk. Choso sighs and starts wrapping your fresh tattoo before helping you slip your shirt and jacket back on. You follow him as he guides you outside, stepping into the crisp evening air. Casual conversation flows easily between you and Choso—until you’re interrupted.

“Choso, you need to knock some sense into your girl. She’s pissed at me over nothing.”

“Or maybe over something you should have done,” Choso replies flatly. Then he turns to you. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

As soon as he walks off, you turn to the newcomer, amusement tugging at your lips.

“Hello, Sukuna.”

“Hello, sugar.” He smirks, patting his pockets for a lighter. You wordlessly hand him yours.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had some things to discuss with Yuki. What about you?” He flicks the lighter, taking a slow drag.

“I was out shopping,” you deadpan. “Obviously, I’m getting a new tattoo, dumbass.”

He snorts. “And here I thought you finally came to visit my new parlor.”

You roll your eyes. “Please. What are you doing here, though? Shouldn’t you be at your fancy new shop?”

“I had business with Yuki.” He exhales a stream of smoke before eyeing you. “But you should stop by sometime. I have ideas for your back.”

You snort. “Let me guess—you like coordinated tattoos and want to put your style all over my back? Not happening.” He frowns slightly as you continue smoking, amused by his persistence.

You met Sukuna about a year and a half ago, during one of your tattoo sessions with Yuki. You’d been in the middle of a particularly painful piece on your side when you asked for a break. While you were outside smoking, Sukuna had joined you—striking up a conversation before casually asking you out. The date had been fun. The night had been even better. But even then, you both knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. You hadn’t been looking for anything serious, and even if you had been, his lifestyle and personality weren’t exactly what you wanted in a long-term partner. You both agreed to keep things light—sometimes teasing each other, sometimes indulging in a casual hookup. It lasted a little while, mostly at nightclubs or private parties, but eventually, it just faded out.

Sukuna exhales smoke through his nose, eyes glinting with amusement.

“I know exactly what your back looks like,” he says smugly. You wrinkle your nose, because unfortunately, he’s right.

“If I’m saying I have ideas, it’s because I know what would work.”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

He hums, watching you closely. Then, he moves directly in front of you, towering over you slightly.

“You seeing someone?”

You tilt your head. “Why?”

“Just wondering if you have plans tonight. We had fun last time.”

You snort, wondering which time he’s referring to. The night at the club where you’d drunkenly grinded on each other? The time you played strip poker until he bent you over the couch? Or the time he drunkenly tried to tattoo his initials onto your ankle at his place?

“I don’t have plans,” you admit. “But I’m not going out with you. I have a boyfriend.”

His frown is instant. “You? A boyfriend?”

“Yep.” You smirk. “You should try it sometime, Sukuna. Settling down with someone is actually pretty nice.”

You flick away your cigarette and slip the filter into your pocket ashtray.

“You’re lying.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not. Ask Yuki—she’ll tell you. The tattoo I’m getting today was actually his idea.”

Sukuna chuckles. “Oh, so you take his ideas but never let me tattoo you?”

You bark out a laugh. “Please. You wanted to put your initials on my body when we weren’t even together. He just suggested a sternum tattoo would look good, and he was right.”

“To match with your piercings?”

You nod, and he smirks. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

You grin. “See? You and him actually agree on something.”

You pat his forearm lightly before hopping down from the low wall you’d been sitting on. “I’ve got to get back. But I’ll consider what you said about my back piece. Maybe I’ll even bring him to the appointment with me.”

“I don’t accept extra visitors.”

You chuckle before standing on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek, just above one of his face tattoos.

“Of course you don’t. Choso’s probably waiting for me. See you, Sukuna.”

“Bye, Sugar.”

When you return, Choso is already putting on a fresh pair of gloves. He helps you take off your jacket and T-shirt before you take a sip of water and lie back down on the tattoo bed, preparing for the shading. As he works on your sternum, your mind drifts. Getting a tattoo from your ex-fling is probably not a great idea, and you have no clue how Kento would react. On top of that, it’s obvious Sukuna still has some lingering interest in you, which could stir up unnecessary drama in your relationship. But the truth is, Sukuna is really good at what he does. He’s always booked, and his work is nothing short of spectacular.

In short: you need to think about it more before making a decision. For now, you focus on the tattoo at hand. You decide not to send a picture to Kento—better to let him see it in person when he gets back from his business trip. That way, it’ll have started healing, and it’ll be a nice surprise. After all, the idea was kind of his, right?

Despite the sting of the needle, your body eventually relaxes, and before you know it, you’re dozing off. You only stir when Choso calls your name softly.

“We’re done. I just need to clean the area, and then you can see it.”

You nod, sitting up when he tells you to. Facing the mirror, you cup your breasts to take in the entire piece, and the sight nearly makes your eyes water. It’s perfect. The design starts just beneath your breasts. Delicate leaves and tiny flowers extend from the middle of each breast, following the natural curve inward. A beautifully shaded peony sits at the center, decorating the lower part of your sternum. It’s exactly what you wanted—not too high, easily hidden under clothes, even with a V-neckline.

You glance at Choso through the mirror, eyes glossy. He gives you a small smile.

“It’ll probably need some touch-ups in a month, but what do you think?”

“I... It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you so much!”

You turn, checking your reflection from different angles. Even from the sides, the fresh ink flows seamlessly with your existing tattoos, harmonizing with your body’s natural lines.

Choso gently cleans the area again before applying a second skin, giving you post-care instructions.

“Keep the second skin on for a few days—it’s waterproof. After that, wash the tattoo with a neutral cleanser. Try not to wear a bra for at least a week, but if you have to, a bralette is your best option. Be careful when you move, and no intense activity.”

He gives you a knowing look at the last part, and you blush.

“In five days... will it be okay?” you ask hesitantly.

He sighs but smirks lightly. “Yeah, I think so. Just be careful.”

You thank him again, eyes still shining with emotion, and he smiles as you head to the reception desk to book a touch-up appointment with Mai. Yuki is busy with a client, so you don’t get a chance to say goodbye, but you’ll see her again in a month.

Back at Kento’s place, you take a bunch of mirror selfies, but instead of sending him a fresh one, you choose an older photo from two days ago. In it, you’re lounging in bed, the white sheet draped just low enough to hint at your piercings if he squints. Your tongue is stuck out playfully.

to: babe 💜
6:45 PM
five days before you come back 💙
Attachment: 1 picture

Chapter Text

__________________

You're almost running away from work to catch the subway. You have exactly two hours to get back to Kento’s place, change clothes, and leave for the airport. Since you need at least 45 minutes to reach Narita Airport by train, you must be quick. But the Tokyo subway doesn’t seem to agree with you—an incident causes a delay, and you end up stuck in the crowded train for an extra 20 minutes. On your way back to his apartment, you decide to change plans and take an Uber instead of the train.

In the Uber, you fidget with your phone. You told your boyfriend you’d be waiting for him at his place with dinner ready, and he believed you. Will he be mad if he sees you at the airport? Should you kiss him in front of his colleagues? You decide to let him take the lead and rest your head against the window, watching the road as the airport draws closer. You missed him so badly that your stomach ached at times—especially after the quick phone calls you had during his work trip.

At the airport, you walk for at least ten minutes before finally reaching the Arrivals area. You check the board and see that the flight from Brisbane has just landed, but the luggage hasn’t been delivered yet. You smile to yourself—you’re not late, and you even have time to find the right arrival hall before they exit immigration.

You know that immediate family and significant others weren’t allowed on the business trip, but you’re still surprised to see a few familiar faces from the Shibuya party. Some of them recognize you and wave—after all, you were the only non-Japanese there, making you easy to remember. You wave back before positioning yourself between two families, absentmindedly checking your phone.

You only look up when you hear murmurs that passengers are arriving. You stand on your tiptoes, trying to see past the crowd, but families rush forward, almost pushing you to the back. It’s only when Todo exclaims your nickname that you finally spot some familiar faces—him and your best friend. You smile widely, hugging Ino and fist-bumping Todo.

“Are you here for us?”

“I don’t want to offend you, but... no.” They erupt into laughter, and you join in.

“Yeah, we get it. He wasn’t far from us, probably talking to Gojo-san.” You nod, and Ino adds,

“I’ll see you on Monday, Boo? I’ll tell you everything about the trip.”

You agree, and he kisses your temple before leaving with Todo. Miwa sees you from afar and waves before accepting a bouquet from her boyfriend. You wave back and wait patiently.

Almost everyone has already left when you finally spot your boyfriend with his luggage, frowning at something Gojo is saying—until Gojo suddenly points at you.

“Nanamin, why would I lie? She’s right there!”

You blush slightly and wave timidly. Kento’s eyes widen before he and the others approach, Geto following behind Gojo. Once again, you find yourself surrounded by men in suits.

“Miss Teacher, it’s been a while!”

“Not my fault you were busy, Satoru. You still owe me some shots.”

They chuckle.

“How was the trip?”

Their responses are wildly different.

“Fine, but the food was... particular. No interesting pastries.” Gojo, obviously.

“Productive. We managed to finalize the deal.” Geto, ever the professional.

“Fine. They made some adjustments to the hotel rooms.” Kento, staring at you intently as he says this, making you blush from head to toe.

“I see. Did you visit Koroyanitu National Park?”

“Yes, we even spoke with some families. It was really fulfilling.”

You nod, smiling—until Gojo interrupts.

“Babe, we should go. I want to see Mahi.”

“Mahi?”

“Our cat.”

“Sure, love. We’ll see you around?”

You and Kento nod as the others leave, finally leaving you alone with your boyfriend, who is still staring at you intently.

“You told me you’d be waiting for me at the apartment.”

“Well… I lied? I wanted to surprise you. Did I do something wrong?”

He cups your cheek, and you lean into his touch, smiling softly.

“No, it’s a really nice surprise.”

He leans in to kiss you, and you welcome him warmly, gripping his waist while both his hands cradle your face. You want to deepen the kiss, but you’re in public, and PDA isn’t common in Japan. Instead, you pull back and hug him tightly, your hands slipping between his shirt and jacket, inhaling his scent. One of his arms wraps around your waist while the other strokes your hair.

“Shall we go, love?”

“Yes. Let me just order the Uber.”

You quickly make the order and walk to the drop-off area, hand intertwined with his, luggage rolling beside him. As you wait, you tell him about the past ten days—even though he already knows most of it—carefully avoiding any mention of the tattoo. He listens attentively, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

In the Uber, he talks about the trip—Gojo being annoying (you chuckle at that), the work meetings, and the places they visited. His words remind you of your own vacations with him, and you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. His hand traces light patterns on your thigh as you both relax, savoring each other’s presence after ten days apart.

“Do you plan on cooking tonight?”

“I thought so. I tried a new recipe a few days ago, and I’d like you to taste it. But if you’d rather order something, I can cook tomorrow.”

He squeezes your thigh.

“That would be preferable, yes.”

His tone is sultry, surprising you—especially since you’re not alone but in an Uber with a Japanese driver. Still, you nod, not offended in the slightest. After all, the recipe takes time, and after a 16-hour flight, ordering dinner is the easier option.

When he leans in and whispers in your ear—in English, his voice low and accented—that there’s something else he’d like to eat before dinner, your face burns. You swat his hand away, mortified. Nanami just chuckles, taking your hand once more.

You pay for the Uber via the app, bow politely to the driver, and step out. At the elevator, Kento follows closely behind. Inside, his hand slides from your waist to your hip, pressing slightly against your trousers. You say nothing, just smiling to yourself.

At the entryway, you kick off your sneakers and remove your jacket while he does the same. Just as you turn to head into the living room, he grips your waist, making you squeak in surprise. He spins you around and leans in for a kiss, which you gladly accept. Your hands find their place at his nape, your nails lightly scratching his skin. He quickly deepens the kiss, his hands tracing slow circles along your lower back, and you whimper softly.

“Missed you, Ken.” He kisses your forehead and looks into your eyes.

“Missed you too, baby. I’m going to take a shower—I’ll leave the door open.” His tone makes it clear what he wants—you to join him—and you nod before heading to the kitchen for a quick drink of water and some fruit snacks.

It’s only when you hear the water running that you make your way to the bedroom, quickly undressing. You take a look at your fresh tattoo—still healing but not as painful as you expected—before opening the bathroom door. Kento is under the water, eyes closed, and you take advantage of the moment by wrapping your arms around him from behind, pressing your chest against his back. You stay like this for a moment, relishing the warmth of his body and the fact that he’s finally home. You hear him sigh despite the sound of the running water.

When he turns around to face you, he cups your cheeks. “Next time, you’ll come with me.”

You frown. “I can’t take holidays whenever I want. They won’t allow it.”

“Then let’s hope the next trip falls during your break.” He smiles softly at you, and you close your eyes when he leans in for another kiss. You grip his waist, standing on your tiptoes to reach him properly. He peppers your face with kisses, making you giggle, his hands roaming over your body before settling on your ass.

It’s only when he steps back to let you stand under the water that he notices something just beneath your breasts. His brows furrow as he tries to get a better look, and you instinctively step back a little, giving him a clearer view.

“Baby, what have you done?”

You smirk. “I thought it was obvious, but maybe you need to wear your glasses at all times?”

He snorts, and you chuckle. “I got it on Monday after work. Do you want to see?”

He nods, and you cup your breasts to reveal the full design—the delicate leaves and tiny flowers stretching under them, with a larger bloom in the center. As he inspects it, you explain.

“You once said you were surprised I didn’t have a sternum tattoo, that it would suit me. I’ve been thinking about it ever since. There were peonies in the first bouquet you ever gave me, and they’re one of my favorite flowers, so... here I am, I guess.”

Your voice wavers slightly, emotion creeping in. Saying it out loud makes it feel even more real. And while you told yourself the tattoo was mostly for you, deep down, you know it was also for him.

“Do you like it?” Your voice drops to a whisper, barely audible over the running water.

Kento doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he cups your cheek, and you lean into his touch, looking at him shyly. Then, he leans in and kisses you—slow, deep, his thumb gently stroking your skin. When he pulls away, he finally speaks.

“It’s beautiful. Of course, I like it. The fact that you not only remember the flowers I gave you but also the comment I made during our trip makes it even more special. I’m... really touched, love. And it suits you perfectly.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and before you can stop them, they spill over. You don’t even fully understand why you’re crying, but Kento takes his time wiping them away, pulling you into a tight embrace, whispering soft reassurances in your ear. You stay like this for a while, unconcerned with the water still running.

Eventually, you pull back. “Babe, we’ve been here for a while. Let’s wash up so you can relax?”

He smirks. “You’re right.”

You take your time carefully cleansing your tattoo after washing your body, then exit the shower to give him some alone time. As you quickly go through your skincare routine, he steps out and starts drying off. You reach for your comfortable at-home clothes, but he tsks.

“What?”

“Are you hungry?”

“No, I had some fruit snacks before showering. Why?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulls you closer, lowering his voice as he whispers in your ear.

“Because I intend to fuck you right now.”

Your entire body flushes with heat, but he’s already guiding you toward the bedroom, hands firm on your waist, lips finding your neck, leaving a fresh series of hickeys to replace the ones that faded while he was away. By the time you reach the edge of the bed, he unties your bath towel, letting it fall to the floor. His hands move to your breasts, his touch both gentle and possessive.

“I suppose I have to be careful since it’s fresh?”

You nod, one hand reaching for his nape. “Yes, but I’ll tell you if—oh—if it hurts.”

His fingers toy with your pierced nipples, tugging and rolling them between his fingers, sending jolts of pleasure straight between your legs. You arch into his touch, pressing your ass against his still-clothed crotch, feeling just how hard he is.

You missed his hands. Maybe you have a thing for them—or maybe it’s just him. You love the way he touches you, the way he knows exactly what you like. He doesn’t just grope; he teases, caresses, plays.

Between mewls, you ask him to kiss you, and he obliges, turning you to face him as his tongue sweeps into your mouth. You moan softly, nails dragging over his scalp. He pushes you onto the bed, following you down with a chuckle, undoing his own towel before settling between your legs.

You take a moment to admire the outline of his erection, but he doesn’t let you get far. When you pout, he smirks.

“I won’t last if you touch me, baby. Let me prepare you first.”

You nod, letting him take control. His mouth trails down to your nipple as his fingers slide between your folds, effortlessly finding your entrance. Without hesitation, he sinks two fingers inside you, and you keen, arching into his touch.

“Yes—”

His lips curve into a smile against your breast. His thumb finds your clit, circling it lazily, coaxing you closer to the edge. Your moans turn desperate, legs trembling as he curls his fingers inside you, pressing against your sweet spot. The combination of his touch—his fingers stretching you, his lips sucking at your nipple, his thumb circling your clit—sends you spiraling into an orgasm without warning.

“That’s it, baby, you’re doing so well.”

He lets you ride it out, only pulling his fingers away when he sees the telltale scrunch of your nose—overstimulation creeping in. You cup his face, pressing soft kisses wherever you can reach, your body still trembling.

Reaching for the nightstand, he makes a move to grab a condom. “Condom?”

You nod. After all, you probably won’t stop at just once, and you definitely don’t want to feel his cum dripping down your thighs for the rest of the evening.

He smiles as he rips it open, but you snatch it from his hand, rolling it onto his length yourself. He lets out a soft sigh, watching your hand stroke him slowly, teasing his tip.

Kento groans, gripping your wrist to stop you. You smirk but let him push your hand away, leaning back against the pillows, parting your legs for him.

He doesn’t waste any time. Lining himself up, he slides his cock through your slick folds, teasing you, his tip brushing against your clit, making you mewl.

“Ken, please... put it in.”

He lifts one of your legs around his waist and sinks inside, both of you moaning as he stretches you open. The fullness is intoxicating.

“Everything alright, love?” He cups your cheek.

You nod breathlessly. “Yes. Babe, you can move.”

You don’t have to ask him twice. He quickly sets a pace that you both like, one you know won’t let you last long, and you already find yourself gripping his forearms, nails pressing into his skin. He leans down to kiss you, and you welcome him warmly, parting your lips so he can play with your tongue while he continues thrusting into you. Your other leg wraps around his waist, your feet pressing against his lower back, and you feel him grunt into your mouth before he ends the kiss.

“Baby, I’m sorry—fuck—I’m not going to last—”

“That’s fine, Ken. Go ahead.” You smile softly, cupping his cheek, and he nods before increasing his pace.

Your mewls quickly become moans, one hand tangled in his hair while he continues kissing you. You feel his hand sneaking onto your belly, fingers reaching your clit, circling it firmly. Your moans grow louder, telling him you won’t last either, and his orgasm triggers yours. You feel yourself clenching around him as he twitches inside you, both of your moans echoing in the bedroom.

Kento rests his forehead against yours, and you cup his cheek again, caressing his jaw.

“I’m sorry, love. I missed you so much I couldn’t last long.”

“We both came, that’s what matters, babe. And the night isn’t over.” You smirk, and he chuckles before pulling out and throwing the condom in the bin. Your legs remain slightly parted as he slots himself between them, resting his hands on your lower belly, his chin hovering just above them while he looks at your fresh tattoo.

“Did it hurt?” You tangle your fingers in his hair.

“A bit, yes. It wasn’t as painful as my sides, but still sensitive.”

“Were you half-naked?” You chuckle.

“Why? Worried someone saw my tits?”

“No, I trust you.” You smile.

“They provided nipple covers, so Choso saw my breasts, but only in a professional way. He has a girlfriend, by the way—she’s the artist who worked on my sides and parts of my arms.”

Kento nods. “Still not interested in getting one?”

“No, I’m good.”

“I’ll have to go back in three weeks or so for touch-ups. I’ll introduce you to them if you’re free.”

“I’ll let you know, because the board made their decision. They offered me the position.”

Your eyes widen, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “And what did you say?”

“I said yes, even if it means overtime. Hopefully, it’ll only be for a few months.”

You smile widely. “Kento, that’s amazing! Congratulations! Well, not for the overtime, but for the new position, obviously. We have to celebrate.”

He smirks before moving his hands. “We’re already celebrating.”

“What do you me—AH.”

While you’re speaking, he grips your thighs, peppering kisses on your lower belly, slowly moving downward, and you giggle.

“Babe, I meant a nice restaurant or something else.”

“We will, but for now, we’re celebrating in bed.”

For the record, he told you he wanted to “eat something else before dinner”—and that’s exactly what he does. He spreads your lips with his index and middle fingers before diving into your pussy like he hasn’t eaten in days. He sucks on your clit, pushes his tongue inside you, and laps at your wetness like he doesn’t want to waste a single drop. You can’t do anything but moan in pleasure, telling him how good it feels, one hand tangled in his hair while the other grips the pillow under your head.

He’s always told you how much he loves eating you out—seeing your reactions, hearing your cries of pleasure, feeling your walls clench around his fingers or tongue. And to be honest, he’s really good at it.

You don’t need much time before the pleasure builds, a tight coil forming in your belly, your fingers tightening in his hair.

“Ken, gonna come—”

He just hums, and the vibration makes you jolt, your back arching, pushing your core against his mouth. He grips your thigh, holding you in place. When you open your eyes, you see him looking up at you from between your legs, and that’s what sends you over the edge. A loud moan echoes in the bedroom as you unravel, and he laps up every drop, sucking on your clit until you whimper from overstimulation.

You’re still panting when he wipes his chin with the sheet, and you extend a weak arm, wordlessly asking for a cuddle. Kento holds you in his arms as you catch your breath.

“Thankfully, I don’t have work this weekend.” You chuckle, and he laughs into your hair.

You talk for a while before his stomach growls, making you giggle. Extracting yourself from his grip, you move toward the dressing room while he watches your very naked body with an appraising gaze.

“C’mon, babe, let’s order something to eat. You’re starving, and I’m hungry too.”

You throw on a robe and underwear before heading to the kitchen, scrolling through food options on your phone while drinking some water. Kento comes up behind you, resting a hand on your waist, guiding you to your favorite ramen place’s menu. The restaurant knows your name by now, and their delivery is fast—less than fifteen minutes.

While eating in the living room, you tell him about your encounter at the tattoo parlor. He listens quietly, his expression unreadable. When you’re done, he hums, and you frown.

“That’s it? You’re not going to say anything?”

“Why would I? You have to endure seeing my ex-girlfriend at every work event. I don’t think I have much room to complain about you running into your ex-fling while getting a tattoo. I’m not thrilled that he still wants you, but since you’re not going back to him, it’s fine.” You nod.

“Will you go to him for a back piece?”

You shake your head. “He’s really talented, but no. There’s no way I’d get a massive back piece from an ex-fling. Besides, I don’t want anything else on my back.”

“Good.”

You lean against him, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Will there be another business trip?”

“Probably, but not for a few months.”

You nod, and he kisses your forehead before gently laying you down on the couch, untying your robe. You giggle, cupping his cheeks.

“Okay, now let me see your new addition one more time.”

__________________

Three weeks later, on another Monday afternoon, you find yourself once again in front of Yuki and Choso’s parlor, ready for your touch-ups. Mai welcomes you, and you engage in casual conversation with her and Yuki while Choso finishes up with his client.

“Just so you know, Sukuna will be coming by in a bit. He still has things to discuss with me,” Yuki says.

You sigh. “No problem.”

“Is your boyfriend coming too?”

“I have no idea. He had a meeting this afternoon and was supposed to let me know if he could come after, but I haven’t heard from him yet.” They nod.

“Choso is almost done. Do you want something to drink?”

“I’ll just go for a smoke, thanks.”

Seated on the low wall outside, you take your phone from your back pocket, frowning when you see only social media notifications—nothing from your boyfriend. Is he going to show up, or are you making a fool of yourself?

“You’ll get wrinkles before you hit thirty if you keep frowning like that.”

You lock your phone screen, unsurprised by the voice.

“Not sure that’s any of your business, Sukuna. Do you even work at your own parlor?”

He snorts. “I do, but I’m still waiting for you to show up for that back piece we talked about.”

“I’ll have to pass, but thanks for the opportunity.”

You raise your head, hearing him scoff.

“And why’s that? Is it because your new beau thinks he has competition?”

You laugh. “He doesn’t have competition. I don’t want additional work on my back. And let’s be honest—it’s weird to get a tattoo from someone you’ve seen naked a few times, especially when there was never anything serious.”

Sukuna hums while you put your phone back in your pocket. Your cigarette is between your fingers, still unlit.

“I’m serious. There won’t be anything else between us. I hope you find someone who makes you as happy as he makes me.” You smile at him, but his expression remains unreadable. He takes a few seconds before answering, just as you decide to put your cigarette away. Choso is probably already waiting for you, so you’ll skip the smoke this time.

“Actually, I met someone.”

Your eyes widen. “That’s amazing! Congratulations! I assume it’s going well?”

“Kinda. They work for me.”

You snort. “We’re taking our time,” he adds.

“As you should. That’s important. Are they a tattoo artist?”

“Yeah. I needed backup after the opening, and Uraume came to me looking for a new workplace after moving from Sapporo.”

You nod. “That’s a beautiful name.”

You continue the conversation, asking for more details about his new relationship, before another voice interrupts.

“Aren’t you supposed to be under a needle right now?”

You smile widely, while Sukuna frowns. “I’m about to be, babe. But you’re late.”

He kisses your temple, then glances at Sukuna.

“The meeting ran longer than expected, and traffic was bad,” he explains.

“Is this the infamous boyfriend?” Sukuna asks.

“It is. Who are you?”

Sukuna scoffs. “I think you already know who I am.”

The tension between them is thick enough to cut with a knife. You almost find it amusing, given the stark contrast between Kento and Sukuna. Your boyfriend is still wearing his suit—an Armani one—phone in hand, hair neatly styled. Meanwhile, Sukuna is in joggers and a tank top, showing off thick black tattoo lines around his biceps and forearms, with other designs peeking from his torso and neck.

“Come on, don’t start a dick-measuring contest,” you sigh. “Sukuna, you have things to discuss with Yuki, and you know how much she hates when you’re late. Babe, now that you’re here, let’s go.”

You move to take Kento’s hand, but he doesn’t budge. Sukuna doesn’t either. Your frown deepens.

“What is it? Are you the jealous type who can’t stand seeing his girlfriend have a casual conversation with an ex-fling?” Sukuna taunts.

“Not when said ex-fling tries to hit on her while she’s clearly not available.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Come on, she wasn’t interested in having a boyfriend when we had something. Not my fault she said she wouldn’t settle down.”

Kento smirks. “Maybe not with you, but she had no issues settling down with me.”

You see Sukuna’s smirk falter, while Kento’s only deepens. You’re pissed.

“Careful,” Sukuna retorts. “She might change her mind someday. And she knows where I live.”

“For fuck’s sake. I’m leaving. Enjoy your ego fight,” you snap, storming inside.

Mai chuckles when she sees you. “Choso is ready whenever you are.”

“Thanks, Mai. My boyfriend is out there fighting with Sukuna. Please don’t call an ambulance for either of them if something happens.”

She snorts. “Roger that. Should I let the winner into Choso’s room?”

“Not Sukuna, or Kento might kill him if he catches a glimpse of me half-naked again.”

You both chuckle before you step into Choso’s room. He greets you, and you remove your shirt, lifting your bra slightly so he can check the tattoo.

“It healed well, but you definitely need touch-ups in the center and right sections.”

He hands you nipple covers, and you return a few minutes later, lying on the bed. You hear Kento’s voice outside, talking to Mai, and you smile to yourself. Choso is preparing his machine when your boyfriend finally enters the room.

“Sorry for being late,” Kento says.

Choso glances up and nods. “No problem. Nanami, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Choso.”

“Likewise. The work you did is amazing. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you. Getting a compliment like that from someone who isn’t tattooed at all is really nice. I appreciate it.”

“How long will it take?”

“Around thirty minutes. You can sit over there.”

Kento nods, taking the available seat next to the bed, then grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.

“Are you done fighting?” you ask.

“Like you don’t argue with Mei every time you see her,” he teases.

You tsk, and he chuckles. “Sukuna’s actually kinda nice. But still an asshole. I don’t understand how you ended up with him.”

Choso snorts, and you blush. “He was nice to me—still is. And we weren’t together.”

“Did he tell you he has a partner now?” you ask.

“He did. They’re really brave for sticking with him,” Kento replies smugly.

You pinch his hand. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Love you too, baby.”

You blush again as he presses a quick kiss to your lips.

“Okay, Boo, no more talking. I’m about to start,” Choso says, turning on his machine. “Nanami, do whatever you want, just don’t touch anything. Especially not your girlfriend.”

Kento snorts. “No problem.”

You close your eyes, bracing for the familiar sting of the needle. Even though it isn’t exactly pleasant, you’ve always liked the feeling of getting tattooed. Your boyfriend will probably be busy on his phone, so you focus on the buzzing machine, the music playing softly from the speakers, and slowly drift into sleep.

You wake to Choso’s voice.

“I’m almost done, Boo. Nanami, while you’re here, how about a little something? I still have time.” You smile, already knowing the answer.

“I’m good, thanks. I prefer seeing them on her, actually.”

“I see. If you change your mind, I’m sure Yuki would love to have a virgin canvas for once.” You snort.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Your eyes widen, but you can’t say anything, the needle still poking through your skin.

When Choso is done, he lets you take a look in the mirror and takes pictures for his portfolio. You thank him warmly, wave goodbye to Yuki—who’s still talking to Sukuna—and leave the parlor, your hand intertwined with Kento’s.

“‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ If you do that without me, I’ll never forgive you.” He chuckles.

“If I ever get a tattoo, I’ll need your moral support. Of course, you’ll be there.” He kisses your temple, and you smile.

Back at home, he follows you to the bedroom while you change into your “home outfit.” When you’re down to your underwear, ready to put on a big T-shirt and shorts, he grips your waist.

“I’d like to take pictures of you.”

Your eyes widen, understanding what he means. The nudes—can you even call them nudes when you were just teasing him and nothing was really visible?—you sent him were taken by you, and he never asked for more. He seemed content with the pictures you sent during his trip, and you weren’t bold enough to send full nudes.

“Okay. How do you—”

“Let me guide you, baby. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Okay, but you have to undress too.”

He chuckles but obliges, quickly standing in the room in only his briefs. You’re wearing a casual underwear set—a salmon-colored bra and matching tanga, the tanga with a lace stripe and the bra plain. You let him position you, not missing the fact that his touch lingers more than necessary on your exposed skin.

He starts by taking pictures of your entire body, then focuses on the upper half. Your tattoo gets extra attention, goosebumps forming as his index finger traces its path—carefully avoiding too much contact since the touch-ups are fresh. Everything is sensual: his fingers, your positions on the bed, your delicate underwear. The teasing is intoxicating, and you feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

You’re not allowed to see the pictures, and he continues until you’re whining, seated in the middle of the bed.

“Want a kiss, babe—?”

He kneels on the bed, leaning in, and you grip his nape, sighing softly as his lips meet yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. One of his hands moves from your waist to your bra, letting one of the straps fall on purpose from your shoulder.

“Take it off and lie down,” he murmurs against your lips.

You nod, your arousal spreading through your body. Your nipples are already peaking when you remove your bra, and he cups one of your breasts, rolling your pierced bud between his thumb and forefinger.

“You look so good like this, baby. Will you let me take more?”

You nod, letting out a whimper.

Kento takes a few more pictures, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate paths on your body between each snap. You whine when you see his erection straining against his briefs. Your thighs twitch together, but it’s not enough friction. He notices—of course, he does—and smirks.

“Just a few more, love. You’ll get your reward right after.”

Setting the phone aside, he grips your hips and rolls your tanga down your legs until it lands on the floor. Then he stands, removing his own underwear in the process, and lets his gaze sweep over your body.

Your hair is splayed across the pillow, lips slightly swollen, cheeks flushed. Your nipples are perked, tattoos and piercings on full display, and your pussy glistens in the dim light.

“Damn it, baby—”

His left hand picks up the phone again while his right wraps around his shaft.

“Kento—”

“I’ll be quick, baby. I can’t wait either.”

You both glance down, watching his cock resting against your mound, the tip brushing your belly. A bead of precum drips near your navel, and you both moan at the sight. The camera shutter clicks softly in the quiet bedroom, mixed with your breathing.

His hands roam over your body—cupping your breasts, caressing your sides—before finally, finally, he puts the phone down.

Your eyes silently plead with him, urging him to do something. When he shifts just a little, his length catching on your clit, you mewl.

“How… how are the pictures?”

“Just perfect. Thank you for letting me do that.” He pauses, fingers teasing your entrance. “Do you want your reward now?”

You nod frantically.

“I’ll have to prep you first.”

“Can’t wait. Please—”

He tsks. “I don’t want to hurt you, love, but I’ll be as quick as possible.”

You moan into his mouth as his tongue plays with yours, his index finger pushing into you in one slow thrust. The kiss turns messy, a string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away to add a second finger.

Your moans fill the room, turning high-pitched when he brushes against your G-spot.

He makes you come once with his fingers and again with his mouth before you’re sobbing, begging him to fuck you.

Your legs rest against his torso, his gaze locked onto your underboob tattoo, his hands kneading your breasts. His thrusts are strong, both of your moans mixing in the air. A thin layer of sweat covers your bodies.

When you reach your third orgasm, his thumb rubbing firm circles against your clit, tears slip from your eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation. Kento cups your cheek, wiping them away, listening to your breathless moans before burying himself deep and filling you up.

You’re still panting softly, a few whimpers escaping as he pulls out, resting your legs back onto the bed before lying beside you.

You immediately curl into him, burying your face against his chest.

“You did so good, love. Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” you mumble. “I should take pictures of you too… for when you’re away.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Absolutely. Or even a video.”

“That’s too dangerous. What if it gets leaked?”

“There’s only a slight chance. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

You nod, closing your eyes as his hand draws soft circles on your back.

When you wake up, the smell of food drifts from the kitchen. After slipping into your home outfit, you tiptoe toward the source, stomach rumbling.

“Right on time, love.”

Chapter Text

__________________

In the elevator, you’re clinging to Nanami’s arm, waiting quietly while he speaks with his colleagues. The company is once again organizing a party to celebrate a new contract—which is why you haven’t seen your boyfriend for almost a week—and you’ve been invited as his plus one. This time, you bought your own dress: a black one that leaves your shoulders exposed, held by a large strip over your upper arms, with a slit that goes mid-thigh. And, to your dismay, you’re wearing 9-centimeter heels. Your coat was taken in the lobby, and your arms are now half-covered by a dark grey stole—to match Nanami’s suit.

You know you’ll meet more people at this party, and you’ll likely be the only non-Japanese person, but you’ve already met quite a few, some of them—like Ino and Todo—being close friends.

The elevator dings and you're the last ones standing. Nanami asks if you’re ready. You nod, and he kisses your forehead before stepping out into the massive party. Music isn’t blasting yet, only jazzy rhythms coming from the speakers. A lot of people are gathered near the buffet or the open bar, and a microphone is ready on stage. You exchange a look with Nanami, and his gaze tells you what you both want: a drink.

The open bar is crowded, so you wait patiently behind while Kento goes to order your drinks. A tap on your shoulder makes you turn.

“’Kuma!” You go straight for his arms, and he chuckles before hugging you quickly, holding his drink far enough to avoid staining your dress.

“Hey, Boo, it’s been a while.” You playfully punch his arm.

“We saw each other three days ago, stupid.” For once, you didn’t spend New Year’s Eve with your best friend. He went to his girlfriend’s family near Sendai, and you chose to party with your boyfriend instead. You saw Ino three days ago for a post-New Year’s get-together—in mid-January, yes—where you drank way too many cocktails and smoked too much. You went back to your apartment completely wasted. Nanami wasn’t thrilled about your state, but he was glad you came back in one piece.

“Did Nanami-san tell you he scolded me at work the day after?” You frown.

“No?”

“I was hungover, and I think he wasn’t really happy you drank that much with me. So he wasn’t exactly nice that day.” You snort.

“Well, we can’t say we weren’t drunk…”

“I don’t even understand how you got back to your place.”

“I don’t either. I think the taxi driver helped me enter the code for the lobby, but it’s all a blur.” You both laugh, only to be interrupted by Nanami returning with your drinks. You take yours from his hand, thanking him while Ino bows.

“Nanami-san, good evening.”

“Good evening, Ino. Do you plan on having the same kind of night as three days ago?” You frown and peck Kento’s waist, and he wraps his free arm around yours.

“Babe, we’re responsible adults. It won’t happen every time.”

“I’m keeping it to one drink, Nanami-san. My girlfriend is here, and she’ll probably kill me if I drink as much as last time.” Kento hums before taking a sip of his drink, followed by Ino and you.

“By the way, Boo. Sachie wants to invite you to a ‘girl afternoon’—I think that’s what she called it. Something with hot cocoa, baking cookies, and trying lots of skincare.” Your eyes light up.

“I’m in! Give her my number and we’ll set it up.” He and Nanami chuckle.

“Perfect, she’ll be really happy. I’ll go check on her. See you later?” You nod, smiling, and watch him leave. Nanami clinks glasses with you before leading you to a group of men you saw once at the Shibuya Sky party. They quickly drift the conversation toward work while you sip your drink quietly, Nanami’s arm circling your waist possessively. He doesn’t usually do that—only when… only when he wants people to know you’re his. You blush but keep drinking for composure, until your glass is empty.

You try to escape his grip, but he tightens it.

“What is it, love?”

“I just want to return my empty glass, Kento. Are you done with yours?”

“Yes, sorry.” You nod, smiling, and head back to the open bar. You hand your glasses to a waiter and are debating whether to order the same again when an unfamiliar voice says your full name from behind, making you turn slowly.

“That’s me?”

“We’ve never met in person, Miss. I’m Higuruma, your lawyer.” Your eyes widen, and you bow.

“Right! I can’t tell you how grateful I am for what you did for us—thank you so much. My coworkers only saw the notice about the lawsuit, so no one actually saw the pictures or the article, and I’m relieved.” His gaze is fixed on you, and you have trouble holding it. He’s wearing a black suit—probably Armani; Kento has one similar—and he looks tired. Really tired.

“No problem. I hope it didn’t cause too much trouble in your personal life.”

“A little, but I always find a way to manage. I just hope seeing the pictures wasn’t too awkward for you.” You blush, and he chuckles.

“It’s fine. I’ve seen way worse. Would you like a drink?”

“Sure.” He orders for you, and you clink glasses, continuing the conversation with more casual topics. You learn he’s been a lawyer for about ten years, that he’s divorced, that he’s worked for this company for four years, and that it’s exhausting.

“I assume you can’t just take holidays whenever you want?”

“I could… but I don’t want to. It’s fine.” You place your hand on his forearm.

“It’s important to think about yourself, you know. If you get some rest, you’ll be more productive when you come back.” He glances at your hand, and you quickly withdraw it.

“I’ll think about it.”

You feel a large hand sneaking onto your waist and gasp in surprise, while Higuruma simply lifts his gaze slightly.

“Nanami, good evening.”

“Good evening, Higuruma. I see you’ve finally met my girlfriend in the flesh.” Higuruma snorts.

“It’s nice to put a face to the voice I only heard on the phone.” Nanami nods.

“Gojo Sr. wants to see me. If you’ll excuse us, Higuruma.” Higuruma just nods, finishing his drink while you wave and follow Kento.

“What’s going on, babe?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Gojo Sr. asked to see me—and that includes you, since you’re my girlfriend.” You mumble something in your native language, and he stops, gripping your waist.

“Behave. He’s my boss, remember.” You frown again.

“I know that, thank you very much. Will he be with your wonderful ex-girlfriend?” He sighs, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Probably. Come on, love—it’ll be quick.”

It is not. Nanami and Gojo Sr. begin talking, and the conversation drags on for at least five minutes. You’re standing uncomfortably two steps to the side, not understanding everything and with nothing to do but wait. You think you’ll be fine—that nothing will happen—until you see a pair of fake boobs enter your field of vision, followed by silver hair and a grin you hate. You slowly raise your gaze to meet Mei’s smirking face, looking at you like you’re a dirty tissue stuck under her shoe.

“Good evening, little lady. Fancy seeing you here.” You look at her, unfazed.

“Good evening, Mei. May I ask why? Until further notice, Nanami still has the right to invite his girlfriend as a plus one.”

“Mmh…” You look at her, noticing how her brows can’t furrow because of the Botox stiffening her forehead. She smirks again. “I thought he would’ve moved on by now. He’s not the type to stick around long.”

It’s your turn to smirk.

“He wasn’t with you, but everything’s fine between us. Thanks for your concern. I hope things are going well with your… husband. He must be really brave to stick around this long.” Her smirk falters.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Or what? Nanami won’t come back to you, so live your life with your husband and stop bothering me.”

“Are you really sure about that?” You chuckle dryly.

“One hundred percent. Unlike you, he’s not a cheater.” She takes a step forward, coming closer to you. You don’t back down, even as her stiff face gets close to yours.

“You know, I see him almost every day. It’s only a matter of time before he goes back to what we had, leaving you all alone.” You clench your fists.

“Is that a fantasy of yours? Maybe your husband doesn’t satisfy you enough, so you have to fantasize about your ex-boyfriend, praying he’ll take you back as his sidepiece?”
You don’t even see her hand land on your face, but you feel the sting. She’s red as a tomato, her gaze burning into you as you slowly bring a hand to your cheek. Yup, she did it. She slapped you. You stare at her, astonished.

Nanami and Gojo Sr. stop mid-conversation when they hear the sound of the slap. Both their eyes move to Mei’s arm lowering and your hand against your cheek. They exchange a look before Nanami grabs your arm, while Gojo Sr. walks up to Mei.

“I told you to watch your mouth, little lady.”

“You fucking bitch. Don’t touch me ever again, or I’ll make you eat your extensions.”

Nanami tightens his grip on your arm and leads you to the elevator. He stays silent while you breathe deeply, anger still pulsing through your veins. He presses the button to a lower floor, and you let him, staring blankly at the door, trying to process what just happened. Mei—his ex—slapped you. In public. At a company party. In front of everyone.

It’s only when he closes the door to his office that he speaks, his voice low and controlled.

“Would you care to explain what the fuck just happened?”

You don’t answer immediately. Instead, you take off your shoes and stole, avoiding his gaze while he removes his vest. Your feet sink into the plush carpet and you sigh with relief.

“These shoes are awful. I should’ve picked the other ones.”

Nanami says your name—your full name—sternly. You freeze. He never uses your name like that unless you’re in trouble.

“What. Happened.”

“She started it by saying she was surprised to see me here, since you weren’t, and I quote, ‘the type to stick for long.’ I told her her husband must be really brave to stick with her for so long.”
You hear him snort, and you smirk—but his face remains serious.

“Then she implied you’d come back to her, and I told her that unlike her, you’re not a cheater. She said seeing you every day meant it was only a matter of time before you went back to her, so I asked if that was one of her fantasies—being your sidepiece. And that’s when she slapped me.”

“I told you to behave.”

You frown and raise your voice. “For fuck’s sake, she started it! Am I supposed to stay quiet while she insults both of us?”

He raises his voice too. “You’re supposed to handle it like an adult, not a teenager who stirs the pot!”

You laugh dryly. “Kettle, pot. You think I didn’t notice you gripping my waist all night? What was that about, huh? Marking your territory for Ino, Higuruma, your colleagues? Is that mature behavior?” He steps closer. “Are the hickeys not enough now? Do I need to physically stand next to you at every event just to show everyone I’m yours?”

His lips crash into yours. You gasp, shocked by the suddenness, but you quickly melt into the kiss. He nibbles your bottom lip and you part your lips, allowing his tongue to tease yours. You don’t understand everything—why he’s jealous when you’re simply talking to other people. Isn’t that normal at parties? Were you not allowed to defend yourself from Mei’s digs?

Your hands slip around his neck as his lips move to your neck, sucking just below your ear. His hands trail down your back to your ass, gripping it and pulling you close. You sigh, your hands sliding over his shoulders, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. His fingers trace the zipper of your dress, slowly sliding it down your back. His tongue dances with yours again, and you moan softly when his fingertips glide along your spine.

“Take it off. I don’t want to ruin it.”

You nod, but instead, you begin unbuttoning his shirt. When his chest is exposed, your hands trail across his skin, and he sighs, removing his tie and shirt in one motion. You admire him for a second—his steady breathing, his defined muscles.

“Sit on the couch.”

He obeys, unbuttoning his slacks as he sits with his legs parted. His gaze is fixed on you as you peel down the upper part of your dress. You’re not wearing a bra—your nipples already visible through the fabric—and his eyes darken in appreciation.

“It was supposed to be a surprise for when we got home, but since you can’t wait...”

Your dress drops to the floor. You're wearing a black garter belt, sheer stockings, and a matching thong. It’s not new lingerie—you bought it while he was in Fiji for a work trip—but you never got around to wearing it. You slowly turn, letting him take in the full view, and he opens his arms for you to join him. You straddle him, your center pressing against his growing bulge, his hands finding your waist. You begin to grind slowly, and he just stares at you—completely awestruck.

“Is it to your liking?”

“You’re a minx. I can’t believe you had all of that under your dress all evening.”
You smirk.

“I assume that means it is to your liking, then.”

You kiss him with urgency, feeling his hands come to your front, kneading your breasts. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you continue grinding against him—but it’s quickly not enough. You rise slightly so he can pull his slacks and underwear down to his thighs, and you stroke him a couple of times. Then you push your thong aside, line him up with your entrance, and slowly sink down onto him.

There was no prep, no lube, and you can feel it. You scrunch your nose, the stretch uncomfortable at first—but the pain gradually melts into pleasure. You both moan loudly when your hips finally settle against his. Your head rests in the crook of his neck, panting.

“Babe... ‘s too big—”

His hand strokes your back, soothing you.

“Take your time, baby.”

You raise your head to kiss him. His hands cup your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples, and you mewl, unconsciously grinding against his length. His mouth quickly latches onto one of your buds, his tongue playing with it, and your whimpers grow louder.

“That’s it, baby. You gonna ride me now?”

You nod, eyes glossy, and begin bouncing on him, guided by his hands gripping your ass. The pleasure overtakes the pain, your soft ah's directly teasing Nanami’s cock. His lips crash against yours in a feverish kiss that leaves you both with swollen mouths. You're lost in the moment, moaning your pleasure without realizing footsteps are approaching.

It’s only when Nanami suddenly clamps a hand over your mouth, shushing you, that you register what’s happening. Your eyes go wide. You don’t know what to do, but he doesn’t stop—his rhythm continues, your moans now muffled.

You barely hear the footsteps over the sound of skin slapping skin.

“What the hell is that noise?”

You both recognize Higuruma’s voice echoing from the hallway. You really hope Nanami locked the door. Your hopes are dashed when he whispers:

“I forgot to lock the door...”

You clench around him, and he moans. The footsteps pause.

“Does that turn you on? That Higuruma might catch us?”

You hadn’t thought about it—but maybe. It is kind of hot. After all, this isn’t your workplace. You close your eyes and Nanami smirks, his thumb brushing your nipple as you continue grinding.

“Knew it, baby. You’re filthy.”

You shake your head in protest—until a deep thrust pulls a sharp moan from your throat, his hand barely muffling the sound.

“You’re not? You’re gripping me like a vice, moaning like you want to be discovered—and you’re telling me this isn’t turning you on?”

He releases your mouth and you let out a loud, unfiltered moan.

“Ken, I—”

“Nanami? Are you in your office?”

You freeze. The voice is right outside the door. You look at Nanami, pleading silently for him to stop. He doesn’t. He thrusts into you and responds smoothly:

“Yes.”

Your hand rushes to cover your mouth again, but he slides his hand down to your mound. You shake your head, feeling your climax approach. If he touches your clit, you’ll lose it. He smirks, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand—the one covering your mouth.

“Is everything okay? I heard something weird.”

“Everything’s fine. We’re putting ice on her cheek. Mei slapped her.”

“You know, you can sue her for that.”

Higuruma’s addressing you, but there’s no way you can answer without being caught. Nanami whispers for you to respond, stilling his hips for a moment. You exhale shakily.

“I... I think I will. Thank you, Higuruma-san.”

“No worries, miss. You two should come back to the party. Gojo Sr. is looking for you again.”

You both groan quietly. Higuruma chuckles.

“And make sure there’s no evidence of your... activities when you return.”

You blush deeply, while Nanami just chuckles and replies, “Sure.”

You don’t speak again until you’re sure he’s left the floor. Neither of you moves—but you know you’ll need to start again quickly.

“So fucking embarrassing...”

His hands return to your chest, cupping and rolling your nipples with his thumbs, playing with the piercings, and you whine.

“You liked that. Don’t lie.”

You don’t answer. Instead, you grip his shoulders and resume moving, moaning again as he sucks another hickey onto your collarbone. He thrusts up to match your rhythm, and your nails dig into his back as he growls:

“Say it again, baby.”

“Say what—oh, oh, right there!”

His grip tightens on your ass, his thrusts sharper now, chasing his release.

“You know what.”

You look at him, finally understanding. You’re not going anywhere—especially not without him. You trust him. He’d never cheat, and you won’t either. You cup his face, locking eyes with his blown pupils. A particularly deep thrust hits your g-spot and you cry out.

“’m so close, Ken. I’m yours. I promise—”

He grunts, kissing you hard, and moves one hand to your clit, rubbing it firmly. Your head falls onto his shoulder just as the knot in your belly snaps. You both come together, moaning into each other’s ears. Your walls squeeze him so tightly he can barely move, spilling deep inside you.

But in this moment, you don’t care. You take your time to recover, trading soft kisses on shoulders and lips, before you finally speak.

“I don’t want to go back. Can we go home?”

He sighs, one hand gently caressing your back, tracing the curve of your spine.

“You heard Higuruma—Gojo Sr. wants to see me again. It won’t be long, I promise.”

You hum, not really satisfied with his answer. But since you’re at his work party, you can’t throw a tantrum. You pull out, wincing as you feel his cum slowly drip from your hole. He watches your pussy with an appraising gaze. You frown.

“I know you think a creampie is hot, but I’m the one who has to deal with that.”

“I know, love. Let me clean you.”

He stands and grabs the tissue box from his desk, cleaning you both quickly. You take your time kissing him, your chest pressed against his torso. He leaves one last kiss on your sternum, where the peony is inked permanently, then helps you back into your dress.

He leads you to the women’s bathroom so you can freshen up, and you’re mortified when you see your reflection. A new series of hickeys runs from your ear to your collarbone—obviously, you don’t have your makeup with you to cover them. Your lips are red and swollen, your hair needs brushing... you’re a mess. Thankfully, there’s a brush in your purse. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do. Back in the office, you adjust your stole, trying to cover the hickeys, though it doesn't quite work. Nanami puts on his vest again, smoothing it, then smooths your dress, adjusting the slit and the sleeves. You intertwine your fingers as you walk to the elevator in silence.

Your head resting on Kento’s arm, you stare at the elevator door, not saying a word, until it opens at another floor. You slowly lift your head—and find yourself face-to-face with Gojo and Geto. Their hair’s a mess, shirts wrinkled. Gojo has a massive hickey under his ear, and Geto is still adjusting his suit. All four of you look at each other for a beat—before erupting into laughter. It lasts a good thirty seconds and you’re wiping tears from the corners of your eyes when Gojo speaks.

“Damn, I didn’t know you had it in you, Nanamin. Leaving a party for a quickie? Was it in your office?”

You and Nanami answer at the same time:

“We didn’t do such thing.”

“Yeah, it was. On the couch.”

Nanami gives you a look, and you snort.

“Babe, it’s not like it’s not obvious. And we weren’t the only ones, apparently.”

Gojo grins proudly. Geto smirks.

“Just so you know,” you add, “I’ll be suing your stepmother. She slapped me at the party.”

“Please do.” Gojo chuckles. “How did that happen?”

You explain what happened with Mei. Nanami’s arm slides around your waist again, and this time, you let him. It’s not about possession—it’s comfort. Even if you’re laughing, he knows you’re still a little shaken. Geto nods, gaze turning serious, and Gojo picks up again just as the elevator dings.

“Let Higuruma handle it. Put his fees in the procedure—you won’t have to pay a thing. Hell, I’ll cover it myself.”

“I can pay, you know. But thank you.”

Nanami adds, “We won’t go to the nightclub this time.”

They both nod.

“Gojo Sr. wants to see me—or us. We’ll leave after that.”

“Sure, no problem.”

You part ways, heading for the bar first. A shot feels necessary. Afterward, you find Gojo Sr.—thankfully, Mei is nowhere in sight.

“Let me apologize for my wife’s behavior, Miss,” he says.

You pause, looking at him.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think it’s your job to do that. She’s an adult and she can apologize herself.”

Nanami nudges you, saying your name in a warning tone. Gojo Sr. looks at you for a moment—then chuckles. You smile lightly.

“You’re right,” he says. “But I still apologize. The situation is... complicated, given the relationship Nanami and Mei had before you came into the picture.”

You nod silently.

“She shouldn’t have slapped you. It was inappropriate and disrespectful. That’s it—you’re free to enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Gojo-san.”

You both nod and head for the dancefloor, where jazz is still playing softly. You sway to the rhythm, hands on Nanami’s chest, his resting on your waist. You let a song pass before nudging him.

“‘Before I came into the picture,’ like it’s my fault you and Mei aren’t together anymore?”

He snorts.

“Let him say that, if it makes him feel better. He knows damn well his wife’s in the wrong, but he won’t admit it to us. He’s not learning from his mistakes—marrying Mei was the worst one. You won’t see him again, I think. Gojo will take his place during the year.”

You nod, smiling.

“Will he get even cockier?”

You both chuckle.

“Probably, yeah.”

Your hands move to his neck. He leans in and kisses you slowly. You take your time, enjoying the public affection, before pulling back.

“I meant what I said earlier. I won’t cheat on you. I won’t leave you—unless you don’t want me anymore. Even if I can’t be ‘owned,’ I’m yours, Kento.”

He cups your cheek. You lean into his palm.

“I thought the tattoo was explicit enough about my feelings for you, but... I love you so much it hurts, sometimes.”

His lips part slightly. His gaze is intense, almost overwhelming. His thumb strokes your cheek as he speaks, starting with your name.

“I’ll have you for as long as you want me in your life. I love you too, baby. So much. I wish we could be together all the time. I’m sorry about my absences.”

“It’s fine. We don’t need to be joined at the hip 24/7—it’s not healthy. But babe, you really need to take some holidays. You deserve a break.”

He presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“I will. Do you want to stay a little longer?”

You shake your head.

“No. If you’re ready, I’d like to leave. I can’t promise I won’t punch Mei in the face if I see her again tonight.”

He laughs.

“Let’s go, then.”

In the elevator, he grips your ass and kisses you feverishly, playing with your tongue until you moan into his mouth. You only break the kiss when you reach the ground floor, collecting your coats and heading to Nanami’s car.

His hand toys with the slit of your dress on your thigh until you part your legs, letting him tease you as he drives. His fingers slide under your dress, and you sigh softly when he reaches your thong. You feel him push the fabric aside, tracing your wet slit—and you whimper.

“Yes—”

“You’re still wet, baby.”

His pointer finger dips toward your entrance, teasing it just slightly, and your moan echoes in the car. He keeps doing it—tracing your slit, almost reaching your clit—until your whimpers spill freely. You finally come back to your senses.

“Oh—babe, you’re driving—”

“We’re almost home, love. Can you wait until then?”

“I… yes, I can.”

He pulls his hand away, resting it instead on your thigh, and you focus on the road, eager to get home.

The elevator ride feels endless. You keep exchanging looks, knowing exactly what the other wants—but neither of you dares act on it with security cameras watching.

When the apartment door finally shuts behind you, your lips are back on his. You pull off his vest while kicking off your shoes, giggling when his hands grope your ass and push you against the nearest wall. There’s urgency in every movement—a shared need to feel each other as soon as possible.

“Babe—bedroom—”

You slip from his grip and head toward the bedroom, but he catches you in his arms, lifting you bridal-style. He unzips your dress while you unbutton his shirt. You slip out of your lingerie while he removes his pants and boxers, your bodies pressing together, skin on skin, hands roaming freely.

He lays you on the bed and finds your entrance with his fingers, but you shake your head—you want more. He withdraws his hand, lines himself up with your entrance, and asks softly, “Are you ready?” You just nod and cup his cheek.

In one smooth thrust, Nanami slides inside you, his tip brushing your cervix. Your moans fill the room, accompanied by whispered praises—him telling you you’re beautiful, begging you to come for him again. You pant in his ear, telling him how good it feels, how much you love him. His gaze is so tender it brings tears to your eyes.

It goes on like this for most of the night—slow, loving moments blending into frantic, desperate ones. You make love gently and fuck like rabbits, switching positions, changing rooms.

At 2:00 a.m., you’re in the kitchen, drinking water and eating snacks before giving him a blowjob right there. At 3:00 a.m., you’re in the living room, crying from pleasure as his thrusts push you to the edge of overstimulation. At 4:00 a.m., you’re sobbing through your umpteenth orgasm as he fills you again, calling you my love and kissing your swollen lips. You almost fall asleep in the shower. He ends up washing your body for you before carrying you to bed. You cling to him, limbs tangled, and fall asleep in his arms.

Chapter Text

_________________

You’re pissed. Your phone lies on your bed, the text message app still open on the conversation with Kento.

From: babe 💜

3:30 p.m.
There’s still one meeting to go. I’ll let you know as soon as possible when it finishes.

Your school is organizing a party before Golden Week, and you were told you could bring a plus one—just like Kento’s work parties. What a wonderful idea to bring your boyfriend of almost a year, right? At first, he said yes. You told everyone at school that he’d be there, even if he was busy. No one had ever met him, and even your closest colleagues started to get suspicious: was he really your boyfriend, or were you just making up a story? You showed pictures, talked about your weekend getaways, holidays in Fiji, photos of flower bouquets—and some of them believed you. Tonight was the perfect occasion for him to meet them.

Then, he had a three-day business trip in Kyoto, followed immediately by a four-day trip to Sendai. You understood—Gojo, before officially taking the CEO position, had asked the board members to cover all of Japan’s branches. Tonight would’ve been the first time you saw each other in a whole week, and yet you hadn’t heard from him all afternoon or evening. You got all pampered and ready, waiting for his call, but nothing. Still fuming, you call the only person responsible for this. He sing-songs your name when he answers.

“I’m surprised you’re calling me in the middle of the week, Miss Teacher. Aren’t we supposed to grab drinks this Saturday?”

“We are, Satoru. I was supposed to go to a work party with Kento, and he told me you scheduled a last-minute meeting. I’ve had no news since this afternoon.” The silence is deafening, and you frown.

“This party was organized months ago—” He cuts you off.

“We don’t have a meeting scheduled tonight. I canceled it.”Your stomach drops.

“What… do you mean?”

“I told him this morning that it was canceled.”

“But—”

“I assure you, we don’t have any meeting tonight. I’m already at home, and he should be at his too. I even asked him to leave early, even though he had work to do.”

“I see. Thank you, Satoru.” You can hear him trying to say something else, but you hang up.

You don’t know what to do: take off your makeup and the fancy dress—one he bought you—rummage through his stuff to find evidence—but of what? Or go to his office to try to find him? Unless he already left and he’s with someone else. You sit, staring blankly at the carpet. If you find him with another woman, it’s over. No second chances. But if you try to find him, you’ll know once and for all if he’s using work trips and meetings as excuses to see someone else. If he’s with Mei, you’ll probably rip out her extensions, punch her in the face — payback for her slapping you — before killing your boyfriend. Just thinking about her makes you gag, but you’re decided.

In the subway, you get curious glances. Dressed to the nines on a Thursday evening, in heels you can barely tolerate and a prominent frown, you’re neither appealing nor expected on public transport—but you don’t give a shit. When you finally reach Kento’s workplace, you can still see lights on in several offices. It’s almost 8:00 p.m., and Gojo told you he always asks employees to leave by 7:30 unless there’s a meeting. The clerk recognizes you and opens the door.

“Miss, we’re outside of opening hours.”

“I know, sir, but Nanami hasn’t come home and I was wondering if he was still here?”

“I haven’t seen him leave, so he’s probably still in. Go ahead.”

In the elevator, you’re sweating. Who will you find there? You don’t even know how you’ll react. What if he had a medical issue and no one noticed? So many questions flood your mind that you barely register the elevator doors opening. The click of your heels is deafening in the empty corridor—you cringe internally. If he’s with someone, they’ll know someone’s coming. But you hear no voices from the offices.

Kento’s door is closed, a faint light shining from underneath. No sound. You push it open slightly, heart pounding. A vague silhouette sits behind his desk. The hallway light spills in, revealing him—his soft snores echo in the quiet room. He’s asleep, head resting on his crossed arms. You exhale loudly, and the light stirs him. He stretches slowly. You say nothing, watching as he wipes his eyes. He gasps when he sees you, taking in your outfit.

“Shit. Baby, let me grab my jacket and we’ll go to the party. I wish I’d had time to freshen up at home first, but I’m wearing the Brioni suit, so I think—”
You cut him off.

“The party’s over, Kento.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was from 5:30 to 8:00. It’s 8:10.” He goes still, looking at you. But you continue.

“If you didn’t want to go, you could’ve just said so. It would’ve been fine. Actually, no, I would’ve been pissed, but I’d rather you told me the truth than lied about a meeting just to get out of something you didn’t want to attend.” He stands, but you’re not finished.

“My colleagues wanted to meet you. Even the principal asked if the infamous Nanami was going to show up. Some of them think I’m faking this relationship to get attention. Usually, I don’t care what people think, but it escalated with two colleagues I already have beef with. Do you know how exhausting it is to justify my relationship to people I don’t give a shit about? I heard them whispering in the restroom yesterday, betting I’d show up alone and make up an excuse for your absence—since they were sure you weren’t real. I know you just got back from a business trip, but this was the only time I asked you to be by my side. I always say yes to your work events, even when I’d rather go to sleep because I have work the next morning—and this is how I’m rewarded?” 

He steps closer, but you don’t even look at him. When he speaks, you fix your gaze on the lamp on his desk.

“I forgot the meeting was canceled. I had so much work after the Sendai trip that I completely missed what Gojo said. I thought I could get some rest before seeing you, but I ended up sleeping longer than I planned.” You don’t respond.

“I’m so sorry, love. I really am. I know how important this was to you. I swear I wasn’t lying.” Still, silence. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You ignore his words, too angry to accept them. Instead, you change the subject.

“I want to leave. Are you done?” He sighs.

“Yes. Did you take an Uber to come?”

“Subway.”

In the car, his hand rests on your bare thigh — you're not wearing pantyhose since the weather is really nice this time of year — and you feel his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. You let him, but when his hand creeps closer to your inner thigh, you swat it away, frowning.

“There’s no way you’re making it up to me with sex. I’m dead serious, Kento.”
He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t touch your thigh again either. You hold back a sob. You don’t know if he notices, and you try your best not to let him hear.

When you finally reach the apartment, you still haven’t spoken to him. You take off your shoes and rush to the bathroom to remove your makeup and take a well-deserved shower. You hear him approaching, and you quickly lock the door, pressing your back against it.

“Leave me alone.”

“Don’t you want to eat?”

“No.”
You hear him sigh on the other side, and after a few seconds, you're finally alone. You're barely able to take off your makeup before you start crying, rushing to turn on the shower so he won’t hear you.

Under the stream of water, your mind replays everything — especially what’s coming tomorrow. The party was mandatory, and you're probably the only one who didn’t attend, so the principal will have noticed. The gossip among your colleagues will continue, and once again, you'll be at the center of it. How are you supposed to show your face at work tomorrow after all this drama?

Nanami notices your red eyes when you come to the kitchen for a glass of water. When he tries to speak, you cut him off.

“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“No, please. Sleep with me.”

“And why would I do that?”

“We haven’t seen each other in a week. I know you’re angry, but I need you next to me.” You sigh.

“Fine. But I’m not just angry, Kento. I’m disappointed.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” You don’t answer and head straight to the bedroom.

You’re pretending to sleep when he comes in and kisses your forehead, telling you good night and that he loves you. You don’t respond. The only thing he hears is a sob escaping your lips. He wraps his arm around your waist, trying to soothe you. Your tears spill and his grip tightens, but you remain silent, giving him the cold shoulder as your sobs echo in the room.

You barely sleep that night. The knot in your stomach is so tight it makes you throw up a few times.

The next day, you arrive at work absolutely exhausted: dark circles under your eyes, yawning every other second, and an almost unbearable stomachache. Thankfully, you only have three classes on Fridays.

The principal greets you at the entrance and immediately asks you to follow him to his office. Once you're seated, he doesn't waste time.

“Do you have a medical certificate for your absence last night?”

“I don’t, Kobayashi-san.”

“Why weren’t you at the party?” You sigh.

“I wasn’t able to make it, Kobayashi-san. My… boyfriend had an issue at work, and I had to go with him.”

“How convenient.” You frown but stay silent.

“You were the only one absent, and you know how much I hate casualness.”

“I know, Kobayashi-san.”

“I have a board meeting in a few minutes. I’ll have to bring up this issue.” You gasp.

“Does that mean my job is on the line?”

“It could, yes.” Your stomach drops.

“Even if you’re doing well here, other teachers would have attended that party. And the excuse you gave isn’t really valid.” You stay silent.

“I expected—” He’s interrupted by his secretary knocking at the door.

“I’m sorry, Kobayashi-san. The board is waiting.”

“I’ll see you later to let you know the decision.” You nod and bow before leaving.

Two coworkers you can’t stand spot you wiping your eyes in the corridor and snicker.

“Well, if it isn’t the lovely foreigner who missed the party because her imaginary boyfriend couldn’t make it?”

You see red and can’t help yourself.

“Shut the fuck up.” Their eyes widen.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me. Shut the fuck up and go do your job. There’s a board meeting happening right now — do you want me to tell them you’re screwing your lover in the teacher’s lounge or in your classroom when you think no one’s around?” One of them frowns, but you turn to the other.

“Did you know her lover is actually your ex-boyfriend?” They both gasp, and you smirk.

“Told you to mind your own fucking business. I’m probably getting fired, so I’ve got nothing to lose. Hope I never see you again.”

After your classes, the principal calls you back to his office. He doesn’t beat around the bush.

“You’re suspended.”

“For how long?”

“Until the board decides what to do.”

“I see. Just to be clear, I’m being suspended because I didn’t attend a work party held outside my working hours, due to a personal emergency. Correct?”
He nods and adds that you won’t be paid during the suspension. You chuckle bitterly.

“Of course not.”

“The board will reconvene in a week. You’ll be allowed to attend to hear their decision.” You don’t respond. You bow and leave.

In the subway, you decide not to go home right away and instead head to a café for some time alone. There, you try to process the fact that you’ll probably be fired next week and will have to quickly find a new job before the embassy cancels your working visa. You text Ino, asking to meet as soon as possible. He replies that he’s in Sendai until Monday but invites you over that afternoon.

Unbeknownst to you, Nanami is on his way to your workplace. He knows you usually spend Friday afternoons working in the teacher’s lounge and expects to find you there. When he arrives and tells the principal’s secretary he’s there for you, she replies that you’ve already left.

“I still need to see the principal. Is he available?”

“Let me check.”

While he waits, two of your colleagues exit the principal’s office and gasp when they see him. They don’t greet him—whispering instead a series of, “Holy shit, he really exists!” and “Do you think he already knows she’s fired?” Nanami frowns.

The principal exits his office, but he reacts more calmly, introducing himself. Nanami follows him inside.

“I’m Nanami Kento.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Nanami-san.”

Nanami explains what happened the night before, making it clear that it wasn’t your fault and expressing hope that it didn’t cause any issues. He sees the principal’s face change and immediately connects it to what he overheard earlier.

“You fired her because she couldn’t attend the party?”

“She’s not fired—only suspended. The board will make the final decision.”

“What are they going to do?”

“I can’t share that information.” Nanami snickers.

“Oh yes, you can. You know perfectly well that these parties aren’t mandatory since they happen outside working hours. She doesn’t even work on Thursdays—you gave her that day off every week. Unless there was a serious breach of her duties as a teacher, there’s no justification to fire her, and you know it. She’s a foreigner, but I’m Japanese—and I know the laws of our country.” The principal pales, but Nanami isn’t done.

“You know, we sued a company this summer and won. We can sue your school and your board too—our lawyer is one of the best in the country.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Take it however you like. We’ll see you next week with the board, Kobayashi-san.”

Nanami doesn’t wait for a response and leaves. When he tries to call you, you don’t answer—you’re still in the crowded subway. He sighs. You haven’t spoken to him since the night before, and he has no idea how you’ll react to the flowers.

When he enters the apartment, it’s quiet—but he still calls out:

“Baby, are you here?”

“In the living room.” Your voice is flat, emotionless.

As Nanami approaches, the first thing he sees is your laptop screen—LinkedIn, your recently updated profile. Then you look up, eyes dry. He nearly sighs in relief. He holds out a massive bouquet of flowers.

“How was the meeting?”

“I didn’t go.” You hum, closing your laptop. Your eyes drift to the bouquet—of course there are peonies in it.

“Thank you.” You walk to the kitchen and place the flowers on the counter as you grab a vase.

“Can we talk?”

“The school’s going to fire me next week.”

“I know.” You turn to him sharply. “I went there to give you the flowers since you’re usually in the teacher’s lounge in the afternoons. The secretary told me you’d left, and I ran into the principal.”

“Did he say I’m suspended for not attending the party last night?”

“He didn’t confirm it directly, but I reminded him it happened outside working hours and that you don’t work Thursdays. Meaning, it wasn’t mandatory.” You sigh.

“Either way, they’ll fire me. Hiring a Japanese teacher is easier for them. They don’t have to offer as many benefits.”

“The thing is, if you sue, they lose credibility—and money—because they’re firing you without cause.”

“So what’s your point?”

“Threaten to sue for wrongful dismissal. Hire Higuruma and you’ll win. That threat alone might be enough to get them to back off.”

“But I don’t want to stay at that school. Did you see how the principal treated me? Like I’d committed a crime. He ignored my private life, made me work weekends from home, and suspended me like I’m a misbehaving teenager. I almost punched two teachers this morning—they never stop making comments about us, and I’m done. Even if they don’t fire me, I’m not going back.”

Nanami doesn’t respond right away. He watches you place the bouquet in the vase and settle it on the counter. He knows you’re serious. You’ve already made up your mind. There are plenty of schools in Japan—you’ll find another, even if it means moving.

“Then let’s change the plan. Hire Higuruma and offer them a deal: they don’t fire you, but they give you severance so you resign quietly. If they refuse, sue. You’ll win more that way. They’re not in a position to say no—especially after trying to fire you without cause.”

You pause as he moves closer.

“Once again, I’m really sorry I put you in this position. If you don’t find a new job immediately, I’ll take care of things—even if you don’t like the idea. I hope you’ll forgive me, love.”

You nod.

“I think your idea makes sense. I’ll call Higuruma Monday morning.”

________________________

The next evening, you ask Kento to go out for drinks with Geto and Gojo without you—you need to call your family and explain everything, and you’re not sure how long it’ll take. You were supposed to meet his old friend, Haibara, but he reassured you you’ll meet soon. You haven’t forgiven your boyfriend yet, but at least you’re talking to him again. For Nanami, that’s a good sign—he tells his friends over drinks he’s confident you’ll forgive him soon.

“Damn, Nanami, you really fucked up,” Gojo says bluntly, as always. Geto nods in agreement, taking a drag from his cigar.

“I know.”

“I even told you to leave at 4:00.”

“I closed my eyes for a minute—I knew I couldn’t drive safely without some rest. I didn’t think a few minutes would turn into four hours.”

“What are you going to do so she forgives you?” Haibara asks.

“I had an idea... but now I’m not sure it’s the right time. I’m not going to smother her with gifts—she doesn’t like that.”

“What about a weekend away? Okinawa’s nice this time of year.”

“Or a spa day.”

“Or a new tattoo.”

“Or...” Nanami hesitates. “I could ask her to marry me.”

They all choke on their drinks or cigars. Nanami frowns, confused by their reactions. Surprisingly, it’s Geto who speaks first.

“Look, you’re good together, it’s been a year... but...”

“But?” Haibara echoes.

“But you just had a major fight—one where she lost her job. Even if it wasn’t your fault exactly, it’s still tied to what happened.” Nanami glares at him, and Gojo jumps in.

“You can’t propose just to get her to forgive you. That’s not how it’s supposed to work.”

“Agree,” Geto and Haibara say in unison. Nanami sighs.

“You’re probably right.”

________________

You end the call with your family, giggling and finishing your glass of wine at the same time. They said the right words to reassure you, and the conversation lasted almost three hours. Kento will probably come back soon, so you slip into the bedroom to change quickly, putting on the new babydoll you bought while he was in Sendai—a black one, with lacy patterns over your breasts, almost sheer so your tattoos are visible if you squint, especially the one on your sternum. You admire yourself in the mirror, taking a few pictures, and almost don’t hear him enter the apartment. You go to him, and his eyes widen when he sees you. He doesn’t say anything, taking in your body and the babydoll while taking off his shoes and tie at the same time.

“I thought you would be asleep.”

“The call ended only ten minutes ago.” He chuckles lightly, and you smile.

“Did you have a good time with your family?”

“Not at the beginning, but it ended well. You?”

“Same thing.” He pauses, not sure if he should come closer, and you're the one who breaks the silence.

“I’m done giving you the cold shoulder. I know you didn’t miss the party on purpose, and in fact, I think it was for the best—because I’ll quit a structure that’s not treating me right, thanks to your mistake.” He nods in approval. You come even closer, slotting against his torso, your hands on his back for a cuddle while his go to your waist.

“I’m so—” You cut him off.

“I’m also done with your ‘I’m sorry’s, babe. I forgive you.” You raise your head to look at him, and he leaves a soft kiss on your lips. You sigh in bliss, finally getting attention after more than a week. He leaves pecks on your lips and you giggle, his hands caressing your waist.

“This is new,” he says, clutching the fabric.

“Bought it when you were in Sendai. Do you like it?”

“I very much like it.” You extract yourself from his grip and twirl, letting the material of the babydoll float. He snorts when the swell of your ass cheeks shows during the spin, because obviously, you’re not wearing regular panties, but a black tanga.

“Have you eaten?” Your gaze is heavy with lust and he quickly grabs your waist, pulling you against him.

“Yes.” He pauses, looking at you and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his index finger linger on your neck. “But I haven’t had dessert.”

“You haven’t?” You smirk, your hands roaming his back.

“No, because my dessert is right in front of me.” You giggle and his hands grip your thighs under your ass, making you jump into his arms. You hold on to his neck, sighing softly as Kento leaves a trail of kisses on your neck, making you shudder. He heads straight to the bedroom, placing you on the bed before unbuttoning his shirt. You look at him, one hand roaming your own body, teasing your breasts just slightly, and you let out a soft sigh. When he’s about to take off his shirt, you stand and help him, your fingertips grazing his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps that makes you smile. He pulls you closer, his hands going under your babydoll to first play with the strings of your tanga, then grope your bare ass, and you let out a low moan. His face is close to yours, lips barely touching.

“I missed you, love.”

“I missed you too. I think I’ll finally execute my plan and kill Gojo if he asks you again to leave for an entire week.” He chuckles, leaving a peck on your lips. The kisses grow heated, his hands moving from your ass to the edges of your babydoll, asking if he can take it off because “I don’t want to tear it apart,” leaving you in only your tanga while he still has his pants on. He steps back, taking in your entire body. Your face is flushed, nipples perking and glistening thanks to your piercings, your sternum tattoo on full display. You send him a pleading look, letting out a quiet whimper as he adjusts himself, then quickly removes his pants, revealing the tent pressing against his briefs. You move forward, ready to take them off, but he places a hand on your neck, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“Did you touch yourself when I was away?” Your eyes widen and you blush profusely, nodding slowly.

“Use your words, baby.”

“I-I did, yes.”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Show me what you did.” You give him another pleading look, but he guides you to the edge of the bed, taking off your tanga as he does. The wet patch makes Kento smirk as you lean back, your upper body propped on pillows while he removes his briefs. You rummage in your nightstand, quickly finding your purple bullet vibrator—the one he gifted you after the lawsuit victory—and hand him the half-empty bottle of lube. You settle again, turning on the vibrator and slightly spreading your legs, giving him a perfect view of your glistening pussy. He coats his cock in lube, letting out a grunt. You bite your lip, excitement rushing through your body as you trail the vibrator over your body, starting with your nipples. Kento’s gaze is intense as you play with your pierced nipple, your other hand cupping the other breast, rolling the bud between your fingers, whimpers escaping your lips.

His hand strokes his dick slowly, lost in the sight of your pleasure. Your legs part more, giving him an even better view of your clenching hole, and he grunts, increasing his pace. It continues like this for a moment—his hand stroking, yours teasing—until you move the vibrator to your dripping pussy, one hand still cupping your breast.

“Kento…”

“Go ahead, baby. Play with your clit.”

You nod, moving the vibrator up and down your slit, letting out moans that make Kento stroke faster. When you finally press it to your clit, the moan you let out is loud enough to wake the neighbors, and Nanami smirks. Even without penetration, the pleasure is intense, your moans echoing through the room. You adjust the intensity, trying to keep eye contact, but it’s too much—you squirm, orgasm approaching. You say his name over and over, begging him to fuck you, but he doesn’t comply, still stroking himself while watching.

“What do you think about when—shit—when you're touching yourself?”

You whimper at the question, the vibrator still working your clit. Your other hand is still rolling your nipple, playing with the piercing adorning it.

“You... I think about you.”

“Tell me.”

The vibrator shifts involuntarily and you moan louder.

“Oh shit, Kento—how good you make me feel, how skilled you are with your fingers and your cock—oh, oh!”

You jolt, ready to combust. When his thumb swipes the tip of his cock, spreading precum, you moan again.

“Please, I want it inside me—”

“Cum first and you’ll have it.”

You can barely think, but you know you’ll be rewarded if you cum. You press the vibrator harder against your clit, teasing your slit with your fingers, moans turning high-pitched. Kento knows you’re close—he moves in, spreading your legs further, slotting between them. You’re frantic, lost in the pleasure, calling his name repeatedly. He knows what you need: his free hand finds your soaked hole, sliding in two fingers. The combination of his fingers entering you and the vibrator still pressing on your bundle of nerves makes you cry out, your back arching as the knot in your stomach snaps. A gush of slick coats the sheets. Kento moves even closer, still stroking himself, and lets out a low moan as he cums—hot spurts land on your lower stomach, pubic bone, and vibrator. You both pant, trying to catch your breath, until he switches off the vibrator and tosses it aside. You look at him with half-lidded eyes.

“Babe, shit…”

“You said it. Let me clean you, love.” You nod, and he grabs tissues from the nightstand, wiping his cum from your skin.

“Would have preferred it in my mouth—” He smirks.

“Oh really?” You nod. “Not inside you?”

“Could be nice too…”

When he’s done, he leans in to kiss you, and you switch positions—he on his back, your head and half your body resting on his torso. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and you sigh softly, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

“How were the trips, by the way?”

“Boring.” You laugh.

“And your evening with the boys?”

“They scolded me first.” You laugh again.

“You can’t say you didn’t deserve it.” He nods and kisses your forehead.

“Yes. And Haibara is looking forward to meeting you.”

“Likewise. I’ll probably learn more about your teenage years. Could be fun.” He frowns and you giggle, raising your upper body to get a better look at his pouting face. “I can already picture it: an always-frowning Nanami Kento, reluctantly dragged to a party by his closest friend because said friend wanted to see his crush.” He chuckles.

“Something like that.” You kiss him, moving your body until you’re straddling him, his hands shifting to your waist while you rest a hand on his torso. He glances at your chest, tracing your sternum tattoo with his index finger, and you shudder in excitement. His touch is featherlight, sending goosebumps across your skin, your nipples hardening with the growing sensation. He takes his time outlining the tattoo before placing his hand flat on your sternum, right between your breasts. You exhale slowly.

“Let’s take some vacation.” You frown.

“You have work to do, babe.”

“I’ll take some days. You asked me to a few months ago, and I never took them.”

“And where do you want to go?”

“Okinawa seems nice.” You ponder. It’s not far from Tokyo—just a few hours by plane—so it could work. Plus, you’re about to be unemployed, so you’ll have plenty of free time. Given what happened these last few days, you know he won’t let you spend a single yen on this trip, and honestly, you’ll let him do whatever he wants because you know he wants you to forgive him fully.

“I’ve heard about it. Let’s go, then.” His hands tighten around your waist as he sits up to kiss you. You immediately part your lips for him, letting your tongues tangle. The kiss quickly turns heated as his hands roam your body, eventually caressing your ass. You mewl into his mouth, your body grinding against his, feeling his growing erection pressing right beneath you, close to your core. Between kisses, he asks if he should put on a condom, and you shake your head, rising slightly to wrap your hand around his shaft. You stroke him a few times to make sure he’s fully hard, and he quickly coats himself in lube before you align him with your entrance, slowly sinking down onto him. You both moan into each other’s mouths. When you're fully seated on him, you pause and look at him.

“Feels so good, Ken—” His grip on your ass tightens, making you whimper.

“Yeah? Feels good for me too, baby. Let me hear how good it feels,” he says, thrusting from beneath. Your hands grip his shoulders as you match his pace, and you quickly realize neither of you will last long. Your moans echo in the bedroom, the sound of skin slapping becoming louder. When he finally hits your G-spot, you throw your head back, whining about how good it feels, how much you love him, pleading for him to come with you. You speed up, using his shoulders for leverage, your bodies flush against each other. Your clit brushes against his pubic bone with every thrust, and the combination of that friction, his deep thrusts, his sounds, and his gaze makes you clench around him. You cry out as your orgasm hits, your release coating him and his thighs, and his own release follows—long, hot spurts filling you deep. You both pant, your ears filled with nothing but your shared breath while he strokes your back, soothing you.

Needless to say, you don’t leave the apartment until Monday afternoon—and even Ino is baffled when he sees you: hair still damp from the shower you took 15 minutes ago (because obviously, you were moaning into your pillow post-lunch while Kento pounded into you from behind, his chest pressed to your back, hands massaging your overstimulated tits), lips swollen, a line of hickeys on each side of your neck. Truly embarrassing.

“You look like—”

“Like I had sex less than an hour ago, I know.” Ino chokes on his own spit but lets you into his apartment. You hand him the bottle of wine you bought on the way over, and he pours two glasses while you start telling him everything that happened over the last few days. As usual, he listens, not minding when you slip into English because it’s too hard to explain everything in Japanese. When you’re finished, you take a long sip of wine.

“Damn, Nanami-san has stamina.” You raise an eyebrow.

“That’s all you noticed?”

“Obviously not, Boo. But he’s right about Higuruma-san, you saw it last summer. I already told you how I felt about that school, and you’re good—you’ll find a better one in no time.” You blush slightly. “When’s your meeting with the board?”

“This Friday.”

“I see. Need moral support?” You shake your head.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry. But I appreciate it, ‘Kuma.” You walk over to the window and light a cigarette while he follows. You keep chatting, and the two of you end up laughing loudly as you tell him about the time you caught a colleague screwing her lover in a classroom, thinking no one was around.

“I swear, he’s got the smallest dick I’ve ever seen. And she was clearly faking it.” You wipe tears from your eyes while Ino chokes on his cigarette.

“And he was the ex of another coworker?” You nod. “God, I wish I’d seen their faces when you told them that in the corridor.”

“You should’ve. They looked like gaping fish.” Ino erupts into laughter and you join in, only cut off by your phone ringing. It’s Higuruma—he wants to meet tomorrow morning to prepare your defense. You quickly agree to a 9:00 a.m. meeting in his office.

________________________

On Friday morning, you’re already waiting at the school’s entrance and bow when he arrives, his hair slightly disheveled from the wind. You quickly review what’s going to happen and then sit where you’re told. The board informs you of your dismissal due to the mistake from last week, and you smirk slightly as Higuruma begins to speak, calmly laying out his arguments. The principal pales—clearly realizing Nanami told the truth—and some board members shift uncomfortably in their seats. When he’s done, the principal asks you and Higuruma to step outside so the board can deliberate. In the hallway, Higuruma remains confident.

“They know they’ll lose if we sue. Like I said Tuesday, they’ll offer a big payout. I’ll negotiate until I get the number I want.” You nod, and he continues his explanation until a secretary comes to fetch you.

Back in the room, tension hangs thick in the air. One board member begins the discussion, and the back-and-forth with Higuruma continues until a deal is struck: 2.5 million yen if you don’t sue, and in return, you resign without further notice. Since that’s exactly the plan you two had, Higuruma answers for you and finalizes the agreement. You spend some time in another room reviewing and signing the papers after he checks them, and by 2:00 p.m., you’re leaving the school alongside your lawyer.

“I think you’ll be fine for a while, Miss. You don’t even need to look for a job immediately.” You chuckle.

“I wish I could do that, but I’m on a work visa. If I don’t find a job soon, the embassy might just escort me to the airport.”

“I see. There are other visa options, you know.”

“Like?”

“Like a spouse visa.” You blush head to toe. “That process is a lot easier than a working visa. And you’d be free to work too.”

“I—I’ll think about it.” You bow deeply, thanking him again before he leaves for his car. On your way home in the Uber, you reflect: you know Kento wants to marry you, but he’s never officially proposed. Would you really get married just to stay in Japan? Definitely not. You want it to mean more.

While you’re still thinking, your phone rings. An unknown number. It’s a school near Kento’s place. They’re looking for a part-time teacher and liked your profile. You schedule an interview for Monday morning and arrive home beaming.

Champagne—and your boyfriend—are waiting. You tell him everything that happened, skipping the part about your conversation with Higuruma. You celebrate together, and later, he takes you out to dinner.

You’re finally free from a toxic work environment, and a new opportunity is already knocking. You’ll get to stay in Japan with the man you love—and even after paying Higuruma’s insane fees, your bank account is looking just fine.

Chapter Text

___________________

If someone were to enter the bedroom at this exact moment, they would see your head and shoulders—one arm under your pillow and large hands covering your chest—the rest of your body disappearing beneath the white sheet. Something unusual would be the mass under the sheet, covering your lower body. The sounds would also betray what you’re currently doing.

It’s 7:00 a.m., and you’re not in Tokyo but in Okinawa, an island in the south of Japan known for its beaches and five-star hotels. Your new job is going very well, and since it’s the summer holidays, Kento took more days off than usual. You’re on your first trip of the break—the second one will be Malaysia, in two weeks. As predicted, you didn’t pay for anything yet, even if you wanted to: you barely managed to negotiate paying for a few restaurants or activities, whether in Okinawa or Malaysia, arguing that you have savings from your previous job and would rather spend it on the both of you. Kento explained this was his first-anniversary gift and the apology trip he’d promised you. The thing was: you didn’t find an equivalent gift at the time. Lingerie was nice, but you bought it regularly-and so did he. Same for sex toys. He didn’t need anything else, he said. Still, you gifted him a pair of loafers, two ties, and cufflinks, and he absolutely loved everything. You were still a bit uncomfortable, knowing the value didn’t match the trips, but he quickly reassured you: the fact that you gave him anything at all was already more than enough.

Still, it’s 7:00 a.m., and fortunately, no one is about to enter your hotel room, because you’re clearly in no position to answer the door. Your head is thrown back against the pillow, one hand gripping it while the other tangles in Kento’s hair, lightly pulling at the roots. He raises his head, peeking out from under the sheet, looking lovingly at your disheveled face. His mouth and chin are glistening with your slick, and you whine at the loss of his tongue on your clit.

“What is it, baby?”

“Want you…” you murmur. He raises an eyebrow.

“You have me.” You shake your head.

“Want your cock…” He smirks at your pouting face, his hands settling on your waist and squeezing slightly.

“You’ll have it if you cum. Cum on my face and I’ll give it to you.”

You nod slowly, and he kisses your sternum before lowering his face to your pussy, disappearing again under the sheets. You can’t see him playing with you, only rely on the sensations. His tongue flicks your clit and you start moaning again, both your hands under the pillow while his find their way to your breasts, squeezing just enough to make you squirm. As usual, his tongue works magic on your core-teasing your hole, flicking your clit-but he quickly decides it’s not enough. He raises his body a little, the satin sheet slipping down his back to just above his ass. He lifts your legs, placing them on his shoulders before diving back between them. The new angle makes you cry out-his lips sucking on your clit, his hands massaging your breasts, making your head spin.

You know the window is open, offering a free audio show to the neighbors, but you can’t bring yourself to care. His tongue prods your entrance. You close your eyes, overwhelmed by the sensations.

“Yes, Ken, gonna come, please, let me-”

Kento grunts, the vibration making you jolt, grinding your pussy against his face. As you warn him you’re close, his fingers move to your pierced buds, rolling them gently with his thumbs, and you’re going to lose it-you know it. One of your hands covers his, the other tangles again in his hair. Your eyes open and meet his, and the intensity of his gaze tips you over the edge. Your release snaps without warning. You feel your slick gush out, coating his face as he continues licking, unwilling to waste a drop. Your moans are high-pitched and desperate; it seems he won’t stop until you tell him to.

Between breathy moans, you think you hear something at the door, but you don’t pay much attention. Maybe someone forgot their room number and knocked on the wrong door? The sound fades for a moment, and you start to drift back into pleasure-but then the knocking starts again.

“Babe, babe, someone’s knocking-oh fuck.” You’re still cumming, slowly coming down from your high, but he doesn’t seem to hear you. Two of his fingers prod your entrance again, while his tongue draws figure eights on your clit, focused on coaxing a second orgasm from you. You whine but keep trying to talk.

“Babe, it could-oh!-be important-”

He finally raises his head, pulling back his fingers. You whimper at the loss.

“Fine, I’ll go. But it better be, I was doing something.”

You snort, and he cups your cheek before sliding out of bed. You watch his ass appreciatively as he quickly ties on a robe and walks toward the door. In the mirror, you can see him open it and find himself face-to-face with a woman. She’s clearly younger than you, wearing the tiniest crop-top you’ve ever seen-actually, that’s not true; you own one that’s even smaller, though you don’t wear it outside your apartment- shorts and heels. Her voice is high-pitched when she speaks to your boyfriend, and you frown instantly.

“Hi, nice to meet you! I’m Takahashi Kira!”

“Nanami. What do you want?” She blushes slightly, and your frown deepens. Should you go to the door to make it clear he’s not alone?

“I was wondering if you had some spare sunscreen. See, I forgot mine, and I’d hate to get sunmarks- it would be so embarrassing.”

That’s your cue. You slip out of bed as silently as possible, grabbing your babydoll from the floor-right where Kento threw it less than an hour ago-and slipping it on to cover yourself. While you dress quickly, you hear his response.

“Takahashi-san, this is a five-star hotel. Surely you can ask the front desk for some, right?”

She chuckles, flashing him a sultry smile that makes you want to gag.

“Please, Kira or Kira-chan is fine!” Kento’s still frowning, clearly annoyed by her tone, but she continues undeterred. “I know, but you were closer. I heard some muffled noises and thought, ‘Why not ask my charming neighbor before going all the way to reception?’”

He nearly laughs in her face. If she was close enough to hear, then she definitely knows those “muffled noises” weren’t anything innocent. Unless she’s oblivious to the point of not understanding these noises were cries of pleasure coming from a woman’s mouth.

“I’m actually busy. And I don’t have any spare sunscreen to give you.” His tone is sharp-the same one he uses in meetings when something isn’t done right. You’ve heard it during conference calls, and had to relocate to the living room because the authoritative edge was, frankly, hot as hell.

“Busy? But you’re on holiday! What could you possibly be busy with on such a lovely island?”

“With me, actually.”

Her eyes widen when she sees you. Thankfully, the babydoll you’re wearing isn’t the slutty one you bought when he was in Sendai-it’s tame enough to pass for decent. “Is there anything else you need?”

Looking at you, her demeanor shifts, and she switches to English-clearly assuming Kento won’t understand.

“He was busy with you?”

You chuckle dryly, glancing at your boyfriend. He’s looking at her like she’s a cockroach in his spotless kitchen-he’s obsessive about cleanliness.

“Absolutely.”

“So… are you like, an escort or something?” You burst out laughing.

“We prefer the term sugar baby, actually.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kento cover his mouth with his hand, trying not to laugh. Her response only fuels your amusement.

“And you’re okay with being a whore?”

“Let me explain.” You smile sweetly. “He’s got a big dick, goes to the gym, carries me when he fucks me standing. He’s handsome, smart, rich, interesting, generous, eats pussy like a god, buys me things I don’t even ask for, has the stamina of an athlete, and makes my daily life feel like a dream. So yes, I’m absolutely okay being a whore, slut, escort-whatever you want to call it. Even though I’m actually his girlfriend, not a prostitute. Now, if you’ll excuse us, he was in the middle of eating me out, and you robbed me of two orgasms in a row. So please leave-he hates unfinished work. Right, babe?”

His hand glides over your ass, pressing gently as you smirk. Kento answers in English, just to hammer the point home.

“Absolutely. Now go to reception-and don’t bother us again.”

Kira’s expression could be framed: mouth agape, eyes wide, frozen in disbelief. Just before Kento pulls the door shut, his hand at your waist, you speak again-this time in Japanese.

“Oh, and by the way, you’ve got a toothpaste stain on your crop top, Kira-chan.”

Kento bursts out laughing as he shuts the door in her face. You smile at him, clearly pleased with yourself. You can’t hear her anymore, but she’s probably fuming on the other side. You glance back at your boyfriend over your shoulder as you take off your babydoll. He crosses the room much faster than expected, making you squeak when he grabs your waist and pulls you against his chest, peppering kisses along your neck that make you giggle. One of your hands slips to the back of his neck.

“Baby-”

“Nah. I’m your sugar baby.” He chuckles, and you continue, thinking aloud. “Does that mean you’re my sugar daddy?”

“With what you just told her? I kinda am.”

Kento’s fingers trail over your belly, resting there as he continues, “Thanks for the compliments, by the way. I never thought you’d be that bold in front of a stranger.” You smile.

“Well, it’s all true, babe. But just so you know, I don’t have a daddy kink, so I’m not calling you that.”

His laugh tickles your neck, and you laugh along with him.

“Thank goodness.”

Your laughter turns to giggles as he turns you around and lifts you back onto the bed. After the interruption, he finally gives you that second orgasm, eating you out again before throwing your legs over his shoulders and fucking you in a deep, mating press that leaves you gushing onto the soft sheets.

The rest of the morning is slow. You nap for a while, then head into the shower while Kento eats breakfast and reads on your enormous balcony. For lunch, you grab some yakisoba and eat on one of the hotel’s terraces before changing into swimsuits and heading to one of the pools. Each pool has an open bar and is tattoo-friendly-an important consideration now that you’re traveling with him.

Kento’s still not entirely comfortable with the sight of Japanese men covered in tattoos-usually associated with the yakuza-lounging around the pool. But he says nothing. He’s just glad you’re enjoying yourself on this well-deserved vacation. You’re tanning on your sunbed, AirPods in, while he finishes his book next to you. You don’t notice the stares you’re getting from the tattooed men, eyes closed behind your sunglasses. But Nanami notices-and he’s not pleased.

When one of the men points at you-less than subtly-and makes a comment to his friend, who lowers his sunglasses to get a better look at your body, Nanami tsks. Your dark red swimsuit clings to your chest-his favorite. Your sternum tattoo-his tattoo-is on full display. You sense the shift in his mood and glance at him, then remove your earbuds and sunglasses.

“Ken, is everything alright?”

“Mmh.” You frown, pause your music, and switch to English.

“What is it?”

“They’re looking at you. Those guys, under the red sunshade.” You squint, trying to understand, and glance at the men whose gazes are fixed on you.

“Did I leave a stain somewhere? I’m not on my period yet, but-”

“Baby, they’re checking you out.” You blush, answering with a soft, “Oh.” From what you can tell, they’re clearly older than Kento and their stares make you uncomfortable. You curse in your native language, and Kento snorts.

“Do you want me to say something to them?”

“No, leave them be. They can check me out as much as they want. I’m with you, and no one else. But… can we go to the pool?”

“Sure, love. Let’s go.” He stands and takes your hand, guiding you into the warm water. You wade in for a bit before swimming alongside him. Once again, you’re the only foreigner here, but you’ve gotten used to that.

You spend some time just enjoying the warmth of the pool, the sun, and the rare quiet-the hotel being adults-only means no children running or crying while you try to relax. Eventually, you settle against one of the pool walls, and he joins you, towering above. You look up at him over your sunglasses.

“Are they still looking at us?”

“Baby, they’re looking at you, not at us.” You frown.

“They’re probably wondering why I’m with you…” Nanami glances at you, confused. “Maybe they think you’re paying for my services.”

“What is that nonsense?”

“You heard that girl this morning. She thinks I’m an escort-because I’m a foreigner and you’re a rich Japanese man.” You lower your head, embarrassed. Usually, you don’t care what people think, but ever since the fallout with your former colleagues, your self-esteem’s taken a hit. You’re not as confident as you used to be.

“Love, look at me.” You lift your head and meet his eyes as he cups your cheek gently. “If necessary, I’ll go find her room and tell her exactly who you are-how wonderful you are as my girlfriend, not an escort. How you take such good care of me, of us, without ever asking for anything in return. How we argue about money because you don’t want to take advantage of mine. The fact that you think so little of yourself really saddens me. I should have said something to her this morning-she was completely out of line. I’m so sorry, my love.”

You exhale slowly, letting his words sink in. You know you’re strong, but sometimes, dark thoughts resurface, and they’re hard on your mental health. You’re about to respond-say that it’s okay-when a high-pitched voice sings out above you.

“Girls! Isn’t this pool amazing? Look at that open bar!”

“You’re so right, Kira! Let’s have some shots!”

You and Kento share a look, raising your eyebrows before erupting into laughter.

“Speak of the devil.”

“Thank you, Kento. Really. And it’s fine, you couldn’t have known what she’d say to me when I opened that door.” You pause as he kisses your lips. You smile against his mouth as his hands wander across your body, settling at your waist before he lifts you up to sit on the low wall. You giggle as he rests his head on your thighs, hands wrapped around your waist, and you cup his cheek.

“I wanted to go get a drink, but there’s no way I’m heading over there now.”

“Want me to get something for you?”

You shake your head.

“Nah, I prefer you right here.” You thread your fingers through his hair, and he sighs softly. The conversation drifts to another topic, full of giggles and light teasing, until he eventually gets up to fetch drinks.

While he’s gone, you dry yourself off with a towel, draw the curtains on the massive sunbed, and begin applying sunscreen to your tattoos. It usually takes a while, and you start with your arms-just as you hear Kira and her friends’ voices drifting over from near the pool.

“I cannot believe he didn’t want me, a Japanese woman. Have you seen her?”

A second voice chimes in, more hesitant. “You can’t say she isn’t pretty, Kira…”

“Those tattoos of hers, ugh. So ugly. She looks like a female yakuza.”

You freeze. You’re used to people not liking your tattoos-especially in Japan, where they’re still taboo-but hearing such venom from another woman shakes you. It makes you question the idea of female solidarity. A third voice joins in.

“What if she is?”

“Her? A yakuza?”

“Well… she’s covered in tattoos and with a Japanese guy. Maybe they are.”

You snort and hush Kento when he returns, quietly closing the last curtain behind him.

“Shh… Listen.”

The girls continue chatting. The pool is nearly empty now.

“Maybe that’s why she told you she was his sugar baby. Maybe it’s their cover.”

Kento snorts, and you bury your face in his arm, giggling as quietly as you can.

“Maybe they’ll kidnap you for saying things like that.”

“Don’t be stupid, Yachi.”

“Maybe they’ll make you apologize to her.”

There’s a pause, then Kento leans close and murmurs:

“Let me apply your sunscreen, love.”

You nod. The curtains on your massive sunbed are closed, swaying lightly in the breeze. Almost nothing can be seen from the outside, so you take advantage of the privacy and remove your swim top before lying on your front. You feel his fingertips tracing your spine, making you shiver, and then he spreads sunscreen over your tattoos, your sides, and along your back. The contrast between your hot skin and the cold lotion, combined with the motion of his fingers, sends more shivers through you. Your body squirms under his touch.

Soft sighs escape your lips as his hands trail along the sides of your breasts. He takes his time, exploring your skin-pressing into your spine, your waist, your sides-until you begin to relax, smiling gently.

When he finishes, he asks you to turn over. You comply, goosebumps covering your skin, your nipples already erect, piercings catching the light. He smirks and squeezes more sunscreen onto his fingers, moving them in slow, deliberate circles across your sternum, protecting your latest tattoo-the leaves and peony inspired by something he once said. His fingers glide beneath your breasts, making you squirm again, your body seeking more of his touch. When he pulls his hands away, a small noise of protest slips from your lips.

“Close your eyes, baby, and relax.”

You nod, eyes closed, smiling as his hands return to gently protect the ink beneath your breasts. Then, nothing. No touch, just the rustling of his hands rummaging through his beach bag. You don’t dare open your eyes. You wait.

Then, a few drops of liquid land on your collarbones and chest, making you jolt.

“Wha-”

“Shh…” He cups your cheek and you lean into it, eyes still shut. “I told you to relax, love. That’s why we’re here, right?”

You nod again.

“Open your eyes now.”

When you do, he’s smiling. Your eyes widen when you see what he’s holding: a bottle of massage oil. He told you he bought a new one a few weeks ago, but you never had time to try it properly, only smelled it through the cap.

He lets a few more drops fall, watching as they trail between your breasts and over your nipples before setting the bottle aside. Then he straddles you, careful not to crush you, and you reach up to cup his cheek.

“Try to keep it quiet, love. Some ladies might hear you if you don’t.”

Your eyes widen, and he smirks, placing a kiss on your hand before his own hands return to your collarbones and shoulders. You let out a contented sigh, letting him work his magic on you. His hands trail slowly downward to your breasts, cupping them gently. He massages the swell of them, teasing just enough to make your body writhe beneath him. His hands move back to your shoulders and then down again, purposely avoiding where you need him most. You let out a low whine.

“Ken-”

He hums, then flattens his palms over your breasts, rubbing your nipples with slow, deliberate pressure. You whimper, and he shushes you with a kiss, reminding you to stay quiet. You scrunch your nose-easier said than done, especially with the way he’s been teasing you.

When his thumbs finally brush your nipples, slick with oil, a low moan almost escapes you. You slap your hand over your mouth just in time.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that. How do you feel?”

“S’good, babe. Want more…”

He raises an eyebrow, then pinches your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, rolling gently. You moan, muffled behind your hand, squirming beneath him. He hasn’t even kissed you properly yet, and you're already craving more.

You try to remove your hand from your mouth slowly, hoping to keep the sounds in, but whines and soft mewls still slip out, your body overwhelmed by his touch. He shifts slightly, letting you part your legs so he can slot between them. He pushes your swimsuit aside and gazes at the sight before him: your slick dripping onto the sunbed.

“Damn it, baby…”

“Please, Ken… need more…” Your voice is barely a whisper. You’re not even sure he hears you-his gaze is locked on your swollen folds, glistening wet. He traces your slit with one finger and you can’t help it: a moan escapes, louder than you intended.

You both freeze when you hear voices just outside the curtains.

“What was that noise?”

“A cat?”

“A cat? In this hotel?” They pause as Kento resumes his slow, deliberate movements.

“We should ask if we can feed it!”

You whimper again, muffling the sound with your hand as his fingers spread you open, exposing your clit to the cool air.

“Shit, baby. I want to eat you out, but I can’t do that here.” His voice is low, restrained, but full of want. The view in front of him is too much-your half-lidded eyes, your parted lips, your oiled skin, nipples perked and glistening, your pussy dripping. He watches your entrance clench around nothing and lets out a groan. His hand is still on you, unmoving.

“What should I do, love?”

You can barely think, let alone speak. Everything is too much. He flicks your clit with his thumb and you let out a loud moan, eyes wide.

“Can’t stay silent, Ken-”

“That was definitely not a cat, Yachi.” Kira pauses. You both go still, your mouth agape.

“That’s a woman.”

“Babe… let’s go to the hotel room, please-” He pauses too, still staring at you while voices shuffle between the curtained beds nearby. You grip his forearm, desperate.

“Don’t want them to hear me, Kento, please…”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this-uncertain, speechless, his eyes devouring your body like you're an artwork too precious to touch. Is this what they call “pussy-drunk”?

Finally, after several long seconds, he blinks and nods.

“O-okay, love, let’s go.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You grab your dress, forgetting your swim top in the beach bag, while Kento hurriedly pulls on his shorts-his hard-on clearly visible without it-and tosses your things together, leaving the lukewarm cocktails behind. When you part the bed curtains, no one’s in sight, and you almost run to the hotel lobby, your hand tightly tangled in Nanami’s.

While waiting for the elevator, he presses his chest against your back, and you can definitely feel his erection poking at your lower back. His hand sneaks around your belly, reaching for your breast, and you whimper.

“Babe, please… N-not here.” You catch his hand just as it’s about to slip into your V-neckline and guide it down to your stomach instead. A voice suddenly chimes next to you.

“Nanami-san! What a coincidence!”

Her high-pitched voice makes you wince, and you feel your boyfriend stiffen behind you, remaining silent.

“We're going to a beach party in a bit. Want to drop your things off and join us?” That bitch. You're about to respond, but Kento beats you to it.

“The audacity. My girlfriend wasn’t clear enough this morning?” You turn your head to see Kira and her friends. They look mortified, except Kira, who raises her chin, not even sparing you a glance.

“Well, if she’s tired, she can stay in the room while you come with us, right? I promise you a night to remember.”

Four snorts echo through the nearly empty lobby. You lace your fingers with your boyfriend’s, but say nothing.

“She’s not tired at all,” Kento replies coldly. “And let me make this clear: we are in a relationship. There is no way I’ll go with you, so get that out of your head. I’m not interested in your ‘beach parties,’ or in applying sunscreen, or in whatever excuse you’ll use to talk to me. Don’t approach us again. Otherwise, I will find a way to have you removed from this hotel. Am I clear?”

She tries to speak, but he cuts her off again.

“Your behavior is disgusting. You insulted my girlfriend because you didn’t like that I wasn’t interested. She should’ve punched you in the face for what you said this morning-maybe you would’ve understood better.”

Your eyes widen-not at his words, but because he’s right. You probably should have done that. The elevator dings and you move to enter, but he holds you back.

“Apologize to my girlfriend.”

Gasps erupt from her friends as Kira frowns. Even your own eyes widen at his demand.

“You called her an escort or a prostitute just because you couldn't handle rejection. She is the most caring, beautiful, open-minded, intelligent, and generous person I know. I don’t know why I even have to say this to you, but I’m proud to call her mine. Let me assure you if you don’t apologize right now, we’ll file a harassment complaint and have you removed tonight.”

You, Kira, and her friends all stare at him in shock. One of them nudges Kira and mutters:

“Come on, Kira. We paid a fortune for this hotel… You’ll find someone else.”

The elevator closes, but you remain in place, Kento’s arm firmly around your waist. Kira sighs loudly.

“Okay… I’m sorry.” She doesn’t even look at you, which pisses Nanami off further.

“For what? Do we need to teach you how to apologize properly?”

“I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have said that to you. I was jealous. It was inappropriate. Just let us stay at the hotel. I won’t bother you again.”

Another elevator opens. Kento guides you inside. As the doors close, he gives one final warning.

“You better not.” Their heads drop. When the elevator doors finally shut, you turn abruptly to face your boyfriend, grabbing the back of his neck. He leans in, and you crash your lips against his, tongue sliding into his mouth as his hands explore your body. You’re dizzy, his words still echoing in your mind, his hands slipping beneath your dress to knead your ass until you moan into his mouth. He pulls back just as the doors open onto your floor.

“I don’t think I can wait, baby. Are you ready?”

You nod frantically, and he leads you quickly to your suite. The door has barely closed, the bags carelessly thrown on the floor as your dress comes off, leaving you in just your bikini bottoms. You tug at his shorts while guiding him toward the living room, his fingers untying the last scrap of fabric on your body. It falls to the floor, followed by his swim trunks, his erection springing free.

You stroke him slowly, watching his reactions while he massages your breasts, until your patience snaps. You slip from his grip, climbing onto the couch on your hands and knees, looking over your shoulder with a sultry gaze.

“Ken…”

He grunts, wrapping his hand around his shaft.

“Tell me, baby. I want to hear you.”

You lower your upper body onto the cushions, spreading your folds with one hand. You can feel your slick on your fingertips and mewl softly.

“Want my perfect boyfriend to fuck me…” He smirks. 

“Really? How badly do you want it?” He kneels behind you, positioning himself, and purposefully rubs his tip against your clit. You jolt.

“So bad, babe. Please put it in, I’m ready, I-”

He doesn’t let you finish. He pushes in slowly, his tip breaching your entrance, and you whine, gripping the couch. He didn’t prepare you, and it stings a little-but it feels so good, you don’t care. When he finally bottoms out, your moan is muffled by the pillow. He pauses as he sees your hands gripping the pillow tightly.

“I should’ve prepped you. Does it hurt?” You shake your head, glancing back.

“It’s fine, Kento. I swear. I want it rough.”

His grip tightens on your waist, and you moan in encouragement. He doesn’t need more convincing. He begins to thrust, his tip brushing your G-spot with every movement. You meet his rhythm as best you can, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing around the room. Your moans fill the air alongside his erratic breathing.

“Baby, we’re not-shit-leaving this room tonight.”

One of his hands moves to your clit, rubbing it firmly. The knot in your stomach unravels before you can warn him. Your cry is barely muffled by the pillow as your walls tighten around him. He follows just moments later, thrusting deep as he groans, riding his orgasm. You both pant, spent. Your tears and drool soak the pillow beneath you. Slowly, your grip on it loosens, and you turn your head to look at him. His gaze is so full of intensity it makes you smile. He smiles back.

“Can I pull out?”

You nod, and as he withdraws, your body collapses onto the couch. You reach out weakly, and he lies down, pulling you on top of him, his hand stroking your back.

You simply stare at each other, saying nothing, until you break the comfortable silence.

“Should I cancel our reservation for tonight?” His hand, which had been stroking your back, moves up to your hair, smoothing it gently.

“You should, because I don’t think you’ll be able to walk tonight, baby.” You blush from head to toe and swat at him as he chuckles. You decide not to comment on his boldness and instead raise your head to look at him better.

“Thank you for earlier… You didn’t have to ask her to apologize.” He frowns.

“Of course I had to. It’s not because you’re a foreigner that you don’t deserve respect. She crossed the line.” You nod and rest your head in the crook of his neck, mumbling a soft “I love you,” which makes his hand tighten on your waist.

“I love you too, baby. Never forget how wonderful you are.” You nod again, eyes closing as his hand traces soft patterns on your back, slowly sliding down to your butt and giving it a light squeeze. You gasp, feeling his other hand travel to the side of your breast, before you shift to straddle him, your hands on his torso for balance.

His hands grip your waist, his gaze heated and expectant as you grind ever so slightly against his hardening cock. Your slick-mixed with his cum-slowly drips onto his shaft, and you both moan at the sensation. Nanami's hands move up to cup your breasts, rolling your nipples and teasing your piercings until your moans echo in the room, your hips still rocking against him.

But your boyfriend isn’t satisfied with just that. He sits up, grabs your waist, and suddenly stands. You let out a surprised yelp, caught off guard, your legs wrapping instinctively around his back. His hands grope your ass as he carries you outside to the sunbed on the terrace-naked as the day you were born. He lays you down and positions himself between your parted legs.

“I’m going to take you right here, baby. Do you want that?” You nod frantically, your hand reaching down to spread your folds, but he brushes it away, doing it himself. The cool air brushing against your clit makes you whimper.

“Babe, please, I want it-” He doesn’t make you wait. Kneeling, he grabs your thighs, rests your legs on his shoulders, and in one smooth motion, he’s buried deep inside you. Your cries of pleasure are loud and unrestrained-neither of you cares who hears. He makes you come twice on the terrace before filling you up, then carries you to the outdoor shower to wash your body, taking the opportunity to eat you out again. Your legs are trembling by the end, and you beg him for a break.

After a delicious room service dinner, you slip into the lingerie set he requested: a dark green ensemble complete with a garter belt. You give him a little show until he bends you over against the wall, taking you right there-with the lingerie still on, and his briefs barely pushed down his thighs. You end up gushing all over his legs, your slick dripping onto the pristine floor.

By nightfall, you can barely remember your name-or even where you are-because he seems determined to break in every part of the hotel suite: the bathroom, the terrace, the living room, the bedroom, even the tiny kitchen near the entrance.

To finish off the sex marathon, he takes his time with you in missionary-watching your every reaction, whispering praise and affection. His gaze is so tender, his words so comforting, that you end up crying as you come for the last time, utterly spent and floating on cloud nine. You’re still softly sobbing as he pulls out after his own release, his cum dripping onto the sheets. Nanami gently wipes your tears with his fingers, murmuring soothing words as you look at him with nothing but adoration.

Needless to say, you’re barely able to walk the next morning and have to cancel the boat trip you had booked for the afternoon.