a. @lostwithinpudding - Tumblr Blog

miu miu ss08 teacup heels

random but toji definitely torments you with his stubble. it’s not often that he lets it grow, usually pretty quick to shave it down, but whenever he gets a little lazy with it he becomes downright evil.

mostly because he enjoys the way you squeal when the rough texture brushes over your skin. it starts off as an accident, just an honest reaction when you come home one night and he presses a chaste kiss to your throat. he definitely does not expect the way you jump and swat at him, complaining about how his beard is too scratchy and that it tickles.

you can’t blame him for using it to his advantage.

so now whenever he notices that his stubble has gotten a little rough you bet he’s gonna be chasing you around, lips tugging into his trademark smirk as he hears your peals of laughter. it’s a like a game—see how quick he can get his hands on you.

and when he inevitably does you’re already begging over your laughs, going “oh god toji please don’t—!”

but he’s already grabbing your wrist and rubbing it across his chin, hearing the amused whines and complaints as you finally accept defeat. he only chuckles when you call him names and say he’s the worst and such, eagerly diving for your cheek and your neck to be as obnoxious as possible.

and on the other hand, you have your own fun—whenever he shaves you’re always bouncing around him and reaching for his cheeks, eager to feel the silky smooth skin under your palms. and he can only sigh indulgently, making a show out of rolling his eyes dramatically but still taking your palms and pressing them to his jaw.

you laugh and gush over how soft it is and he just shakes his head, lips pulling into a wry smirk as he bends down to let you do whatever you’d like.

“see you’re so soft, toji!” you giggle, smushing his cheeks between your palms and he just scoffs—amused.

“yeah yeah, whatever,” he grunts, making a move to playfully bite at your fingers. “i’ll get y’next time.”

“dare you to try,” you stick your tongue out at him, digging your fingers into his cheeks so that his lips are pouting. you can see the challenge settle into his eyes.

of course, he gets you back later, stubble scraping over your skin as soon as he’s able to.

and funnily enough, he gets so used to it that he starts doing it to the other sweet baby that enters his life.

“oh great,” you laugh, gently smacking his bicep as he presses closer to your body. “at least leave him out of this.”

“impossible,” toji grins, letting his chin brush over chubby fingers. “he needs to learn early.”

little baby megumi squeals from where he’s perched on toji’s chest, arms flapping at the ticklish sensation. you chuckle, reaching out to drag a finger over his chubby cheeks, to which he just babbles.

“learn that you’re a demon?” you ask sarcastically, and toji flashes you a canine smirk. he turns his head to drag his chin over your shoulder, smiling broader at your squeal.

“sure, let’s go with that.”

emmyrosee

I love found family older brother sukuna, toddler Yuji, and reader! I can totally see reader and Yuji doing face masks together for fun, and forcing sukuna to join, which he begrudgingly does and serectly enjoys it

“No. Not fucking happening.”

“Come onnnn!” You whine, shaking the face mask gently in excitement. “What doesn’t sound fun about watching Encanto, doing a face mask and eating grapes?”

“The whole watching Encanto, doing a face mask and eating grapes thing,” he grumbles. On the couch, yuuji moves to perch his elbows on the armrest and watch the interaction, the panda face mask on his cheeks cut slightly to fit his small jaw and head. Sukuna cocks a brow and pulls a face, “and they’re animal face masks? Fucking pass.”

You sigh softly, then you turn to his little brother and scoop him in your arms, and sukuna quirks a brow, “the fuck are you doing?”

“Ready yuuji?”

“Weady,” the child replies.

Sukuna now furrows his brows in annoyance, “don’t you fucking dare-“

It’s too late. You and his brother flash Sukuna, a man covered in tattoos and piercings and the worst vocabulary known to man, the biggest set of puppy eyes, pleading him to cave and spend the night with you both. He winces from the sheer force of your pouty eyes, unable to look away completely but desperately wanting to. “Don’t give me that look, freaks. It’s not going to work.”

“Pwease, ‘kuna?” Yuuji whimpers, and you blink up at him and jut out your lower lip. Sukuna feels himself crumbling, his reserve being demolished, and he groans and looks up to the sky, looking for patience.

“Yeah,” you whine. “Please, Sukuna?”

“For fucks sake, stop looking at me like that, I’ll fucking watch your stupid movie and do a damn mask, fuck,” he snarls, gripping the face mask from your hand and leaving you and yuuji to giggle and high five in victory. “I spoil the fuck out of you both, you know that right?”

“Yes,” you nod, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I’m going to start the movie, you go put on your mask.”

The mask in question- printed into the animal of a frog- is slippery and cold, and sukuna gags as he slaps it on his face, grumbling at the sensation. He hears the beginning of the movie and makes his way back out to you and his brother, the latter sitting on your lap with a bowl of grapes between his legs. Sukuna sits next to you with a soft groan, his arm instinctively tossing around you.

When you burrow into his side, he can’t fight the smile that eases over his cheeks as he digs his hand into the bowl of grapes, feeding himself the handful and letting the serum of the face mask warm up on his cheeks.

“I’m glad you caved,” you whisper, and he hums back.

Secretly, although he’d rather stub his toe by force than say it, he’s glad he did, too.

pupkashi

a/n: i wrote this cracked off two Celsius’ at 5 am the morning of my genetics final ,, enjoy some post finals comfort !

masterlist

thinking abt bf!satoru who buys you energy drinks and stays up playing video games while you study because he doesn’t want you studying so late at night alone :(

he’s falling asleep halfway through a fifa match, only waking up when you accidentally hit him in the face with a blanket you were putting on him

“what time is it?” he mumbles, sitting up and turning off the gaming console, watching as you sit back down in your desk chair, rubbing your eyes and looking over notes.

“3:28,” you reply, you can hear his frown as he makes his way over to you.

he’ll coax you into a nap, promising to wake you up at 6 so you can study again. you give in after a couple feathery kisses and lulling whispers, smiling when satoru carries you to bed like a hurt baby bird.

chuuyasboots

cowboy!nanami who’s always been good with his hands. he needs to be, for most of the work he does, but sometimes you find that his skill manifests in unexpected ways.

for example, when the two of you are enjoying a picnic out in the field, you see him weaving flowers together to create a crown. it’s gorgeous already—flowers picked from the garden behind his home, his large fingers handily weaving the stems together without damaging any of the petals.

it doesn’t even seem like he’s too focused on it. as he works, he’s still talking to you, listening intently to whatever you’re saying, and letting you feed him bites of cheese or meat or whatever else he’d packed earlier.

when he’s done, he looks it over once before placing it on your head. your cheeks heat up when he looks at you now, his eyes full of adoration that shines in the sunlight.

“ya look gorgeous, princess. always so perfect,” he says, brushing a piece of your hair away from your face.

your heart swells in your chest, “is it me or are you just admiring your own work? it’s very pretty, kento, didn’t know you could do that.”

he pulls you to him, kissing you softly before replying, “‘m always lookin’ at you, darlin’. prettiest thing i’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

cowboy!nanami masterlist

suguruverse

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ nobody else but you ! or jjk boys as your boyfriend

gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji

notes — f!reader, mostly just fluff / not proofread at all lol i was gonna write three for each but i got a lil lazy so here you go !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ gojo satoru

satoru is the type of boyfriend to... have no concept of personal space, constantly having his arms wrapped around your waist, a subtle hand on the small of your back or your hands intertwined as he leads you through a busy crowd, his head resting on your chest while his hand rubs your back soothingly. he just loves to feel your skin on his!! always!!

satoru is the type of boyfriend to... be a little bit of a picky eater but love love loves it when you feed him literally anything . it brings him so much joy to think that you’re willing to give up some of your food for lil ol him. he is willing to ignore foods that are the bane of his existence if it meant you were feeding him. and when you tilt your head asking if it was good, he will painfully choke back his food but still give you that same bright smile he always does. after all he can sacrifice a few trips to the bathroom if it meant he could always see your excited face wanting him to try your new food combinations.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ geto suguru

suguru is the type of boyfriend to... absolutely melt whenever you space out during conversations, only to look up to him with a small "hmm?" followed by a sheepish grin. he lives for the giggle you let out as he pinches your cheek then smoothing over the skin on your cheek with his thumb, cupping your face in his hands, repeating his words for you once more.

suguru is the type of boyfriend to... be able to communicate with you without even saying much at all. he prides himself on being able to read your mind and facial expressions to a tee. even with a small crinkle of your forehead, slightly moving your body closer to him or even if you breathe differently, TRUSTTTT he will always know if he needs to step in and ask you what’s wrong or to let you figure out your own thing.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ kento nanami

kento is the type of boyfriend to... love going on cute little coffee shop dates with you. he especially loves when you find yourselves tucked into a small corner booth during the winter, your smaller frame pressed close to his body stealing his warmth while you share your favourite pastries together.

kento is the type of boyfriend to... talk to you with the most warmth in his voice. he wouldn't dare to raise his voice at you or give you unwarranted attitude. you’re his everything and definitely talks to you like you are. respectful eye contact, nodding every so often to show that he’s listening, a slight smile on his face as he listens to you talk about some drama that you’ve already mentioned twice before but can’t bring himself to stop you because he just loves listening to you talk.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fushiguro toji

toji is the type of boyfriend to... love holding out his arms for you to jump into. he just loves the rush of warmth that comes over him when your body smashes into his after a long day of not seeing each other. although he may not admit it, there is nothing more he loves than seeing his favourite girl running at him and jumping into a hug with your arms and legs wrapped around him. idk he just loves showing you how strong he is !!!

toji is the type of boyfriend to... notice immediately when your not in his arms when your sleeping together. now he doesn’t exactly consider himself a light sleeper but even when he’s snoring his ass off, he somehow notices the lack of you in his arms and will start patting the bed looking for your body. he quickly gives up though when a light shines in his eye followed by your hushed movements in the bedroom, trying not wake your boyfriend only for him for pull you straight to his chest, croaking out a “ya took too long ma” and falls asleep before you could even respond

kentoangel

❤︎ ˖ ݁ . reader holds their hair up with a pencil + wears glasses and is a wedding planner, he calls you mrs. higuruma ﾉ sweetheart. soo very self indulgent

“finally — i’ve been looking for you all over the place, sweetheart.”

you look up from your computer and to your husband — mr. higuruma hiromi in all of his post work glory; unbuttoned shirt, messy hair, bedroom eyes, a sleepy smile on his face.

“hiromi,” you smile, breathless, which he kisses away as he pushes your glasses to the top of your head. “you’re home already?”

his gravely hum and the delightful sound of ella fitzgerald’s voice fill your office, but you enter heaven when he deepens the kiss and holds the side of your face with gentleness.

when he parts, you hum.

“yeah — thought we could order takeout and work together. maybe take a shower afterward, too.”

“sounds good — i’m still mapping out some stuff for the gojo’s wedding.”

“your friend, right? the one who designs bridal gowns?”

you reply with an mhm and your husband kisses the top of your head, about to leave to order takeout, but the pencil in your hair stops him and he laughs through his nose.

he taps the eraser. “is this a new fashion trend i don’t know about?”

you smile bashfully and his heart threatens to leap out of his chest. “no, i just didn’t want to get up for a hair tie.”

he tucks his fingers into the sleeve of his shirt and pulls out one of your brown hair ties from his wrist, gently sits it down on your desk.

“you look cute with the pencil, though.”

“i love you, mr. higuruma.”

“oh, mrs. higuruma,” he catches your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “i love you even more.”

saeun

ever since nanami met you, his personal space was always invaded. if he was soaking away in the bathtub, you'd be right there. if he fell asleep before you did, you'd snug yourself into his embrace when you're going to sleep.

he didn't mind it— after all, nanami was an enthusiast for physical touch and warmth from body heat instead of a blanket.

perhaps it's too much warmth now. the nights that he spent meticulously balancing cold and hot temperatures are now filled with hot and hot. on one side, there's you with a leg thrown over him. on the other side, there's a baby sleeping soundly on his torso.

it's now common for him to sweat a little, but who cares? there's now a baby in the picture, the euphoria he experiences is at its highest; his domestic family feelings have finally been met with reality. a little sweat is nothing.

again, the overpowering warmth keeps him awake— even when he's shirtless. nanami tries his best to not pay any mind to the drool that's settling on his chest from the baby's mouth. as long as it's peacefully quiet without cries that are louder than an alarm.

with his free hand, he cups your face, caressing the cheek with his fingers. he wants to lay a kiss on your forehead, but he can't risk unintentionally waking the infant. it saddens him, but the small, subconscious smile on your face from his touch is more than enough.

hanaonesflower

“let me do this for you.”

“let me get that for you.”

“don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

when nanami was around, it was like being watched by a hawk. not in a bad way of course, just not a way you're probably used to. he is always on it, taking care of everything from beginning to end, hell bent on you not ever lifting a finger and actually bar you from doing it, even behind his back.

"seriously, kento, I can do it myself!"

"absolutely not, you worked all day, when you come home, I take care of you."

you try to bargain, dishing out facts that he, too, has a full time job that usually pushes him to the brink of exhaustion that he may or may not recover from, yet, here he is, elbows deep in dough, insistent on making pasta from scratch. according to a recipe that you may have briefly mentioned weeks ago that you wanted to try.

you tried to pick up the knife and dice the tomatoes or turn on the stove, he shoos you away.

"this is getting out of control, kento."

"you can help me by taking a nice warm long bath, honey."

nanami knows what he's doing, the majority of the time. but will he ever express that he fumbles from time to time? never. not that his ego is inflated, but because he has prided himself for being to care for you boundlessly.

so when you leave the bath and find kento with his hand in a bucket of ice water, you realize something have gone south in the kitchen.

"kento! what happened?!"

"nothing to worry about my l-"

"enough! tell me, now."

your stern voice and attitude stun him, he's never seen you like this before. his behavior is downright concerning, he hasn't always been this way though. sure, he loves by serving, but he isn't always this stubborn or ridiculously protective. you have always cooked together, why would it be different this time, or the last few times within the past couple of months. nanami isn't unreasonable, but he can be if something pricked at his pride.

"I may have burned myself with the hot steam."

"may have? your skin is having a terrible reaction! for a smart man you can be so clumsy sometimes."

"it's not that bad."

you glare.

"okay, it's pretty burnt and it hurts."

"I bet it does."

you slowly pull his hand out from the ice bucket and lead him to the kitchen table and command him to sit still when you fetch the first aid. his palm is raw from the burn and his face twists in pain when you apply some pressure.

there isn't much conversation exchanged between you and him, but something is definitely hanging above your heads. kento seems to be closed off to it, but you're willing to get to the root of things.

"you haven't been yourself lately."

silence.

"I feel like this is not just about providing for me, something happened, and it affected you."

kento looks saddened by this. you are spot on. something did happen.

a few months ago, during a dinner party amongst friends, kento found himself begrudgingly involved in unpleasant conversations with his colleagues, the way they audaciously questioned his ability to care for his partner when he was always away on work trips or spending extra time at work. he took it to heart, kento questioned himself. he realized, that even though his colleagues were terribly annoying and invasive, they made some considerable points. he made the executive decision to fully take over, spinning a complete 180 on you. at first you thought it was sweet, until it became authoritarian.

"that's really how you feel?"

"have I been absent to you, y/n?"

you contemplate for a while, you truly wish he is around more, but you always understand the nature of his job.

"I do wish I can see you more often, when you had that 2-week long vacation, I was able to spend such amazing quality time with you, and it was awesome, but I also understand how your job is. I didn't want to come in between that."

"so I have been absent." he moaned defeatedly.

"please don't blame it on yourself like this, it's not healthy, I still love you, kento."

"this is all my fault, y/n, I should have been there for you more."

truthfully, you wish he was, but once again, you are both stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"have you been doing all this to somehow compensate?"

"is it working?"

he is trying to humor you, although at quite a horrid time, you still crack a smile.

"I think it's very kind of you."

he sighs.

"please, forgive me, my love. I became what you called a workaholic, I tried to get more hours to provide for you, only to come short in other aspects."

"I'm not an unemployed housewife, kento."

“this isn’t my way of saying that you are incapacitated in any way, i just wish that you didn’t have to worry about anything,” he groaned from the incessant gnawing of the antiseptic on his burnt wound.

“kento, this is a partnership, you’re not my servant and i’m not a spoiled brat,” he felt a little silly, nanami knew this fact yet he felt impotent in this sense. he opened and closed his lips, hoping to get his point across even further but nothing seemed good enough at theis point, he’s done fighting.

“whatever you’re going to say, it’s not going to change the fact that i love you,” you silence him.

“then can i say that i love you, too?”

“that, you can.”

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧

note: PHEEeewww… it’s really good to be back :33 this piece shall be the redebut as it is one of my cuter fics. going back with smut pieces after such a long hiatus didn’t feel right so – soft nanami is always the way to go!! more content will be coming soon (smut included >.>), stay tuned ( ˘ ³˘)

g00miato

Double cake 🍰

chuuyasboots

cowboy!nanami showing you just how much prettier the sunrise is in the country. he says you've been blinded to "real sunsets," living in the city your whole life.

he sets the whole thing up. wakes up like he always does, well before the crack of dawn, except this time he wakes you along with him.

sure, you're not thrilled to be up so early, but you were dying to see this sunrise that kento insisted was sooo much different than it was in the city.

he's set up a picnic blanket and a few snacks so that you could watch it from the fields behind his home. he makes coffee for both of you as you take a bit to wake up.

it's still dark when you get outside, but you can tell the sun is starting to get closer to peaking over the horizon, illuminating the dew left on the fresh grass.

when the sun finally does break into the sky, you're breathless. from the very first moment the sky starts to morph into beautiful shades of pink and orange, you're entranced. kento is equally as enchanted, although he's not watching the sunrise at all.

sure, he'd been the one to tell you that they were to die for, but he'd much rather spend the morning looking at you, whose beauty rivaled the sun itself, and, in his opinion, put it to shame. he admires you as the sun casts its rays onto your smiling face, holding your hand in his and rubbing small circles onto the back of it.

you turn to him at some point, somewhat startled to find he's already looking at you.

"you missed it, ken," you smile at him. "why're you looking at me when you missed 'the most gorgeous sunrise you'll ever see'?"

he lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles, "i'd miss it for the rest of my life if i get to spend it lookin' at you, darlin'."

cowboy!kento masterlist

pseudowho

Domestic Bliss: Nanami Kento #3, Car Repairs

18+, MDNI, suggestive

Nanami Kento always looked so polished, so tidy. Even when he woke up in the morning, it would be untrue to say he looked messy...just sleep-mussed and sweet.

But god, did he scruff-up well.

You stood at the garage door, enjoying the show.

Kento was bent over the open hood of the car. In old, ripped blue jeans, and a snug white t-shirt, you drank your fill of his oil-smeared biceps, the little smudges of grime on his belly every time he reached, his t-shirt riding up...you took a gulp of your tea, then coughed, sputtering, distracted.

"How long are you going to hide there, hmm?"

You bit your lip with a guilty smile. Sidling round to the front of the car, you slid a mug of coffee across the work-bench to Kento. He hummed gratefully, taking a drink, and planting a metal-tang kiss to your forehead. You obsessed over the oily fingerprints he left behind on the mug as he lay back on the creeper board, sliding beneath the car.

You watched his abs flexing underneath his shirt, then revealed as his shirt rode up again. Listened to the clangs and grunts as he worked. Your mouth watered at his happy trail, and the firm V-line disappearing under his boxers. By the time he slid out, standing up again, you couldn't help yourself.

"You look good."

Kento looked at you with narrow eyes, and the barest of smiles; "Yeah?"

"Yeah. All...oily. Your hands are so dirty. It's...different. For you."

Kento had already slammed the hood shut, and he faced you, looming over you, shepherding you back until your thighs hit the hood. He slipped his calloused, grubby hands under your shirt, gripping you by the waist. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, lifting you onto the hood, and pushing your thighs apart so he could settle between them.

"...well, then," he rumbled, cupping the side of your face, ghosting his nose over yours, "...where do you want these hands?"

Momentarily, laughing, you found yourself flipped over, bent over the hood with your arse up and your toes scraping the floor. Kento lowered your jeans and underwear just to plant an oily-handed slap to your cheeks, groaning at the wobble, your delighted squeak, and the grubby handprint he left behind.

Giggling and squealing, letting Kento kiss and undress you, and rub his mechanic's cologne over you, you let him put his hands wherever he liked.

crumplstiltskin

he thinks he's gonna eat him

to00fu

continuation from this art

itsiitsu

Court of justice

dottedsilktie-deactivated202407

Spring cleaning

Nanami Kento is the perfect man. At least, he would be if he wasn't so hellbent on dragging you into his maddening cleaning routine. Luckily, he knows just how to get you on board. cw : tooth-rotting fluff ! a little suggestive if you squint

You used to be partial to spring, looking forward to the last days of March when the prospect of warmer days thawed the chilly remnants of winter. Then you met Kento, and spring was no longer associated with flowers in bloom and sunny days ahead. Ever since you moved in together, you started dreading the last two weeks of March.

Kento had a peculiar way of welcoming the new season and it involved a day of thorough and almost debilitating spring cleaning. The first time he told you about it, you waved off his detailed plan for the day as a joke. Now, years later, you still cower at the thought of the back-breaking, mind-numbing and, quite frankly, infuriating cleaning programme he puts together every year to test your patience.

You've tried everything to get out of it - faking an illness, 'inadvertently' scheduling a conflicting business trip, crying and grovelling at his feet - but nothing worked. So you've come to accept your fate and gave up on throwing a tantrum first thing in the morning when your alarm rang at 6 AM sharp on that dreaded day. Kento was already out of bed, probably gearing up for a long day of power raking the yard and getting off on it. You were almost tempted to snooze it but you knew he would just slither in your room and snatch you out of bed himself. So you steeled yourself to get up, get ready and get cleaning. Kento was waiting for you in the kitchen, brows furrowed and deep in thought as he went over the printed plan he'd stuck on the fridge. He barely acknowledges you when you croak out a hoarse 'good morning' and kiss his cheek, only humming and squeezing your waist in passing. A glance at the plan he perused was enough to send shivers down your spine : it involved raking, watering, trimming everything in the garden, followed by never-ending laundry and finally channelling Kento’s Marie Kondo obsession to sort through your closets and get rid of enough junk to appease his vendetta against unworn clothes.

Once you settle on your high chair in front of the marble countertop, Kento pushes a cup of coffee towards you, and when you wrinkle your nose at the uncharacteristically potent smell, he explains with a small smile, “Blond roast ristretto - you’re going to need it, darling ” before kissing your forehead and standing up to his full height in front of you.

You just stare at each other for a while - you sipping the sewer water he called a coffee, and him shooting you a sharp scrutinising glare that’d have you squirming the right way any other day. “You are usually quicker than this, almost feels like you’re stalling for time”, he observes with the slightest amused upwards twitch of his mouth. God why must a man this handsome be so insufferable. “Just savouring the exquisite coffee my darling husband made for me, is that wrong ?”, you retort, tone dripping with sarcasm that only makes his smile wider. You think you might just be able to charm and laugh your way out of this but he’s quick to pinch your nose to distract you and snatch your mug from your hands, fine blond brows quirked and rosy lips stretched in boyish mirth. He doesn’t have to reprimand you, you’re already raising your hands in defeat, mumbling in a tone nothing short of dejected, “Okay, okay – no need to get handsy, it’s not easy giving up on my freedom”. To drive your point home, you make a show out of slowly sliding off your high chair, hissing and groaning as you stretch your arms over your head and crack your knuckles right under Kento’s nose. “I’m not fit for these things, Kento - every time I move I feel my body cracking and all, I’m not made for physical labour”.

He listens intently, amusement shifting into mild concern as his hangdog gaze dart between your cup that he rinses off and the pathetic stretching routine you’re performing. Kento moves to dry his hands on a kitchen towel before cupping your cheeks. His amber eyes are so soft and he looks at you with a fondness so genuine, so poignant you’re sure he’s going to let you off the hook. You inch even closer to victory when he bends down to brush the tip of his nose against yours and ghost chaste kisses along your cheeks, your jaw, then your temples. He stays like that for a while, one hand at your nape brushing the delicate hair there, the other cradling your face and rubbing soothing circles against your heated skin.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers right into your ear, his voice smooth and comforting, then he’s back to peppering your temple and cheek with small pecks that make you melt against him. “It’s fine, I know you wouldn’t want to put me through that now that you see just how bad it’d be for me to — " “I’m sorry that you thought this would be a convincing performance”, he cuts you off, biting down on your earlobe, making you gasp at the unexpected nip of his sharp teeth against your sensitive skin.

He pulls back to appreciate how your pretty face contorts in fluster, then surprise, before twisting in an angry pout. You’re gnawing at your bottom lip, arms crossed over your chest, truly defeated this time and the shame of being played only adds to your growing irritation. “My petulant little thespian is at her wits’ end”, he taunts you in a singsong voice, his usually inflectionless baritone voice sounding uncharacteristically chipper. You stare at your feet with the vexed mortification of a child caught red-handed and Kento has to hook a finger under your chin for you to look him in the eyes.

“Do a good job cleaning today and I might just help you work out those aches that make you ‘unfit’, mmh ?”, he offers, the swift flicker of his gaze between your eyes and your lips sullying the apparent innocence of his offer. He doesn’t give you time to answer as he brushes past you, a smug smile playing on his lips, and you all but scurry out of the kitchen, hot on his heels and bursting with energy. Needless to say, the house is spotless by the end of the day, your assigned chores crossed off at record speed.

can you tell i love domestic kento

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