Playful Date
Kamimoto Kotone x Male Reader (1st)
3.1k+
I wake up stupidly early because I’m nervous. It’s the first time Kotone and I are doing a proper all-day date, just the two of us, no schedules. No manager. No members tagging along.
She texted me last night: “let’s meet at 10, wear something comfy but cute ♡” and attached that exact photo she posted later, the one where she’s doing the tiny "v" finger and duck lips in front of the pine trees. I stared at it way too long.
I get to the little park near the river twenty minutes early. It’s already warm for spring, sun’s out, and there she is on the bench, legs crossed, white dress and short blazer, looking exactly like the picture except now she’s real and smiling at me.
“Hey, you’re early,” she says, standing up. Her voice is soft but teasing. “Were you that excited to see me?”
“Shut up,” I laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. “I just didn’t want to keep a princess waiting.”
She rolls her eyes but she’s grinning. “Princess? Bold. I like it.” She does a little spin so the skirt flares. “Do I look okay? I spent like an hour picking this.”
“You look insane,” I say, honest. “Like… unfairly pretty.”
Her cheeks go pink. “Stop, you’re gonna make me shy and I still have to be cute all day.”
We start walking along the path. She hooks her arm through mine without asking, like it’s the most natural thing.
“So what’s the plan, boyfriend?” she asks, bumping her hip into me.
“I was gonna let you pick everything because I’m easy,” I say. “But I did book one thing for later.”
“Ooh mysterious.” She squeezes my arm. “Feed me first. I only had yogurt.”
“There’s a café ten minutes away that does those fluffy pancakes you like.”
She actually squeals. Quiet, but a squeal. “The ones with the cream and strawberries? You remembered?”
“I’m not completely useless.”
We get to the café and it’s quiet, just a few old ladies and one sleepy student. We grab a table by the window. She takes a million photos of the menu, then of me, then makes me take photos of her holding the menu like it’s a photoshoot.
When the pancakes come she claps like a kid. “Look at the height on these! They’re taller than my hopes for today.”
I snort. “That’s not hard.”
She kicks me lightly under the table. “Rude. Eat your eggs.”
We share everything anyway. She keeps stealing bites of my omelette and feeding me pieces of pancake with her fork. At one point there’s cream on the corner of her mouth and I reach over with my thumb to wipe it. She freezes for a second, then licks it off my thumb super slow while staring at me.
My brain short-circuits.
“Don’t look at me like that in public,” I mutter.
“Like what?” she asks, all innocent, batting her lashes.
“Like you want me to drag you to the bathroom right now.”
She laughs into her hand. “Maybe later. Eat faster.”
After breakfast we walk along the river, no real destination. She keeps stopping to take selfies, making me do stupid poses with her. At one point she jumps on my back for a piggyback and almost makes us both fall into the grass.
“You’re heavier than you look,” I tease.
“That’s muscle, loser. Carry me properly.”
I spin her around once and she screams laughing, hair everywhere. When I put her down she doesn’t let go right away, just stays pressed against my chest, looking up.
“You’re fun,” she says quietly.
“You sound surprised.”
“I am a little. Most guys get weird when it’s just us.”
“I’m not most guys.”
She smiles soft. “I know.”
We end up at a tiny bookstore she loves. She drags me through every aisle, pulling out random manga and making me read the dramatic parts out loud in funny voices. I suck at it but she’s crying laughing by the time I’m doing a pirate voice for some high school romance confession.
Then she finds a shelf of adult stuff tucked in the back. She picks up one with a half-naked guy on the cover and flips it open, eyes going wide.
“Oh my god, listen to this,” she whispers, reading in a dramatic voice: “‘He pushed her against the wall, his thick—’”
I slap my hand over her mouth. “Kotone! People are here!”
She’s laughing so hard she’s shaking. I drag her out of the aisle, both of us giggling like idiots.
Outside she leans against the wall catching her breath. “You’re blushing.”
“You’re evil.”
“You love it.”
I do.
The thing I booked is a hotel suite for the night. Nothing crazy fancy, but private, high floor, big bed, view of the city. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but when I mention it casually she just nods like she already knew.
“You planned to get laid, huh?” she says, deadpan.
My mouth drops open. “I— no— I mean— if you want— we don’t have to—”
She pokes my chest. “Relax. I packed an overnight bag.” Then quieter: “And nice underwear.”
We kill a couple more hours shopping, she tries on sunglasses and makes me take 400 photos and eating ice cream. By the time the sun starts going down we’re both a little tired, holding hands, swinging them between us.
In the elevator up to the room she’s quiet, playing with my fingers.
“You nervous?” I ask.
“A little,” she admits. “Not bad nervous. Good nervous.”
“Me too.”
The door clicks shut behind us and suddenly it’s just quiet. City lights starting outside the window. She kicks off her shoes and walks straight to the bed, flops on her back.
“This is huge,” she says, spreading her arms. “We could fit like five of me.”
I toe off my shoes and crawl over her, hands on either side of her head. “I only need one.”
She smiles up at me, soft. “Cheesy.”
“You like cheesy.”
“I like you.”
I kiss her then, slow. Not rushed like the sneaky ones we steal backstage. She tastes like strawberry ice cream still. Her hands slide up under my shirt, nails dragging lightly down my back. I shiver.
We take our time. I kiss down her neck, undo the little buttons on her blazer one by one. She arches when I mouth at her collarbone.
“Your hands are shaking,” she whispers.
“Yeah, well, you’re you.”
She laughs softly and pulls my shirt off, runs her hands over my chest like she’s memorizing it. “You’re warm.”
I slide the blazer off her shoulders, kiss the soft skin there. She sits up a little so I can pull the dress over her head. White lace underneath, simple but perfect. She blushes when I just stare.
“Stopppp.”
“Can’t. You’re ridiculous.”
She pulls me down on top of her, legs wrapping around my waist. We kiss lazy and deep, grinding slow. I can feel how wet she already is through her panties and it makes me groan into her mouth.
“Off,” she mumbles against my lips, tugging at my jeans.
I sit back to shove them down and she watches, biting her lip. When I’m just in boxers she reaches for me, palms me through the fabric.
“Already this hard?” she teases, voice soft.
“Been half hard since the café, thanks to you.”
She giggles and pulls me back down. Skin on skin now, just thin layers left. I kiss down her chest, pull the lace down with my teeth. She gasps when I close my mouth over her nipple, arching up.
I take my time there, licking and sucking until she’s squirming, little whines in her throat. Then lower, kissing over her stomach. She threads fingers through my hair.
When I hook my fingers in her panties she lifts her hips to help. I slide them off slow, kiss the inside of her thigh.
“Look at you,” I breathe. She’s flushed pink, glistening.
“Don’t say embarrassing stuff,” she whines, covering her face.
“Too late.”
I lick one slow stripe up her and she jolts, legs trying to close. I hold them open gently, do it again. She tastes sweet, a little salty. I could stay here forever.
I go slow, figuring out what makes her breath hitch, what makes her tug my hair harder. When I slide one finger inside she moans my name soft.
“More,” she whispers.
I add another, curl them, suck gently on her clit. Her hips start moving on their own. She’s close already, I can tell by the way her thighs shake.
“Come for me, baby,” I murmur against her.
She does with a broken little cry, clenching around my fingers, back arched off the bed. I keep going soft until she pushes my head away, oversensitive.
I crawl back up and she kisses me messy, tasting herself.
“Your turn,” she says, voice husky.
She pushes me onto my back, tugs my boxers down. My cock springs out and she hums, wrapping her hand around it.
“Been thinking about this for weeks,” she admits, stroking slow.
“Yeah?” I can barely talk.
“Mhm. In the dorm. Alone. With my hand down my pants pretending it was you.”
I groan loud. “Fuck, Kotone.”
She smirks and leans down, licks a stripe up the underside, swirls her tongue around the head. Then takes me in, slow and warm and wet. I have to fist the sheets so I don’t thrust up.
She’s not super experienced but she’s eager, bobbing slow, using her hand too. Looking up at me with those big eyes the whole time. I’m not gonna last long like this.
“Babe… close—”
She pulls off with a pop, crawls up and straddles me. Grabs the condom from the bedside table (I left them obvious on purpose) and rolls it on with slightly shaky hands.
Then she sinks down slow.
We both moan. She’s tight and hot and perfect. She stays still for a second, adjusting, forehead against mine.
“Okay?” I ask, hands on her hips.
“Yeah,” she breathes. “Just… big.”
I laugh shakily. “Thanks?”
She starts moving, slow rolls of her hips. I watch where we’re joined, can’t look away. She braces her hands on my chest and picks up speed a little.
“Feels so good,” she whispers.
I thrust up to meet her and she gasps, nails digging in.
We find a rhythm, lazy but deep. She leans down to kiss me, moaning into my mouth every time I hit that spot inside.
“I’m gonna—” she starts.
“Do it,” I pant. “Come on me.”
She grinds down hard once, twice, then shudders all over, clenching tight. I follow right after, groaning her name, hips jerking up.
We stay like that, breathing hard, sweaty. She collapses on my chest.
After a minute she laughs softly. “We’re gross.”
“Shower?” I ask.
“In a minute. Don’t want to move yet.”
I wrap my arms around her, kiss the top of her head.
I wake up first, like always. The hotel room is still dark except for the city glow sneaking past the curtains. Kotone is curled against my side, one leg thrown over mine, her hair everywhere. She’s drooling a little on my chest and it’s stupidly cute.
I play with her hair for a while, just watching her breathe. Last night feels like a dream already, but the faint red marks on her neck say it wasn’t.
She stirs, makes a tiny grumpy noise, and buries her face deeper into me.
“Too early,” she mumbles.
“It’s almost ten.”
“Still too early.” She tightens her arm around my waist. “Stay.”
We stay like that for another hour, half-asleep, trading lazy kisses and soft touches. Eventually hunger wins. She sits up, hair wild, wearing my t-shirt and nothing else.
“I look like a mess,” she says, trying to tame it.
“You look like someone who got properly fucked,” I say, grinning.
She throws a pillow at my face.
We shower together, mostly because she refuses to let me leave the bathroom. It’s a lot of laughing and slipping and her washing my hair while standing on her toes. There’s more touching than actual cleaning. I end up pressed against the tiles with her hand around me again, kissing until the water starts going cold.
After checkout we grab coffee and head to her dorm. She says the girls are all out for schedules until evening, so we have the place to ourselves.
The second we step into her room I laugh. It’s exactly like the photo she posted last week: bottom bunk, purple LED lights, teddy bears, books stacked everywhere, that stupid cow-print blanket. It smells like her vanilla perfume and peach shampoo.
She kicks the door shut and immediately pushes me onto the lower bed.
“This is my kingdom,” she announces, climbing on top of me. “You have to do what I say now.”
“Yes, princess.”
She’s wearing the same sheer floral long-sleeve from the photo now, tucked into tiny denim shorts. The purple lights make her skin glow. She leans down, hair falling around us like a curtain.
“I missed this bed,” she whispers. “But I missed you in it more.”
I slide my hands under the shirt, just feeling her warm skin. “Show me how much.”
She kisses me slow, rocking her hips a little. We’re both still sensitive from last night, but it’s the good kind of sensitive. She sits back and pulls the shirt over her head. No bra. Just the little cross necklace resting between her breasts.
I sit up to mouth at them, sucking gently. She sighs, fingers in my hair.
“I used to think about you when I was alone here,” she says quietly. “Like… a lot.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm. Right on this bed. Lights purple, music low, hand in my panties pretending it was you.”
I groan against her skin. “You’re trying to kill me.”
She laughs softly and reaches for my jeans, undoes them quick. I help kick them off. She scoots down, kisses my stomach, then lower. Takes me in her mouth again like she’s making up for lost time. Slow and wet and perfect.
I’m already leaking, thighs tense. She hums around me and I almost lose it.
“Babe… come here.”
She crawls back up, kisses me so I taste myself. I flip us so she’s under me, yank her shorts and panties off in one go. She’s soaked again. I slide two fingers inside easy, curl them.
She gasps, back arching. “Yes—”
I finger her slow, watching her face in the purple light. She looks unreal. Her phone is on the pillow playing some chill lo-fi, volume low.
“Want you inside,” she whispers.
“Condom?” I ask.
“Top drawer.”
I grab one, roll it on while she watches, legs spread, biting her lip. Then I push in slow. She’s tighter here for some reason, maybe the angle, maybe the bed is smaller and we’re closer. Her bunk bed creaks a little and we both freeze, then laugh.
“Shh,” she giggles. “The top bunk might collapse on us.”
“Let it. Worth it.”
I start moving, deep and steady. She wraps her legs high around my waist, heels digging into my back. The LED lights paint us violet and blue. Her nails scratch lightly down my arms.
“Harder,” she breathes.
I give it to her. The bed frame starts a quiet rhythm against the wall. She covers her mouth with her hand to keep quieter, but little moans still slip out.
I pull her hand away. “Wanna hear you.”
“Can’t… the dorm walls are thin…”
“Then bite me instead.”
She does, right on my shoulder, muffling herself as I pound into her. She comes first, shaking hard, clenching so tight I follow right after, groaning into her neck.
We lie there panting. The purple lights make sweat on her chest glow.
After a minute she starts laughing.
“What?” I ask.
“I’m gonna have to change my sheets before the girls come back. They’ll know exactly what happened.”
“Good. Let them be jealous.”
She slaps my chest weakly. “Perv.”
We clean up lazy. She finds us both big t-shirts and we crawl under her cow blanket, legs tangled. She puts on some anime we both pretend to watch while actually just cuddling.
Her phone buzzes. She checks it and groans.
“Manager says we have dance practice at six. It’s four now.”
I kiss her shoulder. “So we’ve got two hours.”
She turns in my arms, nose brushing mine. “Round three?”
“Round three.”
This time it’s slower, softer. She rides me facing away first, hands braced on my thighs, head tipped back so her hair spills down my chest. The view is insane. I hold her hips and watch myself disappear into her over and over.
Then she turns around, straddles me again, moving lazy circles. We kiss the whole time. I play with her clit with my thumb until she’s trembling.
“Come inside me again,” she whispers against my lips.
I do, holding her down hard as I pulse into the condom. She collapses forward, laughing breathlessly.
“I’m dead. You killed me.”
“Same.”
We nap for maybe forty minutes. I wake up to her taking selfies of us cuddled up, my arm around her waist, both of us flushed and messy.
“Evidence,” she says, grinning.
“Delete that, I look like shit.”
“You look hot. I’m keeping it forever.”
She orders fried chicken delivery because neither of us wants to move. We eat it cross-legged on her bed in our t-shirts, sauce on our fingers, feeding each other pieces and licking each other’s lips clean.
At 5:30 she’s blow-drying her hair in tiny shorts while I sit on the toilet seat watching like a simp.
“You have to go soon,” she says, pouting in the mirror.
“I know.”
She turns off the dryer, walks over and straddles my lap right there on the bathroom counter.
“One more kiss,” she says.
It turns into way more than one kiss. I’m hard again instantly. She grinds on me through our clothes, whimpering.
“We don’t have time,” I groan.
“Just quick.”
She hops down, yanks my sweats down, bends over the sink. I’m inside her in seconds, no condom this time because we’re idiots and she’s on the pill and we both got tested last month.
It’s fast and desperate. The mirror fogs up. She watches us in it, mouth open, little gasps every time I thrust.
“Pull my hair,” she breathes.
I do, gentle but firm. She comes hard, legs shaking, and I follow right after, spilling deep inside her with her name on my lips.
We clean up quick, both shaky and giggling like we just got away with something.
At the door she hugs me tight.
“Text me when you get home safe,” she says into my chest.
“I will.”
“And… I love you,” she mumbles, so quiet I almost miss it.
I tilt her chin up. “Say it again.”
“I love you, dummy.”
“Love you too.”
She kisses me soft and sweet, then pushes me out before the girls come back and catch us.
