a/m ; this is my first fic so.. i’m so sorry if it’s buns 💔
you’re cockwarming nanami while in his office, he’s typing down some documents, or whatever.. it’s not like it matters to you, the only thing you can really focus on is how deep, and big he feels. his tip is kissing your cervix while you’re trying your best not to squirm because.. boy who knows. you cancel out the sound of keys clicking on his keyboard while small hairs are sticking to your forehead. your back pressed against his chest while breathing heavily.
“ken..” you whine, grinding your hips to chase the friction. but his veiny and muscular arms quickly grip your hip, lowering his head just so you can hear his breath tickling your ear,
“stay still, doll.” he says in a monotone and sober tone. how the hell is he so restrained? after your puffy lips and gummy walls are sucking him in like they don’t wanna let go. you whimper in response. he chuckles darkly against your ear.
“patience my dear. just a few more numbers i gotta put in and you’ll get your reward, hm?”
he hums against your ear. you inhale sharply and nod. wiggling while your knuckles are white while gripping the edge of the desk, your head falling back on his shoulder.
“hngh..” you whine desperately. the only thing you can do is clench around his girth and let your juices drip down your inner thigh.
“oh, i know..” he mocks while grinding his hips against you, you let out a moan without even thinking, your head jerking forward just a bit. he likes that. he chuckles in your ear again while he does it again, which almost sends you over the edge.
“ken..!” you gasp, pathetic and urgent. your voice high pitched now, almost porn worthy. but he stays calm and collected. you could almost catch the shiver in his voice when you squeak. the way you feel his adam apple bob, and the way you could feel his cock twitch clenched around your walls.
“let’s make a deal, love.” he says, his hands leaving the keyboard and sneaking around to your waist, you turn your head to look at him but he cups your chin and makes you face the computer. you never noticed how bright the screen was until now..
“type in these numbers and i’ll reward you.” he says casually. what!?… you thought, he couldn’t be serious. oh gosh. your mind spiraled, processing his words as your jaw twitched.
“h-huh?..” “you heard me. cmon, i don’t have all day darling.” he urges you, your shaky hands hover over the keyboard. taking a deep breath, your eyes felt glossy.
“789,365.” he said. your hands clicked on the keys, trying to not focus on the way he occasionally jerked his hips up, just slightly, to tease you even more.
“great.. you’re doing so well, angel.” he praised, his hands leaving coming to stroke your hair, you inhaled sharply,
“is that it?..” he laughed at your question, it was a laugh that made you feel stupid. “of course not y/n.” he replied, a hint of devilish sarcasm in his tone.
“just a few more then you’ll get your reward, can you do that for me, baby?” he nipped at your shoulder, sending shivers through your spine.
“mhm..” your nodded, half determined, half desperate to get that dicking down.
you continued to type in the numbers he told you too, if you kept messing up he guided your fingers across the keys while praising and degrading you at the same time.
“awh, you can’t do it? let me help you.”
“mm.. well done dear.”
“ah.. you’re doing so well, my pretty girl.”
“i can’t believe you’re able to do this while soaking my chair while so.. needy. youre insatiable..”
again, he jerked his hips up once in awhile to get a moan or a whimper out of you. chuckling in your ear while his hands rubbed circles over your stomach, pressing down to feel the bulge of his cock sticking out of your lower belly.
you moaned shamelessly as he pressed down on the outline of his cock poking through your belly.
“ah? you feel me there pretty girl? that’s right.. so small compared to me, am i too big for you?”
“nono- i mean-..” wrong answer. because of this, he raised and eyebrow and smirked.
“really, angel? so that means you can take me, huh?” he tilts his head while he turned your head to look at him, “i-“ he didn’t give you time to respond because his hands already snaked around your hips as he lifted you up, and sinking you down on his cock, jerking his hips up fast and mercilessly. your tits bouncing within every thrust he punished you with. you let out shameless cries while hiccuping and absolutely cockdrunk. you felt your lower stomach grow warm and you could feel your incoming orgasm,
“ah!- hnn!- kenn!.. m’ gonna come- ah-“ you barely spoke coherent sentences, just babbling words off the top of your mind,
“that’s right.. feel so good around me, darling.. go on, come for me babydoll.” he said, slapping your clit which sent you over the edge,
“hngh!-“ you cried out his name as you came, gushing all over his cock. he followed after a few more thrusts, burying himself deeeep inside you while he pressed down on the bulge of your stomach. filling you up completely, painting your insides. grinding his hips to ride out his orgasm.
afterwards, he shut off his computer, his head slumping on your shoulder.
┆ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ - "obsessed stay at home wife unknowingly poisons her husband over time."
ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛꜱ:
★ Starring: Kento N. x F! Reader
★ Run Time: 1.5k
★ Genre/Warnings: [Rated R: Drama] angst? i guess?, obsessive reader thinking, unintentional poisoning altho not explicitly mentioned, thats perty much it
★ heavilyyy based off of hes my man by luvcat its an amazingly beautiful song and i recommend everynyan listens to it
▶▶
drip. drip. drip.
your perfectly manicured nails tap in rhythm with the leaky faucet against wooden table top where you sat in the dreary kitchen. the room was cast a dark grey, the cloudy skies and setting sun only adding to the sombre ambiance. glancing up at the clock, your frown only deepened.
8:52PM
the clock hands only seemed to mock you further. your husband should have been home by now. where was he? what was he doing? you start scratching at the table almost absentmindedly, the feeling of the wood resisting under your nails somewhat grounding. looking over at the stove, you let out a small huff of frustration. the dinner you had worked so hard on was already going cold. the corners of your lips pulled downwards even more and as you looked at the door you could feel your eyes prick with tears. god where was he?! he should have been home nearly two hours ago. what if he left you? what if he was gone from good?
drip. drip. drip.
with a frustrated grunt, you slam both of your hands against the table, relishing the pain as the wood bites at your skin. some part of you worried momentarily about splinters but that wouldn’t matter as soon as your loving husband came home. he would take care of you, just as he always did. you shoot up from the table, sending the chair flying back with a loud scrape against the tile floor, and walk over to the skin. hands gripping the edge of the counter tight, you tried to calm yourself. tried to calm the aching pain in your chest that felt as if it were threatening to consume you at any moment.
drip. drip. drip.
where was your husband? where the fuck could he be? why wasn’t he home yet? why wasnt he fucking home yet?! a pained noise escapes your lips, eyes screwing shut as you tried to block out the noise. you needed your husband. needed him like the air you breathed or the water you drank. this pain was all encompassing, a weight both physical and mental that seemed to rest on your shoulders. your knees grow weak, body trembling as you slowly slump to the floor. your chest was already heaving, tears already pooling at the corners of your eyes.
drip. drip. drip.
your hands find their way into your hair, tugging at the strands lightly. although you knew it wouldn’t take much longer for you to be at the point of ripping your hair out. you felt empty, cold. you were nothing without your husband, he was everything to you. how could he leave? how could he abandon y-
the door creaks open slowly, the sound of light rain could be heard clearly for a moment until your husband closes the door behind him. you immediately scramble up, eyes wide and a huge smile plastered on your face. that is until you took in his appearance. he looked… tired, and that only made you frown. you never wanted your husband to be tired. he deserved all the rest in the world. scurrying over to him, you help him take off his coat.
“you’re home,” you breathe out, the tension in your chest slowly ebbing as his familiar scent fills your nostrils and calms your brain. “i missed you. why were you late?” nanami only responds with a huff as he toes off his shoes, pressing a rough kiss to your forehead as he walks deeper inside the small house. his frame seemed… smaller? like he was losing weight. but thats impossible. you made sure to feed him every day!
“my head is killing me y/n. please tell me you made dinner.” nanami flops down onto the worn leather arm chair with a groan, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. without missing a beat, you nod your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“of course honey let me go fix you a plate,” you head off towards the kitchen, humming a random tune as you prepared food for your husband. there was a small smile on your face. you always smiled when nanami was home. it was the only time everything was perfect. thinking about how tired your poor husband looked, you decided to make him some tea as well. he had been having trouble sleeping lately and you’d do anything to help him feel better. “here you go my love,” setting the plate down on the coffee table in front of him, you gingerly handed him his tea, your smile only growing as you watched him blow softly at the steam.
“thank you.” he murmured softly, holding the cup of tea with both hands as he waited for it to cool. the steam made his glasses fog up slightly and you took it upon yourself to push them back up as they slid down the bridge of his nose. nanami smiles up at you then, it’s small, his exhaustion evident on his face. you study his glasses, noticing how the lenses seem to only be getting thicker as the months go by, for reasons both of you didn't know.
“eat up, i worked extra hard on this meal,” you perch yourself on the armrest of the chair, the worn leather creaking slightly under your weight. you leaned in slightly with a soft hum, running a hand through his blonde hair as he blew on his tea. you watched intently, studying his features, each little movement of the muscles making up his beautiful face. nanami chuckles lightly, glancing up at you briefly before taking a sip of the warm liquid.
nanami’s nose scrunches slightly as soon as the tea hits his tongue, an odd flavor coating his taste buds. it tasted weird, that same weird he’s been getting used to now over the past few months. you must’ve been using a different blend recently. looking back up at you over the rim of the porcelain cup, seeing you looking down at him as if he was the only man in the world, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you he didn’t want it. so instead, he steeled his mind and sipped more of it past his lips before setting it down to move onto your carefully crafted dinner.
the room was quiet as he ate aside from the sound of utensils hitting the glass plate and the dreaded dripping of the leaky faucet along with the rain that was gradually getting heavier. the room was bathed in a warm orange light from the flower lamp nanami had bought you a year back. you stayed where you were on the armrest, massaging his shoulders and scalp as he ate, content to just work on soothing him. content to be in his presence.
as soon as his plate was cleared, you get up and grab them before heading to the kitchen. you diligently work on cleaning the dishes. you found peace in the routine, even though none of it mattered when your husband wasnt home. you’d never be at peace when he was away.
you can feel a pair of warm arms wrap around your waist, a low hum leaving your lovers chest as he pressed closer against you from behind. nuzzling his face against the crook of your neck, he places a light kiss to your skin, taking a long moment to just breathe you in.
“thank you for dinner love,” he mumbled against your collarbone as he peppered the exposed area with soft kisses. you couldnt help but lean back into his touch, tilting your head lightly to give him better access. but it was over before you knew it, nanami pulling away as he mumbled something about his head still hurting and wanting to get ready for bed. you frown at the reminder that he would be gone tomorrow morning again. the thought of him leaving hurting just as much as always no matter how many times you had to bear it.
by the time you finish cleaning up the kitchen, nanami has already slipped under the blankets, snoring softly against the silk pillows. the sight made warmth bloom in your chest. he looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, and you were the only one able to see him like this.
after completing your nightly routine and slipping on your pajamas, you crawl into bed next to him. you scoot in close, your face mere inches away from his as you studied his sleeping face. his cheeks were slightly gaunt, eyebags only growing more prominent as the days went by. it made you upset that he had to go out there and work away, especially since he should be staying home with you. always.
you move closer, pressing your body against his and holding him close. with a low grumble, nanami wraps his arm around your waist, tugging you as close as possible. pressing a kiss to his shoulder, you murmur a soft ‘goodnight’ before letting yourself drift off in your husbands warm arms, feeling a love so fierce it could consume you both.
i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3
ʟᴏʙʙʏ ﹕ꜰɪʟᴍᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ
𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃
pairing; nanami kento x fem!reader
summary; "so before the light, hold me again with all of your might, in the still of the night." - the five satins
wc; 2.6k
cw; smut (non-penetrative sex), cisfem!reader, mentions of misogyny, alcohol use
an; HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! have some sweet husband material kento to take with you into 2024 :')
In your genkan, Kento kneels to undo the buckle of your heels. They’d been a gift from him not even a year ago — high-end and real leather and more comfortable than most heels, but still a pain in the ass when you've been wearing them for 8 hours. His hands are warm and soothing where they rub gently over your bare heels, setting each foot gently upon the ground afterwards. You’re stuffed from dinner and blinking sleepily, all pliable and softened by an evening of tireless socialisation and too much sake.
“That Yamada fellow,” Kento says. He stands again, brushing imaginary dirt from his suit. “I don’t like him.”
He takes the jacket from your hands, your handbag, too; hangs them up on the coat rack and then deals with his own coat, and you watch him all the while. Perhaps you had a little too much beer, because even as he speaks, you can only stare at him — the thickness of his forearms as he wrangles off his coat, the sleeves of his shirt pushed up to reveal veins and corded muscle; his handsome side-profile, his strong nose and furrowed brow and angular cheekbones… If you were more artistically inclined you have no doubt he’d be your muse. It seems especially criminal to think that Kento has never considered himself particularly attractive. Your head thuds back against the front door.
Blinking away your sudden haze — alcohol or fatigue, you don’t know —, you peer over at him, curious. “Oh?”
There's an answering hum. Neither of you move — still standing in the genkan, you in your summer dress and woollen jumper, makeup done to the nines, slumped against the door. Him in his khaki slacks and button up, handsome as ever, leaning against the wall. You're in a bubble, here — halfway between the izakaya you'd spent the evening at and your bed. It's timeless, quiet. The only thing to be heard is the distant sound of traffic through your living room windows, just around the corner.
You tilt your head in thought. “I mean, he’s a clown, but he’s harmless. Just stupid."
"I don't like the way he spoke to your friend," Kento says, nose wrinkling. Ah, yes — you knew it had bothered him. Yamada is what one would call dead from the neck up — an idiot. How he's stayed employed so long is a mystery to you, especially with the amount of complaints he's garnered from female employees. He's not a creep (mostly), just ignorant and annoying. Thinks women should quit their jobs when they get pregnant, thinks maternity leave is a scam, thinks women are too emotional for leadership positions. Tonight he'd made the mistake of ordering your friend to serve him a drink in front of Kento — not the worst thing he's ever said or done, but it irked Kento nonetheless. You'd seen your boyfriend's eyes narrow and quickly shooed Yamada away to another table with the allure of more alcohol, and hoped that was the end of it. Clearly not. "Does he speak to you like that?"
"Mm. Sometimes. I guess he didn't tonight because you were there. You're pretty scary, Ken."
He only watches you, frowning. Doesn't take the bait. "Nothing's been done about him?"
"Mm-mm. We used to report him a bunch, but it's more trouble than it's worth." Another beat of silence, and you shoot him a smile. "Don't worry about it, Ken-chan. It doesn't bother us anymore. It's like working with an overgrown child."
"A man like that shouldn't have a job in the first place."
Finally, you push yourself off of the door — stroll slowly to where he stands, arms raised to loop around his neck. His frustration is silent — it most often is — but he accepts your embrace easily. His hands plant themselves over your lower back, warm and calloused, and a deep sigh filters through his chest. His nose nudges against the crook of your neck. "Sorry. None of that is your fault."
"Mm. It's okay." Exhaling, you let your eyes flutter shut. The entirety of your weight rests on him at this point. The drunkenness is wearing off, leaving only a pervasive lethargy and meddling craving for something requiring far more energy than you have. "Hey, Ken. Wanna fuck?"
Kento's breath hitches in your ear, before he lets out a laugh. His hand brushes up your spine, and you don’t bother to suppress the shiver it sends through you. "You're so vulgar. And you're almost falling asleep, darling."
“Mm.” Nudging your nose against the side of his neck and revelling in the goosebumps that rise there, you press your chest harder against him. “I have enough in me for a quickie.”
"We're getting you to bed."
“Hm? No! The night’s not over yet, Ken…” And yet you barely fight as he urges you forward, still wound around each other like a ball of string. Through the darkened living room and past the shape of your kotatsu, down the hallway and past the pantry and bathroom until you reach the bedroom. The lights are flicked on, dimmed to something more palatable, and Kento nudges you towards the bed.
You collapse like a sack of potatoes. You realise quite suddenly that you’d expended most all of your energy for the day and were truly running on fumes — considering you can count the amount of coworkers you like on one hand, and alcohol cuts your temper short. Somehow you still have enough energy to prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as Kento stands in the doorway of the en suite, rifling through the cabinet until he comes away with some cotton pads and a bottle of micellar water.
You know you’re watching him like he’s hung the stars in the sky. You know your eyes are wide and glassy when he kneels by the bed and begins to wipe your makeup off, unfathomingly gentle — because he meets your gaze just once and laughs softly, all too fond, before returning to task. Swiping softly over your lips and under your eyes, all traces of mascara and eyeliner and concealer and whatever-else gone within a few cotton pads. Then he traces over your face with another one just to be sure — or perhaps just to map out your features under his fingers, indulgent and sweet. When he’s finished, he doesn’t leave, though — just stays and watches you in silence.
“Kento,” you say quietly.
“Mm?”
“I want you.”
His thumb nudges away a strand of hair tickling your temple. “You have me, darling.”
“Hm.” That’s not what you meant, and he knows it, but you’re too tired to actually have him, anyways. Your eyes flutter shut, heavy and sticky, and he takes that as his cue to continue — pulling down your tights from your legs, unzipping the side of your dress. Lifting it over your head and replacing it with a large t-shirt that you vaguely register as his; and then leaving you to deal with himself, presumably. You hear the rustling of fabric and the thud of them hitting the floor, the metallic clink of his belt buckle.
Still — a budding sort of heat warms your stomach; hides itself beneath your ribs and wriggles about in your mind. It’s annoying, pressing, unfaltering — flickering thoughts about how firm his biceps are; how big and warm his hands feel when they spread your legs and press your knees against your chest; how his body covers yours entirely in the throes of it all, hot and heavy and sweating with the heat of it all; the skill of his tongue, fuck, long laves of it against your—
“Asleep already?”
“Mm-mm.” You crack an eye open; glance up at him in all his glory, plaid flannel pants hanging low around his hips, a white t-shirt covering his chest. “You’re so unfair.”
As you close your eyes again, you feel him climb onto the bed beside you — the mattress dipping under his knee, the blankets rustling, and then a large hand plants itself upon your stomach. “Why’s that?”
You don’t say anything, only arching (perhaps a bit wantonly) into his hand.
“Ah. I see.” The hand smooths up and down, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your skin, and a deep exhale filters out of his chest. You can almost hear the fond smile in his voice when he bows his head towards you and says: “Do you really need an orgasm to sleep?”
“Are you—” Yawn— “Are you teasing me right now?”
“No.” His fingers twitch subtly against you.
“Because that would be mean, Ken-chan.”
“I’m never mean to you. In fact—” His fingers begin a slow descent downwards, bunching your t-shirt just under the curve of tour ribcage. They leave goosebumps in their wake on their path below the elasticated hem of your panties— “I’m far too lenient where you’re concerned.”
His fingers are almost icy cold in comparison to the sweltering heat between your thighs. At that first brush against you, you give out an embarrassingly high-pitched sigh, but you have no energy to feel any shame. It's not your usual reaction to such simple touch — not the wet mess between your legs, nor the noises that are being wrung from you — but between the alcohol and syrup-like lethargy… Needless to say, Kento’s fingers are thoroughly soaked within a few moments of practiced petting, gliding between your puffy lips to where you’re willing and weeping.
His fingers — those damned fingers, careful and practiced and just slightly calloused — dip momentarily into you, and you hear his breath hitch in time with yours. Your limbs are tense, now, no longer splayed every-which-way with little care; they’re coiled tightly, excitable pressure locked away in every joint, twitching with each mote of pleasure he gives you.
And oh, does he give. Your stomach goes rigid with it. He’s only tracing his fingers around your opening — watching you with eagle eyes when your stomach jumps every time he passes over a particularly sensitive patch of skin. It’s not enough to start those sparks of pleasure aflame in the pit of your chest, those involuntary contractions that make your mouth salivate — but it’s well more than enough to begin to kindle them. More than enough to get your back arching at the momentary entrance of a single finger.
“Hm.” Your sigh edges on a whimper, tapering out as you attempt to regain control of yourself. “That’s — that’s not gonna do very much, Ken.”
He doesn’t answer, at least not verbally. The finger pops back out — slickened and shiny — but there’s little time for complaint. Almost instantly his fingers dart up to your clit, circling the hardened bead in a pace you can only describe as indulgent. Indulgent for you or for him, you can’t tell, but you make a sound like the air’s been punched out of you regardless.
It’s just the start of it — you know, those tingles that begin in your clit and warm in your stomach, sent as shivers up your spine and your ribs, pooling in your nipples and fizzing in your fingertips. Just the start, but enough to have you squirming, pressing up to the few fingers that pleasure you. At your side, Kento huffs a laugh. He presses himself closer to you — dips his head so that his nose nudges against your jaw, hot air warming up your neck.
“Is that enough?” His voice is, somehow, more husky than usual — but still unerringly adoring.
“Uhm—” Then, hips jumping out into his touch — unconsciously, might you add— “Just — faster, please.”
“Greedy.” He means to admonish you, but Kento is no less indulgent than he usually is; pressing down harder, petting at you with wet sounds that reverberate through the room — shlikshlikshlik— even adding another finger to the mix, like he simply can’t hold himself back any further. It’s liable to drive you insane, the sheer sensuality of it all — the shivery, excitable pleasure that zips up and down your legs, the stuttering breath in your chest. When you gasp out, hardly able to hold your sounds in your throat, his breath comes out laboured. “There you go, darling. Take what you need.”
You’re humping into his hand like an excitable virgin, panting low in your chest as his fingers and palm grind against the slippery flesh of you. It should be embarrassing, the raw abandon you move with, but there’s nothing but fondness in Kento’s face, and your need burns you up from the inside. You’d push him onto his back and have your way with him if you had the strength — for now, you can only continue to flex your aching thighs up, shivering as the tell-tale shocks of your impending orgasm begin to creep along your spine. It's never usually this quick.
“Fuck— F-Fuck, Kento — oh, I’m—” Your mouth falls open, knuckles aching where they grasp at the sheets — your body tensing all over, waiting for the dam to break, for your body to lose complete control of itself — “Hah, I’m gonna cum — oh, I’m cumming, what the fuck, I’m—”
In seconds, Kento’s mouth is on yours — sloppy and messy, the way he only gets in the throes of passion when he cares more about your pussy squeezing his fingers than any sense of propriety. You’re not even lucid enough to kiss him back — your entire body, entire mind, is trembling with your orgasm; pussy squeezing uncontrollably around him, clit throbbing against his palm. Your toes curl and your legs kick out, frantic to ground yourself in some way, but—
“Mmf— God—” What feels like minutes later, gasping, you pull away from Kento’s lips, shuddering heavily as air filters back into your spent, pleasure-ridden body. Your entire lower half feels numb, staticky and half-dead; your head swims with a dizzying mix of endorphins and fatigue — the sudden hours of socialising and drinking hit you like a brick. If you had been sleepy before, you were bone-dead now.
You’re still twitching with the aftershocks of it all when Kento places a chaste kiss upon your forehead, slipping his fingers out of you — and, not even realising that your eyes had closed, you crack open one to peer at him.
Kento smiles, and pets his clean hand over your hair. A single strand of blond sits awry, drifting low over his forehead; between his legs, a large tent presses up against his pyjama pants. Other than that, he’s perfect — you’d never guess he just finger-blasted you to mars and back. “How are we doing?”
Limp and syrupy-soft, you blink up at him. “Hi.”
He watches as your eyes drift shut again, head flopping sideways to rest against the pillows. His question of “Bed time?” is a rhetorical one; nevertheless, you give him a half-baked semblance of a nod.
“Mhm.”
“Alright. I’m going to clean up.”
“Mmf.”
Chuckling to himself, he begins to shift to get off the bed — but your hand grasps his wrist just before he can get out of reach. He glances down at you. “Yes?”
“I’m gunna… give you… such… good head… in the morning…” A large snore follows your statement, and your hand falls to your side — and just like that, after almost an hour of bribing and convincing and urging, you’re dead to the world. Snoring your little head away and curled up towards his side of the bed, like you're waiting for him.
Kento shakes his head to himself all the way to the bathroom — off the bed, across the carpet, into the ensuite. As he stands in the bathroom, washing his hands under that cold, fluorescent light, he notices his smile hadn’t dimmed, not even once.
Never a dull moment, he supposes. He can stand to live with that.
꒰੭ ﾟ ׅ GUAVA CANDY! ﾟ ꒱ no smut, just you and kento making out!
synopsis ⨟ you ate the last guava candy that your husband wanted to eat, you apologize and offer to buy more but he has another idea.
cw ⨟ suggestive
you’re sitting on the couch popping in the sage green hard candy in your mouth and sucking on it lightly. throwing the wrapper and the empty bag away in the trash. kento was at work and you didn’t expect him to come home so soon, until you heard the door knob twist and footsteps trudge through the door. you look behind you, kento has a deep frown on his face as he walks through the door, kicking off his shoes and coat. he walks through the kitchen and see you on the couch. setting his briefcase on the counter walking into the kitchen island.
“welcome home, ken.” you flash him a smile. you notice he’s looking for something. he’s opening cabinets, checking cupboards, drawers, you can see his expression is determined to find whatever he’s looking for. but you continue scrolling on your phone, until his voice echos through the room.
“did you eat the last guava candy?” he asks, staring right at you with those piercing hazel eyes. you can feel him staring at your soul basically. you turn your head and raise an eyebrow, “what?” you ask with the candy poking through your cheek. he sighs and shakes his head, “oh sorry ken i didn’t know-“ he chuckles sadly, like a sad kid. “it’s fine.” he interrupts you. but you start to sit up, feeling guilty he was looking forward to eating his favorite candy.
“nonono.. i’m sorry ken, i can buy more for you!..” you insist. guilt welling deep in your stomach, kento starts approaching the coach as he stands up infront of you.
“there’s no need.” he replies sheepishly. he sounds casual but his expression says it all, his eyebrows are pointed together with his lips in a thin line, damn he looks fine like this but also terrifying at the same time. can someone really be this pissed about candy?
he sits on the couch next to you and looks up at the ceiling, memorizing every detail about it, like it was the most interesting thing in the world. silence filled the air as you just.. stared at him while he stared at the ceiling. was he high?- was he drunk?- was he upset? gosh. you couldn’t even tell, his poker face was too good.
“kento..” you finally spoke after 5 minutes of pure silence. “hm?” he hummed, looking at you with a more relaxed face. you exhaled in relief.
“i can.. buy more?..” “no thanks.. i have something else better in mind.” he replies in a monotone voice, you tilted your head. letting out a chuckle you didn’t mean to let out,
“what?” you asked again, this time more curious about his intentions, “tsk.” he scoffed, grabbing you by the waist and lifting you on his lap, you fumbled and almost fell down but his grip kept you steady as you placed your hands on his chest, straddling him.
with a satisfied hum he grabbed you by the back of your hair, pulling you against his lips, you gasped into the kiss, his tongue sliding between your teeth, finding your tongue as he tilted your head, you didn’t resist, he groaned satisfied. feeling the sweet taste of the candy lingering on your tongue. your tongues danced together, the bittersweet taste of his tongue mixing with yours.
you whimpered, trying to pull away but he held the back of your head tighter, his tongue sliding to your cheek, forcing your head deeper into his mouth as he took the guava candy from your mouth to his, then letting you pull away.
you panted, your hands still on his shoulders while he looked at you with a sly and mischievous grin, like he was nate jacobs form euphoria.
“seriously?.. that’s all you wanted to do?” your face deadpanned, he nodded as he chuckled,
“yup.” he replied with zero guilt or shame.
you couldn’t help but laugh and slap his chest lightly,
“die.” you joked and that got another life out of him.
kento came through the door holding his briefcase with a pissed and tired look on his face, you were sitting on the couch with your arms crossed, your bag next to you. you look behind you and when you see kento. fury and anger just rushes to your mind. your eyebrows furrowed.
kento barely looked at you, taking his shoes off and dropping his keys and briefcase on the counter with a click. the echo made you shiver but you stood up. catching his attention as he froze in place, turning around slowly to face you,
“not even a hi?” you cut through the awkwardness that held heavy in the air, he shrugs unbothered before crossing his arms, mirroring your stance. you couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not.
“i’ve had a long day.” he replies, his voice deep and raspy. “so long you couldn’t even greet your wife?” you snap back, trying to not sound as irritated as you were, he clicks his teeth and scoffs. a nasty and annoyed grin on his face. “i’m tired and i just came back from a 9 - 5 soul sucking shift, y/n.”
“so?”
“what do you mean, so?”
“you didn’t even look at me, let alone notice me.”
he grunted, running a hand over his face, his tie was loose and you noticed his attire was flimsy looking, not his usual formal and precise look. he always looked prepared and relaxed. but now, he looks worn out. you almost felt guilty but you had your reasons, your rights.
another long string of silence held in the air, your tongue runs against the inside of your cheek while waiting for him to answer, you raise your eyebrow while blinking, holding intense eye contact. he pulls away. his shoulders tense.
you scoff, grabbing your bag. “i’m leaving.” his ears pick it up immediately, “what? where are you gonna go?” he takes a step forward, but you take a step back.
“motel.” you reply, blunt and honest.
“hold on- y/n-“
“no!” you cut him off, stopping in place as your patience snaps.
“we can talk about this.” he tries to comply with you. you can hear the restraint in his voice. like he doesn’t wanna sound genuine, authentic, desperate.
“talk about what?” you wave your arms around to emphasize your words, “i try to understand your situation, i really do!- i try to be helpful, i ask when you’re going to be home, im left on read. you tell me you’ll be home at 8, you’re home at 2 am or- maybe even later!..” you try and hold tears in your eyes. catching your throat in a lump before you continue,
“and you don’t even look at me, i’m just co existing in your life, you don’t even act like my husband anymore. what the fuck! nanami! i try and try and try, i don’t even get a thank you!..”
before you even know it, you feel tears well up in your eyes, looking away before you start sobbing on the floor infront of him. you slump your bag over your shoulder and turn away, wiping your eyes as you walk towards the door.
and kento is panicking over here, he inhales sharply, he looks more tense than how he is in battles, he looks almost terrified even. everything is a blur for you. and everything is a haze for him.
“no- no..” he whispers under his breath, speaking without thinking. he thinks he’s gonna fall, he feels like he’s gonna fall. he picks himself up and keeps himself steady while he picks up his feet and just paces to you. like if you left his sight, you would disappear forever.
“y/n..!” he yells out in a rasp. he pulls your wrist and wraps his arms around your waist. you freeze in your tracks,
“nanami-“ “kento.” “i- kento..” your tone softens, “let go..” “no.. don’t-“ he mumbles, “don’t go..” he mumbles in a desperate and airy tone. breathing heavily against your neck.
“i- dont know what to say- but please but.. don’t go..” he pleads, its almost pathetic honestly. he spins you around, “i’ve been too tired- so tired, and im so sorry.. for not appreciating you. tell me how to do better, what to do. my issues are no excuse for the hurt i’ve caused. forgive me, y/n.. hit me if you want- but you’re staying.”
you couldn’t talk. you were just speechless, his expression was a puppy. you could feel his knees tremble.
“no- nanami.”
“kento.” he corrects you again,
“kento im going.”
“no.”
“yes!”
“..no-“
“yes!”
“no!”
silence fills the air as you stare at him with your arms crossed,
“..you- you know… i had a dream.. where- we didn’t have this life.. where you and me both worked at a laundromat..”
you raise your eyebrow and look at him like he’s insane, which. he sounds crazy.
“what does this have to do with anything?”
“just.. let me continue.” he presses his hands on your shoulders. looking at you with desperate eyes as he waits for permission. you sigh reluctantly,
“proceed.” you say trying to sound annoyed but genuinely curious as what he wants to say.
“we worked at a laundromat.. and we- we were just partners..”
“okay wow.”
“no- its the truth..”
“okay im leaving,”
“nononono!.. wait wait.. y/n.. l/n-.. n/n..” his voice softens drastically. still holding the door knob so you couldn’t leave,
“we weren’t lovers. we weren’t anything like how we are now!.. we were just.. partners.”
“..your point is?..” you urged him to hurry up whatever weird dream he had.
“i-.. the point is, im scared that will be us. but, no matter what point we are in life, whether we’re old, live in an apartment connected to the laundromat we work at and just do laundry and pay taxes for the rest of our lives.. promise me- we’ll still love each other. we’ll still have the sacred rituals as we have now. promise me.”
“i still don’t forgive you.”
“but you’re still here willingly so that’s still a win..”
silenced. you sigh,
“yeah, okay.” you clear your throat.
“i promise.”
“about what.”
“that.. uhm.. in another life, or whatever.. in another life, i’ll still love you even if we’re old, and just doing laundry and taxes together..”
he sighs, pulling you in his arms, you hug him back reluctant.”
It’s almost the seventh of July, you know what that means. Tanabata is coming up, the one day of the year when the Orihime and Hikoboshi meet at the milky way, if the sky is clear at least. I sat at my desk, trying to come up with a wish I want to come true on that day. I was at lost for thought when my best friend, Hinami, approached me abruptly.
“Y/N-chan you still haven’t thought of a wish yet?” She asked me, looking at my blank piece of paper.
I took a deep sigh and answered, “Nope, I don’t really have any wishes for this year. What did you write?”
Hinami lifted up the slit piece of paper she was holding and pushed it in my face, “I want money. LOTS of it!” She shouted ecstatically.
I pushed her paper out of my face, “That doesn’t really help” I told her.
“Well, you are on the wealthy side in this school… and you have a 4.0 GPA... but YOU DON’T HAVE A BOYFRIEND!” she slammed her hands on my desk for the last part.
“W-WHA? I don’t need one Hinami-chan!! Stop talking crazy!” I shouted in a yelling tone.
“Come on! This is our last year in high school and you haven’t had a single relationship. It won’t hurt to wish for one!” and she swiped the Sharpie out of my hands and wrote it down:
彼氏をもらうように！ ～(Y/N)
She hung it on the wall along with everyone else’s wishes.
“I hate you” I told her coldly with a glare.
“I hate you too” She said sarcastically with a big smile.
~Time Skip to Lunch~
Hinami and I stuck our desks as usual and took out our bentos to eat.
“Ittadakimasu~!” We shouted, and right when I was about to dig into my food, Yudai Chiba, the school’s most popular boy, approached me along with a bunch of his fangirls trailing behind him.
“Hey Y/N-chan, I know this sounds abrupt… but would you like to come with me to the Tanabata Festival?” He asked smoothly, which made the whole class fill with whispers.
“...WHAT?!” I shouted in shock.
“I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, and I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while, may I?” and that caused the fangirls behind him to grieve, whine, and glare at me.
Hinami reached over to my ear and whispered, “I think your Tanabata wish came true early! Come on just say yes!”
“Okay...sure! Why not.” I replied to Yudai shyly.
“Cool! Meet me tomorrow at the park a few blocks from here. Ciao!” He stated with a wave, and his fangirls continued trailing behind him, still giving me a glare, the class slowly raised its volume once more.
“Oh my gosh Y/N-chan! You’re going out with the most popular guy in this school!” Hinami shouted at the top of her lungs.
“That’s great and all, but he’s not really my type Hinami-chan…” I responded with a sigh.
“Just go on the date and see how it goes. I’m going with Ryosuke-kun so I’ll try and find you there!” She decided. I simply nod when I heard loud yelling and banging against the walls. The entire class walks in the hallway to see what’s going on.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT YUDAI?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!!” A man cursed and threw one of those small bookshelves at my date who dodged it.
“Are you okay Kento-kun? You’re not acting like yourself…” Yudai asked him.
Kento Nakajima was another popular boy, but goes by the name ‘loveholic’. He flirts with nearly every girl in the school, but hasn’t approached me even once. I’m guessing he might have something against me.
“KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF OF Y/N-CHAN!” Kento continued, still in his screaming tone. Wait...what?!
“What? Why her?” Yudai asked him. Without replying, Kento stormed off and out of sight, leaving all of us in a shocked and confused state.
“I think your wish worked too well” Hinami whispered to me.
~~Time Skip to right before the Tanabata Festival~~
I slipped on the yukata I had in my closet, just waiting for this special occasion. I also wear my hair up and slide into my wooden shoes. I decided not to put on makeup because I’ve never done it before and afraid I would make a mess.
I walk outside and head for the park Yudai wanted to meet me at, when all of a sudden, “Y/N-chan!” a man yelled from a far distance. I turned around to see it was… Kento, wearing a yukata. Once he was right in front of me, he reached down to his legs to grab his breath.
“Did you want something?” I asked him confused. After he grabbed his breath, he took my hand and pulled me down the street. I try to let go of his grasp but it was really strong.
“Let me go! What are you doing!” I yelled at him, but he wouldn’t give me a response. He continued dragging me to the opposite direction of the park. He finally let go after a while but when I looked around, we were on top of a grassy hill overlooking the festival down below.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Are you thinking correctly? KENTO-KUN ANSWER ME-” and he wrapped his arms around me, causing me unable to finish my sentence.
“You really want to go with that guy? I’m pretty sure I’m more your type” He replied, continuing the hug.
I squirmed out of his hug and lectured, “So? He asked me out! You can’t drag whatever girl you want on a date! This is unbelievable. You probably only brought me here because you don’t want Yudai-kun to be with anyone, I can’t belie-”
“Y/N-CHAN I LOVE YOU!” Kento shouted at the top of his lungs, leaving me confused and blushing.
“W-what…?” I asked him.
“I’ve been flirting with everyone, but it’s not like I like them or anything, but whenever I’d try to approach you, I could feel my chest beating like crazy and I just didn’t have the courage to. When Yudai-kun asked you out yesterday that got me really mad, and it was after when I realized I loved you these past three years…” Kento confessed, looking away from me because of his embarrassment.
“O-oh…” I responded, “but why me? I know plenty more people who are prettier and nicer.”
“Yeah, but I don’t like girls who constantly think about boys. I mean, you were going on a date with no makeup on! You look pretty even without cosmetics. And the entire school knows you’re the valedictorian.” He complimented, making me blush.
“Thanks….” I replied.
“...can I kiss you?” Kento asked, making me blush a deeper red. When I looked at him, his face was red as well.
“W-what?” I asked, confirming I heard correctly.
“Can I…” He took a big gulp, “Kiss you?” I do a shy nod in response.
He faces me and reached down for my lips, interlocking them with his. He reached his hands around my waist, and I snaked my hands up to comb his dark brown locks as we were kissing. We let go to gasp for air and looked into eachothers eyes.
“You're a good kisser for someone who’s never done it before.” Kento told me.
I replied back, “So are you.”
Kento faced the festival down below and asked, “Do you wanna head back down to the festival? It’s not too late”
I looked in the same direction and decided, “Let’s stay up here. It’s too loud down there.”
“If you say so” Kento said.
We sat down on the grassy hill, and I rested my head in the nook of Kento’s neck, and we cuddled the entire night, watching the fireworks launching into the air. It looks like my wish came true after all.
