your husband, nanami kento, disrupts your pilates session?! ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ac. thatsallitchief
“next, we’re gonna lift the right arm with the left leg and vice versa! thaaaat’s it.”
grunts and groans fill the living room as you desperately try to keep up with the lady on the youtube video doing pilates.
yep, apparently this is your new fixation (starting today).
but… you aren’t exactly the most active person there is.
“fuck!” your head slams against the floor mat, neck muscles already strained to the max.
your husband—nanami kento—ever so attentive, looked up from the novel he’s reading to take a peek at you.
the corner of his lips hold back from a smirk and you can already predict what he’s about to say.
“what.”
“nothing, darling.” he hides his face behind the book, and you’re seething with anger.
as such, you storm over to nanami and straddle his lap, throwing his book to the side of the couch.
he bursts into a laugh, covering his mouth with his palm and it just aggravates you on how adorable he is.
“what? what is it? why’re you laughing, huh?” you even start laughing too! what the hell!
nanami wraps his big arms around your body and plasters kisses all over your face.
“stop-“ kiss. “-it,” kiss. “kentoooo!”
he squeezes your cheeks and shivers from the amount of cuteness aggression he has right now. “my love, i was simply enjoying the view. you looked so adorable all focused and grumpy.”
“i’m not grumpy.” you pout. he kisses your pout away.
you sigh, “maybe i’m not meant to be a pilates girl.”
“you’re my girl, that counts for something, right?” he says softly. you smack his chest and giggle. “you’re so corny”
“you’re corni…er. i don’t see why you need to do all this when your body’s perfect already.” nanami gently swipes the hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear.
“i just wanna be healthyyyyuh. plus i’ve got the mobility of an 80 year old, ken. i’m only 20!”
he kisses you again. and again. and again, until he finally whispers in your ear.
“let me worship you, baby. you’ll sweat more from it than dumb pilates.”
Nanami had never considered himself a jealous man.
possessive, perhaps, in small ways. protective? certainly.
but jealousy? it was messy. the sort of thing that clouded judgement and made people act irrationally.
Nanami preferred facts.
and the fact was that you were free to spend time with anyone. the fact that your smile didn't belong to him. and the fact that he trusted you completely.
but why—why had he spent the last twenty minutes staring at his phone?
the photo on the screen was harmless for god's sake!
a group picture from a company dinner. you sat near the center, smiling oh so sweetly to the camera.
but the problem is there was a man sitting beside you.
nothing appropriate or suspicious. just a coworker. a coworker whose arm was slung casually over the back of your chair.
a coworker who seemed to appear in every photos your friend posted. a coworker whose name you had mentioned bunch of times this week without realizing it.
Nanami locked his phone and set it face down on the table.
he hated this feeling. Not because he distrusted you.
there was no reason for the knot tightening in his chest.
there is no logical explanation for why he suddenly found himself wondering whether you smiled that brightly around everyone. or whether you looked at everyone the way you looked at him.
the apartment door opened suddenly, snapping him out of his trance.
"Kento?" your voice drifted through the hallway.
you stepped into the living room, smiling when you saw him.
"There you are."
Nanami returned the smile automatically.
but as you sat beside him and started talking about your day, he found himself listening for one name. and when it finally appeared in the conversation? his jaw tightened.
your words faltered. "Kento?" you looked at him carefully.
for a moment, neither of you spoke.
then, quietly, you asked. "Is there something wrong?"
he met your gaze briefly before looking away.
the silenced stretched. not uncomfortable, just heavy. Nanami wasn't entirely sure how to answer.
you knew your husband too well to notice when something was off.
"Kento."
"Hm."
"You're doing that thing."
his brows furrowed slightly. "What thing?"
"The thing where you pretend nothing's bothering you."
you moved closer on the couch, turning toward him fully.
"Did something happen at work?"
"No."
"Did someone annoy you?"
"Not particularly."
"Are you tired?"
"Always."
your expression only softened.
your fingers reached for his hand without thinking. you interwined your fingers with his.
"C'mon, talk to me?"
you waited patiently, giving him space to speak.
Nanami hated that he was making this difficult.
eventually, he said, "Who is he?"
you blinked. "...who?"
"The coworker."
your eyes widened slightly. "Oh."
for several seconds, you said nothing.
then, "Are you jealous?"
Nanami closed his eyes briefly. "Perhaps," he sighed.
your expression softened even further.
you shifted closer until your shoulder rested against his.
"I found him annoying," you started. "He talks too much, he steals food, he's arrogant too."
the corner of Nanami's mouth twitched. you caught it immediately.
"There he is."
"I was here the entire time."
"No, you were somewhere in your own head."
you brushed your thumb over his knuckles.
"I don't smile because of him," you sighed. "I smile because i was having fun."
his gaze softened. "I know," he admitted.
"Then why are you suffering by yourself?"
a faint huff escaped him, not quite a laugh.
"Because," he pulled your joined hands closer. "I was hoping it would stop if i ignored it."
"Did it work?"
"No."
you laughed. "That was unfortunate."
he laughed along with you. "It was."
the knot in his chest began to loosen.
not because the jealousy had vanished. but because you were looking at him exactly the way you always had.
nanami was tired. and reasonably so, your child kept kicking your belly at night, causing you to wake up in the middle of the night.
you felt awful. sure there wasn't much you could do, but he had work early in the morning. waking up constantly at night to make sure you were okay was catching up to him. you could tell by the way he moved, the circles under his eyes, causing his attentiveness to slip.
and nanami was really attentive.
he knew you were pregnant long before you did. he researched symptoms to be sure. by the time you complain about something, he already had three solutions and a doctor-approved article.
he saved up personal days off so he could take time off to stay home with you. your comfort and health were his top priority.
if your feet ache, he’s on the floor in front of the couch before you can protest. tie loosened, sleeves rolled, gently massaging like it’s the most natural place in the world for him to be.
he keeps a running list on his phone of everything you casually mention needing. vitamins you’re low on, a snack you liked once, the brand of tea that helped your nausea. you never see him write it down, but it always appears.
when mood swings hit and you snap at him, he doesn’t take it personally. he just listens, steady, patient, reminding you he’s not going anywhere.
he talks to the baby when he thinks you’re asleep. low, calm voice, telling them about the kind of world he hopes they’ll grow up in and how hard he’ll work to make it safer.
anytime you attempted to pick anything slightly heavy up, he'd gently take it out of your hands without a word.
he scheduled all your pregnancy related appointments for you, insisting that you didn't need to stress over things like that. that was what he was there for.
he times his overtime carefully. nanami already hates staying late, but now he hates the idea of you waiting up more. he comes home as early as possible, briefcase set aside, attention fully yours.
and every night, before bed, he presses a gentle kiss to your stomach like a promise.
( 18 + ) ⤷ your typically vanilla husband accidentally discovers a new kink
for the record, this had been entirely your idea.
it was always you with the dirtier mind, eyebrows raised suggestively whenever you brought the idea of trying out a new fantasy to the table. and it was always him with a flush to his cheeks, cock tenting in his boxers at the pure filth dripping from your mouth. sex never required any embellishment for nanami, and it never required toys or over-complicated lingerie that only added layers and inefficiency.
it was simple for him. he didn’t need a maid costume, or roleplay, or even your clothes to be halfway off to get rock hard — all these years together, and a single smile from you could still do the trick. but he also firmly abided by the principle of happy wife, happy life — and that meant that he tried his best to indulge you, following along at your directive, no matter how outrageous your suggestions got.
except — well, nanami supposed he was doing a hell of a lot more than just following along tonight. he was straight up thrusting into you in the corner booth of a seedy bar, feigning composure with his cock buried in you and your dress bunched indecently high. you’d whispered the idea with a teasing lilt, thinking he’d brush it off like he always did — but maybe he had a few glasses too many, because he’d only adjusted his tie and muttered, then go on, get on my lap if you’re so bold.
now, your walls were clenching desperately around him, thighs trembling from the weight of his cock pushing against your walls. a cute liquor flush stained your cheeks, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you tried to ease yourself down the full length of him without moaning too loud.
“you have to relax, baby,” he murmured, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “you’ll draw more attention if you keep tensing like that.” his hands slid up under your dress to steady your hips, thumb lazily stroking your skin like he wasn't splitting you open on his cock in public.
for a man who always insisted he didn’t need games, toys, or theatrics, nanami sure found himself savouring every filthy second of this — the secrecy, the danger, the way your walls fluttered around him every time someone passed too close. but this went far deeper than indulging you, or even his own enjoyment —no, he was discovering something about himself tonight.
and if your typically vanilla husband just uncovered a taste for fucking you in public… you weren’t sure if you’d created a monster or if it had been lying in wait all this time, but you knew you would be the one paying for it later.
dating nanami was still new. new enough that you still got butterflies whenever he reached for your hand. new enough that every kiss made you feel unreal.
new enough that you were standing by his front door at eleven thirty at night, wondering whether it was too soon to ask if he wanted you to stay.
so you didn't.
"i should probably get going" you say instead.
nanami looked up from where he had been cleaning the dishes from earlier dinner. "already?" he says quickly, sounding.. disappointed?
you both froze. you weren't exactly expecting that.
"i mean," he clears his throat. "it's late."
"it is." you say, frowning.
and as if he could read your thoughts, he asks.
"do you.. wanna stay the night? i don't want you to go."
he sounded vulnerable, unlike him. while you were all up in your mind, he had walked over to you. "hm?" he hums, his hand reaching for your cheek.
you were getting so red, his words alone made you so giddy, and his touch? oh god.
you finally let out a breath and smile, like you were hoping he says that for weeks. "yes, okay. i'll stay."
he smiles, tucking your hair behind your ear. "thank you, love." he leans down and kisses you. it's slow. gentle. the kind of kiss that makes your chest ache in the best way possible.
divider cr pixopix. im sorry im still bad at writing stuff but ughh i tryyy. also thank u sosososos much for 35 followers i gen love you all
in a relationship, he’s measured with affection in a way that’s intentional, never careless. he shows love in structure and reliability.
he walks you home even when it’s out of his way, remembers your favorite things, things you mention only once. he reminds you to eat when you’re busy and stressed. knows or exact orders.
you, on the other hand, have always wanted to be closer to people.
you’ve wanted the hugs, the leaning, the casual warmth of being allowed into someone’s space. you’ve watched friends and couples do it so easily—arms looped, hands intertwined, shoulders pressed together.
you wondered what it would feel like not to hesitate every time.
the want has always been there but you’ve never acted on it. ever. not with your family. not with your friends.
you’re awkward. you overthink. your body always manages to freeze even when your heart says go.
you’re touch starved. so what? it’s all you’ve ever known. but definitely not because you don’t want it. you just… never know how to reach for it.
you’re clingy. only in your head.
and nanami kento made it worse for you. your want for him screams at you louder than bombs.
every time he sat beside you, you felt the pull toward him like gravity. every time he stood too close to your liking, your arms ached with the urge to hug him, to be hugged, just once, just to know what it would feel like.
you’d imagine it vividly—his weight, his warmth, the way he’d feel solid under your hands—and then immediately scold yourself for even thinking it.
you stay careful like usual.
too careful.
when he sits next to you during work dinners, you both leave a respectful inch of space between your shoulders, even though every part of you wants to close it. you keep your hands busy.
but at times, you let it slip, forgetting yourself. one hand lifts, hesitates, then falls back into your lap like it forgot what it was reaching for.
your urges never go away with time. they only get worse.
when you start dating?
it doesn’t feels real.
being with nanami feels like a dream you’re going to wake up from. you expect the ground to vanish beneath your feet or for him to suddenly tell you there’s been a mistake. him choosing you feels impossible.
the need hums under everything—conversations and silence alike. you want to lean onto his shoulder. you want to tuck yourself against his side. you want to hug him and feel him hug you back.
instead, you hover. you angle closer. you daydream the same exact way you did before you started dating. it feels like nothing has changed since he confessed and you confessed back.
you’re terrified he’ll notice your odd hesitation. terrified he’ll think you’re needy or that he’ll think you don’t know how to show love at all.
the first time you grab his arm it’s an accident.
you’re walking leisurely in the cold together, conversation tapering off, when that familiar ache swells in your chest. before you can think, your fingers curl into his sleeve and you tug his arm toward you, hugging it to your chest.
and then reality crashes back in.
you freeze. your grip loosens. heat rushes to your face.
“sorry,” you mumble, already pulling away. “i didn’t mean to- i just—”
nanami slows.
not flinchingly. not with surprise. just enough that you have to slow too.
he looks down at you, expression calm. not judging or confused. it’s almost like he’s been aware of you all along.
then he gently shifts his arm back into your grasp. settles it there.
“you don’t need to apologize, honey,” he says, the words dripping like the sweetest chocolate. “if you want to hold onto me then please do.”
your breath stutters and you feel too warm despite the cold.
after that, it all becomes a quiet unreal constant.
you hold onto his arm when you walk together. it’s tentative, like you’re testing whether you can really do this or not. you still glance up at him, checking, but he never pulls away. never stiffens.
but still, you always still hesitate. you’re not used to the feeling this comfortable and safe with a person.
when you sit beside him on the couch? you tell yourself you’ll wait. give it a minute. be normal. but it never lasts long. you’re always hyperaware of him. so eventually you find yourself leaning into his broad shoulder.
you brace for him to move.
he never does.
sometimes you catch yourself gripping his bicep too tightly, overwhelmed by how good it feels, and you immediately start to pull back.
that’s when his hand settles over yours.
warm. grounding. unshakable.
he doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t need to. his thumb traces slow, absent minded circles against your knuckles, like reassurance spoken in a language you finally understand.
being with him still feels like a dream you’re afraid to break.
but kento stays and lets you stay too.
soon enough you learn his hugs are devastating, much like everything about him.
the first real one catches you off guard. you’d meant it to be brief—arms barely around him, already preparing to pull away—but he wraps you up properly, one arm firm around your back, the other settling at your shoulder like it belongs there. he holds you close without squeezing or rushing like he assumes you’ll stay as long as you need.
you short circuit.
but then you’re melting into him before you can stop yourself. your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt like it’s the only solid thing in the world.
his warmth seeps into places you didn’t realize were cold as his hand rubs slow circles into your back.
you start finding excuses—lingering goodbyes, quiet moments where you hover close enough that he opens his arms without a word.
he knows you so well it scares you.
each time, it feels like you’re borrowing something you’re afraid will be taken away if you ask for too much.
and somewhere along the way, you realize your touch starvation doesn’t stop there.
it spreads.
you start noticing his mouth even more than you did before.
it’s unfair, really. the way his lips curve when he smiles at you—small, restrained, meant only for you. the way they part when he exhales, when he speaks quietly, when he’s concentrating. you catch yourself staring far too often, eyes dropping to his mouth before you can stop them.
and want them badly to be on yours.
the realization startles you every time.
your body leans forward before your brain catches up. your gaze lingers a second too long and you have to look away, flustered, heart racing, hoping he hasn’t noticed.
but he has.
one evening, you’re sitting close on the couch, supposed to be listening to him talk. your attention keeps slipping—eyes flicking to his mouth, then back up, then down again. each time you tell yourself stop and each time you fail.
nanami pauses mid sentence when it happens for the fifth time.
you look up, startled, only to realize he’s already looking at you. amused.
“are you going to kiss me… or should i?”
you freeze, mortified. your mouth opens, then closes. “i- i wasn’t! i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to stare, i just—”
he shifts closer with a huff.
he lifts a hand, fingers brushing under your chin, just enough to tilt your face toward his.
“you don’t have to apologize,” he says quietly. “i just wanted to know what you wanted.”
you swallow.
the answer feels terrifying and simple all at once.
so you lean in—terribly clumsy and hesitant but there.
more a brush than a kiss at first like you’re testing whether this is real. for half a second, you’re convinced you’ve done it wrong.
then nanami hums softly and closes the distance for you.
the kiss is gentle. he keeps it slow, like he’s letting you adjust, letting you realize you’re allowed to want this. his hand stays warm at your jaw, thumb resting lightly near your cheek, steadying you as your body instinctively leans closer.
you sigh into it without meaning to.
you clutch at him, the ache in your chest easing little by little. when he pulls back, it’s only far enough to rest his forehead against yours.
your breath is shaky. your lips tingle.
nanami doesn’t tease or rush.
“you can do that anytime you want.”
and somehow the tender words makes your chest ache all over again.
18 days without posting anything but i’m back🙏 writers block and stress has been getting to me. but also i really need to stop wanting men who i’ll never have (…both fictional and irl don’t get me started)
₍^. .^₎⟆ synopsis: it's only a month long work trip to new york. but husband!nanami misses his wife so much that it's affecting his mood, his sleep, his eating, his... everything. is 10 days too early for his friends to call you back to tokyo?
tags: husband!nanami x wife!reader; grumpy x sunshine trope; down bad/love sick!nanami, so much fluff it'll make your head hurt, humor (lots), gojo/geto/shoko being good friends, modern AU
word count: 5.6k
DAY 1
when gojo sees the newest intern leave nanami's office with flushed cheeks and tears sitting on the bottom of their lashes, gojo figures it's time to intervene.
he doesn't bother the knock - as part of the perks of being the CEO's best friend and comfortable position as CFO, one could say - as he strolls into nanami's office without a care in the world. nanami, on the other hand, remains scowling and face obscured behind mountains of paperwork and the comically large computer screen.
"kento." gojo sing songs, raising two cups of coffee in nanami's direction. the blonde doesn't even raise his eyes from the computer, exhaustion and annoyance etched into his taut skin.
"what."
nanami's tone is icy and sharp, laced with venom and a clear edge that would make anyone else in the firm tense. gojo chooses to breeze past it, however, setting down a cup right next to nanami and sitting on the only empty space left on the desk with a smirk.
"you're in a good mood today." he drawls sarcastically.
nanami's eyes flicker down to the coffee then to gojo's smirk, his scowl deepening.
"i don't want coffee. also, off."
gojo rolls his eyes.
"c'mon, kendoll, it's not like i'm actually sitting on anything important-"
nanami's wired glasses are whipped off of his face in a millisecond, honey brown eyes darkening to bloody brown as he stares gojo down.
"i said. off."
it's spoken with such finality that not even gojo can think of a retort back, pulling a sour face before sliding off the mahogany desk and into the velvet chair across from nanami instead. the taller man just blinks, lets out a frustrated sigh, then resumes his fervent typing on the computer. it only hits gojo now how unnaturally dark the office is, every curtain pulled shut with only peeks of sunlight shining through the miniscule blinds of the office window.
gojo takes the silence as an opportunity to get a proper look at his friend - nanami's face looks more sunken in then usual. his skin color a bit pale, perhaps from the lack of sunlight, the frown on his lips permanent as he re-highlights something on a case bundle. his blazer has been messily disregarded on a sofa nearby alongside his briefcase, where a bento box sits untouched. the cuffs of nanami's white shirt have been rolled up to around his elbows, his tie loosely hanging from his neck (and gojo watches as every few seconds nanami scowls and readjusts his tie, mumbling that the fabric is itchy). his usually perfectly styled blonde curls are sticking out in odd directions, and the office trash can sitting nearby has an array of gum wrappers and take out coffee cups piling up.
gojo lets out a slow breath - yikes. this is worse than i thought.
"you sure about the coffee?" he gestures, pointing vaguely to the steaming flat white still next to nanami. the blonde doesn't even flinch.
"yes. i only drink green tea after 3pm, christ's sake." nanami grumbles, testing even gojo's patience.
"well how the fuck was i supposed to know that?" gojo asks sarcastically, crossing one leg over another. something momentarily shifts in nanami's eyes, before his eyebrows furrow in focus on the document in front of him.
"(y/n) would know."
it's mumbled like a whisper, like a petulant admission of a toddler being denied time to play. gojo thinks back to the voice memo you sent him this morning, promising to bring him back pastries from new york on your way back.
it all clicks for gojo.
a part of him wants to laugh at his friend for how immature nanami's being, for allowing a momentary absence of you to color his decision making and personality at work. but another part of gojo finds it... deeply amusing.
especially when he thinks back to how much he had to nag nanami to finally cave in and ask you out all those years ago, instead of always spending 30 minutes more than necessary at the gym to try and catch a glimpse of you before work.
"i see... all this attitude at work because your wife is halfway across the world for a month?"
that catches nanami's attention, the man's hands dropping down onto his lap as a deep scarlet flush spreads through his cheeks.
"it's not that simple."
the smirk on gojo's face only gets wider.
"mmmm, i think it is just that simple. you were completely fine before she had to fly off-" gojo makes it a point to flex his wrist to stare at his rolex watch. "five hours ago. and you're already withering, loverboy. slowly declining in physical and mental health."
"i'm a fully grown adult. i'm fine." nanami says through gritted teeth, but it has no effect on gojo who is thoroughly enjoying (a) getting to be right and (b) teasing his best friend for being a hopeless romantic. to dig it in, gojo raises his eyebrows and puts on a pouty expression.
"are you sure, pookie? you don't want me to call her right now and tell her it's an emergency, that she needs to fly back to tokyo this instant?" gojo flashes his phone screen, where your contact is open under 'the better nanami'.
nanami practically lunges across the desk to try and get the phone out of gojo's hands, which gojo manages to dodge at the last second by jumping out of his seat. gojo's laughing so hard he doubles over, chest folded to his knees, and nanami's scowl only deepens.
"haha." nanami laughs along drily, clearly not amused. "anyways, it's a really important trip for her, so i don't want to be a bother. now get out, i have a meeting in 5 minutes."
it was going to be a long month without you.
DAY 4
the tension in the office is palpable, given what's at stake.
geto's been working backbreaking hours for the past month straight to pull the proposal together: an ambitious joint venture to combine the legal banking practice of nanami enterprises with the financial expertise of Japan's second biggest bank. everything had to be perfect. audits were rechecked, investment proposals rewritten, every piece of competition law finely tuned and picked over by the entire banking law team.
and nanami's fumbling during the investor pitch meeting.
it starts out small - like mispronouncing the head of the bank's name, which geto subtly corrects (by shaking the man's hand right after and saying it out loud correctly). losing track of where the specific sections of the agreement are. forgetting to bring a pen to the meeting, with shoko having to slide nanami one under the table and shooting geto a worried look.
'is he okay?' her glance seemed to read, to which geto shrugs in response.
truth be told, geto has no idea what's going on with his boss slash friend. he's worked for nanami for three years, and has never seen the blonde be anything less than textbook professional. every detail perfected, suit immaculately pressed, posture straight and elegant.
and now, the man in front of him still has the 'look' of a professional lawyer... but none of the attitude. instead, nanami looks uncomfortable in his expensive suit, adjusting his posture every few minutes and staring off into the vague distance during pitch decks. geto has to call nanami's name three times before the blonde realizes it's his turn to speak to the investors, and it takes every bone in geto's body to suppress a sigh.
"and so if we proceed as planned, i believe we could acquire the high street banks in this area for 4.7 million-"
"sorry for interrupting, but we were told that the valuation was 47 million. not 4.7." one of the investors cuts nanami off, a deepening frown on his face.
nanami's head whipped around to shoko, who nervously adjusts her blazer and adds that the correct figure should be 47 million as well. geto wordlessly slides open the bundle of documents to double check the accounts, then at nanami's pitch deck, and realizes that nanami has somehow managed to delete a zero.
fuck.
maintaining a poker face as nanami lets out a polite apology to the board, geto thumbs through the rest of the presentation whilst cross referencing with the financial accounts. all the figures are off by one zero in nanami's proposal, as if he didn't catch onto some malfunctioning code in his excel sheet.
the fear that runs up geto's spine is like nothing he ever felt before, and geto has to send a discreet text to gojo about the situation.
geto: "nanami somehow messed up all the figures for today's meeting with the investors. all figures are off by one zero."
gojo: "holy shit!"
gojo: "what do we do?"
geto looks at the blinking white screen, then at nanami's flushed face and the investors' clearly unamused expressions, before making a decision for the team.
geto: "idk, fire alarm?"
he's half joking but also half relieved when the fire alarm rings out across the building, and geto smoothly apologises to the investors for the sudden interruption and promises a prompt rescheduling of the meeting.
and the moment they're both outside, geto pulls nanami aware from the crowd of employees gathering outside the building and into a back alleyway that smells that smoke and grilled meat.
"jesus christ, nanami. what happened?" geto swears out loud, heart still pounding with adrenaline and anger.
nanami fists his hair in response, anxious legs pacing back and forth, before he stops and stares at gojo with the sorriest expression he can muster.
"god, i'm so sorry. i know you've been working on this merger for weeks now."
geto's jaw clenches, but it's hard to stay angry when he sees the pained look on nanami's face. the blonde stops pacing and sits down on a nearby bench, head in his hands, and geto feels his anger dissipate into thin air.
"what's going on, kento?" geto's voice drops into a concerned hum, sitting down carefully next to nanami. nanami's fingers brush through his now messy hair, wedding band catching the glint of the sunlight every few seconds, an anxious habit of his.
"i... i just can't seem to concentrate. o-on anything, lately." he admits, sighing. geto raises his eyebrows.
"any particular reason? this isn't like you, and i'm worried."
he places a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder, squeezing in appreciation to make his support known. he watches as nanami's eyes flicker up to geto's very cautiously, as if debating with himself on whether to say something.
"i miss my wife."
the admission is soft, tender in the way its spoken but firm in the way nanami's face pulls together in tight pain and desperate longing. geto's worry melts away into something more fond, and nanami lets out an empty laugh.
"it's pathetic, i know. she's only been gone for a few days. but damn it, i-i can't sleep, i can't eat properly, i keep misplacing everything in my office-"
"why don't you call her?" geto gently suggests and nanami retracts.
"i don't want to bother her."
geto rolls his eyes playfully, nudging the blonde's shoulder.
"she's your wife. she signed up to being bothered by you for a lifetime."
"it's also a 13 hour time difference between tokyo and new york." nanami weakly reasons, but geto just whips out his phone and presses your number. "hey, what're yo-"
"geto?" your groggy voice rings out from the other side, and a flush of warmth spreads through nanami's body. your voice. he'd almost forgotten what your voice sounded like (he definitely hadn't, but it sure as hell felt like it) - gentle, warm, sweet like daisies in the summer rain. "is everything alright?"
"just peachy. oh, actually, i forgot something- nanami, you don't mind taking over for me do you?" geto expertly lies, passing off the phone to nanami too quickly for any attempts of escape.
"ken?" you mutter from the other side, slightly more awake. nanami cringes internally - knowing that it's 1am there - but can't help his shoulders from melting at the sound of your voice.
"my love. sorry, did we wake you?"
"it's alright. still having trouble adjusting to the timezone here anyways." you yawn on the other side, and he can practically envision your sleepy expression and the glow of your phone illuminating your face. better than any artwork, he believes. "how are you, babe?"
"tired - today was the day of the investor meeting for the merger."
"oh shit, really? how'd it go?"
nanami opens his mouth to answer, as suddenly the crowd of employees are directed to re-enter the building by a grinning gojo and a smug geto who winks at him from afar, forcing nanami to reconsider his answer on the spot.
"had to reschedule. fire alarm went off."
"the fire alarm?"
he can hear the panic in your voice and kicks himself for making you worry.
"false alarm, love. gojo's telling everyone right now that it's safe to re-enter the building."
"oh, that's good. i'm relieved, i don't want anyone to get hurt."
"i know, darling. promise everyone's fine and taken care of."
you hum on the other side, and he can hear you shifting in bed.
"even yourself?"
"hm?"
you giggle on the other side of the line, and nanami wishes he could record that sound to relive it during the day.
"yourself, ken. are you taking care of yourself?"
he straightens up at your question, embarrassed.
"of course i am. w-why wouldn't i be?"
"a little birdie told me my husband was missing me a bit too much."
"damn it, gojo." nanami covers the phone and swears, cursing his friend for ratting him out.
"and i told the birdie that there was no such thing as missing one's wife too much." you add fondly and nanami sighs into the receiver, before pulling away from the phone and noticing geto's phone is at 5%.
"geto's phone is at 5%, so i think i'll have to get going." nanami pauses, wanting to savour your voice one last time. "i miss you a lot, darling. but i'm so proud of you and all you're doing in new york right now. love you."
"love you so much, kenny. good night."
it physically pains nanami to have to end the call and give back the phone to geto, but he's glad he's managed to speak to you (even for a few minutes). geto smiles up at him, smug and satisfied.
"so? was i right or was i right?"
nanami sheepishly shrugs.
"...thank you, geto. i needed that."
"don't worry bout it. and hey, leave the pitch decks to me - go home early and sleep it off, alright? you still got 25 days to go till she's back."
the number sits heavy in nanami's heart - 25 days - as he tries to muster up a brave smile.
DAY 7
it's a sunday.
it would usually be his favorite day, a day reserved for just him and you: his beautiful wife who rises with the sunlight and smells like cinnamon and vanilla by the time he's brewing coffee in the kitchen. but today, when he reluctantly opens his eyes in bed, the spot next to him is empty. and the pillows don't smell like your shampoo anymore.
worst of all, when he pads out to the kitchen, there's no one to hum pop songs and flip pancakes with.
nanami barely registers the bitter black coffee on his tongue as he flicks over the morning newspaper, the information flying by his eyes with no real comprehension. he can feel a slight headache coming on from staring at his phone too late until 3am last night, rewatching videos of you on the honeymoon until exhaustion won over him.
god, is this how people who have military husbands feel like, he wonders? he just feels... beyond awful. like his whole soul has been sucked dry, the dull ache in his heart only worsening when he'd go to the bathroom and see your perfumes lining the counter, or open the fridge to see your favorite jam sitting untouched on the top shelf. the room is quiet save for the humming of the fridge and his breathing, and suddenly the space feeels far too empty.
the silence doesn't last very long when someone then knocks in rapid succession on the front door, followed by an obnoxious voice.
"NANAMIIIIIIIIIIIII IT IS ME, YOUR LOVERRRRRR-"
"shut the fuck up, gojo, it's 9am on a sunday." geto growls from next to him, as shoko chuckles.
"we brought food from the diner you like." shoko offers from the other side of the door, not knowing whether nanami will actually invite them in. a few awkward seconds pass before the door opens, and nanami's unimpressed face greets the three of them.
"we know you've been really down in the dumps for missing (y/n)-" gojo starts, and nanami's cheeks redden in embarrassment.
"i have not-" he starts, but shoko and geto roll their eyes in perfect sync.
"yes you have." all three of them respond simultaneously.
"i think it's cute." shoko offers, and gojo snickers from next to her.
"well, whatever it is, we're NOT letting you mope around in your apartment on such a nice sunday. so we've-"
"you have." shoko corrects, shaking her head sideways. "it was gojo's idea."
"excuse me, it's a team effort because you two eventually caved. anyways, we've planned out a whole fun day to help you distract yourself from your wife's absence!"
"i don't have a choice, do i?" nanami lamely responds as gojo barrels into the apartment past him, not even asking for permission to enter. geto nods in amusement and follows suit, and shoko offers him a half shrug and a small smile.
nanami pinches the gap between his eyebrows with his left hand, massaging the headache starting to form, but can't deny that it's nice to hear laughter and something other than his own thoughts in his apartment.
"fine. just- GOJO DON'T EAT ON THE COUCH!"
true to gojo fashion, nanami learns, the day is packed with an array of activities that stands in stark contrast to the usual slow and domestic day he'd have with you.
after a lavish breakfast (with gojo having ungodly amounts of sugar), gojo insisted on renting two seater bikes and looping around the park. then it was lunch at a soba place, a few hours at an arcade, browsing a bookstore, and then dinner with a movie at gojo's place.
"are you having fun?" shoko had asked quietly at the arcade, as geto and gojo argued over who had the higher score. "don't worry, i won't tell gojo."
nanami had let out a small sigh, shoving his hands in his pockets but couldn't help but hide his smile. it was the most relaxed he'd felt the whole week, and he hadn't felt the need to obsessively check his phone for any updates from you.
"yeah. i think... i really needed this. thank you."
shoko winked.
"you're welcome. we're always here for you, you know that right?"
now it's nearing 11pm and gojo excitedly presses stop play on geto's pick for the night - pulp fiction. geto complains, throwing up his hands, only for gojo to wave his protests off.
"hey, you won the rock paper scissors and picked the first movie! now that we sat through that, we have to sit through my favorite movie."
"god, not 'frozen' again." shoko groans into her hands, and gojo gasps in mock horror.
"it's not! we're actually going to watch 'love actually'."
nanami sits up straighter at the mention of the film. no one noticed the way nanami's face morphs momentarily into one of pain and fondness, geto being too busy arguing with gojo about the semantics of choosing the next film and shoko inspecting the popcorn bucket in her hands. but nanami's heart continues to throb with pain.
"back me up, nanami. it's a good movie, right? you've seen it before?" gojo shouts from across the room, flicking the lights off again. nanami wills himself to stay rock solid, forcing his head to nod in agreement.
"y-yeah. i've seen it. it's good."
it was more than good, in truth.
it was the film that he'd taken you to see as the first date. a local cinema, a shared bucket of popcorn, the sudden rain he had to shield you from with his coat.
alcohol.
nanami needs alcohol to get through this movie.
"gojo, do you have any alcohol in your fridge?"
gojo smirks.
"oh shit, is it a drinking night today? yeah, i got a bit of everything- let me know what you want."
and that is how nanami ends up squished between a bored geto and a mildly amused shoko, nursing his third bottle of beer for the night. the movie sounds muted, as if the actors are speaking under the water, as the memories of the date come rushing at him in full force.
"did you like it?" you'd carefully asked, blinking your eyes in the cinema foyer in an attempt to readjust to the bright lighting. the nearly empty popcorn bucket was hugged hazardously under your right arm, and nanami carefully removed it from your arm before binning it. he wanted to slide his own arm in between the gap, but wanted to respect your space, instead settling with walking side by side with you to the exit.
"of course, it's a classic."
you'd laughed, and it warmed his entire body: melodic, loud, just the right amount of you.
"what is it?" he'd asked, bumping his shoulder with yours. you'd shaken your head sideways, muffling your giggles with your hand.
"nothing, nothing. just the thought of nanami kento, heir and ceo of nanami enterprises, the biggest law firm in Japan.... being a secret rom com lover is a bit funny." you'd smiled at him so blindly, his heart skipped a beat. "guess there's a lot more to learn about you, kenny."
he'd smiled back just as bright.
"i guess there is."
as if on cue, thunder had roared and rain started pelting from the black inky sky. people dodged into nearby stores, dog walkers cursed under their breath, and cars started flipping on their windshield wipers.
"fuck, it didn't say it was going to rain today. did you bring an umbrella?" you'd asked as you opened the door, shielding yourself from the rain by standing under the cinema's roof. nanami's warm body had joined yours a few seconds later, his left hand hovering a few inches from yours.
"no. guessing you got here by train?"
"that's correct. but the station's a ten minute walk from here." you'd sighed, shrugging off your jacket when nanami's calloused hand gently stopped you.
"what're you doing?"
"taking off my jacket so i can shield myself from the rain?" you'd blinked up at him, so adorable and clueless. it was a slightly chilly april day, but he wasted no time in shrugging off his own coat and gently draping it over your head.
"your jacket's too pretty to get wet, sweetheart. use mine instead."
you looked so shy, so unsure of yourself, when your smaller fingers curled themselves around his coat. he'd let you have his coat forever, he decided, if you were to ask.
"but... but then your coat will get wet."
"better that then you."
and he meant it.
and he held your hand whilst the two of you ran through the empty streets, the wet cement illuminated by the yellow glow of the streetlamps and the occasional headlights of the cars passing by. both of you were soaking wet by the time you and nanami were standing on the steps of the station, heart pounding and big smiles on your face.
"that was-"
"crazy." he'd finished for you.
"actually, i was gonna say the best day i've ever had." you'd said softly, and his heart thundered louder than the thunderstorm up ahead.
and he'd kissed you then and there.
"nanami, what'd you- oh my god are you okay?"
shoko's concerned voice shakes him out of the memory, and the feeling of something wet sliding down his face registers. the movie's suddenly been paused, and geto kicks gojo under the table for "making nanami cry."
was he really crying? nanami's hand comes up to brush against his cold cheeks, and it confirms to himself that he is crying.
a lot.
"god, i miss her so much." is all nanami can say, the effects of his fifth bottle of beer mixing with his dangerously suppressed emotions of missing you. shoko frowns and geto lightly pats nanami's shoulder, whilst gojo begins to panic.
"shit, i'm sorry, i shouldn't have picked a rom com. uhhh what do you wanna watch instead? howl's moving castle? mission impossible? shrek-"
"not. helping." geto dryly gets out, throwing the white haired man a deadly glare. nanami crumbles like a piece of paper, crying into his hands as he folds over himself, and shoko's hands start rubbing warm soothing circles on his back. she shifts her eyes to the side at geto, gesturing at him to get gojo out of the way, as she attempts to reign in nanami's tears.
"hey, it's gonna be okay. she'll be back in no time."
"no she's not. she's gone for another 3 weeks." nanami complains into his hands, drunk and crying. shoko suppresses a sigh, gently tapping his shoulder.
"i think you're feeling a little off because of all the alcohol and the lack of sleep, yeah? you'll feel much better when you wake up, okay? let's get you to bed."
it's a struggle to get the blonde to fall asleep, given that he refuses to go back to his house - saying it reminds him too much of you - but also as nanami is far taller and heavier than shoko. she struggles to prop him upright as gojo directs them to the guest room, and it takes both geto and gojo's help to gently lay the blonde giant onto the mattress and under the covers.
the moment the door closes behind them, shoko presses herself against the door and slides down onto the floor, exhausted.
"jesus. that man is whipped."
DAY 10
nanami absolutely cannot do this.
the lingering pain of missing your warm body next to him in bed, of seeing your shadows in the corner of his eye every time he walks into the office and passes the sofa where you like to lounge whilst reading files, of obsessively re-organising everything in his office to suppress the memory of you laughing every morning... has bled into a full blown illness.
hence why he's currently locked himself in his office, the blinds drawn completely tight to coat him in darkness, his blazer draped over his shoulders as a makeshift blanket whilst he stares blankly at the computer screen. his head's swimming with equations and dates that don't make any sense, and when his assistant came in half an hour ago to ask for his signature on a set of documents, he'd just grunted in response and honestly, isn't even sure if he'd signed the correct blank spaces before dismissing her.
his limbs feel like heavy weights and his head aches. there's no point to anything, he mopes. no point in answering to emails when you're not there to remind him to fix his posture mid-type. no point in heating up his lunch when it's not one of your meticulously cooked bento boxes, the rice shaped into a heart. no point in dressing properly with cufflinks and a tie and a blazer if you're not there to kiss his forehead, mumbling about how nice the color of his tie looks-
"sir, there's someone here to see you." his assistant's voice rings out from the other side of the door, and it sounds... smug, oddly.
nanami can't bring it in himself to care, dropping his head onto the wooden oak desk and staring at the floor. maybe if he doesn't respond, they'll go away, a childish part of him reasons. but as if sensing his immature response, his assistant just chuckles from the other side.
"i know you're in there, sir. i was just in there thirty minutes ago."
"i don't feel too well, irene. please ask them to come back another time." he mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut. god, he just wanted to be in your embrace.
a second of silence passes before he hears the door being swung open, illuminating the room with light from the hallway.
"i'm hurt, ken."
no fucking way.
nanami stands up so quickly that his chair tips over, his wild eyes scanning the dark room before landing on your amused smile. you - the actual you, his darling wife - is standing in his office. in a checkered blazer and dress pants accentuating every dip and curve, smelling like roses and sunshine.
he stares, slack jawed, convinced he's gone insane. you aren't supposed to be back in tokyo for another 20 or so days.
he slowly rounds the corner of his desk, walking towards you carefully as your smile only widens.
"thought you'd be excited to see m-"
the rest of your sentence is swallowed by nanami's lips on yours, his hands immediately finding their place on the small of your back to pull you in closer. he kisses you with so much force and fervor that you're practically pushed against the nearest object - his desk - and the mahogany edge bites into your skin as he pushes you further against it, breaking the kiss only for a second to regain his breath before he's gripping you tightly and kissing you all over again. you taste like your cherry chapstick and nanami can't get enough of it, left hand traveling down to squeeze your waist-
"jesus fucking christ, nanami." geto grumbles from the entryway, as gojo covers geto's eyes with a spare folder. it's only then that nanami pulls away from you, cheeks bright red as he attempts to hide himself by tucking his head under the crook of your shoulder.
it also allows him to smell your perfume much better, and enjoy how your chest rumbles with laughter at geto's horrified expression.
"should get you two charged for public indecency." gojo teases, and nanami looks back up at your smiling figure, the confusion now settling in properly.
"wait, how'd you- why- when-"
"gojo called me." you grab nanami's left hand, tracing circles onto his skin and toying with his wedding band. "said you missed me so much it was driving everyone crazy."
nanami blinks at that comment.
"what?"
"apparently someone's been missing me so much they've been snappy at work, mixing up important numbers, and drunkenly crying over 'love actually'."
the murderous look nanami sends at gojo and geto is enough for the men to avert their eyes elsewhere, pretending to stare at a non existent spot on the floor, as your laughter only grows louder.
"it's alright, nami. i thought it was... sweet."
"disgustingly sweet, might i add." shoko pops her head into the office then, waving at you in greeting. "never seen a man deteriorate so fast from his wife being gone for just a week."
"don't you three have work to do? a lot of work, might i add?" nanami weakly adds, practically pleading with his eyes to be left alone with you. his three friends just laugh, before agreeing to give you two space: geto chuckles under his breath, shoko shakes her head sideways in amusement, and gojo winks and obnoxiously yells out that you owe him at least 3 kg worth of pastries from new york.
then the door is slammed shut, leaving him and his wife in silence once more.
"i can't believe you're here." he admits in the dark, not wanting to let go of you yet. his large arms come to wrap around your shoulder as he sits down onto a nearby chair, pulling you onto his lap. when you complain about the lack of lighting he flicks on a button that makes the curtains pull open automatically, and nanami swears there is no more beautiful sight in the world than the way your face is illuminated when the sunlight hits it. "what about your work?"
you sigh contently in his lap, letting your head roll onto his shoulder. you'd be lying if you said you hadn't missed nanami's touch, his scent, his everything as well.
"said it was a family emergency and i was needed back in tokyo urgently. i'm sure the associates are equipped enough to handle the case whilst i'm gone." you sit up slightly and caress his jaw. "i'm sorry i couldn't come earlier, ken."
he quiets your comments with a light kiss on the corner of your mouth.
"doesn't matter. you're here now."
"that i am, you soft baby." you joke, poking him in the chest. but all he does is nuzzle into your touch.
"soft for you, darling. thought i was going crazy without you here. i'm not letting you go again, ever." he pouts like a child, and you laugh.
"ever?"
he shakes his head sideways.
"ever."
you raise your eyebrows.
"you know i'll be called overseas more than once, right?"
"doesn't matter. i'm coming with you then." he says it with such simplicity and finality.
"what? you can't do that, you- you're basically the boss of this place." you chuckle, patting his head lovingly.
"then i'll let gojo be interim CEO whilst i'm gone. or sell the company. or fake my own death and come with you to wherever you need to go."
he's joking, of course. but the tenderness in his gaze is real and it squeezes your heart with so much love you can't help but kiss the man silly all over again.
"i love you so much, you know that?"
"impossible." his eyes crinkle when he smiles, unabashed and unrestrained. "i love you more."
you're finally home.
and so is he.
a/n: ahhhhh i got this idea randomly whilst procrastinating on my japanese hw and it came out in like 3 hours! not sure if i'm happy with how it turned out but i love the idea too much not to post,,, sorry for the slight hiatus in posting, my entire life has been consumed by the fbi section chief/hotch!coded nanami fic i've been talking about on my blog for the past 2 weeks (did someone say multi part series??!!!) anyways. hope this came out somewhat okay and was fun to read! i especially love writing the dialogue for this fic because it's very chaotic and funny. alright love you all ty for reading this far if you did ~\(≧▽≦)/~
ᯓ★ likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ᯓ★
cw: explicit sexual content, teasing, making a deal w nanami, masturbation, creampie, degradation, who knew you were such a cumslut. happy kinktober!
It started with a stupid argument. “You’re a sex addict,” Nanami said casually, loosening his tie after work.
Your head snapped around, affronted. “Am not.”
“You can’t go two days without whining to me to fuck you,” he countered, unimpressed.
Your mouth dropped open. “That’s—fuck you. I can go a week.”
“A week? Fine. Deal.”
“W-Wait wait really?” You hadn’t expected him to agree, damnit. “What are the terms then? You say ‘no sex’ but what does that mean? Can I walk around naked? Can I give you head?”
He leaned in, cupping your chin, thumb brushing your lip until you opened and slipped it into your mouth. You swirled your tongue over it, sucking slow, just to prove a point. “The deal,” he murmured, pulling his thumb free with a wet pop, “is nothing. No sex until Friday. And there’s no fucking way you’re lasting that long.” You glared at him before standing up and waking off to your bedroom already trying to think of ways to make him cave first.
On Monday, you decided if Nanami thought you couldn’t keep your hands off him, then fine—you’d prove that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.
He was already half-dressed for work when you padded out of the bedroom, deliberately bare, your hair still mussed from sleep. You didn’t bother covering yourself, not even when the cool morning air brushed over your nipples, making them pebble. Nanami froze with his tie draped around his neck, eyes catching on you before he immediately looked away. “Put clothes on.”
You smirked. “Why? It’s my apartment too.”
“Because I asked you to,” he said, voice tight, fingers tugging the tie into a neat knot. You crossed the room slowly, savoring the way his jaw clenched the closer you got. You bent down in front of the coffee table to grab your phone, your ass on display, back arched like a damn porn cover. “Hmm. You’re not looking at me.”
“Correct.”
“But you want to.” You straightened, letting your hands drag up your body until they cupped your breasts, giving them a teasing squeeze. “I mean, you’ve spent how many nights with your cock inside me, Kento? And suddenly I can’t even walk around naked?” His hands paused mid-button. He took a long, controlled breath, then picked up his briefcase. “This is juvenile.”
“It’s effective,” you whispered, stepping into his space before he could move away. You trailed your fingers down the crisp line of his shirt, then lower, to where his slacks stretched a little tighter over his thighs. “God, I could drop to my knees right now and swallow you before work. You’d look so hot in that tie, fucking my throat until mascara’s running down my face.”
Nanami grabbed your wrist and moved your hand off him. “Your attempts are pathetic, so stop wasting your energy.”
You pouted and snatched your hand out of his grasp, making sure to make a show of your ass as you walked away.
Tuesday night during dinner at home, you “accidentally” dropped food in his lap. He sighed, napkin in hand, but you crawled under the table before he could protest. His thighs shifted when you palmed him through his slacks, massaging slowly until you felt him harden under your touch. “Stop.” His voice was a warning tone. You kissed his cock through the fabric. He set his fork down. For a long second, you thought he’d let you. But then his large hand curled into your hair and dragged you up firmly. “You’re not going to win.”
Fuck, he was good at this.
That Wednesday you joined him mid-shower, sliding in behind him. “Room for two?”
He sighed, scrubbing his hair. “Get out.” Instead, you pressed yourself to his back, hands sliding over his chest. His cock brushed your thigh, heavy and already twitching at your touch. “I’m not touching you where it counts,” you teased, stroking everywhere but his cock. “Not against the rules.” When his hand suddenly gripped your wrist and pinned it to the tile, you squeaked, thighs clenching. “You’re making this very difficult,” Nanami ground out, water cascading down the ridges of his shoulders.
Finally, Thursday night, you were curled up beside him in bed, Nanami propped against the headboard with his book. He looked unfairly perfect—hair still damp from his shower, reading glasses perched on his nose, completely ignoring you.
So you let your hand drift under the blanket. First over your stomach, then down between your thighs. You parted them slowly, letting soft moans slip past your lips as you circled your clit with two fingers. Nanami’s head snapped toward you. The book slammed shut. “That’s not allowed.”
“This isn’t sex,” you whispered, hips rolling up into your own hand. “You said no sex. This… isn’t sex.”
“Stop.” He growled, his cock already hard under the thin fabric of his sweatpants. You smirked up at him, breathless. “You’re hard just from watching me. Who’s really losing here?” You slid your fingers lower, pressing them into your soaked entrance with a needy moan. “God, Kento… I’m so wet just thinking about you.”
He scoffed, attempting to draw his attention away from your self-pleasuring and failing. “You’re pathetic.”
“You want to see how pathetic?” you challenged, pushing two fingers inside and gasping as your back arched. The sound of his sweatpants hitting the floor made your pussy clench in anticipation. “Kento—” His cock pushed inside you before you could finish, forcing you to stretch wide around him. Your back arched, a moan tearing from your throat as he bottomed out, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your cervix. “Fuck!”
“Yeah,” Nanami snarled, hips snapping against you, “fuck is right. That’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it? All week—” thrust “—acting like a brat—” thrust “—making me hard every fucking day.” The sound of your moans, wet pussy squelching filled the room as he continued to pound into you.
Your moans turned into cries as his pace grew brutal, sweat dripping down his temple, his mouth at your ear. “You couldn’t even last four days, sweetheart. Pathetic.”
Your nails clawed at the sheets, your cunt squeezing him so tight he hissed. “Nanami—fuck—so good, so good—”
Nanami groaned, fucking you through it, harder, deeper, until his release spilled hot and heavy inside you. He stayed buried to the hilt, cock twitching as he filled you, your pussy milking every drop. He finally pulled back just enough to kiss your temple, voice rough. “No sex until Friday,” he repeated mockingly. “You didn’t even make it to midnight.”
