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mysteria157 · 3 months

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Chapter 10

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

Word Count: ~9k

CW: Profanity, mentions of mental health (anxiety), explicit sexual content

Summary: You catch a glimpse of the growing life within. A home cooked meal and a searing kiss.

Notes: Hi! I have a habit of writing long chapters. That’s just what works for me and helps my pacing for this story. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated but not necessary <3 I hope you enjoy reading!

Divider: @cafekitsune

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It Had To Be You Masterlist

The March air that blew onto your skin when you opened the window to your soon to be nursery was cold and biting. It would be the only way to get the fumes out when you began to paint, a clearance you had to beg Dr. Reynolds for, but she allowed as long as you took long breaks and kept the room ventilated.

It was an olive branch, you supposed.

Your excitement to paint your entire house fizzled out the moment you realized you wouldn’t be able to risk the fumes, so you resorted to picking out colors with Ome and letting Chiyo and Santo paint instead.

Without knowing the biological sex of the baby, it gave you much more leeway for neutral colors and sage was a perfect fit. You had spent a week painting the room and now you were left to stencil out a design on the wall where the baby’s crib would rest.

“Kento was right, you have such a wonderful gift.”

Chiyo’s voice from the door of the nursery was soft and low like her son’s but filled with an intensity that could rival even Ome. You threw a small smile back to her before turning back to your half-finished stencil of a mountain landscape. Your pencil pressed hard into the sage colored walls, the lead bleeding onto the surface and slowly giving way to yet another peak that you would paint white with snow.

“I ordered some food. Why don’t you come take a break and eat?”

The Udon that slid down your throat was satisfying a hunger you didn’t realize you had. This past week, your cravings had increased in variety from simple and ordinary to borderline chaotic. When you craved dill pickles and peanut butter, Yuji stopped by the closest convenience store on his way home to get them for you. When your sweet tooth seemed to skyrocket and the only thing you could imagine was chocolate in your mouth, Gojo had whisked you away to Haibara’s bakery and ordered an entire basket of chocolate croissants. Geto, Shoko, Ome and even Nanami’s parents went out of their way to make sure you always got what you needed. It filled a hole since Nanami hasn’t been around.

In fact, he hasn’t been around for almost three weeks.

Ome had whisked you away from the backyard almost as soon as you had pulled away from Nanami during your housewarming party. You didn’t mind really, using the opportunity to get away so that you could get your racing heart under control. It was already overwhelming to realize that the man you used to loathe for weeks had spent just as long righting every wrong he had done. It was already overwhelming to see document after document in a small black folder of his work, clear proof that your ideas had been acknowledged, put to paper and ready to execute. He had gone above and beyond for you once again, showing you clearly that he would do whatever it took to gain your trust and sincerity.

But to top it all off with a date of all things? You agreed in a heartbeat.

But as you mingled with your friends in your new home, riding off your high of joy, it crashed as soon as he broke the news that he had to leave on a business trip, eyes angry as he read the text from Yaga that he had just received. Four hours away in Nagoya, gone for three weeks to get the branch under control and effectively putting a hold on your date. He made up for it as much as he could, texting every day to make you feel special.

Kento Nanami: Omelia tells me you’ve gone through three cans of pickles in a week. Please try to keep your cravings under control so that I can cook for you myself.

Kento Nanami: Most of the people here are idiots. Especially the manager. Balding, halitosis, a shirt that is much too small and a very low IQ. Ome would have a field day with him. What’s taken him years, would have only taken you two days at most. If only you were here to put him in his place.

Kento Nanami: I will have missed three episodes of the Kardashians, if you watch ahead of me, I will never forgive you. I have a new brownie recipe to perfect so please wait for me. Or else.

Kento Nanami: I’ll be back tomorrow in time for your checkup. I promise I won’t be late.

Every interaction made the smiles more frequent, the fluttering in your heart more incessant, the heat between your thighs more prominent with almost every single action you took. Kento Nanami with his indifferent gaze and even tone when he spoke had to be doing this to you on purpose.

That had to be it, right?

You admired the neutral brown on the walls as you slurped down another spoon of Udon, the hot noodles sliding down your throat.

“Only one more coat and a day of drying and your house will be ready for your to properly move in.”

Chiyo smiled softly at you, one of her hands spooling a patch of Udon noodles before she elegantly shoved them in her mouth. Her straight black hair framed her face perfectly, fifty-four years of age perfectly preserved with good eating and a modest skincare routine shined back at you as she smiled and began to twirl her fork with another helping.

Since meeting her during the holidays, she had slotted herself into your life in a permanent way without making herself too insistent. She sent you a text once a week to ask how you were, pulled you to lunch occasionally to get you out of your thoughts and away from your home and even offering her own motherly advice when it came to raising a child. She was everything you wanted in a mother. Not too imposing in your life, but still present enough to make herself known in whatever way you needed.

“So, has my son decided to finally be a man and take you on a date?”

Santo’s usually quiet demeanor was loud in your partially unpacked kitchen as you slurped another fork of noodles, green eyes not the same color as Kento’s but still just as intense.

“He has. But he had to leave on business before we could solidify anything.”

Santo hummed, bright eyes looking down at his soup before he pursed his lips and looked up at you again.

“Take charge, y/n. The Nanami genes are strong in our family. Kento should have warned you that a condom and birth control would not be enough. Our sperm is quite strong when it finds the right match.”

You blanched visibly, choking on a long noodle as Chiyo admonished her husband in the background, smacking him on the arm and cursing with a level of Japanese that even you couldn’t distinguish.

“Forgive Santo, darling. He speaks without thinking. But have you two talked about your plans?” You shook your head, the miso broth filling your cheeks before you swallowed the heated liquid. “While I don’t agree with how my husband put it, I will say that taking charge will prove beneficial. I’m happy to know that Kento is such a gentleman and knows how to approach just about every challenge he faces, but when it comes to you, he is a fish out of water.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in response. You hadn’t really thought about your date with Nanami. After he went away for business, you tried to push the thought as far away as you could. What if he finished his trip and realized he didn’t want to go further with you? Maybe he had simply blurted out that question to you in the heat of the moment, riding off both your emotions and your warm arms around his neck in your backyard.

What if you let him in…and it doesn’t go anywhere?

A messy breakup that would only result in weekend visits and awkward holidays and birthdays.

It’s just the baby having an effect on him. Probably just sympathy. When the baby is born, for all you knew, Nanami would become cold and distant again.

The logical side of you could smell the anxiety from a mile away. You knew you were simply overthinking and using anything to keep yourself protected. You opened your mouth to speak but the words didn’t come, the last thing you wanted was to pour out your nervous thoughts to his parents. They had done more than enough for you recently.

You had forgotten the conversation altogether by the time you threw your overnight bag over your shoulder and locked the front door of your home. Until the paint was completely dry and the fumes gone from your house, Ome demanded that you stay with her.

Santo lingered on the curb, eyes on his phone and a pensive look on his face. Chiyo however, stayed by you, not speaking as you shoved your house keys into your purse and smiled softly at her.

“Kento’s been such a nervous wreck, you know?”

She chuckled to herself, jet black hair billowing with the slight nightly breeze. You watched the silky strands flutter in the air, twisting and squeezing each other before resting again on her unblemished cheeks.

“He sends me different restaurants that he’s been contemplating, asks what he should wear, talks about you constantly in his own ‘Kento’ way. I haven’t seen him like this since high school.” She rested a hand on your cheek, her soft and warm fingers melting into your skin slowly. “I know you have a tendency to worry, but please listen to me when I say that Kento may be a little rough around the edges at first. But once someone is deemed important to him, he will never let that person go. While I believe you are much too intelligent and beautiful for any man, I’m glad you’ve decided to glance your way at my son.”

The chuckle that pulled from your chest was abrupt and low, your mouth curling into a small smile as you listened to her. You were lucky that you learned to self-affirm yourself growing up. You had always longed to hear it from your own mother. But hearing those words from Chiyo, a woman who had only known you a few months but had practically treated you as her own, somehow made it so much better.

“Dear, please leave her be. Omelia is expecting her. She’s threatened me one time and I refuse to feel that shame again.”

Chiyo rolled her eyes at her husband’s rambling, brown eyes dancing with playful annoyance before she stroked your cheek and pulled you into a firm hug. Freesias, it was a smell you had been trying to nail down the moment you met her. It always danced around her when she was with you. Such a strong scent but always gentle and soft in your nostrils when it wafted towards you.

“I would love to see your outfit when you have it picked out. Let me know how the appointment goes, honey.”

***

You took another large gulp of ginger tea, ignoring the slight burn and savoring the taste as it trailed down your throat to nestle in your stomach, soothing the nausea instantly. It had been weeks since you last had any sort of nausea or morning sickness. But it had to be today of all days; the day where you would find out the sex of your baby. The day where you would finally see Nanami again after three weeks. You wanted to be clear headed and free of any ailments because the moment he sees the discomfort on your face, he would be all over you.

Not that you didn’t mind a chance for him to be all over you, but not like this.

The sound of your car door opening pulled you out of your anxious thoughts, your head whipping up in the direction of the source, ready to scream at the intrusion. Your tongue dried up immediately when you saw him.

God, three weeks was too long.

Nanami graced your presence in brown khaki pants and a pair of white Chelsea boots. A light brown ribbed short sleeved shirt hugged his broad torso, chest stretching the material and tantalizing you from where you sat. His typical Cartier watch flashed at you, wrapped around an elegant veiny wrist. No glasses today, no sharp part and hair gel, his shiny blonde locks hung free, the tips almost touching sharp light brown eyebrows. That familiar cologne danced up your nose, setting a fire down your spine and making your skin prickle with heat and excitement. Brown eyes gazed down at you, twinkling slightly and showing off the small smile on his full lips. You suddenly felt like a peasant in your simple black maternity leggings and long cashmere sweater.

“Hello there.”

Just the sound of his voice again after so long had you swallowing hard.

He didn’t wait for a reply, simply holding out a single hand for you that you kindly took and let him pull you from your car. The warmth from his touch radiated up your arm, pulsing against your skin and bleeding into the sound of the heartbeat in your ears. His large form hulked over you, casting a shadow on your face from the harsh sun, the tendrils of his cologne begging you to come closer. You cleared your throat and offered a small hello in reply, letting him lead the way as you both walked through the parking lot and inside of the clinic.

You took another sip of your tea, the contents of the large cup dwindling at a rate you were not satisfied with.

“Are you nauseous again?”

His voice held a hint of concern, head reclining against the wall behind you as he lolled his head over to look down at you. His eyes were still stoic and as unreadable as ever to everyone else, but you could see the flicks of worry and anxiety in his irises. You hummed in reply, picking at the flimsy plastic of your cup lid.

“Just today, came out of nowhere. I’ll be fine though.”

You shot him a small smile, your stomach turning at an angle that made you want to lurch forward in your seat. Nanami saw right through your façade, that worry and anxiety quickly flickering to calculating and observing. But he didn’t comment.

The nausea had died down by the time you were reclined on an examination bed, watching Dr. Williams flitter quietly around the room to gather her ultrasound machine and supplies. Dr. Reynolds thankfully had a counterpart with rave reviews in Nakameguro, a woman of color who was just as distinguished, a smile just as warming, and a demeanor all the more reassuring and safe.

“Alright since this is our first appointment together, I just want to run through some general questions so I can get to know you and the baby a little better.”

She ran through typical clinical questions; date of birth, month of conception and possible birth date, your last meal and current issues you wanted to be addressed.

“The second trimester is always said to be a small break from the anxiety of the first. Do you have more energy?” You nodded in reply.

“Appetite coming back?” Another nod.

“Sleep?” Yet another nod.

“How about libido?”

You faltered for only a second before nodding stiffly. Nanami remained quiet as usual from next to you even though you could feel his eyes on you. Dr. Williams’ eyes narrowed just a little, hazel gaze filling with something that made your blood run cold.

Curiosity.

“It’s very common for it to be incredibly heightened during this time. It’s also the best time to connect with your partner.” Her gaze flickered up at Nanami before coming back to you, her satisfaction fulfilled by whatever she saw on Nanami’s face that you were too shocked to look at.

She chuckled gently.

“I apologize, I love to see the reaction on the father’s face when I ask that question.”

You relaxed instantly, shoulders sagging back into the chair, the back of your head thumping on the plastic behind you. Dr. Williams turned her back to you and began to prep the ultrasound machine. With her distracted, you chanced a glance over at Nanami and held in the urge to gasp. His eyes were on you—always on you, you realized—melted irises of heat that had your mouth watering, cheeks pooling with saliva as you swallowed unashamedly as you looked at him. His gaze dipped down at the movement from your Adam’s apple, locking on your creamy skin for only a moment before sliding his eyes back up to you.

And just as quickly as the look was on his face, it was gone, his lips turning up into a natural smile as he slid his chair closer to you. You ignored the heat from his skin, pushed away the urge to grab him by his shirt and pull his lips to yours.

“Now! Let’s have a look.”

You pulled up your sweater, the smooth bump of your five month old baby making you relax quickly. You had not gained a lot of weight, or at least not yet. Your belly was noticeable, but not enough to obscure anything past your hips if you looked down. Your doctor poured the cold gel on your stomach, rubbing it in with the flat head of the ultrasound wand.

The familiar thumping and whirring of your baby’s heart echoed in the room, practically pulling you into a trance as you looked at the tv panel. The barely formed speck you had first put your eyes on months ago was now more detailed. You could see almost every feature through the black and white grainy film; a well-defined head, two arms and hands, curled up feet and a thin sliver of umbilical cord.

Nanami’s smile from earlier began to grow slowly, his own heart pumping louder at the sight of his child so close and yet still layers away and not quite ready.

“Would you like to know the sex?”

You and Nanami both reacted at the same time; you nodding your head furiously and him muttering a strong ‘yes please’ from next to you. You weren’t anticipating his next action as you felt both of his hands envelop one of yours, the shocking warmth making you startle just a little as you looked over at him. His eyes were still on the screen, eyebrows pinched together with a mixture of happiness and satisfaction as he listened and watched your child move and breathe.

Dr. Williams cleared her throat, pulling all attention to her as she narrowed her eyes at the tv panel before smiling gently at you both.

“A very healthy baby girl.”

You giggled, eyes filling with a thin veil of tears as you took in the information. You had always felt a love for your baby but being able to put just a little more detail to it’s—well her—face, made you feel closer to her. A girl who would hopefully have your curls, Nanami’s eyes and calm demeanor, hands ready to explore the world around her.

A soft chuckle huffed from Nanami’s mouth next to you, pulling your gaze back to him and marveling at the sheer happiness in his eyes. He squeezed your hands in both of his, the feeling shooting a zap of electricity down your spine and into your toes. His soft gaze flickered over to you, sharp cheekbones relaxed and defining his face even more as he rested his chin on his clasped hands over yours, lips curling into a small smile.

Even though he was silent next to you as you both walked back to your car, you could feel the energy radiating off him in waves. His mouth never really got rid of the smile, it was toned down and practically nonexistent, but enough for you to see and be happy with. You squeezed the strap of your purse as you stopped in front of your car, fingers digging into the tough material. He ran a large hand through his blonde locks, the bangs pulling back and then flopping back on his forehead again.

“I was going to ask you to dinner tomorrow, but I can understand if you want to postpone if you’re not feeling well.”

The thought of dinner made your stomach twist with a sudden onslaught of nausea. You couldn’t deny that the thought of sitting in a restaurant was not exactly on the top of your list right now if you could help it. And you highly doubted that would change tomorrow.

These past few weeks you had felt stuffy no matter what you wore, puffy and swollen, and generally insecure in your growing body. Your belly was beautiful, the growing roundness only filling you with a maternal instinct that was multiplying by the day. But you couldn’t help but feel…large and unattractive. While your ankles weren’t swollen yet, your hips began to grow, your thighs peppering with cellulite, your stomach stretching with the growing bump of your child, showing subtle tiger stripes that you were sure would darken quickly. As much as you wanted to be out in public with Nanami to eat what would surely be exquisite food, your plunge in self-esteem had left morale quite low.

But you still wanted to spend time with him. Even if that meant curled up on the couch for a night.

“I haven’t really been in high spirits to be out and about. But…I hear you’re quite the cook?”

He lifted an elegant light brown eyebrow, the gesture smooth and unintentionally seductive.

“You want me to cook for you?”

You shrugged in response, your fingernails worrying the material of your purse strap to distract your sudden bout of nerves.

“Unless you’re afraid you’ll disappoint me? You can admit it, I won’t hold it against you.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, head tilting back slightly towards the sky, full lips twitching at the ends to fight off a smirk. He sighed even more dramatically; his theatrics were clearly at an all-time high today possibly from the riding high of knowing what his child would be.

“I’ve never seen you be so forthcoming with your attempts to play along with me. You must have really missed me.”

Something had to have been driving the words that were leaving your mouth. You were too confident all of a sudden, too daring, too committed to picking Nanami apart to see more and more of emotions and gestures that he never showed anyone else.

And to your joy, he took the bait, his gaze sliding down to you slowly, intense and penetrating and hard to look away from. He crossed the pavement between you both with two strides of his long legs, the air growing thin as you felt the heat from his body grow in intensity as the inches between you both shrank. You refused to flutter your eyes as the clouding effect of his cologne washed over you, invisible hands wrapping around your waist and beckoning you to come closer and give him everything he could possibly want.

The cold steel of your car hitting your back pulled you back into your body, immediately aware of his tall form towering over you. You refused to give in, no matter how much you wanted him to lie you down in the backseat and slide his thick tongue down your body.

Instead you lifted your chin, trying your best to show defiance and ignore the heated gaze that was looking down at you. You could see the mirth in his eyes, his arm pressing against your car, large hand still close to your body.

“And if I did? What then?” His low voice washed over your face, peppermint and a hint of ginger from the tea he snuck a sip of when you weren’t looking. “Hmm?”

You were going to lose this fucking battle and quickly. Your resolve was faltering with every breath you took, every whiff of his smell that practically had you drowning. You were going to make a fool of yourself. You could feel it right around the corner.

He hadn’t moved, his brown eyes sharp and unrelenting as he picked you apart silently, reveling at his effect on you. Your fingers dug into your purse strap further, the sound of the groaning material pulled his eyes to the action before he smirked slowly and slid his eyes back to you. He could tell you were sinking and fast. But you were not going down without a fight. No, instead you lifted your chin again, eyes narrowing at him and casting indifference to his tall frame.

“Cook for me. I expect it to be good.”

He lifted a brow, smirk never faltering.

“And what would you like?”

“Udon, I’ve been craving it. And another batch of brownies.”

He was silent for what felt like minutes, head tilting in contemplation, smirk growing fractionally. The hand on the car slowly drug down to the handle, the sound of the latch disengaging and opening, pushing you closer into his chest that made one of your hands come up to stop yourself from collapsing into him. Well defined muscle and smooth pectorals pressed against your palm, the texture of his ribbed shirt only making you want to rub your hand up and down him.

Damn him to hell.

You cleared your throat and stepped into your open door, his hand falling to his side to give you more breathing room.

“Since you seem to be calling all the shots, what time should I expect you?”

You turned around to look up at him, your eyes still narrowed in challenge.

“Six. It doesn’t have to be done by then, I would like to help if I can. If only to be sure you’re doing it right.”

He pursed his lips, an action you had never seen on him before and it was jarring enough that you cataloged it in your mind for later review.

“Yes ma’am.”

Your blood immediately began to boil, pumping hard between your legs, thighs clenching from his words. He was teasing and the words were only meant in jest, but you couldn’t help but imagine them being whispered to you in earnest, his hands digging in the sheets of his bed, body at your mercy as you rode him into oblivion, snarling at him not to cum until you did.

You could have it if you asked him. Even though your relationship was only just now blossoming, you had a feeling he would make you cum as many times as you wanted if you just pulled him to you and asked.

But instead you growled gently, turning around to climb into your car before the blood made its way to your cheeks and gave you away completely.

“Fuck you.”

He shook out a rare chuckle before closing the door behind you and watching you drive away.

“You look fucking fantastic, stop pulling at your clothes.”

You couldn’t help the eye roll from Ome’s usual ramblings, looking at yourself in the long mirror of her bedroom with frustration. While you wanted to be comfortable, you still wanted to look…a little nice if you could help it.

Ome had insisted on the black leggings and matching long sleeve ribbed sweater in your collection. It was soft and comfortable, showing the gentle curve of your belly but not too tight on your skin. You let your curls hang loose down your back and topped off the look with a simple diamond solitaire necklace and matching earrings.

Ome was glaring at you through the mirror’s reflection, her silver eyes admonishing you from her perch on her large king bed.

“I just want to look nice—”

“You’re fucking beautiful. I hate when you get like this and it’s been a lot more frequent lately.”

Your anger flared as you picked an invisible speck of lint off your arm.

“Well maybe it’s because I don’t feel beautiful, Omelia. I have to hear how I’m overreacting from you and Gojo all the time.”

She scoffed harshly, her body shaking as she rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.

“As if Gojo knows what he’s talking—”

You felt some coil snap as you turned around to glare at her.

“While Gojo can be obnoxious and annoying, he’s also been nothing but nice to me and the people he cares about. I get that you hate most men, but Gojo has been around you too much and tried too hard for you to still be this way. You’ve been nothing but a piece of shit to him! I don’t mean to defend a man but Jesus!”

She was struck silent, eyes wide and filled with disbelief, her head inclined back as if you had yelled in her face. Her perfect eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, full lips opening and closing as she tried to find the words to speak.

You shook out a deep breath, shoulders relaxing and guilt filling you quickly.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you. But someone like Gojo has been trying to even get you to speak normally to him for almost six months now. Give him a chance before you completely resign yourself to ignore him forever. Then you’ll have a valid reason. And I…I haven’t felt confident in my body. I love that I’m pregnant, I do. And I love that I’m growing a life inside of me. But I hate how everything is changing, I’m starting to get stretch marks and my cheeks are more puffy, soon my ankles will swell and I’ll look like a whale. I don’t feel beautiful, Ome. I appreciate your encouragement, but this will probably take me some time.”

You turned back to the mirror, too upset to look at her, and began to tug at your sleeves again.

“I know. I’m sorry. I get so worked up when you talk down on yourself. It only makes me hate your mother more; you were always good at making yourself feel confident, but she should have done that too. I know you’re going through changes so a lot of what you see is hard to comprehend. But you’re glowing, y/n.”

You shook out a small humorless chuckle, your fingers fiddling with the seam along the sides of your sweater.

“All I will say is this, you could have any man you want. Almost every guy in high school tripped over their feet when you looked their way, but you were always focused on grades and getting ahead. Kento Nanami, one of the most distinguished directors of our former company, was able to get all up in that.”

“Ome—” you admonished her, fighting the giggles in your throat as you rolled your eyes to glare at her playfully. She was smiling, pearly whites shining back at you as she reclined on her bed, both hands behind her back.

“I’m serious. That week we were there for the summit, it was almost revolting how many females batted their eyelashes at him. And he turned them down so well even I was impressed. A tall man with a sexy ass voice and an indifferent stare, appearing aloof but capable of taking everyone down a notch with only a few words. Excellent taste in clothes and watches, muscles that make you wanna drool. Men like that have to strap their cock to their leg before they put their pants on.”

You choked on a laugh, your anxiety popping like a bubble before you walked over and kicked her leg.

***

The smell of bread hit your face the minute Nanami opened his apartment door for you.

He was doing this on purpose, there was no other way around it. Black pants, socked feet and a grey short sleeve shirt that hugged him perfectly. Fleshed out pectorals, his biceps stretching the sleeves, a ghosting of abs beneath the fabric. Loose blonde locks framed his sharp face, a few tendrils falling across his forehead as usual and making him look relaxed but also just as rough.

You hated him.

You didn’t, but God how you wanted to in this moment.

“Smells good.”

He didn’t offer a response, pulling the door open and stepping aside so you could walk in. His kitchen island was decorated with different ingredients; a basket of homemade Udon noodles, a small area with dashi and mirin for the soup base, a glass pan shiny with cooking spray and ready for the brownie mix that would surely go inside. A large pot was simmering on the stove, something inside clearly frying and filling the kitchen with the smell of dough that hit you a few minutes ago.

“Would you like a sous chef?”

“No.”

His tone was gentle but firm, a large hand settling on your lower back as he guided you to one of the chairs perched at the island. You settled in the chair, smiling softly at him as he pushed a small pillow down behind you.

“For your lower back, I imagine it’s a little sore. I’ll rub it later.”

You bit your lip at the promise in his low voice, stomach clenching in anticipation as you watched him walk across the kitchen to the fridge, opening it up and setting a small bowl of edamame in front of you. You stayed silent, eyes following his hand as it moved across the counter, long fingers dipping into a bowl of Himalayan salt before he sprinkled a little of it over the green vegetables and pushing it closer to you.

“Eat. A small snack to tide you over so you don’t drool on my granite while dinner is prepared.”

You shot him a narrowed gaze before relenting and popping a stalk into your mouth. He seemed satisfied with the action, a quick emotion passing over his face before he turned around and pulled a kettle from the stove and a glass cup from the cabinet next to him.

You watched the muscles in his back contort and flex, thick bands curling around his shoulder blades and pushing up against the fabric as he poured hot water into the cup and turned around to push ginger tea in your direction before turning back to his position at the stove.

You felt your chest fill with heat at his actions, a blanket of protection falling over you and relaxing your nerves almost instantly. The lapse in conversation had allowed you to finally take in your surroundings. Besides the busy activity in the kitchen, you could hear the faint echoes of jazz music from his living room, pulling your gaze in that direction and landing on the vinyl as it turned slowly, pushing the tonearm up and down as the needle ran over the small ridges and bumps of the record.

The television was playing but the volume was muted and the familiar face of Kourtney and Kim Kardashian bickering over something made you snicker.

“This is a rerun. We both watched it.”

“I like reruns.” He spoke to you softly from across the kitchen, his back still turned to you as his hands moved in the motion of stirring something in the sizzling pot in front of him. “Besides, I’ve missed three episodes and you promised to watch them with me.”

You bit down into another croquette as you watched him mix the soup base together, biceps curling and flexing against the fabric of his shirt, tantalizing you from across the countertop. You swallowed a large chunk of the savory bread, your tongue suddenly too thick in your mouth. Nanami for the most part was his usual silent self, asking you questions occasionally and throwing you soft smiles when you weren’t looking as you ate your fifth croquette of the night, eyes rolling in satisfaction before narrowing at him when you finally caught him staring.

To be honest, Nanami was nervous. It made no sense to be, you both had seen parts of each other to pull away any sort of veil of illusion.

When he blurted out his question of dinner to you three weeks ago in a moment of vulnerability, he hadn’t imagined you would say yes. And since then he had spent too much time on his phone trying to find restaurants. He had tried to picture the layout of his closet to compile an outfit while he laid in his hotel bed night after night, pestered his mother far outside of his character about what she thought you would like. He had finally had it all figured out and one look at your nauseous face yesterday and all of that shattered instantly.

But you had surprised him like always; looked up at him with a fierce gaze and demanded he cook for you. And he agreed immediately, bending to your will without a second thought and slowly reminding himself that this was only the beginning of being prepared to do whatever you asked of him. He reveled at the opportunity. He had never been one to want much; he knew what he liked in a woman. Intelligent, capable, self-assured and motivated, not afraid to speak her mind and state what she wanted without batting an eyelash. You had barged into his life and the minute you had barked at him in his office, showing him just how fierce you were, he knew he was a goner.

Some men would say that he was quick to be ‘whipped’. But Nanami always found that those men were idiots anyway, using their sharp comments to mask insecurity and a small dick. Even Gojo, for as obnoxious and arrogant about his looks and prowess as he was, was quick to give almost anything to the rare girlfriends that he did have.

He couldn’t even say hello to you when he opened his front door earlier that night, trying hard to swallow the drool in his throat and keep his eyes from roving over your form as you looked up at him with a teasing gaze.

His father had told him about the ‘glow’ that his mother had when she was pregnant. He had even read up on it through the various pregnancy books around his home, but you were truly shining. You always were, but it was almost blinding when you hit your second trimester. Your hair was longer, curly locks hitting the middle of your back when he happened to catch it down. Your skin was smoother than usual, cheeks a little more rounded when he caught you smiling occasionally. Being able to see your belly in the clothes you wore stirred something in his gut that was a mix of admiration and primal lust that he was beginning to question. He did that. Kento Nanami did that and could now watch you grow the life he helped make.

His thoughts were only getting bolder, more arousing, and more loud every time he was around you. He marveled at your fumbling form every time he was a little too forward. He knew you felt something for him, he could practically taste it in the air when you were around. He didn’t want to scare you away but if he managed to get his hands on your thighs tonight, all bets might be out the window. Just a little taste and maybe you would relax just a little more into him. Trust him a little more. Smile at him a little more.

“The Nanami men are insatiable once they find someone they want to be with. For Heavens sake, please go easy on her, Kento.”

“Are you sure I can’t help you with anything, Nanami?”

Your voice pulled him from his father’s teasing thoughts, the picture of his mother smacking him in the head put a small smirk on his face before he turned around to look at you. Your lips were slightly shiny from the grease of the croquettes you were eating, eyebrows pinched in worry and hands perched together on the countertop.

“Call me Kento. We are having a child together and I’m cooking for you. All sense of professionalism left a long time ago.” He refused to smirk at the blush that colored your cheeks before you cleared your throat and shot him an exasperated glare.

“And no, I don’t need your help. I just need to cook the Udon and dinner will be served.”

The restraint to hold back groan after groan as the Udon slid down your throat was practically an art. It was perfect, just what you were craving and it seemed to be endless as he placed another small helping into your soup base when you were running low, long fingers elegantly holding chopsticks as he stirred the noodles and soup together before tapping the side of your bowl and pulling back to his own food. The smell of the brownies was growing stronger by the minute as they cooked in his oven, the promise of chocolate growing closer and closer.

***

“I wish you would sit down.”

His raised brow admonished you as he took the empty bowls from your hands and shooed you out of the kitchen. You wandered to his record player, content to watch the vinyl spin slowly and hit your ears with slow jazz as you listened to him wash dishes behind you. Your eyes roamed down to his collection, admiring the many different records of jazz, classical, and even R&B. Every time you were around him, something small only stood out to you more.

“Kento Nanami likes R&B?”

“You sound very disbelieving.”

His voice was quiet from the kitchen but still carried over to you. You didn’t respond, satisfied to look through his collection in silence, a small smile on your face as you learned more and more about him. The sound of him cleaning faded into the background as that familiar warmth roared back to life in your chest. You heart began to flutter as you swiped through each collection, stomach filling with butterflies at the thought of him showing his daughter each one, playing it for her day after day as she grew.

“I should apologize to you.”

The sudden timbre of his voice made you turn around to find him already perched on the couch, both arms extended along the back, his shirt stretching deliciously across his torso. He looked like straight sin, but his eyes held a sense of worry that made you stop any traitorous thoughts from forming. You made your way across the living room, sinking into the soft couch next to him and offering a curious tilt of your head, your curls cascading over your shoulder at the action.

“Why?”

“You look very nice tonight. I thought it the minute I opened the door but I…got quite nervous and didn’t say anything.”

He swallowed softly, brown eyes glancing at his television screen as a means of distraction before flickering back to you.

“Kento Nanami admitting to being nervous? I thought I would never see the day. I should mark the time.”

He hummed in disappointment, eyes narrowing at you.

“Do not tease me. I was raised to be a gentleman and I wanted tonight to be nice for you. For us both.”

“A gentleman would not have done any of the things you did that night. Making a woman cum three times even while drunk? That’s quite an accomplishment.” He shook out a deep chuckle, rolling his eyes even though his cheeks peppered with a hint of blush.

“Besides, I look no different than any other day. I didn’t notice.”

A flash of indignation colored his features, heavy and instant, his eyebrows furrowing, eyelids blinking in astonishment. He turned more to you, arms leaving the back of his couch and falling into his lap.

“Why must you constantly say things that do not make sense?”

His gaze was sharp and serious, posture stiff and unyielding as he stared down at you.

You shrugged and looked away.

“It’s just the pregnancy, there are just some things that make me uncomfortable about myself. I’m not used to having stretch marks or knowing I’m going to get bigger. I just haven’t felt confident recently, but it will pass, Kento. I’m—”

“Beautiful.”

Your tongue curled into the back of your throat from his response, esophagus clenching together, heart skyrocketing in your chest. You remained silent as you watched him push your curls off your shoulder, the warmth of his hand blazing a trail down the skin of your arm and boiling the blood in the tips of your fingers.

“Your stomach is growing our child, getting bigger by the day and I love every second of it. Your cheeks are fuller when you smile. You will probably begin to get stretch marks that I can’t wait to rub oil to help the scarring. Your ankles will probably swell, and I’ll be there to massage them to help you feel better. These are all normal changes, but they make you more beautiful than you already are, y/n. I’ll be here to tell you that every day until you believe it.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that morphed on your face, his words always making the fluttering in your body increase at alarming rates.

“Gosh, you really must have missed me.”

You meant it to be a small joke to put the attention back on him while you got yourself under control. You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, your teeth biting into the flesh as a distraction for your brain so your heart could come back down to normal sinus rhythm.

But all too quickly, you watched him lean closer to you, his body hot and buzzing. You didn’t speak as you watched his dark brown eyes blow out slowly. You stayed frozen when you felt his thumb press against your chin, pulling down to watch your bottom lip slip from the clench of your top teeth. His eyes roved over your face, analyzing every inch, stoic gaze taking you in with an air of nonchalance that was blanketing a heavy layer of lust. When he met your gaze again, you didn’t gasp at the thin ring of brown that looked back at you.

“Is that okay? That I missed you these past three weeks? Am I allowed that?”

You swallowed hard, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as his hungry gaze never left yours.

“I…I suppose that’s okay. I can allow that.”

He hummed in satisfaction, the vibration rattling the barely functioning brain cells in your head. Muscular arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his lap immediately. You held in a squeak at the immediate change in position. He was under you, his warm body bleeding into your skin, soft cologne shooting up your nose and pulling you further into delirium. Even with you on top of him, he still was a head taller than you, his form imposing and looming, head inclined down toward you as he remained silent. His gaze was still sharp, blonde locks on his forehead messy and wild. You wanted to push them out of his face, feel the thick hair between your fingers and watch it flop back into place again.

You wrung your hands together at your sides, nerves making them tremble slightly before you felt Nanami gently grab them both and set them on his chest to help ground you. You wanted to squeeze his muscles, run your fingers down his chest and dip between every crevice of his abdominals. God how you wanted to.

“What else am I allowed then?”

You didn’t have time to stop the blush before it came, coloring your face with shame as you picked apart the innuendo. You would allow him to do just about anything at this point.

“I…well.”

You cleared your throat, trying your best to shoot him an annoyed glare.

From the way the corners of his lips twitched into a smirk, you had clearly failed.

“That depends, Kento. Name your price.”

He hummed playfully in contemplation, his large hands smoothing up your back, burning your skin and making your eyes flutter.

“A kiss. Nothing too scandalous.”

You felt one of his hands tilt your chin up to face him.

“Unless you would like it to be.”

There was a ringing in your ears, faint but incessant in your head as you tried to pull your soul back down to your body. You didn’t know why you were resisting so much. Maybe it was fear that he would have you again and then not want you anymore. Maybe you were afraid to disappoint him. Your lips were chapped, cheeks burning and slightly sweaty, chest heaving against him, definitely not the picture of lust.

You held your ground, his last teasing sentence playing in your mind over and over as you spoke.

“Not too scandalous then.”

His lips were on you as soon as you finished speaking, soft and full and overwhelming. Without the haze of alcohol, it was so much more powerful. His lips practically made yours dance, telling you where to go and how to tilt your head. The gentle dig of his teeth in your bottom lip made you clench your hands into the fabric of his chest. Large hands squeezed your waist, pulling you impossibly closer before one trailed up your back and buried into the hair at the nape of your neck.

You felt him tug firmly, pulling your lips from each other with a loud smack, your heavy breathing filling the air and then stuttering to gain control as you felt him trail his lips down your neck. His full lips were wet as they kissed against your skin, pulling it into his mouth before digging his teeth into the flesh. You blushed hard at the choked breath that rushed out your throat, head still inclined to the ceiling as he kept a gentle grip in the hair of your nape.

You knew what was coming, had dreamt of it ever since that night. Nanami could get progressively nasty and fast. It didn’t take long and you didn’t hold back the whine that slid from your mouth as you felt a thick and hot tongue lick a slow trail up your neck, tantalizing and eager, pressing into the salt of your skin with the promise to be everywhere else if you let him.

“K-Kento.”

You were practically dripping in your leggings, your cunt throbbing and ceaseless as it ground against him. Your jaw dropped open as you felt him hard and thick beneath you, pressing through the crease of his pants.

The hand in your hair slid down to your ass, joining the other before he squeezed hard and pressed his lips to yours again. Your vision was swimming and you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him closer and ground yourself into the present at the same time. Anything to fight the onslaught of lightheadedness as you felt his lips open yours with a gentle give and his tongue slide into your mouth. You could still taste the Udon and tea on his tongue.

You didn’t care about the whimper that left your throat. You couldn’t give a shit as you rocked your hips against his, the slick arousal making you slide in your panties as reveled in the firmness of him beneath you.

You tried not to care as the sound of the oven beeping made you both jump. You pulled your lips away from him, your eyes sliding to the open kitchen. Nanami didn’t seem to care, his lips sliding back against the skin of your throat, worrying the flesh between his teeth.

“Kento. The brownies.”

“Let them burn.”

His voice was rough, thick and heady as he spoke against your throat. You felt your cunt throb against him in response, an action that he clearly felt before he rutted his hips up into yours.

Even though the lust was practically suffocating you, you had been craving those brownies the minute Nanami slid them into the oven. Your pregnancy cravings were hard to curb once they made their intentions known.

How you loved the girl growing inside of you. But she had proved yet again to be a cock block.

You pushed him away playfully, marveling at the subtle pout on his face. Blown out pupils narrowed up at you. He was the very picture of a boy who had been deprived of sweets before dinner; petulant and miffed, but still going to listen.

“Fine, fine.”

He sighed out the words, sliding you off his lap before he stood and disappeared into the kitchen. You turned to look at him over the couch, the action making the muscles in your lower back croak in soreness. You winced silently, cursing internally at yet another thing in your life keeping you from getting laid.

You thought the twinges in your back would disappear after a minute or so. But by the time Nanami joined you in the living room ten minutes later, they had only intensified. He set a plate of freshly cut brownies on the coffee table in front of you before sitting back down next to you.

“What’s wrong?”

Sometimes you hated how observant he was; your face was straight as an arrow but he saw right through it. Even though his brain was riddled with sinful thoughts, his concern for you made it all fizzle away.

You sighed in defeat.

“My lower back. It’s hurting a little. I didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

A familiar eyebrow lifted in response before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours softly and briefly, pulling away with a playful smirk on his face.

“What an odd thing to say. You're here with me, my mood will always be better than what it was before.”

He offered you nothing else as he moved you to sit between his legs with your back to his chest. You watched in silence as he turned on one of the episodes of the Kardashians he had missed, placed the plate of brownies into your lap, and gently pressed his fingers into your lower back.

One of his hands smoothed your curls from your back and over a shoulder to be out of the way and you felt his lips press to the side of your neck before he watched television with you in silence. Your heart fluttered for what felt like the millionth time in the two days since he had returned, chest filling with warmth as you took a big bite of a brownie and settled further into him.

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