STAY UP | NANAMI KENTO X READER
Nanami Kento x Reader | JJK Series | Fem! Reader, She/Her
WORD COUNT: 4,658 words (too many)
CONTENT: NSFW / bad driving do NOT attempt in real life, a bratty y/n is bratty, slightly sadistic nanami?, dom nanami, bondage lite, groping, oral female receiving, fire, explosions, a little bit of public nudity, smoking
A BAD SUMMARY: The one where y/n sets the rental car on fire, nanami gets choked with his own tie, and both end up smoking by the fire.
prompt was picked by and for @soleilnomoon. once again I deliver a little late but it is here!
you and your infinite patience were at your limit.
the heat was insubordinate. the uniform was unnecessarily restrictive. this pairing? simply the worst case scenario.
brown eyes reflect back at you through the rear view mirror; you look away from your own to stare at the knitted brows of the driver. he hasn't said a word since he started driving twenty minutes ago. part of you is thankful for the quiet; a nice little reprieve for gojo satoru constantly reminding you how much he loves the sound of his own voice.
nanami’s voice; however—low, and thick like raw honey—always oozes around you when he speaks. for his words, no matter how curt or succinct, you never minded getting sticky.
the only problem was that the air in the moving car was bone dry.
you swallow a sigh and roll your eyes away from the reflection of his forehead in the mirror. you focus instead on the moving cars flying past you, the blurry trees and buildings in the distance; buildings full of people living their quiet mundane lives unaware of the evils you and your comrades face regularly. perhaps if you focus your bitter feelings on them, and not on the electrifying presence of the person next you, you can muster enough courage to start a conversation yourself.
words purr like a starting engine in the back of your mouth, and falter there, sputtering back into nonexistence.
you were starting to wonder if you were an idiot. A massive one at that.
the weight of your blush crushes your cheeks. The heat inside the car intensifies; drops of sweat slide down the back of your neck, and down your chest where they lay down to die between your breasts. without thinking further, you undo the top two buttons of your white dress shirt. once again you were reminded of how unreasonable the uniform was. in whose right mind did they think this kind of business attire was appropriate or even efficient?
a thirst gnaws at you with dull teeth; not sharp enough to draw blood but enough to bruise. you lick your lips at the discomfort, anything for some kind of reprieve.
“Nanamin!” you sing, turning your torso to place an elbow on the headrest of the passenger seat. lips stretch into a mischievous grin.
Nanami Kento looks at you sideways behind his dark glasses; not that you notice. he finds your facial expression absolutely predatory; a hyena waiting for scraps.
“Nanamin?” he repeats tilting his head slightly as he focuses on the road ahead of them. “You’ve been spending too much time with Gojo.”
you sigh before you can help it. your body instinctively moves away, and turns to face the front of the car once more. “Ehh,” you whine with a shrug. “I can’t say you’re wrong but it’s not like I have a choice. Nobody else wants to partner with me.”
pitiful, that's what you were. Not strong enough to go on solo missions, but too intolerable to have a steady partner. you prop your elbow on the passenger door and cradle your chin on a closed fist. Once again the quickly passing scenery makes you feel a tiny bit nostalgic.
“That’s because you don’t know how to follow orders,” Nanami responds hotly. this was the reason he had moaned when given the mission details, and the knowledge that you had been assigned as his partner. “If you would just listen and think before you–”
“What's the point?” you cut him off, dark eyes still cast on the distant buildings. “You told me yourself once. All of us in this line of business will die one way or the other. It’s not a choice. The only thing we can choose, the only thing we have control over, is how we die. So let me die how I want.”
“Did I say that?” he retorts. he feels his jaw tense as he bites down. he doesn't recall and he usually remembers everything he says, but with you, every meeting was always a heated blurr of strange occurrences. he would feel dizzy for days after, thinking of you in the middle of work. it annoyed him almost as much as working over time did. why would he have to preoccupy himself with you off duty? it was simply unacceptable.
“Didn’t you?” you spit back, and look over at him with raised brows. your head tilts, almost mockingly and he glances at you briefly. his fingers flex and grasp the wheel tighter. it was all he could do to keep himself from smacking the back of your head. he grunts in response if only to get you to stop staring at him.
you consider this a little victory and smile to yourself as you kick off your kitten heels. you stop to think about his reaction for only a split second before you put your feet up in the dash. you hear him start to protest.
“Oh, come on!” you beg. your hands clap together once and remain there to pray for a miracle. “It’s so hot, it’s so hot. They’re just feet!”
what you really wanted was to take off your blazer and button down shirt but that was inadvisable. Nanami would most definitely be uncomfortable with that and in turn that would only excite you more. just thinking about his flushed face forces you to take a deep breath; anything to slow down your racing heart.
appearances were everything so you place your folded hands behind your back, feet still on the dash. your eyes search for any crack in nanami’s facade. It was hard to find anything from his profile; all you saw was a sharp jawline and a fleshy bottom lip.
You stare a breath too long, and he looks over at you briefly.
“What is it?” he asks, a brow high on his forehead, challenging you. your tongue darts out to moisten dry lips. it barely helps. you still feel parched and you were still, last you checked, a feen for challenges, impossible and possible alike.
“I’m really hot,” you state in an uneven tone. breathing suddenly felt complicated. how the hell did that happen? “Do you mind?” you don't wait for his answer and take off your blazer, stretching white fabric moistened with sweat against your chest as you move.
Nanami didn’t often curse but he felt this time would be appropriate. still, he refrains, glancing desperately between you and the road. knuckles turn white with worry as he grips the steering wheel tighter and tighter.
“What are you doing?” Nanami spits between clenched teeth, every syllable forced and controlled. “Put it back on.”
“I refuse,” you say, throwing the blazer towards the backseat with one hand. Your other hand found more buttons to undo, at least two more. Cleavage exposed now, you breathe a sigh. The cold air coming from the air conditioning vent caressing the top of your breasts felt as if heaven sent. You could only think of very few things better than this.
as if possessed, your eyes glance at nanami’s face, and his mouth—the divinity of which you only wish you knew from personal experience. His face was covered in pink splotches. your eyes dart from his cheeks to his neck. you can’t help but wonder if his chest is the type to become splotchy as well. you desperately want to find out. the longer you stare, the more you see the vein on his forehead bulge. you try to bite back a chuckle but it doesn’t work very well. you hope he didn’t hear but you know he did. You can tell by the way his shoulders tense further.
He moans your name like a curse, like a burden. You feel your stomach dip uncomfortable. Guilt wades through the mess of emotions filling you, trying to ruin your bit of fun. You try to squash it, stomp it out, chewing desperately on the inside of your cheek until you draw blood.
“Tell me something,” he finally says in a guttural whisper.
“Mmm?” you’re distracted by the taste of iron in your mouth, by your own thoughts. perhaps you had gone too far–again. perhaps this will be the last time. the real last time.
“Do you not see me as a man?”
the question was unexpected. you find yourself unable to respond. Static noise fills your brain. there's a vague sense of urgency. You feel as if you need to say something, quickly, before he is offended.
“An old man, maybe,” you finally say with a crooked grin.
“Am I a joke to you?”
no. absolutely not is what you wish to say but once again the words remain stagnant in your throat, choking you and depriving you from air. It was all you could do to blame your sudden stupidity on.
“You’re a man, Nanami Kento,” you sigh and glance out the window. It is your attempt at ignoring the blazing heat scorching the skin of your cheeks. “Do you really have to make me say it out loud?” you mutter, drawing nonsense circles on the passenger door window with your finger. “So embarrassing.”
there was silence after the confession. your heart plummets to freezing depths. you wish you could take the words back. you try to think of a solution. maybe you can jump out of the moving car and pretend nothing happened. maybe die? both situations seem infinitely more favorable than staying in this steel ton death trap with a silent and pensive nanami kento.
“Good,” his voice cuts through the silence, deadly and icy. “Since you’re aware,” he drags his vowels. Your eyes dart from his face to the road, to his hand sliding towards your knee. “You understand the consequences.”
“What consequences?” you question quickly. it was in your nature to question, debate, to doubt even now as Nanami’s warm hand, large and calloused, grips your knee.
the car swerves, cutting from one lane to the next. your head snaps to glance at the rear view mirror, and to look behind you. fortunately, there was no traffic to be seen.
“You’re driving kind of–” you don’t finish your sentence. Nanami’s hand is sliding higher up your leg. his thumb is drawing slow large circles on the outside of your clothed thigh.
the car comes to a stop at the side of the road. Behind Nanami you can see the stormy sea, brewing, thrashing and deadly–so was the look in his eyes.
your instincts scream; they kick their legs and draw their claws. your throat seizes as you swallow back the smart remarks, the funny quips threatening to bubble out; your defensive shield at whoever dares to intrude on your vulnerability. intimacy was a forbidden subject; taboo. you always skittered around it, chasing highs while they were uncomplicated and moved on to the next victim without a goodbye. the last person you wanted to become entangled with, despite what your night fantasies would say, was Nanami Kento.
you felt safe with him. it would be too easy to stay.
he moves slowly. you can see the muscles of his shoulders rippling under his shirt; lethal and lithe, like a large feline. you want to smile at the realization but his hands start treacherous fires where he touches your thighs. he grips them and pulls you towards him—in a quick move—he turns you and your back slams against the passenger door. You’re not sure when he had the time to unbuckle himself, or to measure the distance between you and. All you know is you can’t move from where he has you—trapped between the blistering heat of his body and the passenger door.
“Should we–Should we talk about this?” you stammer, lightly placing one hand on his chest. Your fingers fiddle with his tie; ever so formal. You smile and pull at it with both hands, tightening it just enough to cross the edge of reason. Nanami’s eyes narrow at the tightness around his neck, gagging and choking slightly. He groans after clearing his throat and slaps your hands away only to seize your wrists with thick fingers.
“No,” he says in a disbelieving tone; one hand keeps your wrists at his mercy, the other undoes his tie. “You’re already breaking rules.” You frown, confused more at these supposed rules than at the fact that he was tying your wrists together with the tie he had removed.
“What rules? You didn’t tell me there were rules,” you complain petulantly. Your bottom lip sticks out in a dramatic pout. You feel nanami’s eyes landing on it. Heat pools at the bottom of your belly. You shift your weight in your seat, feeling a pleasurable wetness starting between your legs. Your thighs rub together in anticipation. If he didn't kiss you soon you thought you might just catch fire. He must have read your thoughts. His mouth clashes with yours in a tight lipped kiss; a little clumsy and more forceful than you expected. He pulled away enough to punish your bottom lip between his teeth.
“Must I spell everything out for you?” he asks, nipping at the corners of your mouth, dropping soft feathery kisses on your cheek. His hands had found your neck and they held you in place, as if you would run away from his affections. you smile derisively at your thoughts, even as goosebumps rush up and down your arms at the feel of his hot open mouth on your neck.
he fights intoxication. The taste of salt on your skin becomes his newfound obsession. Tongue pressed flush against your pulse. His eyes flutter as he feels your heartbeat getting quicker and quicker. Lashes flutter at the feel of your breasts under his hands. He had dreamed of this. He wasn’t proud of it. Not at all. In fact he was quite disappointed in himself.
How could he lack such imagination?
Not a moment of his dreams could compare to the weight of your breasts as he palmed them under your bra. They couldn’t compare to the warmth and softness he felt as he kneaded them. You mewl gently, wriggling underneath him. His mouth becomes hungrier, he devours what’s near it, biting and sucking. Fingers are adept at finding your weaknesses, pinching hardened sensitive nipples between thumb and index fingers. He twirls his fingers gently, and sometimes with a little more force.
Your legs move in an attempt to get closer. It's all you can do. Your hands are tied, and you begin to hate it. You hate the way his face is buried in your neck, sucking and biting and you can’t bring him closer to you; can’t run your fingers through his thick dark blond hair the way you’ve always imagined. You can’t run your palms down the length of his back, feel the muscles that keep him alive. Want piles and piles inside of you in a perilous tower, tilting and swaying, waiting for the least opportune moment to collapse.
“Nanami,” you hiss, as he rips what’s left of your shirt. You wanted to tell him he owed you a uniform but you loathed it anyway. He pushes your bra up to expose your breasts. Whatever you had wanted to say is already forgotten. You are entranced by the way his eyes darken at the sight of your breasts, the way his tongue dips out to moisten his bottom lip as if preparing for an unexpected feast. Pleasure gnaws at you again, pulling at your navel making you feel as if you could plummet to whatever darkness hid behind Nanami’s eyes.
Whatever it was, however dark, you wanted to follow him through.
His mouth met your breast like a long lost lover. Your back arches at the feel of his tongue pressing and sucking against your nipple. Moans leave you before you can even think to hold them. Fire burns between your legs, and you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. You crave him. This is not enough, he holds one breast with one, opening wide to suck in as much as he can. His free hand holds you up, pressing against the small of your back, trying to bring you even closer to him, as if he could devour you whole if he tried enough.
Your fingers curl and close trying to clutch and hold, but they grasp nothing.
“This isn’t fair,” you whine, tossing your head as he rips another olundating moan from you. He releases your breast with a pop and looks up at you through blond lashes. His face is flushed, eyes dark with lust, lips moistened by his own saliva.
He couldn’t look more delicious if he tried.
“I told you there are consequences,” he says, rubbing one scruffy cheek against your sensitive breast. The prickly sensation makes you squirm, and you swallow a gasp, trying to keep your composure. He kisses the bruise he left on his current favorite breast, and moves on to the other one, leaving a wet trail behind him. “If you had been good, things would be different.”
You roll your eyes. Just as well, since he takes your attention deprived nipple between his teeth and tugs. “Ah!” you yell, and your back snaps. You feel him smile against your breast before he kisses around it, leaving your nipple alone. He bites, and sucks, using a hand to expose the underside where he becomes stubbornly obsessed with leaving a hickey. “Don’t just—” why would he stop?
Nanami sucks his teeth. His hands are under you as he sucks on your breast, he finds the curve of your ass and grips. He mumbles against you. His words don’t register, you’re just trying to keep him where he is, hands tied, pressing against his back.
His hand is fumbling with your back pockets and for a moment you wonder what he is up to. Was this some other trick of his? He releases your breast, drool hanging off his chin. He lifts up the hand that had been in your back pocket and he holds up a lighter.
You feel slightly embarrassed but find it impossible to care for long. After all, you were itching for him to continue. You rub your legs together and whine.
“Yes, yes I know,” you say, aware of the inflection in your voice; petulant and childish. “Smoking is bad. Can we get on with it?”
“We’ll talk about this later,” he says, not so eager to let it go, as he wiggles the lighter in the air, dotting the I’s and crossing the t’s in his sentence. You watch as he tosses it unceremoniously on the dashboard. You quickly grow distracted. His mouth is back on your breasts and you shudder, feeling the heated coil within you tightening and tightening. At this rate, you were about to plummet into ecstasy before you could lay a single finger on Nanami. His fingers slip under your waistband and he pulls down your pants, roughly tugging until you are free.
You see him toss them to the back of the car where your blazer had disappeared earlier. Heated fingers dance over the skin of your thighs. They press against the inside of them, pushing your legs apart. You try to hide your face, somehow finding the energy to feel embarrassed. You want to beg. You want to ask him not to say anything about how wet you are but his fingers are reaching out, pushing against the wet stain on your panties. You bite down a whimper.
“Look at you,” he breathes, using his thumb to draw a line up and down on your covered slit. “So wet and I’ve barely started.”
You gasp as he presses against your clit. He rubs lazy circles over your panties with his thumb, his free hand teasing, following the wet slick trail your cunt left on your underwear. You try swallowing your moans but it’s no use. He takes them from you with little effort, and you choose to stop fighting.
He leans forward and presses his mouth against the inner side of your right knee, then left. He kisses sloppily up your inner thigh with a hot open mouth. You feel him leaving his scent on your skin and the thought somehow makes you hornier. You want to feel him everywhere. You want to go home and smell him on your skin, in your hair. Hot mouth finds the space where your hip meets your thigh and he licks up and down before sucking, eager to leave his mark there as well.
After having his fill, he pulls your panties to the side, and dives into your heated pussy. Another moan, louder than before, forces you to arch your back. You hook your tied hands over his head as he laps at your pussy, tasting your wetness, taking in your musky scent. Your fingers aren’t long enough to reach where you want them so you grasp at bits of hair in hopes of grounding yourself. He slips his tongue between your lips, teasing your entrance, and your hips buck. You want him more than anything at the moment. You want to feel him inside you. You gyrate your hips as he works his tongue up and down your slit, wanting to take control. He laughs and grasps one hip to push you down.
“That’s enough,” he whispers to your clit before sucking it. You scream out at the sensation. You can feel it throbbing, aching. You’re so close. Your fingers tug on his hair and pull as you push your hips up, chasing the high of your orgasm. You cry out, his name a song on your lips. He smiles against your pussy and hums.
“Good girl, I’ll give you what you want now.” His voice is a low growl and it brushes your skin. You are aflame. You hold your breath as he unties your wrist. You remind yourself to breathe in as he unbutton his shirt. His smile is crooked and wicked as he leans forward, guiding your hands to his chest. You are beside yourself. The warmth under your palms makes you shiver. You feel the quivering in your thighs as your hands draw down, fingertips rolling over chiseled abs. You trail the sharpness of his muscles with both hands, that form together to create a villainous V.
Oh how you despised it and the way it made you want him more and more.
You look up in time to see his dark gaze on you. There is a soft smile dancing on his lips. He leans forward and captures your bottom lip, sucking it in, grazing his tongue across it.
You melt under the heat. He is on you, feverishly leaving kisses all over your face as he gathers you in his arms. He pulls you on his lap and helps you straddle him. Your hands are grasping everything in sight, everything they saw and wanted but could not have. You grip his biceps, admiring the thickness of them. Your hands comb through his hair as you kiss him, tongues clashing, teeth clumsily biting and scratching lips. You allow fingertips to dance around his jawline, committing it to memory.
He tries to catch your fingers, nibbling at them when they get close to his mouth.
“Are you almost done?” he asks impatiently, pushing up against your crotch. You hum, feeling yourself bush. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, biting down on his shoulder. You can feel him, hot and hard, ready. This isn’t your first time. Far from it, yet why did anxiety flutter in your chest?
“N-not yet,” you stall, grinding your hips as if to keep him satisfied. He moans, holding your head closer to him. You drop kisses on his collarbone and allow your hands to roam around his lower back. You’re busily suckling on the hollow of his clavicle when you hear him hum and sniff. You lick your way up his neck and to his pulse, where you suck greedily. You too are eager to leave your mark. His hand is in your hair and he tugs at it.
“Smell that?” he asks.
Your sniff, unsure if this was a trick question. You pause and smell it: smoke.
“What’s that?” you ask, sitting straight up. Nanami moans as he holds your thighs and gives you a look that reads–don’t do that if you plan on stopping. “I’m serious.”
You glance behind you and see a tiny gray trail of smoke growing bigger and bigger on the dashboard. Your mind is foggy. Your lips are swollen, and your sensitive vagina is throbbing, aching for release but there was smoke in the car. Your brain couldn’t click the thoughts together to form the complete puzzle.
“Get out,” you hear Nanami say close to your ear. He is reaching behind the driver’s seat. He grasps a black blazer and opens the driver’s door with his other hand. You’re pushed out of the vehicle and stumble forward braless, in soiled panties on to the road. You run towards the side, hoping no traffic comes.
“Nanami!” you hiss, covering your tits. “What the fuck?”
He is following you, putting the blazer around your shoulders. He gives no answers as he speeds up, and drags you along, a quick sprint.
“Move. Fast,” he says with urgency and your legs, weak and trembling, carry you as best as you can. The smell of smoke intensifies and you dare to look over your shoulder.
The rental was on fire.
Your eyes widen even as Nanami urges you to keep going. Your legs pick up the pace. A resounding boom fills the open space by the sea, and you can hear the ocean pushing back. You lose your balance, and Nanami is quick to hold you, pulling you up by your arms. You look past him, and see the sad remains of the rental vehicle, still on fire.
“How much do you think that costs?” you ask him with a sour taste in your mouth. He looks down at you and takes in your downturned lips, and wide eyes.
“I don’t know, several thousand?”
“There goes my whole paycheck,” you whine, covering your face. “Was it even worth it?” A split second after speaking you realize you might have misspoke. An apology is about to fly out of your mouth but Nanami’s still face suddenly changes. His lips split and he laughed, a hearty belly laugh. The corners of his eyes crinkled. Your hands found his chest and let them rest there, feeling the rumbling underneath them. You allow warmth to spread through you.
“Oh,” he sighs, pressing his forehead against yours. “Nobody’s ever made a laugh like that in a long,” he pauses to brush his nose against yours ever so lightly. “Long time.”
His hand rests on your cheek and you take it in between yours. You have no funny words, no smart remarks. No defensive tactic is left to hold him back.
“That’s still coming out of our paycheck.”
You groan and reach inside the pocket of your blazer. You pull out a pack of smokes and smack it on your hand repeatedly. Nanami’s eyes are heavy on you. You glance at the ground as you pull out a cigarette.
“Might as well,” you suggest with a shrug, tilting your head back to appeal to Nanami. You grab another cigarette and offer it to him. “You blew up my lighter so…” You walk towards the fire and reach out to light your cigarette. Nanami sighs beside you and plucks the other cigarette from you.
“Just this one time,” he says with a pointed stare.
Cigarettes lit, you both stare at the fire.
“So, absolutely no chance in writing this off as a business expense?” you ask Nanami, cigarette hanging from the corner of your mouth.
“Am I a joke to you?”