Work Text:
You are a problem.
An annoyance, at that. This is what Nanami thinks every day. At first it wasn’t every day. You were an easy hire, intelligent and witty at the interview. Right for the job. Of course your appearance didn’t factor into hiring you, Nanami was better than that. But it didn’t hurt.
It was merely a passing notice of how good you looked in a pencil skirt? So what.
But then there had to be a rearrangement of the office, headed by you, of course. Talking to him about superior workflow, and looking out for the team. Now every single day Nanami had to walk past you. Had to look out of the glass windows at his office at you. Still, keeping his mind on you only during work hours he could manage.
That was when the games started. Bringing him in a far too bitter coffee and croissant, alongside a warm smile full of good intentions. Thanking him for the hire once again, like you needed to praise him. The next time it was coffee, with sugar this time, and a bagel. The next a danish, then a chocolate twist, and so on. Every single day at 11am he could expect a visit from you. ‘Just being a friendly face, Nanami’ you’d laugh.
You were too demure, and Nanami doesn’t play with subtleties. Business is calling it how you see it, asking for what you want. You did anything but.
It was almost as if you thought he was stupid. That you thought Nanami couldn’t read into your smiles, the way your hips swayed as you walked away. Buttons that would mysteriously be done and undone depending who was around. Nanami didn’t become CEO from idiocy, and you were becoming a problem.
Further still when on one Saturday morning his stomach growled. An intense craving for something sweet and full of carbs. Damn you. Can’t he even have his weekend in peace? Damn you again, when he’s in the shower, slowly fisting his cock to the thought of you in office wear.
He lets his thoughts of you swirl down the drain, because if one thing is certain it’s that Nanami Kento doesn’t get distracted.
It’s almost like you know what you’ve begun to do to him. Brushing next to him in hallways, in elevators. Staying late and making talk with him over the photocopier.
“Anything I can do to be of service, Sir!” you chirp at him, taking papers out for him.
If he’s looking quizzically at files on his computer, you’re leaning over his shoulder. The sight of your cleavage and the sweet smell of your perfume mixing into one. You make him feel tighter in his slacks, and from your expression you fucking know it.
“Is there a problem, Sir?” As if you don’t know already.
His eyes harden into steel, lips drawing into a straight line. “None at all,” he’d reassure, placing a hand on your back to show you out the room.
He’d echo the way you say ‘Sir’ again and again, rolling and twisting his wrist on his length. Your subtleties are falling away, leaving him on edge throughout the day. Something would need to be done, and soon, he thinks as his cum washes from between his fingers.
In business and in pleasure, Nanami Kento doesn’t wait.
So he sees your hand and he raises. He leaves you a drink on your desk. Asks if you need anything picked up from the printer. When you ask if you can ‘help out, Sir’ he smiles, and sits back. You are more than welcome to lean across him. He’ll inhale your scent and let a finger trail up the back of your thigh. Two can play at the teasing game.
Both of you are more brazen now. Leaning against elevator walls at an adjacent, both sets of eyes clearly undressing the other. Co-workers fill the space around you. He’d fuck you now if he could, he’d make you regret ever starting this little game.
But then he’d be the one breaking, and he most certainly won’t do that. Nanami will wind you up until you can do nothing more than beg to be fucked.
It gets easier, over the months you’ve been playing this game, you’ve become more pliable. Every now and then a soft but demanding ‘sir’, even a 'Ken’ will fall from your delicate lips as if needy for attention. You all but sit yourself in his lap, desperate to have his hand squeeze a thigh. You’ve started wearing loose skirts now, which hasn’t gone unnoticed.
Time to play his highest card, then.
Knuckles graze up and down the back of your leg, each time passing higher on your thigh. He flattens his palm, letting his thumb trace circles into the plush skin. Nanami would admire how he can squeeze the flesh. He’d admire your little sighs as you explain something about a better filing system.
It’s boring. Your voice could be more strained, the tone he’s come to love saying many more exciting things. His hand raises, and before he gets anywhere you remind him about the glass windows. Ah, you want to act like you know his plans?
Nanami makes sure his body blocks you from any onlookers and office daydreamers. He massages the swell of your ass as you pretend to work. Fingertips press against your clothed cunt. He feels the line of your slit, how your lips feel against his fingers. How he wants to spread them, let the whole office know how you really are.
The warmth between your legs is inviting, and Nanami wants the feel of heat. A thumb curls under the fabric of your panties, pushing it to the side as a finger slips easily inside you. You turn to scold him, to tell him this is going too far too publicly. Perfect timing considering Nanami has been watching the area manager strolling towards his office.
He’ll shut you up, watching the door swing open and knowing that you can’t move, lest you reveal yourself. Nanami and the manager discuss in swift short sentences. Nanami is a hard man, one who doesn’t deal with fools easily. Everything is to his demands and his standards. He imagines you’d think that he’d let his mind fall from the attention on you, focus entirely on his work. Maybe he’d even let you think it for a minute, stilling his fingers inside you.
Once you let go of the tight grip around his index, the middle finger would join it. Standing so perfectly, so innocently beside him. Telling the manager you’re here to help “poor Ken.” You giggle, “ he doesn’t know his way around a computer.”
He curls his fingers at that, finding the spot that makes your legs squeeze around him. Your voice cracks, wet pussy clenching around him as your slick drips down his strong fingers.
The manager leaves, and you flop back to the desk on your forearms. One hand on the mouse, for posterity’s sake. Nanami can only smile down at you from his seat, watching your eyes darken and gloss. The way your lips part and you let out small mewls.
He’s working you so easily, the rush of the moment leaving a tight coil building in your stomach. A thumb brushes your clit and you know you’re going to fall off that precious edge any minute.
“Ken, pl-please.”
“Who?”
You turn to look at him, eyebrows raising in a way that he knows is from a muddle of confusion and closeness.
“I-I’m-”
“No.”
He withdraws his fingers, and inspects you. It makes you feel so small, so utterly overwhelmed and humiliated from the situation. Your pussy is clenching around nothing, head entirely lost in the idea that you were about to come in his office. Anyone could have seen.
Using his pocket square to clean his hand, Nanami ushers you from the room. “Think about your words next time.”
At least the next time gives you hope.
As he returns to work, he can sense your stare on him through the glass. Maybe he would have given you what you wanted, had you not been so expectant and condescending. Maybe if you’d have used his favorite word.
But no, Nanami Kento gets what he wants.
You are a mess the next few days, much to his amusement. Each time he ‘bumps’ into you, there’s a little squeak in your voice, a neediness in your eyes. His hand brushes your ass in the elevator. Fingers curl at the nape of your neck so quickly you could barely feel them.
It’s playing with your every sense. You’re falling apart, constantly reminded of your desire for your boss by the ache at your core. Your own fingers can’t solve the issue, a miserable reminder of how good his were in their place.
You think over the teasing that had led you here. It’d been fun, and then even more enjoyable once he returned with his own flirts. The way his cheeks pinked a little whenever you called him Sir had been your favorite.
There it was, the lightbulb above your head, and suddenly you understood all that he wanted. Nanami had taken it a step beyond anything you expected, and you knew how to give him his reward.
One more late night, one more day of overtime before the weekend.
It’s a long wait, but finally the last desk lamp flicks off, besides your own. Quick goodbyes are given, and in the low light of the office, you can turn and see Nanami watching you. Sleeves are rolled to show his forearms, his tie knot is slightly loose, blond hair falling just out of place.
There’s no point in teasing and waiting anymore. You move towards him, pushing the glass door and running on adrenaline as you stalk towards his chair. His head cocks, as if questioning your motives.
Your hand wraps around the knot of his tie, pulling him straight in his seat. “I think it’s time you give me what I deserve,” a quick inhale before you breathe, “Sir.”
His flat features quickly turn into a cruel smile, his eyes looking up at you with power not usually reserved for this position. Hands grope your ass, before moving sharply down to your knees and planting you on top of him.
You straddle him, noses just touching as your breath fans over his lips. Naturally they part, and your move to slot your mouth against his. It’s needy and desperate and quickly wet with your tongues sliding together. He licks in your mouth, hands still squeezing the flesh of your thighs. Your own pull him close by his tie, brush over the short hair on his neck.
It’s no time at all before you can feel his bulge against your crotch, and your little whines aren’t missed by him as you grind yourself against it.
“Needy little thing, aren’t you?”
It’s said so plainly, like it’s a simple truth. Once again the flash of humiliation courses through you, your eyes ducking from his in shame.
“Oh, are you not?” His hand moves between your thighs, pressing against your panties once again. This time you’re warmed up, and he can feel the damp spot. “You’re not wet right now, grinding against your boss’s cock?”
Your voice is lost to your whimper, moving your hips to rub yourself on his fingers.
“If you’re not needy, then you don’t want this, correct?” His hands leave you.
“No!” You’re surprised by the desperation in your own voice as you continue, “Ke- Sir, please. I do, I do need it.”
“You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He smiles, as if he’s sweet and kind and wants only the best.
But his actions are quick and almost cruel in their intensity. Fingers push your underwear aside, not giving you the warm up of one, twisting two fingers inside you. You whine against his mouth, digging teeth into his lip as he makes his way inside of you. His other hand comes up to your jaw, pulling you off him. “Are you sure you want to play like that?”
Something about his question throws worry your way, but the way his fingers curl inside you leave you with nothing but moans in response.
He’s quick to bring you to the edge, perhaps from how many failed orgasms you’ve had since his fingers were last inside you. You’re tightening, basically fucking yourself on his hand and letting your head fall to his shoulder. He grips your hair, pulling you back.
“No, no. You let me see you when you come.”
You nod, holding your breath as your thighs and cunt tighten together. There’s something about the element of control he has over you that makes you want to give it all to him. “Please, please, I-I- I wanna come,” you get out between breaths and cries.
The way his eyes flash makes you think you’ve made the right decision. He wants you to surrender everything to him. Your orgasm is his.
“Come for me.”
The coil breaks, and you writhe on top of him. He keeps his fingers pressing against your g-spot, and you clutch onto his forearm, leaving crescent moons embedded in him. You can hear how wet you are, the squelching between you obscene and loud in the quiet of the office. You’re squirming, quickly overstimulated by his incessant digits.
He’s quick to move you to the desk, hands gripping the buttons of your shirt and ripping. Nanami doesn’t care about your protests, he knows you’ll forgive him. Your tits are pulled from your bra, his fingers plucking at your nipples till they’re hardened peaks. Panties lie discarded on the ground.
Your skirt is pushed up so he can spread your legs, and finally his thumbs can part your folds. It leaves you embarrassed and shy, the man before you watching how your hole tries to tighten around nothing.
Nanami stands, looking down at you with a hint of something dark in his eye. His fingers play with his belt buckle and zip. But you’re distracted by his tongue rounding his mouth, collecting his own saliva. Looking into your eyes and then down at your cunt, Nanami pushes spit through his teeth, slowly letting it drop on your clit. He wants you to be a mess beneath him.
His length is pretty and smooth, curving upwards and pubes neatly trimmed back. The tip is flushed a deep pink. He pushes it through your folds, watching your face react as he rubs against your clit. Your lashes flutter, head tipping back as he plays.
Nanami is observing every twitch of your body, how you respond to him. Just at the moment you settle, his cock pushes deep into you in a swift snap of hips. It leaves you gasping for air and curling, the burn simmering to pleasure when he drags out of you. His movements are like everything else he does, well placed and precise.
They’re sharp and accurate thrusts into you, fingers digging into your hips to pull you back against him. He lets out delicious grunts, ones that make you feel gooey and warm for him. You’re giving him this pleasure, letting him use you to enjoy himself. In service to him and his pretty cock.
His tongue circles your nipples, sucks at the flesh of your chest, hoping to give you keepsakes of him for tomorrow. Your slick is probably coating his trousers, you worry, although all he can see is the beautiful circle of cream coating the base of his dick and smile. It makes him move deeper, hitting far inside you as you arch on his desk.
Pulling out briefly, he flips you. Nestling quickly back inside you, he hits a different spot as he gives shallow, quick thrusts. His nails drag down your spine, making you curve upwards. A hand wraps around your neck to bring you the rest of the way. The other moves to your clit, rubbing in quick and eager circles.
All taught against him, your pussy is tight, rhythmically squeezing his cock as he pants against your ear. His thumb and finger press against the sides of your neck just enough. You’re reminded of his control over everything from your job to how you come.
There’s a dizziness forming, and you’re trying to say please in a melodic repetition. You don’t even know what you’re begging for. His cum, your own orgasm, for him to treat you exactly as he wants as if he’s not already.
“You’ve been such a needy bitch, haven’t you?” he growls in your ear, hips still pummeling against your ass. “Or maybe whore is a better word.”
Making sure to gather your slick on his fingers, he mixes light pinches on your clit as he swipes. “Flashing yourself to me. Wanting to get- fu-fucked in front of the office.” Nanami can feel you tightening on his cock, interjecting his words with primal grunts. His tone remains condescending as he says, “you want me to fill you up, don’t you? Like the needy whore you are?”
His hand releases on your throat, letting the yes’s fall from your lips. “Yesyesyes. I ne- need you to. Pleasesirplease.”
You’re looking up at him, twisting yourself so you can see his penetrating gaze. His own eyes see you in your fucked out state, wet lips panting and begging for anything he says he wants from you. Your eyes are glossy, still with a sense of desperation to them.
Nanami pushes you back on the desk with his palm between your shoulder blades. Gripping onto your hip he pumps in and out, chasing his own release. You didn’t realise how tight you’d become, how close you were. His balls slap against your clit with each thrust and soon you’re falling off the edge.
You come hard, your cunt spasming around him and triggering his own orgasm. Nails dig into the hard oak of the table, trying to hold on to anything as Nanami empties himself inside you. White paints your pussy, as you can do nothing but moan and milk his cock.
He’s left leaning over you, pressing kisses into your neck and back. Feeling how you tighten and tense beneath him, your body trying to recover from its high.
Nanami helps dress you, gently pulling up your feet to slot panties beneath them. He brings your skirt back down and pats it in place. He gives you his blazer to hide your torn shirt, almost looking bashful about it, before it passes back into steely confidence. He kisses your cheek goodbye after making sure you’re okay and driving you home.
The next day, there’s a coffee and croissant on your desk and an ache between your legs.