ilonanan

you squirm in your seat, glaring at kenyu, who just offers you a picture-perfect smile. how does he still have his poker face on when he knows damn well what he’s doing to you?

when he knows that under your skirt, under your panties -

“hey.” karasu waves his hand in front of your face, a look of concern on his own. “ya holding up alright? yer a little… off t’day.”

“stomachache,” you grit out. otoya shoots you what might be a sympathetic look.

“had some dodgy seafood last night,” kenyu chimes in, and you clench your jaw at the sound of his voice. “she hasn’t been feeling well since.”

“go to the bathroom if ya need,” karasu advises gently. “we can order for ya.”

“that’s very - kind of you!” the last few words come out an octave higher as the vibrator buzzes against your clit, causing you to clench around nothing. you sit up ramrod straight, pressing your thighs together to quell the sensation, but it’s no use. how can you act like everything’s normal when you’re on the verge of climaxing?

kenyu acts like he’s none the wiser about what’s happening, and to your absolute horror, he opens the app controlling your vibe and turns the fucking intensity down, keeping the vibe on, then sets his phone face down on the table beside him.

“you sure?” he says, feigning concern as he places a large palm on your thigh, thumb brushing the soft skin there. “i can bring you, if you need -”

and you want to scream at him, or slap him or something, because to karasu and otoya, kenyu just seems like a loving boyfriend. but to you? oh, he’s your torturer. putting his hand on your thigh like that, so tantalisingly close to where your slick is pooling in your panties.

and it’s as if he can read your mind, because he’s sliding his palm up your thigh and under your skirt (you shiver at the feeling, melting into his touch), hooking his thumb under the waistband of your underwear, pushing the vibrator up against your clit, increasing the pressure in the process.

you inhale sharply, thighs inadvertently squeezing around his wrist as you scrabble at the tablecloth, pulling it over your lower half to make sure no one else in the restaurant sees.

“good girl,” he murmurs, and you think you might just die.

“will you relax a little for me, darling?” his fingers are already at the entrance of your soaked hole, collecting the slick there. and you nod, whining quietly, feeling him push in slowly. you bite your inner lip when he finds your g-spot within seconds, strumming your walls expertly with his deft fingers.

you glance over at karasu and otoya, breathing heavily for fear of being noticed, but they seem to be preoccupied with something on the latter’s phone.

“fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” you whimper, grabbing onto his forearm, and you’re sure you must look absolutely pathetic right now, looking up at him with big doe eyes, unable to say anything but his name. “kenyu- i -”

but the sly bastard is starting a conversation with his friends now, chatting and laughing and turning up the speed on your vibe as his fingers piston in and out of your leaking cunt, all with that winning smile on his face.

“and we saw it happen right in front of our eyes, and i told her, isn’t that going overboard just a little?” kenyu laughs now, his pace only quickening as you squeeze around his long fingers, his fingers that are currently your undoing. “i mean, it’s kind of unbecoming of young people nowadays to show such affection in public, right? he was practically devouring her face, wasn’t he?” he looks towards you, expectant of a response. “wasn’t he?”

yeah, as if you aren’t currently doing much worse in a public place, where we could be caught so easily -

“yeah, he was,” you breathe. “just - really goin’ to town on her, y’know.” karasu snorts.

“alright, alright, we know you two virgins would never do anything of the sort,” otoya deadpans, eliciting a snicker from karasu. “seriously, guys, you just gotta fuck already.”

oh, otoya, if only you knew… 

kenyu shakes his head in mock reproach, smiling softly as he bullies his fingers into your syrupy cunt. “don’t say such crude things in front of a lady, otoya,” he chides.

between the delicious stimulation from the vibrator, the press of his fingers against your spongy spot, and the knowledge that you might get caught at any moment - it’s all pushing you to the edge. too hard, too fast.

“ken,” you gasp, eyes pleading - though you don’t know what you’re pleading for, exactly. “i think i’m - m’gonna -”

and it’s at this point he leans down to whisper into your ear -

“cum for me, my good girl.”

and you do.

it’s like sparks dancing before your eyes as you gush around him, maybe better than most of the orgasms he’s previously given you, to your chagrin.

he pulls his fingers out of you slowly, and you know that under the tablecloth he’s spreading them, feeling your essence like sticky webs between them. and as sit there, catching your breath, and wonder how he’s going to explain the sticky mess on his fingers to his friends -

the bastard knocks his fork off the table with his elbow, and as he bends down to pick it up - and licks his fingers clean of your cum, not breaking eye contact with you.

you gulp hard, feeling heat pool in your stomach at the undeniably lewd sight. kenyu simply smiles serenely at you, straightening up with his fork in hand.

“right, shall we order?”

a/n: okay so what the fu-