#melsdrabbles

he walks into the café at exactly 3 p.m., crisp and punctual, ordering his regular like it’s muscle memory.

“meeting someone?” the barista asks, eyes sparkling.

“what makes you think that?”

“she got here first,” she says, offering his coffee and tilting her head toward you. “told me she was waiting for a mr. nanami. she looked… adorably nervous.”

he murmurs his thanks, turning to follow her gesture. the second he spots you, all poised and waiting for him, it hits him like a punch to the ribs.

you’re too absorbed in the sunlight streaming through the window to notice him. he watches you like it’s a private show - the delicate tilt of your cup, the way your eyes soften at the sight of families walking by the cafe. he’s captivated by how happy you are just watching them…and by how utterly unaware you are of his presence.

his eyes drink you in and just like that, he knows he’s so fucked.

so, so fucked.

he slowly approaches your table, clearing his throat when he’s close enough to signal your attention. your head snaps in his direction, your eyes wide in shock for a moment. you stand up quickly, holding out your hand.

“mr. nanami? it’s nice to meet you.”

the way your voice curves around his name sends a shiver straight through him. he wants to trace every line of your face, memorize the subtle way you tilt your head, but he forces himself to meet your eyes, his own sparkling with awe.

he doesn’t dare think about how your dress just barely touches your knees, or how the neckline of your dress dances that edge of scandalous and yet still conservative. he can’t think about that.

not now. not here.

not ever.

so he talks, long hours, his daughter’s quirks, the usual. you remain steady, but there is a spark in the way you watch him, like you are quietly enjoying seeing him struggle to keep his focus. the small gestures, the tilt of your head, the way your fingers move along the cup, and the quick flick of your eyes meeting his all draw his attention. he tries to focus, but the more he looks at you, the harder it becomes, and suddenly remembering what he was even saying feels completely impossible.

you talk about your experience like it comes naturally, explaining how you’ve handled every kind of family setup. it all looks effortless even though he can see a hint of nerves in the way you shift in your seat. your smile when you talk about the families you’ve cared for lights up your face and the way your eyes find his for a brief second makes his heart skip a damn beat.

“she’s just..” his words falter. “she’s just a little..different. or at least, that’s what others have said.”

“i like different,” you say softly, your eyes sparkling. “if everybody was the same, then life would be pretty boring, hmm?”

you continue through your resume and he tries—God, he tries—to follow the words spilling from your mouth, but fuck, he’s too busy obsessing over the way your lips curl around every letter like they’re made for him. his eyes fight to stay focused on yours, fight to not drift down to you plump, pink lips.

he knows if he even so much as glances down to them, his brain will completely cease to think professional thoughts. you don’t even realize when they do, and you don’t realize he’s completely zoned out now, not even hearing what you’re saying.

instead, he’s thinking about how your lips would feel against his, your shiny gloss coating them as he kisses you roughly. your hands moving to his hair as he holds you against him, small whimpers moving from your mouth to his. the smile that would grace his mouth when he feels your legs wrap around him, and the gasp that would fall from your lips as you felt his cock hardening in his slacks.

your dress would ride up your thighs as he held onto them tightly, making sure you don’t slip from his grasp. the outline of his length would slide against your pussy, your wetness seeping through not only your underwear, but his slacks. you would roll your hips against him, small whimpers escaping your lips as you felt that knot growing in the pit of your stomach.

“that’s it beautiful,” he would say in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “making both of us feel so good, hmm?”

“need m-more,” you would whine in response, your head spinning from the way the head of his cock rubs against your clit repeatedly.

he’s thinking about how good you would look splayed out on his bed naked, your curves fully on display for him. you would instinctively try to cover yourself up, embarrassed by your body under the weight of his stare.

“don’t do that,” he would say sharply, pulling your arms away from your chest. “dont ever hide from me.”

his lips trailing down your body would make you forget how insecure you were about your figure, his quiet praises about how gorgeous you were making you sigh in content. he would pause as his mouth hovered over your cunt, looking to you for permission.

you, of fucking course, would nod.

he’s thinking about how your hand would hold his hair as his tongue circled your clit. your head would fall back into his sheets as he feasted like a starving man, and your fingers would pull at his blonde strands. he would groan into your pussy, a sound that truly sounded like an animal feasting on his favorite meal.

“k-kento,” you would whine, your hips rolling against his face. “pl-please!”

he would slip a finger into your dripping cunt, hooking it just right to hit that spot that drives you insane. your legs would tremble around his head, that knot inside of you threatening to snap.

“let go,” he would groan, his eyes watching your facial expression. “let go for me, beautiful.”

and you would. the moment he tastes your sweet release, he knows he’s a man that truly ruined.

he’s thinking about the way his name would sound as it fell from your lips, begging him to fuck you harder, faster. he would feel the way you tighten around him, your legs trembling around him as you feel your release drawing closer. his hips driving his cock into you at such a pace that you can’t even form words properly anymore. just incoherent noises coming from your mouth that feels like it’s forced open. his fingers would find your clit, rubbing it just soft enough to give you that little bit you needed to let go.

your face would look absolutely ethereal as you cum around him. his name falling from your lips like a chant as he fucked you through your orgasm, not letting his pace falter for even a second. your eyes notice when his eyebrows scrunch together, and you know he’s about to follow right behind you. when you beg him to come inside of you, he lets go completely, groaning your name as your cunt milks him.

he’s thinking about the way your eyes would gloss over as you stared at the ceiling afterwards. he would grab a towel and clean you up, softly saying praises about how good you did for him. your sweet smile would add to your completely fucked out expression on your face courtesy of your boss.

the barista interrupts at one point, asking him if he would like a refill of his coffee - a normal occurrence. this snaps his attention from his filthy thoughts and he silently praises the barista for the interruption, hoping that moment helps him calm down.

it does - slightly.

the conversation between the two of you flows, and before you know it, he’s offering you the job. he slides a folder across the table toward you, and your fingers brush his as you reach for it. the touch is quick, but it makes him pause. a little jolt runs through him that has nothing to do with the paperwork. you glance up, catching his eyes for a beat, and there’s a quiet, shared smile in that brief contact.

he thinks he’s finally home free until you ask, soft and casual, “So… when do you want me to start?”

every part of him wants to say right now, right here. the spark from your touch is still buzzing through him, making it impossible to think straight. his chest feels tight, his brain is running in circles, and his mouth is refusing to work properly.

“uh… monday. 8 a.m. i’ll… i’ll send you the address.”

AAAAHHH MY FIRST JJK POST!! pls let me know if y’all enjoyed it aaaannnndddd i might post a part two?? love y’all! - mel

all works are my own. i please ask that you do not copy, or repost to any other sites.