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erisv7 · 16 hours ago

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✾ SERIES.

𝖬𝖸 𝖲𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖭 𝖡𝖮𝖸𝖥𝖱𝖨𝖤𝖭𝖣𝖲 || P1

✾ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ/s : ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛsᴜ ᴋᴀɪsᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✾ ᴘʟᴏᴛ : You dated several men at the same time, each seeing you as a tool for their own benefit. They manipulated you for their gain, knowing that as long as the money kept coming, your obsession with them would never fade.

The screen of your phone cast a dim glow on your face as you scrolled through the app—Girlfriend for Hire (GFH). The concept was simple: people could hire temporary girlfriends for dates, social events, or just companionship. It was all transactional. No strings attached.

And you? You were just here for the money.

You let out a small hum as you scrolled through requests, eyeing the most lucrative ones. Then, a particular name caught your attention: Nanami Kento.

A professor? That was rare. Most of your clients were businessmen, socialites, or the occasional celebrity. You clicked on his profile, curiosity piqued.

- Reason for hire: Workplace expectations

- Duration: Ongoing contract

- Conditions: No unnecessary public affection. Keep it professional.

A no-nonsense type. You smirked.

Interesting.

---

The first time you met him, it was at a quiet coffee shop near his university. He was punctual, arriving exactly at the agreed time. Dressed in a crisp suit with his blond hair neatly styled, he exuded an air of strict professionalism.

"You must be Nanami-san." You offered your hand with a practiced smile.

He hesitated briefly before shaking it. "Miss [Y/N]. Thank you for meeting me."

The handshake was firm but impersonal. You noted the way he observed you, as if assessing whether you were worth the investment.

"I like to set expectations early," he began, adjusting his cuffs. "This arrangement is not romantic. It is purely practical. My colleagues assume I have no social life. Having a girlfriend—real or otherwise—would put an end to unnecessary speculation."

You nodded, resting your chin on your hand. "Understood. And what exactly do you need from me? Dates? Dinners? Meeting colleagues?"

"All of the above," he confirmed. "But I have conditions. No excessive public displays of affection. No dramatics. And absolutely no real attachment."

You let out a soft chuckle. "You make it sound like I’d actually fall for you."

For the first time, a flicker of something crossed his face—amusement? Annoyance? You couldn't tell.

"People tend to blur the lines," he said simply. "I’d rather avoid complications."

---

Nanami was a man of structure. He set up a schedule for your meetings, sending you calendar invites like it was a business transaction.

At first, your outings were stiff, routine-like. You played your part well—attentive, supportive, but never too eager.

But then you started acting obsessed.

It started small. Lingering stares, soft sighs, subtle touches. You tilted your head whenever he spoke, smiling just a little too dreamily. You would occasionally mumble things under your breath like, "Nanami-kun, you’re so reliable… so strong…"

One evening, as you both sat in a quiet restaurant, you reached across the table, gently brushing your fingers against his wrist.

"Kento" you said softly, "I think about you all the time."

He froze mid-bite. Slowly, he set his utensils down, eyes narrowing slightly. "[Y/N]. This is a hired service."

You tilted your head, lips curling. "Is it? Because it doesn’t feel like that to me."

He exhaled sharply, as if composing himself. "I told you from the beginning—"

"I know," you interrupted, eyes shining. "But I can’t help it. You’re just… everything to me."

A muscle in his jaw twitched. He didn’t respond immediately, instead taking a slow sip of his drink.

You could tell he was trying to convince himself this was still just a business deal.

---

Nanami’s tolerance for your affection wavered over time. He never encouraged it, but he also never truly rejected it.

"You’re staring again," he muttered one afternoon as you sat in his office.

You rested your chin on your hands. "Can’t help it. You’re so handsome when you’re working."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "This wasn’t part of the agreement."

"Neither was taking me to that fancy gala last week," you pointed out. "Or calling me when you were sick."

He sighed. "That was for practical reasons."

"Mmhmm," you hummed, watching as his ears turned slightly pink.

---

Nanami took you to a formal gathering—some kind of graduation ceremony for his students. You had expected to stick by his side, but the moment you arrived, you were swarmed by his colleagues.

"Oh, so this is your girlfriend, Nanami?" one of them asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nanami gave a simple nod before immediately turning to discuss something with another professor, leaving you stranded.

You smiled politely, but as the minutes ticked by, frustration bubbled beneath the surface. The entire event felt like a dull networking meeting, with Nanami barely acknowledging your presence.

When you finally managed to catch his sleeve, he merely glanced at you. "I’ll find you later. Stay here."

And just like that, he was gone again.

All alone.

---

You simply stopped answering his calls.

You weren't doing it out of spite. You simply just found another boy-toy. Your contract was fulfilled. You had no reason to continue.

So, you blocked him.

For a while, nothing happened.

And then, the messages started.

Nanami: "You’re late. We had dinner planned."

Nanami: "I assume this is some sort of joke. Answer me."

Nanami: "Are you mad at me because I left you all alone?"

Nanami: "This is unprofessional."

A week passed. Then another.

One evening, as you left your apartment, you found him waiting near your building.

"You blocked me." His tone was calm, but there was something beneath it—something tight, controlled.

You smiled. "Didn’t you say no real attachment?"

His jaw clenched. "That was before."

You tilted your head. "Before what?"

He didn’t answer.

Because he didn’t know. Because somewhere along the way, he had blurred the lines himself.

And now, he realized too late—you were no longer playing the game.

---

The first time you saw his name on the GFF app, you almost thought it was a prank.

Gojo Satoru.

The strongest sorcerer in the modern era. The one people whispered about in awe and fear. What was someone like him doing on a girlfriend-for-hire app?

Curiosity got the better of you. You accepted the request.

---

Gojo wasn’t one to settle down. His entire clan knew that. But traditions weighed heavily on the Gojo name, and lately, the pressure to accept an arranged marriage had been suffocating him.

So, he came up with a plan. A fake girlfriend, someone convincing enough to make his elders believe he was already in a committed relationship.

That’s where you came in.

- REASON FOR HIRE: Arrange marriage contracts

- DURATION: Three months, or more.

- CONDITION: No attachments, I know you would probably fall in love with me. But I also need other women.

“That’s all I need. You play the role, and in return, you get the easiest paycheck of your life.”

You arched a brow. “And what exactly does ‘playing the role’ entail?”

“Attend events with me. Hold my hand. Gaze at me like I’m the only man in the world.” He replied to the call, voice dropping into something softer. “Make them believe I’m in love.”

“Anything else?”

He smirked. “Just don’t actually fall for me.”

You laughed. If only he knew.

---

The moment you walked into the café, he was already waiting for you, sunglasses perched on his nose, spinning his phone between his fingers.

Satoru: "You’re cuter than I thought."

Y/N: "You actually expected something?"

Satoru: "Touché. So, you ready to be the best fake girlfriend the Gojo clan has ever seen?"

Y/N: "Of course. But first, let’s talk boundaries."

Satoru: "Ooh, so professional. Alright, let’s hear it."

Y/N: "After the contract, you can't hire me again."

Satoru: "Boring, but fair. Anything else?"

Y/N: "I get full payment regardless of how things end. No cutting the contract short."

Satoru: "Fair, fair. And in return, you have to be convincing. The clan is annoying, but they’re not stupid."

Y/N: "Don’t worry, ‘Toru. I’ll make them believe you’re completely, hopelessly in love with me."

Satoru: "‘Toru?"

---

You didn’t expect the Gojo elders to actually like you.

You had assumed they would scoff at your presence, but instead, they welcomed you with open arms. They praised your manners, your background, your poise. You were the perfect choice.

Satoru: "You’re ruining my plan, you know."

Y/N: "How?"

Satoru: "They actually want me to marry you now. You’re supposed to be the worst."

Y/N: "Sorry, I can’t help being lovable."

Satoru: "I should’ve picked someone more scandalous."

Reader: "You love it."

And maybe, at some point, he actually did.

---

At first, you kept things professional. You played the role of a devoted girlfriend, the one Gojo’s clan would adore. You smiled at his elders, held his hand at gatherings, and laughed at his dumb jokes.

Then, you started acting obsessed. You just needed him to push you away so you can get to your next boy-toy.

You clung to him, whispered sweet nothings, sent long messages about how much you missed him. You looked at him like he was your whole world.

Satoru: "You’re really selling this, huh?"

Y/N: "Is it so wrong that I adore you, ‘Toru?"

Something flickered in his expression, but he smirked.

Satoru: "Not at all. In fact, I love it."

---

Gojo was never subtle about his flings.

He would leave you alone at events, winking at you before disappearing with a girl on his arm. He would make sure you saw the lipstick stains on his collar, the lingering perfumes that weren’t yours.

One evening, as you sat next to him at a gathering, he leaned down to whisper—

Satoru: "You’re not actually mad, are you?"

Y/N: "Why would I be?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I mean, we’re dating."

Y/N: "No, we’re pretending to date."

That was the first time he looked annoyed.

---

Gojo assumed you would always be around, looking at him with stars in your eyes. But then, you started pulling away. Your replies became shorter. The next time he texted to bring you to an event, you declined.

Satoru: "You busy?"

Y/N: "Yeah, I have plans."

Plans with another client. Someone who paid better.

And that was when Gojo started to notice.

---

At first, he laughed.

Satoru: "You’re just playing hard to get, aren’t you? Alright, I’ll bite. You win. Now come back."

Then, he got more desperate.

Satoru: "You’re not really mad, right? C’mon, I was just having fun."

Satoru: "Tell me you still love me."

Satoru: "Don’t ignore me."

By the end of the second week, his messages were erratic. Calls that went straight to voicemail. Texts left on read. He even tried tracking you down, but you had changed your routine.

And that’s when it hit him—

You weren’t coming back.

For the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru felt something he never had before. A gnawing, suffocating panic. Because you had been his, hadn’t you?

And yet, you were gone. Just like that.

But if he had anything to say about it…

You wouldn’t be gone for long.

The first time Y/N saw Geto Suguru’s name on the GFF app, she hesitated.

Unlike other clients, he wasn’t someone who needed a girlfriend in the traditional sense. He didn’t have a family pressuring him into an arranged marriage, nor did he need to convince colleagues he was taken.

So why did he hire her?

---

Suguru needed to maintain a certain image.

To his followers, he was their leader, their savior. But beneath that, there were whispers. Doubts. Some believed he had become too detached, too consumed by his hatred for non-sorcerers. If he wanted to maintain their faith in him, he had to show that he was still human. Capable of love.

“A girlfriend makes me seem more grounded,” he had explained over tea. “Less of a fanatic, more of a man with a vision.”

Y/N sipped her drink, meeting his gaze. “So, you want me to make you seem… normal?”

He smiled. “Something like that.”

---

They met at a quiet, traditional-style teahouse. He was polite, almost unsettlingly so, speaking in a calm, measured voice.

“You look more refined than I expected,” he noted.

“And you look less unhinged than I expected.”

Suguru chuckled. “I like you already.”

Y/N leaned forward. “So, what are the conditions?”

“Public appearances, mostly. Attend a few gatherings, meet some of my followers, make them believe I still care about trivial things like romance.”

“And in private?” she asked.

His smile didn’t waver. “No obligations, unless you want there to be.”

---

At first, their interactions were formal. He treated her with the same distant politeness he gave everyone. But after a few weeks, something shifted.

He started lingering after meetings, inviting her to private dinners. He listened intently when she spoke, his golden eyes never straying.

“You’re quite good at this,” he murmured one evening.

“Faking love?” she teased.

“No. Making me believe it’s real.”

---

You played the role perfectly. In public, you clung to him, whispered sweet nothings into his ear, looked at him as if he was your entire world.

His followers noticed. They began to believe it, murmuring among themselves about how their leader had finally found someone who could anchor him.

And Geto, against his better judgment, started to believe it too.

“Do you ever think about leaving?” he asked one night.

“Why would I?” Y/N smiled. “You’re perfect.”

His expression was unreadable. “...I see.”

---

He never saw the shift happening. Not until it was too late.

Your messages became less frequent. You stopped attending gatherings unless necessary. You no longer looked at him with that same breathless admiration.

“You’re distracted lately,” he remarked.

“I have other clients,” you replied simply.

He paused. “I see.”

For the first time, something unpleasant coiled in his chest. He had always known this was temporary. And yet—

Why did the thought of you leaving make his hands clench into fists?

---

One day, you simply stopped responding.

At first, he told himself it was fine. You had served her purpose. He no longer needed to prove himself to anyone.

But then the silence stretched on. Days turned into a week. Then two.

“Did I miscalculate?” he muttered to himself.

He reached out once. Then twice. By the third time, he realized you had blocked him.

And for the first time in years, Geto Suguru felt something dangerously close to desperation.

Because you had become a part of his image. His control.

And now, without warning, she was gone.

He exhaled slowly, eyes dark with something unreadable. “I underestimated you.”

But he knows, Y/N wouldn’t stay gone forever.

---

Come back for part 2! This is just an introduction to my new series.

ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛs : You know how there's some fan fictions on tiktok without part 2/or you have to pay to read it? I got inspired on one of them LOL.

@tinna.blue241 is the account! On tiktok

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chariaki · 3 days ago

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Rain, rain, don't go away.

Kento Nanami x reader

Dear Diary,

I always thought that being offered a jacket from a man when a lady is cold was sooooo cliché, and I admit, a little desperate. I am and will always be a responsible and independent woman, who is very much capable of warming myself up in the cold.

But then, today, as I was walking out of the library, there was a heavy rainfall outside. Much too my discontent, I didn't bring a jacket or an umbrella with me.

So much for being independent, i guess.

But out of nowehere, an acquaintance of mine, a handsome and kind Kento Nanami approached me from behind, and slipped his blazer over my shoulder.

Kento Nanami who hurriedly packed his things when he saw you leaving.

Kento Nanami, who noticed it was raining, and ran after you to give you his umbrella, or even, walk with you under it, he had hoped.

Kento Nanami who nervously searched his bag in a hurry to find his umbrella before you leave, but to his dismay, he realized he had left it at his front door.

Being too excited and preoccupied by his thoughts of you, to care about such trivial things.

I was aware he was studying in the same library, as we were in the same table, but I wasn't aware that'd he'd follow me on my way out, and of course, drape his blazer on my figure. I felt odd. A rush of blood went up my cheeks, butterflies in my stomach– the good kind– and, maybe falling in love?

Kento Nanami who learned from the obnoxious Gojo Satoru about giving a jacket to a lady in cold circumstances.

Kento Nanami who shared the same thoughts as you, thought it was cringey and didn't want to look weird in your eyes.

Kento Nanami whose thoughts were tangled between a nagging Satoru and a lovesick inner voice, finally gave in and shrugged off his blazer.

Kento Nanami, with trembling hands, flushed cheeks, and a racing heartbeat, nervously and ever so gently, placed his blazer atop your shoulders.

The blazer wasn't even that thick, nor did it provide much warmth, in fact, a shiver ran through my spine, and my tummy felt light. I now understand the rage and popularity of receiving a jacket in the cold.

It's romantic because it was gentle, his lingering perfume surrounded me, the details of how he is can be seen from his well-taken cared of blazer, and the sweet and silent gesture made it all so intimate.

Kento Nanami, whose eyes nervously darted everywhere but at you– who couldn’t help but stare wide-eyed with a mix of curiosity—and, perhaps, a hint of something more tender.

Kento Nanami who didn't want to delude himself into thinking, believing you were giving him heart eyes.

When in fact, you were.

The both of you were so caught up in the moment that neither of you noticed.

Kento Nanami who told you to wait for him inside the library as he ran in the rain to the nearest convenience store to buy the both of you umbrellas.

Kento Nanami who also used it as an excuse so you wouldn't see his flushed face, his own heart eyes, and the fluttering embarrassment he felt in that moment.

Unbeknownst to the frantic blonde gentleman, dear reader was standing in that spot for a while. Frozen in place, not literally, thanks to his blazer, but in an awful embrassment and an intense rush of feelings.

My heart pounded, my cheeks burned, and in an instant, my feelings for Kento Nanami grew even more.

With love,

Reader.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

Kento Nanami who bought only one big umbrella for the both of you.

And in the rain, walked two hopeless romantics huddled together beneath a single umbrella, blissfully unaware of each other's feelings. They walked in silence, the only sound they heard was the gentle patter of rain drops falling on their umbrella, and the pounding of their hearts, the warmth of their closeness melted away the chill.

Maybe not so hopeless, I suppose.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

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