#salaryman nanami kento

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Snapped

A/N: Ok, so, villain! Nanami isn't my cup of tea. For me, he's my comfort character, the one I go to at the end of the day for hugs and forehead kisses. However, as one of my moots said, with all the bullshit happening in my life at the moment regarding my job, Nanami would be so pissed off for me. Is this fic indulgent? Yes. And I don't care. However, it is my first time writing villain! Nanami and I'm not sure how well it's been portrayed. Pairing: Villain! Salaryman! Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader Warnings: MDNI, violence, gore, mentions of murder, death, general corporate shittiness Summary: In the midst of a layoff, your boyfriend Nanami snaps at his own office, leaving a bloody trail in his wake. Word Count: 2.7k

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Nanami’s jaw is tense, mouth set in a grim line as he exits his meeting. Another long day of listening to how the company’s profits didn’t meet the quarterly requirements, about how their stock value was plummeting, and how their finance experts must work harder at pushing their client portfolios into buying rather than selling.

He pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers, sighing, wondering how to combat this feeling churning in his stomach. The sense of repulsion, knowing what he did for a living, this constant hook behind his navel, yanking, pulling, warning him that all he was doing was making rich people richer, enabling a gluttonous corporate’s insatiable appetite for more money. 

He checks his schedule, a slight crack of relief filling his being when he sees it’s lunchtime and he exits his office, slumping against the elevator wall, running his hands through his hair. The sun shines brightly outside, indifferent to the gathering gloom inside him as he walks to a restaurant nearby. He gives his order and walks back to work, sandwich in hand when his phone rings.

Your name flashes on the screen and he answers quickly, hoping a quick chat with you would pull him out of this foul mood…only to be hit with your weepy voice, making his eyes widen.

“Ken. I-I.” Your breath hitches and he quickly tries to calm you down. 

“Take a breath darling. Are you ok?” 

Your voice shudders as you continue. “I walked in today. Completely normal. Ready to take on the day. Except when I got to my office, our HR representative was waiting for me near the door. She led me into one of the huge conference rooms, the ones they save for guest visits and symposiums. There were like, at least 100 other people in there with me.” You pause to take a breath, tears leaking from your eyes, and continue.

“We were logged into a Zoom call and told by our CEO that the company’s profits were not high enough to keep up with their budgets. They went on and on about all these different numbers but in the end, none of it mattered. They told us they had no choice but to do a layoff.”

Nanami’s heart tightens in his chest. Trying not to let his feelings seep through, he asks, “And then what happened?”

You sniffle and carry on with your tale. “The HR representative told us to open our work laptops and that we would receive an email officially notifying us of the termination. It came not less than a minute after we all logged in. I have two weeks left. They’ll pay me out for that time whether I go in or not. And after that…” Your voice trails off, tears choking your throat.

Nanami listens patiently, but there’s a quiet, simmering rage underneath. “They let you go?”

“Yes. Me and my whole team.”

“Even though you guys delivered on a project that brought in almost 2.5 million dollars in profit?”

“That’s what I thought too. HR insists it was arbitrary and that they were only retaining teams that they thought would maximize their profits. I guess 2.5 million dollars isn’t considered a profit.” You laugh, the noise filled with bitter irony. “I thought I was more valuable than that. 4 years at this place, Kento, 4 years! I could understand if I wasn’t meeting deadlines or refusing to be a team player-”

“You went in on Sunday for the last 6 months and no one said a word of appreciation to you.” The blond salaryman can’t keep out the bite of irritation in his voice, aimed not at you, but your employer. “When was the last time you slept in on a Sunday? When we were able to get brunch, or simply lie in bed together? They didn’t even compensate you for it.”

 You hear the harsh tone in his voice and sniffle. “I’m sorry Ken I-”

“No.” He cuts you off. “Don’t apologize. I’m not mad at you darling. Please understand that. I just hate that they used you and that didn’t matter to them when they chose to let you go.”

“I have some savings but... Kento, I don’t think I can afford my share of the expenses soon. Rent, utilities.” His heart almost breaks at your next words. “I understand if you don’t think we should continue living together under these circumstances.”

A lump forms in his throat, so painful, so intense, threatening to consume him like a tumor. You chose to follow him outside of the world of sorcery. You chose to study at the same college he did. You chose to get a corporate job despite the talent you had for jujutsu. You did it for him. He thinks back to the days of you sharing a college dorm, broke students picking up small jobs at cafes and delivering groceries. The ratty apartment you’d both found with your first paychecks, the celebration the both of you had in the cramped kitchen when both of you landed your first serious jobs. The move to the nicer neighborhood, with a coded entrance, toasting each other, thinking you’d made it.

Only to be worn down by corporate mundaneness. That chewing feeling of being a cog in a machine, a hamster on a wheel, ever-turning, never-ending, stuck until you die. Money. The big controller of the universe. The ultimate checkmate to everything. Money. Money. Money.

“No.” His voice is gentle. “Don’t even for a second think about moving out. I love you darling. You’ll find something else. I can tide us over till then. We’ll just cut back on some of our other expenses till then. Ok?” The thought of coming home to an empty apartment weighed down on him. Even back in the olden days, the dorm, the ratty studio that you’d both shared, you had always been there. The concept of living alone was long since driven out of him. The idea was unbearable, coming home and not seeing you there. 

Your eyes fill with tears. “I love you too. Thank you.”

“No need.” Kento’s gruff voice calms you and you cling to it like a prayer. 

“I have to go. I need to surrender my laptop and badge. I’ll see you at home, ok?”

“Yeah. Go ahead. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

The line disconnects, leaving him feeling strangely hollow. Companies really didn’t care. It was all bullshit propaganda, the act of ‘being a family’. You were just a collateral statistic. With a groan he forces himself back to his own office, his cubicle, the appeal of the sandwich lost to him now. He forced himself to eat, knowing there was another block of meetings coming up and there was no guarantee about when he could catch a break again. To his displeasure, he sees his manager walking hurriedly in his direction, and averts his gaze, hoping to finish his lunch, but to no avail. 

“Nanami-San!” The man unctuously calls, putting both his hands on Nanami’s shoulders, setting his teeth on edge. A manila envelope is tucked in his armpit as his fingers dig into Nanami’s blazer. He had spent a grueling two hours with this person in an earlier meeting, where he had praised Nanami for being able to sell one of their poorer-performing stocks, raising its portfolio value. The celebratory way it had been said as if Nanami hadn’t conned their clients into buying mediocre stocks which wouldn’t fetch them any benefit in the long run, made the bile rise in his throat. The contempt he holds for this man is tangible, yet he swallows his feelings and pretends to look calm.

“Yes?” he asks politely, trying not to squirm away from his touch.

“Nanani-San, I have news! Very good news for you. Please come with me.” He pulls him away into a private meeting room, Nanami dubiously taking a seat and looking at the man wearily. His manager sits down opposite him with barely contained glee, setting down the manila envelope on the table. 

“They want to promote you Nanami-San!” he bursts out, as though the energy of containing this information was eating at him from the inside. For a second, Nanami’s face goes blank. Then he realizes what he’s just been told.

“A promotion?” he asks again carefully. 

“YES! You’ve been killing it with your clients, raising our stock portfolios, and our profit margin! Hard work deserves to be rewarded!”

Despite his distaste for the man, Nanami blinks and then feels his heart expand. It wouldn’t matter if you were laid off, with the promotion. He could take care of both of you, and you could be peacefully at home while you job-hunted. You wouldn’t need to be in a rush, could maybe take some time to yourself…make up for all those Sundays you went in. A weary smile touches Nanami’s lips as he imagines the life he could provide for you. Could it be, that there was a lining after all?

He glances back at his manager, who appears to have more to say. “Was that all…?”

His manager gives him a nauseatingly saccharine smile, and Nanami feels the temporary prick of joy vanish. 

“Well, the position you’d be up for is more of a leadership position. The higher-ups want to make sure you’re a man capable of navigating difficult situations. Sometimes, things must be done, even when they’re unpleasant.” Nanami’s stomach is roiling, but he swallows and looks at his manager squarely in the face.

“What do you need me to do?” he manages to clip out.

His manager pushes the manila envelope towards him. Feeling like he’s been given a sentence, Nanami opens the envelope, and from it, removes three employee dossiers. He recognized the names as he looked through them, three young men who had started here around the same time he had.

“We’re going to need you to tell these three people that they’re fired.”

His manager’s words fall into Nanami’s ears deafeningly. Swallowing, he looks at the man with narrowed eyes. “I’m sorry but…why?”

“They’re underperforming.”

“Their numbers are consistent.”

“Consistent is not the same as moving up.”

“So you want to fire them because they’re not bringing in more money? Is that all?” Nanami drops the dossiers onto the table, an acrid taste building up in the back of his throat. 

“Well, you would be firing them. Think of it as their three salaries combining to equal your promotion.”

A chill washes over Nanami’s body. “I refuse.”

“Don’t you want the promotion?” his manager cajoles him, like trying to mollify a child with a lollipop.

“How about I get the promotion first, then you ask this of me?”

“Ah…if only the world worked that way. But no. We need them removed first. And since you will be taking over the department they will be leaving…you have to do it.”

Nanami looks at his manager, at this greasy, servile man, who he has hated ever since he started working here. His smug face, as he waited to see what he would do. He thinks back to you, let go for no other reason than “it’s what’s best for the company”. A red haze fills his vision.

“You’re despicable.” Nanami says quietly, his hand curling into a fist, feeling a tremor of cursed energy flowing into his arm, something he hadn’t succumbed to since leaving Jujutsu High. A turquoise aura begins to envelop him. His manager appeared to have not noticed but continued to give him that leery grin. 

“It’s your life versus theirs Nanami-San. I imagine a wise man would do what he’s being asked.”

Nanami stands, his impressive height and build towering over the man. 

“Fuck you.” 

The blond raises his hand, which is glowing with cursed energy now. His manager stares at it, taken aback. With a swift moment, Nanami’s ratio technique hits him, cleaving his body straight down the middle into two halves, grotesquely falling to the floor with a splat, blood spraying everywhere, covering the walls, windows, and the door of the meeting room.

A terrified scream is heard outside. In a daze, Nanami leaves the conference room, indifferent to his coworkers who are now gaping at him and scrambling to get out of his way, several of them shouting in panic at his state, his crisp suit spattered with fresh blood.

He walked into the conference room where he knew the higher-ups were sitting for their next meeting, locking the door as he did so. The men all move away in shock, a few even call his name, but he simply doesn’t care. The meeting room fills with the horrified sounds of men pleading and begging for their lives, and in a spray of red…silence. 

Nanami unfeelingly walks to his car afterward and drives home. Later when you open the door, you gasp and cover your mouth.

“Kento! Are you ok? Did you get into a fight?”

When he simply sits down on your living room sofa, you try again. “Kento what-”

“Grab me the whiskey bottle, would you darling? Don’t bother with a glass.” Dumbstruck, you obey, and retrieve the bottle from your liquor cabinet and hand it to him. He takes a deep swig before setting the bottle down. His sharp eyes, the same color as the alcohol in the bottle, fixate on you.

“We need to leave. Now.”

“Wh-Why- Kento I need an explanation!” You take in his bloody appearance. “What happened?”

“I could get into details. But simply put, I killed my manager and all the higher-ups at my company.” He watches you intently, his sweet, innocent girlfriend, who deserved more than what life had handed you. Your eyes widen.

“Kento- you- you murdered those men in cold blood?” your voice is a hushed whisper, as you look at the man you had spent the last several years with. Not a capricious person at all, so there was nothing that could convince you that Kento snapping like this was a coincidence.

“Darling. There’s no point sugar-coating things. Yes, I killed them. Now the question is, are you coming with me, or staying here?” There’s no malice in his voice. It was a genuine choice he was offering to you. The murders were his cross to bear, and it wasn’t right to involve you if you didn’t want to be.

You cover your face, trying to organize your thoughts, trying to get your breath to even out. Kento reaches out and pulls you closer to him, leaving bloody fingerprints on your clothes. “We don’t have much time my love. If we want to disappear, then we have to do it now.”

You look at him, then, to his disbelief, you ask, “Where would we go?”

He takes a shuddering breath, relieved that you were in this together. “It’s not the police we need to worry about right now. It’s the sorcerers who will undoubtedly put two and two together and realize I’m the culprit. However, I’m hardly the first sorcerer to do a revenge killing against civilians.”

“You’re not?”

“There’s an underground network of sorcerers who went off the grid for similar reasons. It’s seedy, but darling…we’d be free. None of this corporate bullshit, or punching in and out on a clock. We’d take jobs only we wanted to take. Freelance assassins, essentially. We deserve this. Life is full of shit anyway. Might as well pick what we want to do right?”

His words hit you with clarity, and despite all the suddenness and ups and downs in the last ten minutes, your resolve steels. “How long do we have?”

“Not too long. Pack a bag, essentials only. I only have a vague idea of how to contact this network but I’ll figure something out. Now quickly.”

It takes less than 10 minutes for you to pack a suitcase. Your boyfriend slips out of his blood-stained garments and into fresh clothes, hurriedly packing another suitcase alongside you. You glance around the apartment one last time, a wistful look in your eyes as you remember how hard the both of you had worked to get here.

But Nanami was right. It was all bullshit. You hadn’t chosen to stay with him out of blind loyalty, but because deep down, you knew he always had the right reasons. The both of you look at each other, a deep connection of understanding passing between you both, and with a resolute goodbye to the past, walk out of your front door together, unsure of what lay ahead. 

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[yuutaguro]

[villain!nanami AU]

“am i dreaming or is that you, Nanamin~?”

“yeah it’s me, don’t lose your mind (nanamin…?)”

[capricornlevi]

nsfw, mdni!!!!

your neighbour nanami, who's grown awfully tired of seeing you bring stranger after stranger into your apartment, the smug looks on their ungrateful faces as you tug them by the sleeve down your shared hallway. he shuts his own door behind him with a frown etched on his face and a familiar ache wracking through his body.

neighbour nanami, who is sick of seeing these strangers leave the following morning when he goes out to collect his coffee and the morning paper, shit-eating grins on their faces despite not earning any degree of self-satisfaction. your shared walls are thin, painfully so, and so nanami has first-hand evidence of their mediocrity.

neighbour nanami who has started to notice the way you brush up against him whenever you rush for the elevator at the same time; with him holding open the door, your lower back grazing against him slowly, deliberately as you duck under his arm. it could have been an accident at first, maybe clumsiness the second time, but he has since figured you out.

the way you fold your clothes in the laundry room when you know he's there: tiny dresses, lacy nightgowns that must cling to every curve, every piece of lingerie that he makes no effort to avoid staring at and you make no attempt to hide.

the way you've started to meet his eye when he sees you in the hallway bringing other people home. how you know he watches, daring him to make his move at last. letting him know his attempts to hide his jealousy have failed pathetically.

so when he shows up at your door late one night, his usually-tidy hair unkempt and tie undone around his neck, desperation emanating from him like a fever, you know you've won.

neighbour nanami who has no qualms in showing you how he can fuck better than any of the pathetic lowlives that never knew how good they had it. nanami who smiles as he puts his mouth everywhere that will elicit one of those pretty noises from your lips, who takes you against the shared wall between your apartment and his, just as he imagined all those nights with his cock in his own miserable hand.

this was a battle of wills he had no shame in losing.

[yuwuta]

PLS PLS PLSSSSS keep talking about kids with olympic athletes! gojo and nanami pls pls pls i have to Know. everything u wrote about yuuta was already so so cute

(prev olympics au here)

the gojo twins are hilarious because your baby boy looks exactly like satoru, but has very little of his personality—it seems like the only things he inherited was satoru’s love for sweets and love for you. still, even though he’s a strong swimmer, he much prefers to relax in his floaties alongside you if you’re also in the pool, or chill by your side on a lounge chair, glasses too big for his face keeping the sun out of his eyes as he shares his smoothie with you, and asks to borrow your phone to take pictures of his sister and daddy in the pool. 

your baby girl on the other hand… she might have your face but she’s got satoru’s everything else—his competitive streak, his confidence, and definitely his mischievous nature. she’s the one who tiptoes into your bedroom at five in the morning, tapping at her daddy’s shoulders, and putting her little finger over his lip to shush him before he can wake you up; she’s always the one to convince satoru to take her swimming the backyard at the crack of dawn, and why by the time you and your baby boy wake up, she and satoru are already past warm up laps and swimming lessons and onto who can make the splashiest canonball competitions (she always wins because while her tiny body can endure a belly flop, satoru’s years of training physically doesn’t allow him to do it… and maybe because he’s not so competitive when it comes to his baby girl, he’ll always let her win). 

kento’s professional judo career honestly doesn’t last very long. after his first olympic games, you two start dating and he proposes just after he wins gold the second time he’s in the olympics; he does maybe two more years of national competitions while you’re pregnant, and decides that the intense training for the next two years in preparation of a third olympic competition isn’t worth missing time he could spend with you or your baby girl—plus, with all the money he’s made from competitions, winning gold medals, brand ambassadorships, commercials, and collaborations, he had enough money to provide for all of your for the rest of your lives. so, that’s what he does (his dream has always been to be a househusband, anyway...) his previous salaryman career comes in handy when deciding how to invest his money, how to buy a house, how to take care of his friends, how to set up a fund for your daughter, and an extra account or two… just incase more babies come along… 

by the time your baby girl is four, she’s already kento’s biggest fan. she loudly and proudly proclaims to everybody that her daddy was basically superman and won all the shiny trophies and medals in the house from when he was being a superhero. if anyone recognizes kento when they’re out together, she always confirms their suspicions, proudly boasting, “yeah kento is my daddy! he’s a winner!” it always makes kento’s heart swell to hear her praise. he doesn’t compete professionally anymore, but he does train from time to time, and has taken on a few mentees, and your daughter LOVES to watch him coach/train. she’s got her own uniform that she always puts on whenever they go to the gym together, and gets so excited when kento or ino or yuuji pretend to spar with her. 

she’s honestly kento’s mini figure. she’s respectful and reserved, but strong and knows when to fight and how to use her voice. there’s a time when he gets a call from her school saying that she got in a fight, the principal frames it as your daughter needlessly pushing around an older kid, but your daughter is certain in her words when she tells her dad that it was because the kid was being mean to the younger kids, and to her. kento doesn’t say a word to the teachers—doesn’t even fight them sending her home early for the day, because he’s happy to scoop her up and take her out for ice cream and tell her that he’s proud of her.

[7-3-softie]

Coke in the Midas Touch

UPDATED: 10/1/24

This is my first ever attempt at writing for the JJK fandom, specifically for my favorite 7:3 ratio sorcerer, Nanami. So, I hope I did the character justice. (This is also my first attempt at writing smut after having many years of reading it, so please be nice).

Summary description: Nanami Kento, after having left the Jujutsu society in exchange for a normal job as a salaryman, encounters the new hire at work who slowly becomes the object of his affections the more that she becomes the office scapegoat; Villain!Nanami.

Disclaimer: Please keep in mind that I am not Japanese, nor am I an expert in Japanese work culture. So, if there are some things wrong, or inaccurately portrayed, I do apologize.

Content warning: use of Y/N, reader insert is afab and referred to as such, sexual themes, sex between characters, violence between characters, adults being overgrown children and should behave better at their grown ages but they don't, toxic work culture, pawa-hara culture.

WC: 12.7 K (it's a novel, I'm sorry)

Minors Do Not Interact

When Nanami Kento first laid eyes on her, he thought that she was unassuming. 

On her very first day of work, he remembers that she was stood at the front of the office with the associate manager of the sales department, making the standard introduction of any new hire.

“Hello! It’s a pleasure to meet you all! My name is Y/N! I will try to do my best! Please take care of me!” Which was then followed by a full 45 degree bow at the waist. 

He noted that her eyes were bright and filled with some semblance of hope. Nanami also cynically wondered how quick it would be for the corporate overlords, demanding deadlines, and lack of work-life balance to crush her spirit. 

He had only been at this company for the past two, almost three, years, but he was already jaded to begin with. 

She was assigned to be under his supervision for the training period, which Nanami found to be somewhat irritating. It wasn’t anything against her, he just knew that he wasn’t exactly the nicest person in the office, nor did he have the patience to deal with new hires. Somehow, they always ended up under his direct supervision for training purposes. Maybe it was his superior’s way of tormenting him given the fact that he refused to engage in the locker room talk that the male employees would have about the female staff or that he didn’t partake in the after work get-togethers at the local bars where they would all drink themselves silly. Or maybe it was his superior's way of letting him know that he was doing a “great job” by giving him more tasks, because they knew that they could count on Nanami to do proper work. 

Nanami would like to think that it was the latter. However, he knew better than that. 

“Your desk is located over here, by Nanami-san. He’ll be the one that will assist you with your orientation period.” She’s led over by the associate manager to the empty desk that sits beside Nanami. “If you have any questions, refer to him. He’s been at the company for the past several years and has done a fine job of it.”

Nanami gets up from his desk to greet them as they approach. “You speak too highly of me, Akiyama-buchou,” Nanami rebukes, attempting to remain humble. His eyes fall from associate manager Akiyama to the new hire. “Nanami Kento. Pleased to meet you.” He bows. 

She bows, holding a box of items. “Pleased to meet you!” her voice chipper.

“Now, before I leave, do you have any questions for me?” Akiyama asks her.

She shakes her head. “No, sir.”

“Alright, well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” He promptly turns away, heading to his desk that was sectioned off in his own private office, leaving both Nanami and the new hire.

Alone. Somewhat.

Together.

She turns to face Nanami, placing the box of personal belongings on her desk, a small smile still on her face. “So…what should we get started on first?” 

And thus, began a somewhat tentatively professional relationship between Nanami and the new hire. Every time she saw him first thing in the morning when the both of them were coming into the office, she would be quick to greet him with a cheerful: “Good morning, senpai!” that would be followed with vigorous waving. She always attempted to make conversation with him whenever she could, included him in small talk with other coworkers around the office, got him coffee whenever it was her turn to do the coffee runs even when he didn’t request anything or want anything in particular (and she wouldn’t allow him to pay her back for going out of her way). When the days would end, if she were to cross paths with Nanami while on they’re way out, she would give him that same vigorous wave while saying: “Have a good night, senpai! Get home safely!” 

Nanami wasn’t entirely too sure if she wanted something out of him or if she was just this nice all the time. Given, however, his previous experience with seeing the worst out of humanity and in the dealings of curses and cursed energy by proxy as a jujutsu sorcerer, could one really blame him? 

Then again. Would it be too terrible for him to consider that maybe, just maybe… that out of all the shitty people in this world… that there was at least one good person that existed to make up for it? 

Maybe he was getting ahead of himself.

~

“Good morning, senpai!” Nanami was greeted by her in the break room while he was getting a cup of coffee from the communal coffee machine. 

Nanami glances over his shoulder to look at her. “Good morning.” He keeps his responses short. 

There’s a small silence that follows between the two of them, the only sounds being the steady drip of the coffee machine and the whirring of the employee communal refrigerator. For Nanami, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was actually welcome. 

“Nanami-senpai.”

He turns to face her, holding the cup of coffee in his hand, staring at her quizzically. 

“There was talk…about wanting to go out after work for drinks, and I was wondering if-”

“No, thank you. I’m not interested.” Nanami’s response is immediate, as if he doesn’t have to think twice about it. He’s beyond accustomed to rejecting the offers to spend time with his co-workers outside of work. 

The next words die in her throat as soon as she hears Nanami’s dismissal. A sinking feeling of dejection fills her chest as Nanami rejects her offer, but she’s quick to push the feelings aside, trying to not let them deter her mood.  

“May I ask you something?” Nanami can sense the hesitancy in the question, almost as if she were afraid to ask it. 

“Sure.” 

“Forgive me if this is too forward, but why is it that you never care to partake in festivities outside of the professional setting? I mean, I’ve seen you reject offers from other colleagues around the office, higher-ups like Akiyama-buchou, and even offers from Fumiko-senpai! And she’s one of the prettiest women in the office!”

Nanami squints his eyes in confusion. “Wait, how did you hear about that?”

“She talked about it one morning while she was at the copier with Aiko-senpai. I was within earshot of their conversation. She seemed pretty upset by it.” 

I would have thought that she would have taken the hint by now, given the fact that this is the fourth time that she’s asked me out, and it’s my fourth time rejecting her, Nanami thought sullenly to himself. Nonetheless, he answers her question. “Listen to me, Y/N-chan, I’m not here to mix my personal life with my professional life. I’m simply here to clock in, do what’s expected of me for my role in this company, and clock out so I can earn enough money to make at least a decent living in this hellscape of a society. Nothing more, nothing less.”

She shrinks back just a tiny bit as he speaks, fearing that she may have crossed an unspoken boundary that he had set for himself.  She continues with her questioning. “And… What about what the superiors think? Doesn’t their opinion of you matter in the long run of your employment here? I mean… don’t you want to move up in the ranks?” 

“To be frank, I could care less about what they think. They already take up enough of my time here, they don’t need to take up anymore outside of my working hours. I hate overtime.” He turns to leave the break room, realizing how much time he’s wasted there in the breakroom, talking to her. He needs to get back to his desk.

“Nanami-senpai,” she says, almost bewildered. There was a hint of admiration behind it though. To her, he had a backbone that she could only dream of. 

He pauses at the door, his hand on the knob. He glances up at her over his shoulder, a somewhat cynical glint to his eyes. “To put it lightly, Y/N-chan, there are worse things out there than upset higher-ups simply because you told them ‘no’.” His mind flashes back to seeing the bodies of his dead friends on cold metal examination tables in the morgue room of Jujutsu Tech. The wails of curses and dying humans echo in his ears as he reminisces on his times as an up and coming Jujutsu sorcerer, but he doesn’t dare falter. 

She nods, her gaze landing on her hands that were intertwined together, digesting what he had to say. “I understand, senpai.”

There’s a pregnant pause before he faces the door again, his hand turning the knob on the door. 

“No… no, I don’t think you do, Y/N-chan.”

He opens the door to see Fumiko outside. He gives her a small polite smile and a nod before making his way around her to get back to his desk.  

Fumiko watches as he leaves, a look of longing on her face. She turns to look at Y/N and a surly look crosses her face. She enters the breakroom, heading to the coffee machine with an empty mug in her hands. 

The tension in the air was thick enough that either one of them could cut it with a knife. 

Fumiko didn’t say a word to her, but Y/N knew that in her heart of hearts that she’s done something terribly wrong to grossly piss one of her seniors off. 

~

At first, it started off small. 

Her orders were conveniently forgotten when the coffee runs or lunch runs were being made. Other office workers started to hand off their assignments to her, making her workload three times what it originally was supposed to be, making late nights a near constant for her. Anytime something went wrong in the office, to miniscule things like if if the copier ran out of ink and it wasn’t replaced as quickly as possible, to major things like if certain papers or documents weren’t delivered to another department in a timely manner, then she would be a scapegoat for the blame. 

She didn’t say a word about it to anyone, however. It’s not like she was in a position to be complaining about it. She knew that if she were to say anything, then she would be called “ungrateful”, “lazy”, and that “she should be lucky that any job decided to hire her on”.

Nanami noticed fairly quickly what was going on and found himself to be disgusted by the behavior of his co-workers. This wasn’t the first time that a stunt like this was pulled on the new hires. There was an old mentality that still existed of newcomers needing to “prove themselves” or “earn their place amongst their peers”. He honestly thought that this kind of stuff would have ended the moment that he graduated from secondary school and entered into the workforce, thinking that full fledged adults would learn how to properly behave and conduct themselves in a mature manner.

Needless to say, he was dead wrong about that. Some of them get even worse with old age. 

Though he's learned to separate his professional feelings from his personal feelings, it would be untruthful to say that the current behavior towards Y/N-chan didn’t bother him in the slightest. 

He minded. He minded a great deal, actually.

She was good. She was kind to others. She certainly didn’t deserve this kind of treatment. Frankly, no one ever deserved that kind of treatment no matter who they were. 

Nanami strolled into work bright and early one morning to find her hunched forward on her desk, completely passed out. He noted that there were papers that were scattered across the surface and that there was a pen still lodged in her hand. She must have spent the night here. 

He set his stuff down on his desk before turning to her and placing a hand on her shoulder to gently rock her awake. 

“Y/N-chan, you need to wake up,” he says softly. 

He goes to stand behind her chair and places his other hand on her forehead to help sit her up, hoping that the motion and change in position will help stir her awake. 

“Y/N-chan, Akiyama-buchou will be in shortly, you need to wake up so you don’t end up in trouble.”

There’s a solid minute that passes before Nanami hears a groggy: “Mmm… senpai?” 

He let out a chuckle before stepping back to sit at his desk. “Did you spend the night here last night?”  

“Mmhmm,” she yawned as she stretched out her arms well above her head and leaned up against her chair. “I had to finish up the final reports for the department quarterly review. They’re due at the end of this week.”

Nanami paused, then his eyes narrowed. “I thought that was Kakuta-san’s responsibility to take care of that,” he said, his voice a tad stern.

“Yeah, well… he asked me to do it.”

“He shouldn’t have.”

Y/N was silent for a moment before she started to organize the papers on her desk into a more orderly fashion. The next words come out small and downtrodden. “It’s not like I can say no to my superiors, Nanami-senpai.”

“Kakuta-san is not your superior, he’s your co-worker. He shouldn’t be passing off his assigned work tasks onto you. Matter of fact, none of these people in this office should be passing off their assigned tasks onto you.” He had a much more choice word to use for his colleagues but he bit his tongue. 

At this point, Nanami felt like he was scolding his own child rather than his junior.

You try telling them that, Y/N thought snidely to herself. She let his comments roll off her back. “Look, I’m almost finished with the report, senpai. It’s really not that big of a deal.” 

His gaze is hard. “You’re sure?” 

Y/N matches his demeanor, getting a little annoyed with his constant chastising. Her eyebrows slightly furrow as she sits up a tad taller, looking Nanami square in the eye. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me. I can handle it,” Y/N snaps. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work. I’ve already wasted enough time here.”

He watches as she busies herself with the paperwork on her desk, a sour taste remaining in his mouth, making him purse his lips together into a tight line. Nanami briskly turns away, not wanting to add further dissension to their discourse. 

~

Things went from bad to worse.

On the days that she was supposed to have off, she would be called into the office to work grueling hours, usually from seven in the morning until midnight, leaving her with little to no free time. Interactions with her co-workers and her superiors become more and more hostile. The shift of blame became a near constant everytime that she was in office, the accusations becoming increased in severity, some of which would have Akiyama-buchou scream at her in front of the entire office staff which, at times, would reduce her to tears. 

The mental and emotional stress was starting to take a physical toll on Y/N. The bags underneath her eyes were becoming darker, she had no appetite to eat anything, thus making some of her clothes start to fit a little looser. Her hair was starting to slowly come out in clumps and sleepless nights were starting to become the norm.

The anxiety and fear was starting to eat her alive, and Y/N was exhausted.

Nanami was silently noticing the events unfolding before him, and found the actions of his colleagues to be reprehensible. He’s grown to care for Y/N-chan. More than he would like to admit, but somehow she’s managed to worm her way into his heart. 

He tried finding little ways to combat the workplace harassment that Y/N-chan was facing. Tiny things, nothing too grand or extravagant that would draw attention. 

When Y/N-chan found herself swamped with work (realistically speaking, the work of others that they, continuously, passed onto her) and unable to leave her desk, not even to take a lunch break, Nanami would stop by the vending machines, leaving extra snacks on her desk when she wasn’t paying attention to the world around her. The mornings that he would find her passed out cold on her desk from pulling an all-nighter at the office, he would visit the little coffee shop across the street and “accidentally” order two cups of coffee instead of one. Just like the vending machine snacks, he would leave the cup at the corner of Y/N-chan’s desk for her to wake up to. When she would ask him about it, noticing that they were both from the same place, he would always say the same thing to her: “They accidentally gave me two. Rather than waste the extra on me, I figured that you would need it a bit more than I do.” which was then quickly followed by a “no, you don’t need to pay me back”. The times that Y/N would find herself alone in the office during the lunch breaks that the staff would take, Nanami would stay behind at his desk beside hers and silently eat his lunch. The days that he noticed she hadn’t brought any food with her, he would offer part of his lunch. It was second nature at this point, but she would always refuse, saying that she wasn’t hungry.

Whenever Y/N felt her emotions get the better of her, she would hide in the supply closet and take a moment to try and recollect herself. As a grounding point, she would try to think that her family and friends (what little she had of them) love and care about her, and other times, she would think of the small acts of kindness that Nanami would show towards her. 

She would be forever grateful for him. Even if she wouldn’t verbally say it out loud to him. 

At some point, though, the tension reached a head, and Nanami couldn’t idly stand by anymore. 

 One afternoon, Nanami was leaving a meeting room with the other department leaders when he heard a loud cry ring out in the office, ripping him out of his reverie. He whips his head up to see Y/N barge out of the staff break room and rush past him, tears welling up in her eyes, and a large brown stain covered the front of her white blouse that she was wearing. Alarmed, he watches as she runs to the women's restroom, the door slamming behind her. 

What caught his attention next was the sound of laughter that came from the break room. A sinking feeling of dread sat in his chest, before the subtle burn of anger began to ignite in his heart. 

His eyes narrow as he saunters towards the breakroom, finding both Fumiko and Aiko standing there, giddy as school girls. They became deers in the headlights as soon as they saw Nanami. 

He noticed that Fumiko was holding an empty mug with coffee dribbling down the side of it.

“I saw Y/N-chan run out of here. She seemed upset,” he muses. “What happened?” 

The two women stare at him like gaping fish, neither one of them saying a word. 

A beat of silence passes before he speaks again, his eyes locked onto them. “Something clearly happened.” 

The sound of the coffee machine brewing in the corner of the room catches his attention. Nanami glances at Fumiko and Aiko from the corner of his eyes, his gaze disapproving, before walking over to the coffee machine. The smell of a freshly brewed pot assaults his senses as he approaches. He raises a hand and gently presses two fingers to the side of the pot. 

It’s hot. Scalding hot, actually. 

“Judging by the behavior of you two, I’m going to assume that you intentionally spilled hot coffee on Y/N-chan’s front,” Nanami muses, as if he were speaking to himself. He turns to face them, leaning up against the counter. “Am I wrong?”

Silence. 

Nanami knows that neither Aiko or Fumiko don’t have to say anything to explain themselves. 

He lets out a loud sigh and raises a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “That’s what I thought.” 

After finally getting the answers that he needed, Nanami pushes off the counter, wasting no time to grab the first-aid kit as he exits the breakroom, heading towards the women's restroom.

Y/N is sitting on the toilet, her blouse pulled open as she applies wet tissues of toilet paper to the large burn on her chest in order to find some relief from the pain. 

She’s stopped crying, but now the feelings of embarrassment and shame are starting to set in.  

Leaning forward to hold her head in her hands with her elbows resting on her knees, all of the emotions that Y/N has been holding in for the past several months begins to boil over and comes to the forefront of her mind. The mistreatment from her colleagues and her superiors, the sleepless nights, the constant overtime (overtime that she was not adequately paid for, by the way), the endless workloads, etc. was laid out in front of her. 

Y/N never considered herself to be a downtrodden person, but having since been in this job, it was as if every single day she woke up with dread filling her chest. She tried to be a good sport about it, by trying to give herself some grace and the people that she worked with the benefit of doubt, and tried to rationalize their behaviors towards her. However, it was difficult to ignore the persistent hostility and how quick she was to be sold down the river whenever things went horribly wrong.

A lump rose in the back of her throat and tears began to well up in her eyes again. Her mind was beginning to create a snowball effect of everything that has happened ever since she started at this job. Her face crumbled, and the tears spilled over. 

A knock at the door brings her out of her mental turmoil. “Y/N-chan?” 

Nanami. 

“I have some burn ointment for you. I know it’s not much… but I hope that it will help with the pain.” 

Y/N grabs some extra toilet paper to wipe away at her face, and throws away the wet toilet paper that was stuck to her chest, before buttoning her blouse back up. She stands up and looks into the mirror, making sure that she was… somewhat presentable to her senpai. 

She cracks open the door and pokes her head out to see Nanami standing there with several packets of burn ointment presented in an open palm. 

“Thank you,” Y/N murmurs, reaching out to take the packets from him. 

“I’ll talk to Akiyama-buchou to see if you can get the rest of the day off,” Nanami says, letting his hand fall back to his side. “You clearly need it.” 

She looks up at him in worry. “N-no! That’s not-!” 

“Y/N-chan. You’re injured. You’re overworked. You need rest. I assure you that the office will not burn to the ground because you’re not in. I promise.” There was a tone of finality to his words. It was clear that there was no room for argument with him as Nanami had clearly made up his mind. 

A passive look forms on Y/N’s features before she nods once and disappears back into the restroom. 

What follows next are tense interactions and conversations had with others around the office as Nanami forcibly returned work assignments to those that had pawned off their work to Y/N. Those that protested were quickly met with an icy glare that shut them up immediately. 

The conversation with Akiyama left Nanami in a rather foul mood than he already was.

He straight up laughed in Nanami’s face when he said that Y/N would be taking the rest of the day off. 

“You can’t be serious! Since when do you actually give a shit about that little brat?” he guffaws. He looks like he’s about to start crying from laughing as if he’s been told the funniest joke in his life. 

Nanami doesn’t falter. His gaze is as hard as stone as he stoically answers, “The same way in which you fail to do your due diligence as a member of upper level management to ensure that the work environment that you create isn’t a hostile one. You’ve got the vindictiveness of a fourteen year old child. You’re pathetic, really.” 

Akiyama’s smug look quickly fades as Nanami speaks his piece, his face turning into a shade of dark red from being flustered and embarassed. 

Nanami has held in his emotions for the entirety of his professional career, but now he could give a damn. The floodgates have opened and now he’s speaking his mind. 

“Now, listen here-”

“Frankly, I don’t care what you have to say. You’re the most incompetent man that I’ve ever encountered and I’ve seen a fair amount of them. The immaturity, the lack of consideration on both a professional and personal level, the harassment that you feed your employees if they don’t meet your standards by even the most minute level. It’s despicable.”

“Nanami Kento-!”

“You’ve lost my respect… though, I never really had that much respect to give you in the first place.” 

The weight lifts off of his shoulders as he finishes speaking, though, the responsibility of getting you home safe and sound is still on his mind. 

“I’ll be escorting her home. Don’t expect to see me the rest of the day.”

“Nanami-!”

He briskly turns away before Akiyama can say anything to him, leaving the office and letting the door slam behind him. He stops by Y/N’s desk, gathering all of her belongings and putting them in her bag that hung on the back of her chair. 

“Y/N-chan? Are you ready?” Nanami asks, standing outside of the women's restroom.

“Um… I don’t think I’m really…presentable to leave the restroom…”

She poked her head out again, Nanami catching some glimpses of her white blouse with the large coffee stain on it. She looks a bit more put together, the puffiness in her face has somewhat dwindled.

Nanami pauses, before setting down both his and her items and shrugging out of his suit jacket. He gently nudges the door open a bit wider with his foot so they’re both face to face with each other as he tenderly places his suit jacket over Y/N’s shoulders, giving her a bit more coverage and allowing her to pull the sides of the jacket over the gigantic brown stain. 

A blush began to creep over her cheeks as she dropped her gaze from his, suddenly feeling bashful. 

“Thank you.” 

The two of them left, feeling all the eyes of the office workers on them as they departed. Akiyama came barging out of his office, screaming at the top of his lungs at their backsides.

Y/N startles, going to look over her shoulder at him, but Nanami stops her by putting an arm around her shoulders, forcing her to look forward. 

For the remainder of their trip back to Y/N’s apartment, he doesn’t remove his arm from around her shoulders. Nanami doesn’t know why he didn’t want to remove it from around her. Not a word is spoken between them… but for the both of them, it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

They were given strange looks by onlookers on the streets of Tokyo, but the pair were somewhat comfortable in their own little world. 

“You didn’t… have to do this, you know?” Y/N shyly says, risking a glance at him from the corner of her eyes. They’re now on the train, moving from the district of Shinjuku to Koto, where Y/N’s apartment was located. 

“I know I didn’t,” Nanami responds, looking down to meet her gaze. “I wanted to.” 

After some time, they eventually reach their desired train station in Koto. From there on, it’s a twenty minute walk to the apartment. 

“Will you come inside? I feel like I should make you a cup of tea or something…” Y/N says, shrugging off Nanami’s suit jacket to give back to him as they stand in front of the entrance to Y/N’s apartment.  

“That’s not necessary, Y/N-chan-”

“Please? It’s the least I can do. Especially after everything that you’ve done for me.” 

He ponders on it, before giving her a single nod with a small smile starting to grace his features. “If you insist, I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm. A cup of tea made by you sounds lovely.” 

She gives him a wide smile as she fishes into her purse to find her keys to let them into the apartment.

It was tiny, but that was to be expected. Slightly messy with various items strewn around the den and the kitchen areas, but nothing too egregious that Nanami couldn’t overlook. 

“I’ll put the kettle on if you’d like to have a seat. I’ll just be a moment,” Y/N says as she shuffles out of her high heels in the entryway. Trying to be sly, she immediately picks up the discarded clothes so that Nanami wouldn’t notice as she retreats into her bedroom so she can change out of the stained blouse and into a clean shirt. In a quick glance in a mirror that she has in her bedroom, she sees a rather large, angry red patch mark her chest where the coffee branded her. 

A flash of humiliation strikes through her core, but Y/N does her best to not dwell on it. Even if her chest is still throbbing from her injury, regardless of the ointment that Nanami was so kind to give to her. 

Nanami silently makes his way to the den and sits at the kotatsu table in the center of the room, letting the futon cover his lap, waiting patiently for Y/N to exit her room. 

She comes out of the bedroom, changed into a fresh set of casual clothes, and wastes no time getting started on the tea that she promised Nanami.

“I hope you don’t mind my appearance,” Y/N calls out, glancing over her shoulder to look at him. “I don’t think I could stand to be in that stained blouse another minute.” 

“Please don’t think I’m offended, Y/N-chan, I’m a guest in your home. I’d rather you be comfortable.”

Y/N gives him a toothy smile as she fills up the electric kettle with water. 

“I have sencha tea. Is that okay with you?” 

A singular nod. “Yes, that sounds lovely.”

To Y/N, it felt strange to have her senpai in her home, sitting at her little kotatsu table that he seemed rather too large for. She stole a look at him while he wasn’t paying attention and fought back a giggle, thinking of him as a bull in a china shop in her microscopic apartment. 

From the corner of his eye, Nanami noticed a pile of vinyl records leaned up against a record player. 

“Do you listen to vinyl, Y/N-chan?”

“I do, actually. I enjoy collecting records whenever I can.”

“Any particular genre?” 

“Hmm…my father was always big on music from the 50’s and the 60’s. I remember listening to a lot of cassette tapes and vinyls from those eras. He said that there was a certain romantic aspect that just couldn’t be replicated in today’s music.” Y/N comes into the den with two steaming mugs of tea, setting them both down onto the kotatsu. “However, he could be just a bit biased because that’s the music that he grew up on.” 

Nanami chuckles. “Just a bit. Thank you for the tea and hospitality, by the way, Y/N-chan. You didn’t have to do this.” He gently grips the handle of the mug and brings it to his lips, taking in a small sip. 

Y/N softly sighs, letting her shoulders slump the tiniest degree. “I felt like I needed to.” 

“Y/N-chan-”

“Senpai, I just…” She starts to wring her hands in front of her, suddenly nervous. “I just wanted to show my appreciation for all that you did for me when I was struggling. The snacks and coffees that you would leave at my desk, offering to share part of your lunch with me… All sorts of things that you went out of your way to do for me, when you really had nothing to gain from it. I don’t know why you did it to begin with, but… I’ll be forever thankful to you that you did.” 

Seeing her be so open and candid with everything that had happened within the past several months, made Nanami reminisce on his old secondary school classmate, Yu Haibara. Perhaps that’s why he had such a fondness for Y/N. She shared a lot of characteristics that Haibara had.

Happiness. Genuine kindness. A fondness for life and living. 

Maybe that’s why Nanami was doing his damndest to try and help her.

Protect her. 

In a way that he wasn’t able to do for Haibara. 

Y/N notices Nanami’s silent reverie. “What are you thinking about?” 

“Hm? Oh… nothing in particular.”

Unconvinced, she prods a tiny bit more. “Are you sure? You look like you’re deep in thought about something.”

Nanami quickly changes the subject. “How’s your burn doing? It’s not hurting you too much, is it?”

At the mention of her injury, a flare of a dull ache makes its way to the front of her mind. She brings a hand up to her chest to rub at it. 

“It’s manageable.” 

He gives her a knowing look before getting up from the kotatsu and goes into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of paper towels and running them under cold water.

“Here, this should help.” He offers her the wet paper towels, but she simply stares at his hand. 

Y/N glances at his hand and back up to his face, before she reaches out to grip his wrist and uses his arm as leverage to pull herself up into a standing position. She doesn’t let go of his wrist.

“I hope… that you’ll allow me to thank you. Properly,” Y/N says, peering up at Nanami, a certain… emotion displayed that he wasn’t able to place his finger on. She takes a step closer to him, decreasing the distance between them. 

All Nanami could focus on in that moment was the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears and the sudden warmth that flushed into his cheeks, all of which led to one question in his mind: Where was she going with this?

“Seeing as how we’re being personal and open with one another, would it be silly of me to admit I sort of… developed a little bit of a crush on you?” Her eyes drift down from his for a moment, maybe due to embarrassment, before raising her eyes to meet his, a slight blush starting to color her cheeks. “I didn’t want to say anything at first, especially considering how you always preached about how you always separated your personal life with your professional life… but now feels like a good time to come clean.” She reaches up and gently places a hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth that his skin offered as her thumb tenderly stroked his cheekbone. 

Nanami’s heart feels like it's in his throat, unintentionally tensing up at the feeling of her hand on the side of his face. “Y/N-chan.” 

Why was he so nervous all of a sudden? This wasn’t the first time that a woman tried to be physically close to him, and all those other times he was able to gently reject their advances with ease. 

Why was Y/N suddenly the exception to this rule? 

“Are you… uncomfortable with this?” she asks, unable to gauge his current state of mind due to his stunned silence. The last thing that Y/N wanted to do was encroach on his boundaries. 

Nanami remains silent, his eyes still locked onto her face. 

Y/N takes that as a sign to halt her advances. She begins to pull away.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward-” she begins to apologize, but finds herself cut short by the feeling of another mouth covering hers. 

Nanami, finally snapping out of his trance, allows himself to feel something for the first time in a long time. Gripping both sides of her face, he bends down and pulls her into a rather heated kiss, their teeth accidentally clacking against each other from the force of impact. 

Y/N, startled at first, melts into the kiss, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to try and pull him closer to her, his hands sliding from her cheeks to thread his fingers through her hair, allowing him just a bit more grip on her. Y/N’s chest aches at her burn site at the friction of Nanami’s body against hers, but she could care less about it in the current moment. 

With her lungs screaming for oxygen, she pulls away, gasping. “Nanami-senpai!”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” he gasps out, trying to catch his breath. 

“Don’t be.”

They remain still for a moment, just taking in their presence. 

Nanami leans down to press his forehead against Y/N’s, closing his eyes. “It’s no secret that I’ve come to care for you, Y/N-chan. Perhaps, a bit more than I initially let on.” 

A breathy chuckle escapes from her. “Is that so?” 

He gives a small nod, a gentle smile forming on his face. “Yes.”

One of his hands, still entangled in her hair, falls from her head to softly grip the side of her neck, his thumb gently rubbing alongside her jawline. 

“I should have asked you this properly, before I got physical with you,” Nanami whispers. “Is this something that you would want to pursue, Y/N-chan? A relationship… with me?” 

A slight pause as Y/N digests his proposal, before she smiles and nods. “If you’ll have me.”

“I’ll always have you, so long as you put up with me and my broody behavior.” 

“You’re not broody.” She reaches up to softly push back several strands of hair that had fallen in his eyes. “Matter of fact, I find you to be very kind and considerate. I have all of the ‘extra coffees’ and vending machine snacks to thank you for.”

Y/N grabs at the hand that’s on the side of her neck and guides it down so that Nanami is now cupping one of her breasts through her shirt. She glances up at him, sucking in her bottom lip between her teeth, waiting to see what his next move will be. 

Filled with new found lust, and a rush of heat down to his groin, Nanami closes the gap between the two of them, pressing his lips to hers once more, allowing his tongue to slip past his lips and into her mouth, massaging hers with his own. There’s urgency to their motions now, their exhaled breaths coming out much harsher and heavier than before. 

Nanami’s hands slip underneath her shirt to fully cup her breasts, allowing him to roll her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. 

Y/N lets out a little squeak at the sensation, but takes it all in stride. She grabs at his clothes, attempting to undo his tie and the buttons to his shirt, but struggles at the Windsor knot on his tie, unsure how to loosen it. Nanami, lost in the moment, comes to at the sensation of her prying hands and quickly undoes his two piece suit at a much faster rate than Y/N ever could, stripping down to be completely bare and vulnerable in front of her. 

Y/N truly began to appreciate what a fine specimen Nanami was. He’s toned. He’s muscular. He’s built like a Greek god, if she was being totally honest with herself. 

She looks down at Nanami’s cock, sucking in a sharp breath when she notices how girthy it was. It wasn’t fully erect, but Y/N remembers some of her old friends from university going on about how some men are “growers”. Their words, not hers. 

“Can…can I?” she stutters out, her eyes locked onto his growing erection. 

“God, yes, please.”

She sinks to her knees in front of him, coming face to face with his cock. The sight alone makes Nanami’s respiration become labored. 

With gentle hands, she reaches out and grasps him at the base and points him upright. Her eyes glance up at him, trying to gauge his reaction, before pressing a kiss to the head. One hand goes to stroke the length as the other falls to massage his testicles. With a deep breath, and a whole lot of fraudulent courage, she sinks her head onto him, trying to take him in as much as she could without activating her gag reflex. 

“Y/N-chan…” Nanami gasps out, the warm, wet sensation of her mouth sending shockwaves through his core. His hands twitch by his sides, wanting to bury his fingers into the crown of her head, but he restrains himself, not wanting to rush her into things. 

Slowly, Y/N finds her rhythm. She begins to bob her head up and down his length with added vigor, her hand stroking the parts that her mouth cannot reach. Saliva begins to dribble from her mouth and down her chin, the more that she bobs her head. The sound of squelching fills the room as Y/N continues her assault on Nanami. 

Nanami’s head had fallen back and his eyes were closed in ecstasy. “Fuck, Y/N-chan,” he gasps out, foregoing his original plan of self control and reaching one of his hands to grasp at the back of Y/N’s head, desperate to try and hold onto something. He begins to move his hips, just enough to thrust forward to meet her mouth. Through heavy-lidded eyes, he tilts head forward to look down at Y/N to see her eyes locked onto his face as she persisted with her movements. She pulls off his length, but with the tip still in her mouth, she wraps her tongue around the tip and simply sucks. 

Nanami’s vision goes white for just a moment, and he swears that he had died and gone to heaven in that second. 

Y/N pops off his member, strings of saliva attaching from her mouth to Nanami, gasping for breath. He stands fully erect now, his cock now slapping against his abdomen the moment that Y/N lets go of him, and the tip begins to ooze with pre-ejaculate. She offers him a cheeky smile, meeting his wanton gaze with playfulness. “Is this to your liking, Nanami Kento?”

She leans forward and suckles one of his testicles into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his face. Something inside Nanami snaps, and he can no longer hold himself back anymore. 

“You little minx,” he rasps out, reaching down to push her shoulders back, putting some distance between the two of them. He pulls her up into a standing position, before reaching down to grasp at her hips. He pulls her into a feverish kiss, his lips entangling with hers. He lifts her up into the air, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist, giving him the freedom to blindly make his way from her living room to her bedroom. He gently sets her down on the edge of the bed, pulling away from the kiss. 

“Can I take your clothes off, Y/N-chan?” His hands grab at the hem of her shirt, waiting for her approval to do so. 

She nods, lifting her arms up over her head, making it easier for Nanami to pull her shirt off, leaving her bare-chested in front of him. The cool air hits her skin, making goosebumps start to rise throughout her trunk. 

Nanami takes in everything that she has to offer. Every curve, contour, stretch mark, including the large burn on her chest. A flash of anger flares up in his chest at the sight of it, but he does his best to extinguish it. He doesn’t want to sour the mood with a foul mood. 

Feeling his eyes on her, Y/N can’t help but become self conscious in his observant gaze as she instinctively raises her arms to cover her chest to make herself as small as possible. Nanami, however, notices her attempts to cover herself up and catches both of her wrists in his large hands, stopping her from doing so.

“Stop. You don’t need to hide yourself in front of me,” he says, nearly chastising her as he forces her arms back down to their sides. “I want to see all of you, as you have seen all of me.” He sinks to his knees in front of her and leans forward to press gentle kisses to her chest, making sure to linger his lips on her injury. “Will you allow me to make you feel good, Y/N-chan?” he asks, peering up at her with tender eyes. 

Y/N gives him a soft smile, threading her fingers through his hair. “I’d like that.” 

He returns the smile, before he presses his lips to hers once again, only this time it’s not as rushed and frenzied as before. It’s slow and reposeful, as if they don’t want to rush the moment to its end. 

Nanami, still on his knees, reaches up with both hands to cup her jaw, his thumbs smoothing at her cheek bones as he continues to kiss her. He begins to gently guide her back further onto the mattress, allowing her to lay down and for him more room to explore her body. He lets his hands trail from the sides of her face down to the hems of both the bottoms that she was wearing and her underwear. He pulls away just a fraction of an inch from her lips, looking into her eyes as he gets more of a hold on the clothing, silently asking her permission to remove the rest of her clothes.

Y/N instinctually lifts her hips up, giving Nanami the freedom to remove the rest of the barriers, leaving her totally bare in front of him. 

He sits between her legs, his eyes narrowing down on her center, before glancing back up to meet her gaze. “May I taste you?”

She nods, watching with heavy anticipation as he changes position so that he’s now flat on his stomach, now faced with the most intimate part of Y/N. It wasn’t an understatement to say that she was incredibly nervous. It had been some time since she last had sex with another man. 

Noting her silence and her tense position, Nanami asks her, “Are you alright?” 

His question pulls her out of her silent dilemma, realizing that he was locked in on her face.

She nods, not trusting her voice right now.

His eyes are quizzical, but he doesn’t push it any further. “You’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable, yeah?” 

She nods again.

“I think I’m gonna need a little more confirmation than that, Y/N-chan. I need you to actually say something.” 

A flush of heat makes its way towards her core at his command, arousing her a bit more than she would like to admit. “I… yes. I promise I’ll say something,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. 

He gives her a smirk. “Good girl.”

He hooks his arms around her thighs, pulling her closer to him, his face now just mere nanometers away from her center. Maintaining eye contact with her, he flattens his tongue on her clit, massaging it with smooth, languid strokes. 

Y/N lets out a gasp at the sensation of his tongue on her, her head falling backwards on the pillow, letting the pleasure build from her core and flow throughout her body. 

Nanami starts out slow, letting her adjust to the stimulation before he begins to flick her clit at a rapid pace, trying to build on her satisfaction. His eyes never leave her face as he continues with his movements. Reaching further around, he uses his hands to spread her lips wide open and sucks her clit between his lips.

“My god, Nana-mi-senpai,” she moans, her toes curling at the feeling of him sucking her in. Unable to make sense of what to do with herself, her hands fly to her chest grabbing at her breasts. She begins to pant now, the pleasure beginning to build upon itself as Nanami’s tongue continues to ravish her. The waves are crashing over each other now, and the familiar coil within Y/N’s abdomen starts to tighten, alerting her of her impending orgasm. 

Switching tactics, Nanami diverts his attention to her opening. Replacing his tongue with this thumb on her clit, he gently prods his tongue through, thrusting it in and out.

“Nanami!” Y/N cries out, jerking at the sensation. She squirms and twists at his ministrations, unable to maintain her composure anymore, before he uses his other hand to flatten it on her abdomen, in an effort to hold her still. She glances down at him to see his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his fingers splayed out on her abdomen, a warning look in his eyes, as if to say don’t move. He brings his mouth back up to her clit and presses a single kiss to the sensitive nub before, for lack of a better word, devouring her. He engulfs her entire clit into his mouth before suckling on it and his tongue furiously stroking her, trying to fully push her over the edge and bring her to orgasm. 

The coil within Y/N tightens further and further the more Nanami’s mouth works her, the pressure within herself mounting to an almost uncomfortable point. Her hands fly down to grab at Nanami’s hair, desperately trying to anchor herself to something, but she’s quickly getting swept up into shockwaves of ecstasy. 

With one final suck, the coil snaps and Y/N is rendered completely helpless as her orgasm comes crashing over her in waves. She lets out a loud cry as her abdomen clamps down on itself, her body shaking with each pulse of her core, her hands becoming a vice grip in his hair. 

Nanami’s moans at the feeling of her hands in his hair, releasing her core free from the confines of his lips, panting out several breaths before going in with his tongue again to lap at her release. Y/N jerks at the sensation, slowly becoming overwhelmed with the constant stimulation.

As Y/N comes down from her high, she looks down to Nanami giving him a weak, breathy chuckle, gently untangling her fingers from his hair. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

He leans away from her, flashing her a relaxed grin. He kisses his way up her abdomen, gently pressing his lips to her skin as he makes his way to her face. Once he reaches his intended destination, he captures her lips into an all-consuming kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist in an effort to pull her as close to him as humanly possible. In response, her legs go to encircle his hips, pressing her lubricated center to his leaking cock. 

Nanami lets out a hiss at the contact, a flash of pleasure striking through him, making him almost recoil from Y/N’s body. 

She looks at him, concerned. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes, I just… I’m a little more sensitive than I initially thought,” he reassures, leaning up to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“Well… I’m yours for the taking.” She spreads her legs open, sending the message to him wide and clear. 

A sinking realization dawns on Nanami as he looks down at his bare self, now just coming to terms that he’s missing a very key component to this whole encounter. “Y/N-chan, I… I’m sorry, but I don’t have any protection on me,” he whispers. “I don’t want to end this moment with you… but I don’t want to risk you getting pregnant for my own selfish desires, either.” 

Y/N props herself up on her elbows, leaning over to the nightstand beside the bed and opens the drawer, pulling out several packages of condoms, making Nanami do a double-take. “An old friend of mine from university gave them to me as a gag gift for my birthday before I started to work at the office. I really haven’t had the opportunity to use them… well, up until now at least,” she explains, a bit of a sheepish grin gracing her face as she hands them to Nanami.

“Some friends you have,” he says, ripping a package open, grabbing the plastic wrapping before placing it on his tip and rolling it down his length. He doesn’t question it, he’s just thankful that he doesn’t have to stop. He positions himself between Y/N’s legs, sitting back on his haunches, as he grabs hold of his length and guides his tip to her slit. “Are you ready for me, Y/N-chan?” 

She inhales a deep breath. “Yes. I’m ready, Nanami-senpai.”

He lets out a chuckle. “Kento.” 

“Hmm?” She looks at him, confused.

“I think we’re way beyond the point of just acknowledging each other by our surnames, Y/N-chan. All things considered.” 

“I suppose you’re right… Kento.” 

With one hand, grabs hold of her hip, while with the other, he slowly guides his tip into her entrance. When he has the assurance that it won’t slip out, he pauses his motions. “You’ll tell me if it gets to be too much, yeah?” 

She nods. “Yes.” 

“Good.” 

He softly guides his hips forward, pushing his cock past her opening and letting him be enveloped by her warm, wet walls. He almost has to stop himself from getting ahead of himself and snapping his hips in. A thin layer of perspiration begins to form on his forehead as he concentrates all of his will power into not burying her into the mattress and pounding into her in that moment. Nanami looks to her, trying to gauge where she was at in terms of comfort after fully sheathing himself in her. 

Y/N was in a bit of pain, to say the least. With the stretch of Nanami as he penetrated into her, came the uncomfortable burning sensation of almost being split open. She lets out a hiss and closes her eyes, immediately tensing herself up. Nanami was not small, by any means necessary. Matter of fact, he was much more well endowed than any of Y/N’s previous partners or one night stands, leaving her uncomfortably full with areas that Nanami was touching that had initially been left undisturbed. She could feel the tip of his member twitch inside of her, causing her to unintentionally clamp down on him. 

Nanami stutters out a groan, nearly throwing his head back in pure, unadulterated pleasure, but he forces himself to hold steadfast. He knows that she needs to adjust to him, and he would not move until she gave him the say so. 

The seconds that pass feel like years to Nanami as he remains stagnant. His selfish desire is eating away at his restraint, but he deliberately ignores it, instead focusing all of his attention on her. Gritting his teeth, he gently squeezes her hips, trying to draw her back into the current moment. “Are you alright, Y/N-chan?” 

With her eyes still closed, she nods her head. She reaches down and grabs at one of his hands on her hips, relocating it to her center, with his thumb just barely brushing up against her clit. He slowly begins to swipe at it, hopeful that the stimulation of it would overcome the pain. She repositions herself now, letting her legs interlock around his hips with her ankles linking together, giving him the nonverbal permission that he so desperately required.

Slowly, with careful precision, he begins to roll his hips forward, each time burying himself to the hilt of her. Her warm, velvet walls encasing his cock made his vision nearly go white every time that she clamped around him, whether if it was intentional or not.

Y/N goes slack jawed, the motions painful at first, but the more he pistoned his hips against her, the constant pulsing of his cock within her, the warmth that he offered her, and the haphazard stroking of her clit with his fingers, the more she began to enjoy herself. Her arousal slicked her walls, further lubricating her, loosening her up as Nanami continued with his assault on her. Some of it began to seep out and dampen his pelvis where it met hers, with strings of her connecting them to each other in more ways than one. 

He could have cried right there, if he wanted to.

Nanami’s hips pick up the pace, now slapping against her, filling the room with body parts colliding with one another and uneven breathing and soft moans, and the aroma of sex beginning to flood the enclosed space. Wisps of his hair fall into his eyes, somewhat blocking his view on her as she falls apart underneath him, slowly becoming a pile of jelly and limbs. 

“Y/N-chan, Y/N-channn…” he cries out, his hips now slamming against her, his hands gripping her in a vice grip as he chases the high that he so desperately craved. The motions cause the bed frame to shake and rattle with the headboard starting to bash against the wall. His eyes are locked on her, watching her as she is completely lost to the pleasure that he’s feeding her. Her eyes are closed with her eyebrows furrowed as if she were concentrating on something, her body jerking with each thrust that he plows into her, her breasts even more so, and her hands are white-knuckling the bedsheets. 

It’s a sight truly to behold in his eyes. 

The tension in his abdomen is building to an uncomfortable tightness, the coil close to snapping as his orgasm nears. His hips start to buck into now, the pace almost inhuman. 

“Y/N-chan…I’m close. I’m so close, I can’t…ha…I can’t hold back anymore��Y/N-chan!” 

“On me…I want it on me…” she moans out, looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes in a lustful gaze. The corner of her mouth turned upward into a small smirk. 

His brain nearly short-circuits at the thought of his seed painting her abdomen and chest and face. 

It takes everything within Nanami to stop what he’s doing and pull his cock out of her. He rips the condom off, replacing it with his hand as he starts to vigorously stroke his hand up and down his length, a piss poor replacement for her warmth. He leans over her, putting his free hand by her head, locking eyes with her as he continued to masturbate, the sound of her wetness filling the room as he rapidly stroked up and down his length. She, in a heated second, wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him down to press her lips to his, eager to feel his mouth on her again. He doesn’t stop his movements, as he slips his tongue into her mouth, eager to explore her mouth once again. 

The coil in his abdomen snaps, causing warmth to flood through him in waves throughout his entire core, with his seed finally spurting out of his red, angry tip. He has to stop, pulling away for just a moment as a gasping moan slips out of his mouth.

Y/N startles at the feeling of his heated droplets as they spray onto her abdomen and chest, some of them going as far onto her neck, but quickly relishes in the feeling of it. The majority of it pooling onto her abdomen as it flows from his tip. Nanami stutters out a groan as he slows his hand down, sitting back on his haunches, looking at the canvas that he painted on Y/N’s body, his slowly deflating cock twitching at the sight of it. 

Feeling mischievous, Y/N props herself up on her elbows as scoops up a glob of his seed off of her body. In her post-coital gaze, she maintains eye contact with him as she sticks her tongue out of her mouth, bringing the dollop of seed up to her mouth and places it onto her tongue. Nanami’s eyes nearly dilate to the size of quarters as she pulls her tongue back into her mouth, as this may be one of the most erotic things he’s ever encountered in all of his years. 

Y/N lets out a squeak as Nanami grabs hold of her hips and roughly pulls her down the mattress, fully placing her core against his length.

“If I remember correctly, I don’t think you came around me as we fucked, did you Y/N-chan?” 

Stunned at the sudden motion, all Y/N can really say is: “I, it’s fine Kento, I-”

“Bullshit.” 

“You made me come with your mouth, it’s fine-”

He shoots her a glare. “Let me do this for you. I want to make sure you feel good.”

He reaches up past her to grab a pillow at the head of the bed. “Lift your hips up for me,” he instructs. She follows his command wordlessly and he stuffs the pillow underneath her, placing her pelvis at a bit of an upward angle.

He leans forward over her, placing his hands on either side of her, and places his cock straight onto her clit, and begins to thrust upward, using the external stimulation of his member to rub on her, trying to get her to orgasm once more for him. 

Y/N lets out a soft moan at the feeling of him on her, the filthy sound of her slickness filling the room as Nanami thrusts up on her. She grabs onto her breasts and squeezes them against her chest, desperately trying to ground herself in the moment, but with Nanami’s relentless assault, she finds herself drifting further and further away into the pleasure of it all. 

“I want you to come for me, Y/N-chan,” he growls out, his eyes animalistic and unflinching. “I want you to come undone on my cock. I want you. In every sense. In every way.”

Y/N, once again rendered to a helpless pile of mush, finds herself unable to respond. The feeling of Nanami’s cock on her clit begins to tighten her abdomen once again, causing white hot sensations to build within her. Her toes curl, she grasps onto Nanami’s forearms with her nails digging into his skin. He lets out a hiss, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t dare. 

“Come for me, darling. I want you to come for me. Can you do that for me? Be my good girl and come for me?” 

His words send her into overdrive with flushes of heat making their way directly to her core, more slickness slowly oozing out of her and dampening Nanami’s cock the more he moved against her. He can feel himself hardening again, but he couldn’t care less. 

The more the heat and tension built within Y/N, the more that she squirmed and thrashed into the mattress. All of it mounting up to the point that Nanami was desperately trying to get her towards. He maintained his pace, but he leaned down onto her, smearing his seed on his chest, his lips right at her ear now. “You’re almost there, aren’t you?”

“Kento, I… Oh my fucking… Christ!” Y/N cries out, wrapping both her arms and legs around Nanami’s trunk. “Please! Please, god! I can’t take it anymore!” 

He teasingly licks the outer shell of her ear. “No one’s stopping you, Y/N-chan. Come for me.” 

As if her body were waiting for verbal permission from him, even though he had given it to her several times before, her abdomen collapses on itself, making her vision go white and her ears ring. She loudly cries out, her body jerking with each pulse of her orgasm. He can feel it on his length, and he swears he could have orgasmed once again just as he was. 

He pulls away from her ear and looks at her blissed out face, her eyes closed as she tries to regain control of her breathing. He reaches up and gently cups the side of her face, tenderly brushing the sweat-dampened strands of hairs from her face behind her ears. “Are you okay?” he quietly asks. 

She nods, her eyes still closed. 

“Look at me, Y/N-chan.” 

She tiredly opens her eyes, looking at him blearily. 

He offers a warm smile, before pressing a kiss to the center of her forehead before kissing his way down to her mouth, carefully tender pecks to where he could place his lips. He leans his forehead down, resting it upon hers. “I want you to stay home from work tomorrow.”

She looks at him in confusion, her eyebrows furrowing. “What? Why?”

“There are some things that I need to take care of in the office. I would rather you not be there to witness them. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you, Y/N-chan.” His eyes are unfaltering, his tone absolute. There was no room for argument with him.

She hesitates, trying to digest what he’s telling her, a sinking feeling of unease starting to fill her abdomen. She trusts him, though. 

And against her better judgment, she nods, a frown forming on her face. 

“Will I see you later then, after work?” she asks, almost timidly. 

He leans down and presses another kiss to her lips. “I’ll do my best to see you, that is, if Akiyama doesn’t have my head on a silver platter,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. 

There were people that still needed to be dealt with. 

~

He left her apartment early in the morning, while Y/N was dead asleep to the world. A sense of longing fills him as he looks upon her sleeping form, not wanting to leave her only for her to wake up alone, however, there was urgent business that needed attending to. 

On the elevator ride to the floor where the office was located, his briefcase weighed a bit heavier than it normally did. As soon as he stepped into the common area where all of the other employees were, the majority of them did double-takes at him, all their gazes locked on him as he slowly stalked his way to Akiyama’s office. He didn’t bother to knock on the door or wait for any notion that it was okay for him to enter into the enclosed space, he simply barged in, catching Akiyama off guard as he sat at his desk, tapping away at his computer.

“Nanami-san!” He jumps, startled at the sudden intrusion, before a rather sour look crosses over his face as the memories of the day prior begin to flash through his mind. He regains control of himself, and puts on a rather tight expression on his face. “Have a seat. We need to have a discussion about your petulant behavior yesterday.” 

“I don’t think I will. I’ll remain standing for the rest of this conversation,” Nanami cooly responds. He knows that it’s not going to last long.

“Fine. Stand for all I care.” 

Akiyama then goes on a tirade about how Nanami’s behavior yesterday was inexcusable, how it’s totally unprofessional for him to speak to his superior in the manner that he did, and how he has grounds to fire Nanami and Y/N for abandoning their work duties with unexcused work absences, and so on, so forth. 

The more Akiyama ranted, the more Nanami’s hearing started to drown out due to a loud whistling sound in his ears. Red, hot anger was flooding in his chest, making both his heart rate and respiration rate increase in rhythm. 

Though Akiyama can’t see it, the blue glow of cursed energy started to fully envelope Nanami’s body the more that his anger grew. He wasn’t on overtime, but his emotions were getting the better of him, not allowing him to think clearly and making him tap into his excess cursed energy that he stored within himself. 

Akiyama, clearly not paying attention, continues on, now going on about something that Nanami can’t hear due to the whistling in his ears. His eyes analytically looked at Akiyama’s face, the invisible ratio line starting to form on his center, beginning from the base of his jaw to the tip of his receding widow’s peak. The increment markings began to form, and the seventh ratio line formed at his glabella, the point in between his eyebrows and just above his nasal bone. 

Nanami sets his briefcase down on one of the chairs. 

Akiyama can’t make it to another point as Nanami’s fist connects to the glabella and smashes his face and skull inward. 

The impact of the blow is fatal. 

Incident Log # 207

Multiple casualties were reported on the seventh floor of the Fujimoto Office Complex in the ward of Shinjuku, in the prefecture of Tokyo. Thirty two bodies were accounted for out of thirty four employees. Seventeen men, and fifteen women. The nature of injuries closely correlate to that of a sorcerer instead of a cursed entity. Residuals of cursed energy left behind strongly indicate that of former Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College student and graduate Nanami Kento. Nanami Kento is an employee at the Fujimoto office and has been missing since the attack occurred. The only other survivor is Y/L Y/N, as she had not been reported to be at the location when the incident transpired. 

Special Grade Sorcerer Gojo Satoru is assigned to the case.

The natures and causes of death are reported as followed: 

Akiyama Hinata, aged fifty seven, nature of injuries: concave trauma to the frontal lobe of cranium. Cause of death: blunt force trauma to the head.

Fumiko Asami, aged thirty one, nature of injuries: body sliced in half at the anterior inferior iliac spine of pelvis, causing bilateral femoral arteries to be cut open and massive blood loss to occur. Cause of death: blood loss and hypovolemic shock.

Aiko Marina, aged thirty, nature of injuries…

Y/N can’t even stomach her way through the rest of the report and she throws it onto the table in front of her. She’s sitting in an interrogation room with a silver haired man that sports a blindfold over his eyes. He’s introduced himself as Gojo Satoru, the main investigator on this case and she’s been presented with pictures of the crime scene and surveillance footage of the office as the attack went down. She watched as Nanami, for lack of a better word, butchered the entire office as he wielded a giant blunt knife that was wrapped in a white cloth with black spots all over it that was secretly concealed within his briefcase that he brought in that morning. 

She wants to vomit. 

“Is there anything else that you might be able to tell me involving this incident?” Gojo pries, as he leans back into the chair, placing his feet on the edge of the table. “It was reported that Nanami Kento did have a bit of a soft spot for you leading up to the attack. Is there any chance that he might have mentioned something to you about it?”

Y/N shakes her head, her eyes locked onto two pictures of Nanami that lay on the table. One of him when he was a student, with his long, sandy blonde hair that swooped over both of his eyes to one side, and the other looking as if it had been taken yesterday, with his hair in a professional side part, dressed in his regular two piece attire. “He didn’t mention anything like this. To be frank, I didn’t even know that he contained such power within himself.” Which, to be fair, wasn’t a total lie. Y/N didn’ know that he was a jujutsu sorcerer to begin with. “He was very big on keeping his personal life separate from his professional life.” 

She doesn’t dare tell them of the intimate moments that she shared with him the night before. She doesn’t tell them of the note that Nanami left her in her apartment that morning that sits in the back pocket of her pants. To her, in that moment, it feels as if it weighs over a thousand pounds.

It’s the last thing that she has of Nanami. She won’t give it up. Not now, not ever. 

Gojo sighs, before taking his feet off the edge of the table, letting his chair lean forward back into its normal position. He digs into one of his pockets and offers her a contact card. “If you remember anything at all, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me. I’d be more than happy to meet you in a different place than this dreary old place.” 

He tries to make her laugh, but it’s futile. 

“Am I free to leave?” 

He nods. “You were never imprisoned here to begin with.” 

She gets up, does a 45 degree bow at the waist, and quickly takes her leave, eager to be off the campus of the Jujutsu Technical College campus. There’s a sense of unease that fills her the more time that she spends there. 

On the train ride back to her apartment, she pulls the note out of her pocket and reads it through, like it’s the first time. His handwriting is scribbled onto the paper, his characters completely lacking the neat and orderly fashion that she’s so accustomed to seeing from him. 

Dearest Y/N,

By the time that you’re reading this, I have no doubt in my mind that the news stations will be reporting on what I’ve done to our co-workers. Or should I say “former”. 

I’m sorry that it took me so long to stand up to the rest of them, especially for the sake of what they were doing to you on a daily basis. You didn’t deserve to be treated like you were nothing. You didn’t deserve to be humiliated and bullied by them. I will always be forever regretful that I allowed it to continue on for such a long period of time. I wanted to make things better for you, Y/N. 

I’m sorry that this is the way things have to end between the two of us, even though our relationship had only just barely begun. You are the first woman that I’ve encountered in my life that made me want to better myself. Be kinder. More tender with my actions and how I interacted with the world and the people in it.  

It’s a shame that I’m reduced to such callous actions on my part. 

I’m a coward for running away. I know I am. I know that they’ll be looking for me. They most likely will try to interrogate you, coerce information out of you. I won’t begrudge you if you did. You would be doing the right thing, of course. With the actions I’m about to commit, it surely would be the only way. 

I love you. 

I should be saying this directly to you, and softly caressing your face while I do so, but this is the next best option. I love you. Granted, we only spent so much time together, but as I’ve said previously before, I’ve grown to care for you. Much more than I initially let on. 

I can only hope to see you in the near future, but I don’t know if that will ever come to fruition or not. 

Please take care of yourself, Y/N-chan.

-Nanami Kento

Thank you for reading 💕

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: Five different perspectives on Nanami Kento.

Tags: Angst, humour, mystery, character study.

Warnings: canon-typical violence.

"I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.

Whatever I see I swallow immediately

Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.

I am not cruel, only truthful‚

The eye of a little god, four-cornered."

~ The Mirror, Sylvia Plath

Yoshinari remembers that day well. Even now, decades later, his team leader's near-panicked expression stands out with harsh clarity in his mind. Yoshinari had just mentioned that he hadn't finished the analysis due that afternoon because he'd been struck down with a bad bout of flu. Whirling on his heel, the team lead had really let fly with his irritation.

"But we had an agreement! You were to complete the analysis the day before yesterday! There'll be no excuse at all for us walking into that meeting unprepared!"

"But sir ... I had a lot to catch up on that evening. And I - "

"I'm done with this conversation! Come up with something, or explain to the chief why you couldn't finish your basic tasks on time."

Left standing in the empty hallway, Yoshinari had let frustration, anger, self-pity and helplessness wash over him, bitter as a brackish tide. Nobody ever listened to him. Nobody ever understood how the demands of this job couldn't be humanly met unless he practically lived at the office. Nobody cared what his state of health was. Nobody -

"Are you all right?"

Hastily wiping off the corner of his eye, he turned to see none other than Nanami Kento standing in the doorway leading from the hallway to the main office floor. Nanami, whose reports were always turned in on time. Nanami, whose suits were never rumpled, whose clients never complain, whose presentations were always meticulous, who never spilled a drop or wasted a crumb when he ate -

Tamping down the rising envy and resentment for the tall man standing before him, Yoshinari sighed and embraced the inevitable. It isn't Nanami's fault. Nanami is simply doing the job, like the rest of them. He just happened to be a lot more competent at it than most. 

"I'm a bit ... under the weather, that's all. There's a meeting this afternoon. I won't be prepared because I haven't had time to get the quarterly analysis done."

Nanami watched him in silence. Yoshinari continued, chest feeling slightly less heavy as he vented to his quiet companion.

"I just wish ... that we were given more value, you know? We're not robots. We're people. And sometimes, we ... I can't get all my tasks done. I just wanted ... some understanding. That's all."

Yoshinari realized just how petulant he sounded the more he spoke. His voice trailed off, and he avoided the other man's gaze. What must Nanami think of someone like him? Did he pity him? Was he annoyed by him and his complaining? Was he indifferent, like everyone else? It was hard to tell.

Nanami never lost his composure, never expressed strong emotion, never seemed anything other than cool and detached. He must think that someone like Yoshinari was worthy of pity and contempt. Nothing more.

Without waiting for Nanami's reply, Yoshinari turned and made his way to the elevators, trying to focus on the client briefing lined up (and not the humiliation and reprimands he'd have to endure later.)

The humiliation never came, though. Walking into the meeting that afternoon, Yoshinari was met with the huffy, slightly startled demeanor of the team leader when he was complimented on his 'sterling work', handed a steaming cup of coffee and patted on the back. He sat through the rest of the meeting in a daze, mind still struggling to grapple with what had occurred.

When he got a chance, he snuck a look at the analysis that supposedly came from him. There, in the phrasing, the layout, the orderly sequences of figures and the in-depth breakdown of each element, he recognises the hand of Nanami Kento.

When the meeting was over, he tried to find Nanami, to thank him for that unexpected favour. A part of him was beginning to take the assistance with a pinch of salt; what did Nanami expect in return for this?

When he eventually spied Nanami, he paused, the report crumpling slightly in his hand. Coat draped over his chair, tie cast over one shoulder, sleeves rolled up and chair reclining, Nanami's hollowed eyes and sharply-defined cheekbones were covered with a white handkerchief, the marks of exhaustion clear in his bearing.

Many years later, watching his grandchildren chase each other around the darkened trunk of a plum tree, a soft, secret smile finds its home on Yoshinari's face as he remembers that day. He glances up at the delicate blossoms, pushing their heads insistently into the fresh bite of a new spring day and wonders if Nanami ever had grandchildren of his own.

Warmth. Kinship. Command.

When Master calls me out, I recognise the tug and relentless pull into another place. This place. This world of scent and colour and sound, where I am given form.

My Master's hands smell of paper, freshly cut apples and grass. They are firm and familiar as their fingers run through my fur. Sometimes, Master brings us out of the other place without urgency, simply to keep us at his side.

Megumi.

That is my Master's given name. He is dark in spirit, light of foot, and his mouth seldom curves, like the other humans. But when we are all together, pack, bodies curled up and sharing warmth, Master's eyes are like a distant lamp, flickering softly.

The white-veined one names my Master as Megumi. He is the one with power like a great summer storm, sweeping with acrid sharpness across the senses and scorching the unseen world in his wake. His hair is white too, his spirit leaping from one focus to the next, lightning and laughter.

The white-veined one is trustworthy. He is pack, but even though Master trusts him completely, he makes others nervous.

And then, there is the Blademaster. This one is almost familiar. He is like Master in many ways. He smells of good food, old leather and the sharp tang of polished metal. His power is an underground river, swift and subtle, rising to a well-controlled roar when he calls upon it.

The Blademaster avoids pack. He likes to sit alone on the benches at sunset, sometimes, with his food in an oval box at his side. He stares a lot into the sky. Only he knows what he sees there.

The sky doesn't hold much interest for me, but the smells from the Blademaster's box always call for attention. He has meat in there. And cheese. Sometimes, if I press my nose into his hand, he shares his food. It is good food. It tastes better when he offers it out of his own palm.

The Blademaster's hand is bigger, rougher around the fingers than Master's. He is an experienced warrior, and he has been in many fights. The scent of it is on him, in ways that cannot be disguised. He carries the smell of old wounds, of battles that etched away at the parts of him than leave no visible scars. 

Sometimes, his pain is great. Those times, he needs pack, even if he doesn't know it. I find him, at his bench. Even though he has no food, I sit with him. His fingers in my fur are different, but warm, like Master's.

We watch the sky together.

It's the bustle of the lunch rush that brings him suddenly into her mind; tall, broad-shouldered, imposing in his dark, pinstripe suit. She's seen many, many salarymen enter her establishment over the years, but none quite like him.

He'd seemed hard, humourless, exacting, a man of substance and character, whittled away bit by bit by the hundred inconveniences and troubles of everyday life. Her attempts to cheer him up always fell flat. Her jokes landed like stale bread on a food critic's plate.

"Hey, Nanami! Good to see you! Decided to loaf around on your lunch break again?"

"How am I loafing?"

"Ah, that was just a pun. You know. Because you come here to buy sandwiches."

"Do you charge extra for the puns? Because I'm not paying for that."

"Wow. So cold ... "

And on another occasion:

"Hey Nanami! Knock knock."

" ... "

"You're supposed to say 'who's there?'"

"Who's there."

"As a question, not a statement!"

"Does it matter?"

"Fine. It's doughnut."

"Doughnut who?"

"Dough nut enter the shop without checking out the specials!"

"Please just give me the sandwich."

Ah, those were good times. Maybe he did appreciate her silly attempts at humour on some level. She'd never know.

Sometimes, she wonders if she shouldn't have asked him for help. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut about that pesky stiffness and pain in her shoulder joint. There was no way she could have known what would happen next.

She recalls, with perfect clarity, the sudden change in his demeanour. The subtle straightening of his posture, the focus of that intense honey-brown stare, the way he'd looked at and past her, as if glancing through some secret window into an unknown she could never fathom. And then, he'd raised his arm, swung it in that swift, decisive motion, and her pain disappeared in a matter of seconds.

She still wonders how exactly he'd accomplished that. Was he a spiritual healer of some kind? She couldn't think of an occupation less suited to someone like him. All the same, she was thankful. She'd even packed a free almond croissant and coffee with his sandwich the next day, kept aside for the lunch rush.

Except, he'd never shown up. Not that day, or the next, or the day after that. Nanami simply disappeared from the normal routine of his life altogether.

Of course, she made some enqueries. She was somewhat concerned, considering how sudden his absence had been. What if he'd overworked himself enough to end up in hospital? It wasn't unheard of.

His work colleagues, some of whom also frequented the bakery, told her that he'd suddenly up and left. Handed in his resignation and promptly disappeared.

She'd never heard from him, ever again. It wasn't that she was upset or offended. Customers changed their whims daily. But with him ... something about it concerned her. What would prompt a creature of habit, like Nanami, to suddenly change his routine? There was probably a perfectly sound explanation for it, but it worried her all the same.

After all these years, even now, as manager of her own small dessert shop, not far from the original bakery she'd served at, she'd never taken the casse-croûte off the menu.

It would remain there, for the day he might come through the door once again, and she'd say it, just like she'd rehearsed in her mind so many times. 

"Welcome back, Nanami. The usual?"

Pain. This is all that she thinks, all that she feels. It is all-consuming. It isn't like the time she broke her finger after a particularly bad fall when she was ten years old. Not even like the wound left when her mother died; gaping, raw around the edges, on display for all that looked her way.

This pain was, somehow, even worse than that. Pain that twisted and tore through the fabric of her, agony piled on agony, neverending. It stretched beyond her, into a night of unknown horrors that she had no means of comprehending.

Something was very, very wrong with her body. This much she could tell, even as she wove in and out of consciousness. The sense of change to her own form, of being maimed in some fundamental sense, was so strong that she wondered how she was still alive.

His hands. So cold. Pain beyond imagining. She doesn't want to enter that forbidden entryway in her thoughts. Someone did this to her. Someone made her helpless, controlled her. Turned her into this grotesque travesty of a living thing. She should feel furious, that this had been done to her. But she doesn't have the capacity for anything but pleading, begging for a swift release from this torment.

Something is shifting around her now. She cannot even brace for the agony, because there are no known muscles for her to do so. Her body feels like a shapeless, amorphous mass that changes according to the unknown puppeteer's will.

Now, she feels the brush of fetid air on her flesh, the dank, mossy wall of some subterranean feature, a dizzying sense of being propelled at high speed through a narrow space.

Someone is moving alongside her, dodging, weaving. Not the puppeteer. Another. Their movements are swift, strong, filled with a measured grace that dances around her striking, flailing limbs (if they can still be called such) with dexterity. She tries to fight back against the overpowering will, to stop any harm coming to that person. It is futile.

Another shift, her body stretched in another direction. And - oh! Air! Damp and rank in scent, something like a sewer, but never more welcome. Her senses had been cloaked, due to the current nature of her body, but now, she was aware of eyes, ears, nose, a budding mouth that opened in a soundless cry for help.

He heard her.

He was standing over her, feet braced on her alien form. A man in dark glasses and a suit, a strangely patterned sword at his side. The sensation of the strangely blunt blade cleaving her flesh as she hurtles at him is weighted, some kind of energy behind it.

He can cause damage to her in this form! He can ...

But her mouth doesn't work the way it's supposed to. She can't beg him, can't plead with him to end this abysmal existence that only serves as torture. The terror, anger, frustration and hopelessness have no channel by which to reach the outside world any longer.

No! Please! Help me!

Wrung from dregs of her despair, a single tear forms at the corner of her existing eye, rolling down the distended, distorted skin.

Is this it? Is this all she can summon?

But he sees it. His hand is reaching down, towards where she lies, helpless beneath his feet, helpless to the whim of another. His thumb is warm, so warm, as he strokes beneath her eye, dashing away the trace of the tear.

In the moments that follow, before her consciousness finally descends into blessed, blessed darkness, she memorizes the feel of that touch, the last thing on this earthly plane that she'll ever know.

For all her suffering, let it never be said that she hasn't known true kindness.

Gojo and Namamin. Side by side, they're day and night. Yuuji can see that, and often delights in it. He thinks about it now, as he brushes his teeth, one hand carding absently through the tangles in his hair.

Gojo operated on a certain wavelength Yuuji had been attuned to since the very beginning. Nanamin, less so.

When Yuuji really thinks about it, it reminds him somewhat of the recipes his grandfather taught him. Gramps's house was one run on self-sufficiency. There was never an excuse for slacking off.

Gojo was like the spicy miso ramen he'd learned to make, the one with the specially crafted chilli oil and the perfect ramen egg for topping. A wash of heat, scorching the tongue and throat, a burst of flavour that somehow lingered long after it had rushed past your teeth like a flashflood. It entertained, it sustained, it left you feeling warm and energized.

Nanamin was like bread.

Now, Yuuji wasn't crazy about bread. He was more of a rice-bowl kinda guy. But the baking of bread was something he'd never quite managed to get the hang of, to begin with. His grandfather eyeballed ingredients, kneaded with rapid, dexterous fists, added an extra pinch of salt here, or a splash of milk there, depending on the type and texture of bread he wanted. It was as if Gramps could envision an end product that Yuuji had no concept of at all.

Namamin had been just as difficult to gauge in the mixing bowl of Yuuji's experience. Practical, rule-following, collected and proper. Spontaneity could take a hike, as far as Nanamin was concerned. Not the kind of man to pretend to be dead and then hop out of a box when you least expect it.

Ha. Anyway.

Bread. That's the analogy he was going with, and the one he was finding increasingly appropriate.

Pulling on his uniform jacket, Yuuji felt the familiar tug and rumble of hunger ascend from his stomach. He tied the laces on his signature red sneakers and grabbed his backpack, heading for the Tech cafeteria for breakfast.

Thinking over it further, bread was ... a staple. It was not to everyone's taste. It was simple, filling, a great companion piece for more flavourful ingredients. And hellishly difficult to bake correctly. For Yuuji, at least.

Yeah. Bread. It was a good comparison.

Turning the corner, Yuuji nearly ran right into the current occupant of his thoughts.

"Ah ... Nanamin! You're here early today!"

"Good morning, Yuuji. Please be careful. I have a cup of hot coffee here."

Falling into step beside the stoic sorcerer (uninvited) Yuuji decided to share some of his thoughts, an uncharacteristically serious expression adorning his face.

"Nanamin, there's something I've been thinking about."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. If I had to compare you to a food, it'd be bread."

A silence meets this statement. Nanami takes a sip of his coffee. Undeterred, Yuuji continues.

"Like, I love a good katsudon, but when it's midnight and I've been training hard, and I wake up all tired and my body's all sore ... I just go make a sandwich, ya know? Even when Gramps was in hospital and I used to get back from school, and oh, yeah, I sometimes forgot to buy groceries ... there was still bread. Just a loaf, there on the counter. And it didn't matter if there were no other ingredients to cook with, or anything, because you can't go wrong with a fried egg on some fresh, crispy toast. Ahh, yeah. The best."

Nanami adjusted his glasses slightly.

"Itadori ... is this your way of informing me that you find me reliable?"

"Huh? Oh ... I mean, yeah. But that's not all."

"It isn't?"

"Nah. 'Cos I baked bread with my Gramps, see? And it was hard to get right. But I did, at some point. And it felt ... great. And I never got it wrong again. And Gramps is gone now, I know. But when I miss him, kinda, baking bread helps me remember what it was like having him around."

Having said his piece, Yuuji folded his arms behind his head, marching peaceably alongside Nanami, lightly humming the theme song to the latest show he'd been watching. Nanami was now looking down, into his coffee. He didn't take another sip. His voice, when he spoke, was quieter than usual.

"I like sandwiches. Trying different fillings is something of a hobby of mine."

Yuuji nods, a light grin forming on his face.

"I can tell."

"Having said that ... I'm partial to fried chicken and beer on a Tuesday afternoon. It ... reminds me of when I was younger."

"Whoa. For real?"

"Yes."

"But Nanamin ... isn't fried chicken and beer the kind of thing you share with others?"

"It is."

"Hmmm."

Yuuji appears to give this some serious thought, before slapping his fist into his palm as an epiphany strikes.

"But wait! Let's get it together next time! I won't drink the beer, don't worry. I can get a soda or something."

"What - "

"And we can order the MegaBox deal that also comes with a medium pizza and cheese croquettes!"

"Yuuji - "

"Oooh, I'm so excited! I wonder what their pizza base is like? But hey, Nanamin, I've gotta run ahead. Maki-senpai's training with me today and she'll kick my ass if I'm late. See ya on Tuesday!"

All thoughts of bread firmly shelved for the present, Yuuji trotted further up the corridor and through the sliding doors of the cafeteria, pausing to wave at Nanami as he left his line of vision.

Yuuji doesn't get to see the small smile that temporarily eases the harsh lines of the sorcerer's face. It is fleeting, gentle, an echo of a smile he'd worn for another, long ago.

Dividers by: @sister-lucifer

[tenowls]

nanamin <3

[ummmlife]

they live rent free in my head

[vintageskeletons]

jjk or everyone's fave slice of life series <3

for @astronomicalfluffweek. happiest (belated) birthday @astrowaffles!!!!! thank you for always feeding us with the gojo+fushiguro and gojo+first year trio fluff and humour we all desperately need. you're the best and the coolest and did i mention the best? (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

[ciellunee]

I DON'T DESERVE LOVE

Pairing- Kento Nanami x reader

Genre- angst, smau, hurt/comfort

Synopsis- Nanami is exhausted and snaps at his girlfriend, making him question if he's even capable of her innocent love?

It was almost 11 PM, and nanami was still not home. You were lazing on the couch, waiting for him to return. Nanami has been a little too busy for the past 2-3 months. You and Nanami have been together for almost 3 years now, and the past few months haven't been the best for the two of you.

Every time you tried talking to him, he'd get really frustrated and snap back at you. You understood his anger and frustrations were due to work stress and let him be.

It's been 13 days since you and nanami held a proper conversation even though you share the mansion. You missed him, his tired face made you worry and you became anxious and depressed. You wanted him to leave the job and find another one, a job that doesn't Overwhelm him like this, but you were too scared to present your views. However, today, you finally decided to voice yourself. This relationship isn't going to doom because of a stupid job!

You knew he didn't mean it. Kento wasn't one to ever hurt you on purpose, let alone make you cry, but today..... it was different.

You want to understand kento tonight aswell, you want to be a doll for him tonight as well. You want to drag yourself to the bed and sleep again, but something just snaps inside you. Your cheeks feel hot, burning water pouring down your eyes, not even realising you're crying, you try to text him back, to tell him you're not his servant but lover, that you demand his respect and crave his love and attention but you're too exhausted to do that. So you stood there, phone in your hand, throat and eyes burning as you let your overthinking get the best of you. *Did he really think you're selfish?*

You didn't realise when you fell asleep in the living room, on the hard wooden floor, face exhausted and strained, cheeks stained by tears you let yourself cry to sleep and for what? Your lover's text? You felt pathetic, "Of course, he was right. I'm always too much to handle he's tired of me" being your exact thoughts before fatigue took over you and your eyes closed.

At around 2:30, your boyfriend entered the home looking absolutely drained. The bags under his eyes are huge. He's done with everything, just wants to be in his love's embrace while he forgets all about his job.

Entering inside, he is met with a tired looking s/o lying on the floor near the couch. His heart sinks as he moves forward to see her face hot and tear stained cheeks. He really never wanted to see you like this, that's why he worked his ass off so that you would never face any difficulties in life. His precious darling could enjoy her life without worrying about deadlines or getting consumed physically and mentally. Nanami never wished to see you like this. His hands shook as he held you close to his heart, mumbling an apology you're too asleep to hear. "It's all my fault, isn't it? I couldn't be the person you deserve. I always wished that you would never get caught in a life where you'll have to trade that glorious smile off for some money, but I did it myself. I don't even remember the last time I made you smile~ You regret choosing me, don't you?"

His eyes gave up, and the stoic jujutsu sorcerer and monotonous salary man nanami kento was bawling. His body shook half from the fatigue and tiredness and remaining from the fact that he became the person he was trying to save you from. His mind played every memory, every moment you two spent together, every time you made nanami smile. Coming home to such a loving partner was his victory in life. It was his achievement. He wanted to protect you, to save your innocent heart, but now he was in his living room crying, contemplating if he ever deserved someone like you?

The next morning, you wake up in your room, your head aching wildly, but you ignore it and search for the only person you wish to see. Did he tuck you in? When did he come home? Where was he? But you could only find a note stuck to the nightstand. "I've got to discuss something really important with my boss, I'll be home soon. Ps- there's some sandwiches and your smoothie in the kitchen. Love (your ken)"

You blushed as your fingers kept going on your Ken. For some reason, this morning felt weirdly positive. Your heart fluttered, thinking you'll finally get to spend some time with your boyfriend after weeks of him ignoring your presence.

After a few hours, your phone dings grabbing your attention, a message from kento pops up~

[lokidjarin-7567]

Kinktober Day 6: One Night Stand

Nanami Kento x you

Contents: fem!reader x Nanami (JJK), honestly not very kinky and I actually hate this and it’s barely edited but here it is

W/C: 3k

So I think this is overthought and overworked and mostly just nonsense but I love this man and my brain ran away with me, I’ll make it up with filth soon don’t worry <3

Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

You couldn’t place your finger on why, but the moment you laid your eyes on the man at the bar, you were drawn to him.

He had a certain presence around him, commanding. He was attractive, obviously, with neat, parted blonde hair and a jaw sharp enough to cut glass. He was tall too, and well built - a fact you could ascertain even though he was wearing a perfectly tailored pinstripe suit. Honestly, everything about him seemed perfect to the point of obsession - his tie knotted impeccably, the pin exactly straight and his shirt tucked neatly, even though it was long after the usual 9-5 hours.

But he looked tired. Drooping eyes with dark bags under them, and he hadn’t lifted his gaze from the glass of bourbon nestled in his hand except to ask the bartender for a refill. He seemed powerful and stoic, and he looked very much like you wanted to be alone. But just in case he didn’t, maybe you should give him an option…

You finished your drink, grabbing your things from the small corner booth to perch at the bar. You were only a few stools away now, but you were too nervous to speak to him directly, opting instead to order a drink from the bartender. The same as always: a martini, gin, dry, twist. The only ‘classy’ cocktail you could stomach. He nodded at you, moving to make it, and you watched, only drawn away for a moment to check yourself in your compact. You would probably have to freshen up after this drink but your make up was still relatively intact - one of the few perks of working an office job for years.

You put your purse away, looking up to see the bartender placing down your drink… that was wrong. It had an olive. You hate olives. You glanced up, not wanting to complain, only to see that he had his back to you. And there was no way in hell you were going to try and get his attention…

“Excuse me, Sir…” you heard a smooth voice say, and saw the man beside you lift his arm to beckon the barkeep back. “She ordered a twist, not an olive.” He was blunt in the way he spoke, but not rude. Commanding and polite. And he had noticed your order, noticed you. It made you blush.

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that. I’ll remake it right away.”

“Thank you.” He replied, smiling wordlessly at you as he continued to drink.

“Thank you,” you managed to choke out, forcing yourself to ignore the anxiety ringing in the back of your mind, “I never would’ve asked.”

“It’s not a problem.” You smiled again, trying to think of something to say to keep the conversation going, but to your surprise, he was the one who continued, “I’m Nanami, by the way.” You introduced yourself just as your fresh drink was served. You thanked the bartender while he apologised profusely, although you couldn’t help but notice that he was aiming most of his regrets at Nanami.

“I haven’t seen you here before.” He muttered once the barkeep had gone, his eyes never wavering from yours.

“No, it’s my first visit here. My office just moved location to a few streets down, so I figured I would test some of the bars in the area.” You paused, cautious of how fast you were talking. Relax. “Do you come here often?” He nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

“Depends on how late I’m working, but at least weekly.”

“What do you do?”

You hadn’t realised how close you had moved to him until your knee hit his while you were listening to him talk. You must have been leaning in subconsciously, mesmerised by him, but by the smirk on his lips halfway through his sentence, he didn’t mind.

“Sorry, I’ve been going on… I have a lot of enthusiasm for anything besides my work…”

“What’s your plan then? If you don’t enjoy your work, what are you aiming for at the end of it?” He cocked his head at the candour of your question, a more serious expression falling over his face.

“I… I want a house by the beach. A life without working hours. Or maybe just a job that… makes a difference. A real difference to real people, not just to the top 1%. I don’t really mind beyond that.” He sighed, finishing his drink quietly. You could see a lot of yourself reflected in his attitude. You wanted nothing more than to escape the routine, the boredom of it all, the constant feeling of worthlessness you were burdened with from working in finance. You just wanted something outside of that monotony. Outside of the greyscale.

He laughed humourlessly, placing his empty glass on the bar.

“Sorry, I ruined the mood.”

“No, no, I was just… well, I was just thinking about how nice that sounded.” You smiled at him, but it took a moment to realise that your hand had fallen to his thigh. You blushed, embarrassed, starting to remove it but he stopped you, his own hand falling on top of yours. Cold, but not uncomfortably so, his long fingers wrapping around your palm, thumb drawing lazy circle on your wrist.

“Did you maybe want to grab another drink at mine? It’s only a few streets away and the bar’s closing soon…”

“I’d love to.”

It had started raining, and you hadn’t brought a jacket with you. Luckily, you didn't mind the rain, a fact he seemed appalled by when you walked straight out into it without batting an eye. He didn’t have much of a choice but to follow, your hand still wrapped in his. You were both soaking by the time you reached the lobby of his apartment building, dripping in the elevator as you made your way up the many floors. You watched the number tick up hand in hand, your head rested gently on his shoulder. It would’ve been a good time to kiss him, but something stopped you. Something told you if you kissed him now, the night would end. You would fuck and fall asleep in each other’s arms and then you would never talk again. You didn’t want that. You found him fascinating, and as much as you wanted to fuck him, you weren’t ready for the night to be over.

His apartment was gorgeous - panoramic views of the city, minimal but tasteful furnishings, and a beautiful floor-to-ceiling book shelf full to the brim of classic literature. You made a beeline for it as soon as you had removed your shoes, the first time since you left the bar that you had let go of his hand, although it somehow felt colder now it was gone. You recognised a few titles, running your fingers over the spines as you read the names to yourself, marvelling at the perfectly alphabetised collection.

“I don’t know why I keep buying them - I haven’t had a chance to read them all yet. Not enough time.” He had moved beside you, arm touching yours with a warmth you hadn’t expected. He had taken off his suit jacket, his shirt almost completely dry beneath it, a welcome feeling next to your bare arms.

“I’ll help you.” You mused quietly, “We can divide and conquer.” He smiled at that warmly, his eyes seeming to brighten with it. After a blissful second, he seemed to come to his senses, tearing his eyes away from you and sighing in a way that suggested frustration with himself.

“Oh I’m sorry, you’re soaked through, let me get you a towel…” Before you could object he had rushed away, and taken his warmth with him, but he had left you smiling like a school girl.

After you had dried off just enough to not drip rainwater all over his floor, he offered you a drink. You accepted gratefully, and he motioned you to his sofa. You sat at the far end, curling your legs up so you could face him. There was something hypnotic about the way he moved. It was almost lyrical, the fluidity of his arms as he reached to grab a pair of tumblers from his cupboard, the ease with which he opened the scotch bottle, the ever so slight strain of his shirt buttons as he walked. He handed you the drink, fingers brushing slightly, and you thanked him, taking a sip and nestling it carefully in your palm. He had sat close to you, achingly close, the side of his thigh pressed tightly against your shins. It was comforting.

You couldn’t help but watch as he got comfortable in his own home, removing his cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves, meticulously intruding and folding his tie, placing it carefully on the table next to the cufflinks, undoing just his top shirt button, allowing you to steal a glance at his collarbone and the hollow of his neck. You wanted nothing more than to run your tongue across the pale skin there, hear his groan into your ear…

You snapped out of your daydream when he started to talk, taking a sip of scotch to wake yourself up.

“I’m glad you moved to sit at the bar tonight.” You nearly spit out your drink.

“How do you…” You hadn't seen him look up from his drink once all evening, so you weren't sure when he had time to notice you…

“I saw you come in.” You laughed in disbelief, a playful smile falling across your lips, but he looked serious. “You looked tired. Frustrated. You were squinting at your phone and nearly bumped into three people on your way to a booth.” Jesus, he really had noticed you. “And then you put your phone away, and I could see your whole body visibly relax. You were just watching people, looking at the world go by. I couldn't tell, but I thought you might've been…”

“What?” You whispered, whole body tense as you listened to him speak about you in such vivid clarity.

“Sad. You looked sad, at the lives other people seemed to have. The joy. Not jealous, just… resigned to the fact you don’t have that.” God, he was good. You chuckled without warmth, casting your eyes away from his and to your drink.

“You should be a shrink, you know…”

“No I just… I know that look.” You smiled, tucking your legs up to your chest and draping your arm across the back of the sofa. He wrapped his arm around your legs in a way that seemed instinctive, natural even, pulling you into his chest just a little bit, just enough to feel that gorgeous warmth emanating from him again. “So, what does your future look like? Away from a corporate life?” He echoed your earlier question, and you thought for a moment, gazing into his eyes, hoping for some inspiration.

“A cottage in the countryside, maybe in a historic village somewhere. A sprawling garden with runner ducks and cats and fruit trees. A vintage sewing machine and a record player and a library.” You paused, taking a sip of your drink to try and pull yourself away from your imaginary life before you got too attached. “I just want my future to be something… relaxing, and beautiful. Something or somewhere I can be content. And if I have to work, let it be somewhere I can make a difference. Even if I’m not happy, as long as I’m making a difference...” He began to run his fingers across your thigh in slow circles, his deep brown eyes scanning your face with an intensity you’d never seen before. It was… recognition. Acknowledgment.

“To being content… or making a difference.” he muttered, raising his glass to you, and you repeated the toast, lightly touching the rim to his before finishing the last of it.

You had just started to talk about something trivial when he noticed you shivering. You honestly hadn't even realised, so hypnotised by him that you didn't quite feel real, your body taking over while your mind just let itself admire him. His hand slipped over yours, a concerned look crossing his face.

“You’re freezing.”

“I’m fine, really…”

“No, you’re shivering. Let me get you a blanket or…”

“Or…” you paused, placing down your glass and allowing your now free hand to fall to his chest, “maybe you’ll could think of a creative way to warm me up…” His whole demeanour shifted, the worry replaced with a dark expression, a smirk falling to his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” You muttered in response, stretching your leg across his laps and shifting your hips so you were straddling him, lips now only inches from his. “I heard it’s always best to take off wet clothes…” Your lack of recent flirting practice was showing, and you almost cringed at your own awful line, but the noise was stifled in your throat as he firmly pulled your lips to his. He breathed up into you, needy hands in your hair and teeth catching your lips as you smiled against him, settling your hips onto his lap. It didn't take long for his hands to fall to your waist, squeezing the soft flesh there in a way that made you whine, grinding down onto him ever so slightly.

“God, been thinking about this since I saw you walk into tonight…” he breathed against your collarbone, pressing a sloppy kiss there as you tried to catch your breath. You ran your nails through his hair as he did, and his teeth caught you, biting down and sucking in a deliciously painful way that was sure to leave a mark. It made your hips buck even more, so sensitive after making yourself wait longer than you ever would have for a one night stand, and you could feel him growing hard against you now. He pulled off your soaking top, leaving you in your bra and skirt as your fingers fell to his shirt buttons, deftly undoing them and running your hands over the broad expanse of muscle there. You needed him closer, but even as you pulled his chest against you, it wasn't enough. You needed him inside you.

“You look perfect like this…” he muttered, hands falling to your hips and rocking you back and forth against his length, your core throbbing, and you were already panting with need.

“Nanami…” You could already barely speak, wound up from hours of tension and obsession, needing release, needing something to alleviate the aching that was threatening to tear through you. “I…” The words didn't come, so you moved your hands to his trousers instead, trying to undo the button there but they were shaking. He caught what you were trying to say quickly, gently moving your hands and doing it himself, pulling himself from his boxers. He was bigger than you expected, the tip pink and leaking as it bounced against his stomach. You were impatient, not wanting to undress any more, setting yourself up perfectly above him and pulling your panties to the side. Your core was soaking, so ready for him, but his hands on your hips paused you. One trailed up to your face, holding you by the chin and pulling your lips to his.

“That’s better…” he whispered before releasing you, letting your forehead fall to his before you finally sunk down onto his cock. You both groaned with the feeling, your open mouths meeting briefly as you took more of him into you. The stretch was painful, but in such a perfect way it didn’t matter, and as your lips parted, your breathing got heavy in the small space between you. Your hips met his, and you moaned, feeling so completely and perfectly full. The hands that had settled on your hips moved to your ass and began to guide you up and down, gripping tight as you slowly lifted yourself off, savouring the feeling of him dragging inside your walls. Your arms draped around his neck, pulling him closer as you rode him until you were breathless, your sweat and pants filling the air between you. You were getting close quickly, the angle he was hitting mixed with the way your sensitive clit was grinding against him with every thrust. He was marking you now, hard love bites across your chest that made you whine, the sting delicious, and your hips started to stutter.

“I… oh fuck… I’m close Nanami.” It was electric, every single time he touched you sending you to new level of pleasure and you couldn’t help but moan unabashedly.

“Mhm… I’m close too…. never wanted anything… more than this… fuck…” His ramblings against your chest was enough to send you over the edge, blinding pleasure washing over you in waves as you felt him reach his peak too, hot seed filling you as you tried to catch your breath, body falling limp against his shoulder.

You showered together. Talked some more. Had another drink. Fucked again. He ate you out until you were writhing on the bed, screaming his name. Then you fell asleep with his arm wound tightly around your waist.

You woke up before him. Quietly collected your things and slipped out.

You wanted to leave your number. You really did. But even though you’d only met him a few hours ago, you knew he was the only thing that could keep you in the city. After everything you spoke about, everything you dreamed about with him the night before, you were done with the city. You needed out. You wanted back to your old life.

You had been offered a position at your alma mater a few months back. It was dangerous to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer, so you had declined, but you knew now this way of living was much more deadly.

Maybe that was the reason you had been drawn to him. Maybe he was the push you needed to finally be who you were.

[kimchi-paints]

I love painting Nanami 😏

[ivoreene]

pls take this nanamin WIP ..... unfortunately it is 2am for me so i must sleep

[capricornlevi]

marriage of convenience nanami in which you start off as rivals of sorts, both overworked and underpaid employees of a soulless corporation where you have to fight tooth and nail to succeed.

and that aforementioned fighting results in long, long days in the office, weekends spent toiling away at your desk, countless hours of overtime that keeps you from any semblance of a social life. your rivalry eventually turns into an uneasy alliance -- you see each other more often than you do any other human being, and so agree to keep things civil. friendly, even. this certainly helps when you're sharing the same cramped office space for fourteen hours a day.

it gets to the point where your respective families become gravely concerned. over the holidays, your parents had sat you down and scolded you for what seemed like an eternity, going on and on about how they never see you, how you haven't had a relationship since before college, how it's not healthy to be so obsessed with work.

"what did they expect?" you'd asked nanami -- rhetorically, of course -- while in line for the coffee maker one morning. "they know my career expectations. this is nothing new."

"if it's any consolation, mine are the same," nanami mumbles, filling his mug until it's nearly overflowing. he lifts it, takes a long sip, and asks a question you could have never expected.

"want to tell them that we're together?"

you're glad he was first to reach the coffee maker, because if you were in the middle of taking a sip, you'd likely have choked in front of the entire office.

"what is wrong with you?"

he rolls his eyes at your outrage. "we wouldn't actually be a couple, obviously. we'd just ... tell them we are. show up to an event or two and put on smiling faces. if you wanted to really sell it ... we could get you a ring."

you're certain that the look of your face conveys your utter ... confusion, shock, bewilderment, because nanami clarifies before taking a second sip.

"just a fake one. we could say we eloped over new years, that we couldn't wait any longer. that we're so happy with life we need some time to ourselves as a honeymooning couple."

"you're insane."

"but i have a point."

and you hate to admit it, every cell in your body tells you it's a bad idea, but you think you could get on board.

fake dating could get messy, right? you'd either have to constantly update them on your relationship or fake a breakup, neither would make your life easier.

it's unhinged. it needs a lot of work before you could even consider executing it.

but you find yourself wanting to say yes.

[confused-much]

I deeply relate to Nanami because if I had to choose between an office job and hunting down curses with high possibility of dying I would also choose curses

[vinsportgar]

he wasnt born to work a 9-5 job