Modern AU | Love Triangle | Post-Divorce | Stalker / Obsessive Hiromi Higuruma | Possessive / Controlling Kento Nanami | Dark Romance | Psychological Tension | Tragedy & Suicide | Life Imprisonment
Synopsis: Three months after escaping the chaos of Tokyo, Y/N has rebuilt a quiet, structured life with Nanami on the misty coast of Denmark. The danger feels miles away, the routines are comforting, and the case finally seems closed. But absolute peace is an illusion. At exactly 8:00 AM, a heavy navy envelope bypasses Nanami's fortress—carrying a final, delayed message from Hiromi. Standard procedures won't save them from the ghosts of the past, because even from across the world, a brilliant, broken mind always keeps the final word.
Word Count: ~0.6k
Three months had passed since you left Tokyo for the misty, sea-swept coast of Denmark. True to his promise, Nanami had rebuilt your entire world. Your new home was a masterpiece of minimalist architecture, isolated from the rest of the world, where the rhythmic crashing of the waves replaced the relentless neon rain of Japan.
Nanami had softened. A new, hard-won peace settled into his eyes every time he saw you reading by the fireplace. The structured routines of your life had become a comforting ritual. You thought you were safe. You thought the case was closed.
Then, on a Tuesday morning, at exactly 8:00 AM, a letter arrived.
It hadn't been sent through standard mail. It had been held by a prestigious Tokyo notary firm, under strict instructions to be couriered internationally only after a specific duration of time had lapsed. The envelope was a heavy, dark navy paper. The elegant, slightly trembling cursive script turned your blood to ice before you even broke the wax seal.
Nanami, who was busy preparing tea in the kitchen, noticed the color instantly drain from your face. He set the cup down, his sharp eyes locking onto the paper in your trembling hands. "Darling? What is it?"
You couldn't answer him. Your eyes were already racing across Hiromi's final words.
My dearest love,
The court has handed down its verdict, and I have accepted my sentence. You said I wanted to drag you into the grave with me. You were wrong. I simply wanted us to live. But if my presence condemned you to live in a gilded cage, then I have chosen to adjourn the session permanently.
Monsieur Nanami believes he has won because he bought my debts, my firm, and your future. He thinks life is merely a sequence of numbers that can be erased or replaced. But blood is not ink, and memory is not an asset to be liquidated.
By the time you read these lines, my body will have been found in Courtroom Number 3 of the Tokyo District Court. Right where it all began. I am leaving, but I am not leaving you. Every time you look at that man, every time you attempt to feel entirely happy, you will remember that the price of your freedom was paid with my life. I am ensuring that you can never, ever forget me. I am becoming your eternal case of conscience.
The trial is over, Love. But I keep the final word.
A sudden, sharp chime echoed through the quiet room. Nanami’s phone vibrated on the marble counter, displaying an international news alert from Japan: Prominent former Tokyo defense attorney found dead by suicide in Chiyoda courthouse.
Nanami stepped toward you, his usually unreadable face fracturing with a sudden, rare flash of pure panic. He threw his arms around you, pulling you against his chest with a force that bordered on painful, as if he could physically shield you from the ghost that had just entered the room.
"Do not read it, darling. Do not listen to him," he whispered urgently, his voice trembling for the first time in your memory as he pressed desperate kisses into your hair, trying to anchor you back to his perfect, structured reality. "He lost. We are here. You are mine."
But as you buried your face against Nanami’s chest, you could no longer hear the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. All you could hear, echoing through the cold silence of your perfect sanctuary, was the distant, definitive strike of an iron gavel hitting the wood.
Hiromi had lost the battle. But in taking his own life, he had sentenced your mind to life imprisonment.
And that is the final verdict… Please don't kill me guys, I know this is a devastating ending! Hiromi really decided that if he couldn't have her, he would make sure she could never fully belong to Nanami either… absolute psychological warfare!
This was Part 4 of our 4-chapter mini-series, which means the trial is officially closed. Thank you so much for following this dark journey with me! ♡
Read the full series here
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EARLY MORNINGS AND OVERTIME | Chapter 4: Threats We Cannot See
Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader (fem, first person pov)
Word count: 2280
Fic Summary: A smutty fic in which Nanami Kento brightens up the mundane, flour-dusted life a college dropout working in a bakery.
Chapter Summary: Nanami finds our baker in a scary situation, luckily he is just the person to save the day. And then some.
Warnings: allusion to masturbation, but no smut yet.
Read on AO3. Masterlist.
Please feel free to ask me to correct anything in the above info, this is my first fic and I want to be sure I’m following all fic-posting etiquette. Ty!
A few days have passed since my dinner with Nanami. I wasn't at all surprised when he offered to walk me home. I also wasn't surprised when he lingered by the door until he heard me enter my apartment and click the lock shut. Granted, I don't live in the nicest building... but it's also not the most unsafe. He seems to approach every movement, every decision, and every word he speaks with acute precision and deep concentration. I also wasn't surprised when he walked on the portion of the sidewalk closest to the street, and made sure to hold back any small branch that jutted into the sidewalk from the short trees that lined the street as we walked. He seems to be overly aware of his surroundings at all times, never letting anything catch him (or me) off guard.
Despite it all, I couldn't help but feel foolish by my surprise at one thing. He didn't kiss me goodnight.
It's not like every first date has to end in a kiss, but part of me thought - or maybe just hoped - that he wanted to.
It's now the following Thursday and I've spent every free moment at work in-between rushes staring at the door. Waiting for him to walk in. He's bound to, I tell myself, trying not to lose hope in the man I've already seemed to build up so much in my head.
Although Nanami is all I can think about, I still haven't told my friends about him. I've always felt nervous that if I speak of something going good for me out loud I'll involuntarily jinx it. So I brush the questions aside each time Mei Mei asks about my dating life when picking up her morning latte. Maybe if there's a second date I'll spill.
Both the breakfast rush and the lunch rush have passed, and I still haven't seen the one face I've been wanting to spot walking through the door. Maybe it was all a fluke, and the feeling I felt on Friday didn't mean anything. Just another instance of getting my hopes up.
I seem to do that a lot; get my hopes up. I was overzealous to enroll in university, to commit myself to a job that began as early as 5:30am, to think I stood a chance with someone as put-together as Nanami. I raise my hopes that things will magically work out for me without considering all the factors working against me. Maybe I am stuck in this same routine of early mornings and weekends alone after all.
I hear the familiar chime of the front door and ask "How can I help you?" before fully turning to face the front of the store. I will myself not to get too excited over who may be at the door only to have my hopes let down once again. When I turn, I'm met with nothing, or should I say no one, to answer my question. "Hello?" I ask aloud, but no reply. I shrug and turn back to refilling the fragrant coffee beans atop the espresso machine, thinking nothing of it. Maybe I'm so desperate to see Nanami walk through that door that I've imagined the sound of the bell chime. I really wouldn't be surprised if I heard that noise in my sleep at this point.
The unmistakable harsh sound of glass shattering on the floor makes me jump. "HELLO?" I instinctively shout this time, tucking my shoulders up to my ears and wincing in fear as I slowly turn to face the source of the noise. "WHO'S THERE?" Again, I'm met with no one.
A large glass jar that once held macaroons in a display by the window has toppled. Maybe it was too close to the edge and gravity took it down? I try to convince myself it's nothing. I hurry to grab the broom from the back office and turn to walk back to the storefront but immediately stop in my tracks. In the short moment it took me to retrieve the broom every glass jar in the window display has been dropped to the floor. The broom slipped from my hands and clatters to the hardwood floor. There must be someone in here with me.
Without thinking I bolt for the front door, not caring I'd be leaving the bakery unstaffed. I have to get out.
With full force I shove my arms out in front of me to get ahold of the door, only for it to open from the outside at that exact moment. I see nothing but a blur of blonde hair and grey clothing. Nanami. We collide but do not fall, instead his hands brace the sides of my shoulders while he firmly holds me out arms-length away. Looking down at my frantic face, he does not hide any looks of concern on his own. "What ha-" is all he could ask before his eyes tick to the left and latch on to something in the shop. I follow his gaze but can't seem to find the source of his attention - all I see is an empty store littered with broken glass.
"Get behind me. Now," are his next words, low and demanding. And maybe even a hint of anger? I do as he says, one of his hands still braced out in front of me like a guard as I swivel around his body, as if just one hand alone could shield all of me from whatever it is he sees. What is it? Is it that much of a threat that he's shielding me with his own body like this?
No one has ever broken into or robbed the bakery before - but is that even what this is? This feels... unnatural. Did someone tamper with the glass to make it all break at once? How would that even be possible?
I can barely see in front of me while standing behind Nanami. His tall, muscular build blocks nearly all of my view.
"I want you to close your eyes," he demands in an even, controlled voice.
Scared and unsure of what else to do, I obey.
With my ears perked, I squeeze my eyes shut and stay crouched in place, still sensing Nanami directly in front of me. What is he doing? What's his plan?
The crack of another jar hitting the floor makes my spine straighten. This time the sound came from the direction of the register, as if it's circling us. Who's doing this?
I feel Nanami shift on his feet in front of me, like he's finding his balance for a fighting stance. Or is it a defensive stance? Either way, he's putting himself between me and whatever is wrecking the shop.
Suddenly, as quickly as the noise and destruction began, silence falls and I feel Nanami ease from his stance.
I slowly begin to open my eyes, nervous of what I might see. Or not see in this case. I pull my hands away from my face only to realize they're trembling.
"Hey, look at me! Are you okay?" Nanami is holding my shoulders in his hands again, like he did when we first collided. Due to the height difference he looks downward at me. He scans my face as if he's examining me, like he needs to inspect every part of my body to determine whether I'm alright. It's frantic, the way his shifting eyes loop from the top of my head, to my wrist, back up to my shoulder, then down my chest to my waist, and legs, before finally rising back up to meet my eyes. It's almost distracting how... intimate his stare feels.
"Yes, I'm fine. Just... confused is all. I was really scared before you showed up." I admitted without caring how it may make me sound.
"Lucky for us I happened to be hungry for lunch at this time," he replied. For us?
"Thanks. Although, I'm not really sure what you did here," I say while gesturing to our general vicinity. He didn't reply to that. Instead he stared at the floor next to me, deep in thought as if he was debating what to say next. One hand still on my shoulder as the other covered the lower half of his face, pushing the frames of his glasses up slightly. I've never seen him look this conflicted or tense.
"There are things you cannot see, or understand, that pose a danger to you. To everyone."
"What are you talking about? Are you alright?" I ask dumbfounded. I can't explain what I saw, or didn't see, earlier, but he's not making any sense.
"I- I've said too much," he stammers, shaking his head. He begins to once scan my face with a pained look in his eye, as if searching for a way to take back my memory of what was said.
"What do you mean? What's going on? What are these things I can't s-" I'm incapable of finishing my sentence before his tall figure leans forward, his hands glide from my shoulders to the sides of my face, and suddenly his mouth is on mine. The kiss is suffocating, but in the best way. There's no room for air, no room for questions, no room for even thinking. There's just him.
The tension in my neck and shoulders relax and I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding in, causing my mouth to open just a bit wider. His widens in response, taking the opportunity to trail the tip of his tongue along my lips. The juxtaposing brute force of his mouth paired with the gentle caress of his tongue makes my head spin. Nearly forgetting I have a body attached to my head I begin to raise my arms, joining my hands behind his head and partially tangling my fingers in the soft hair at the base of his neck. The movement causes our bodies to be pressed closer together, my hips aligned just below his.
I feel one of his forearms braced tightly against my lower back, the other cradling the back of my head. My back arches into his hold and I feel my upper half begin to lean back. The hold he has on me is strong enough to keep me standing. If my knees were to give out I wouldn't drop an inch. I spend what feels like seconds or an eternity letting him dominate the kiss, allowing myself to be propped in his arm.
Then, shifting my weight to my toes, I rise up to press my mouth deeper into his kiss. I want to return the urgency and show him this is all I've wanted since we met. As soon as I begin to slide my tongue past my lips and against his own he halts.
Arms now dropped to his sides, he says just three sentences I trust to be facts: "I can't stay any longer," "You're safe here," and "I'll be back," and walks out the door.
Later that night, sleep feels like an impossible task. I keep running the events of today through my head over and over again. The sound of glass shattering, the perfect timing at which Nanami arrived before I could flee the store, and that kiss. I could still feel the warmth of his body towering over mine, the soft strands of his hair tangled between my fingers, and the desperate prying of his mouth against mine. Warmth pools in my core at the memory and I welcome the sensation. His kiss was more than passionate, it was urgent. To feel so held and protected after cowering in fear just moments earlier had my heart racing twice as fast in the moment. Did I enjoy the danger? Or perhaps the relief he provided me from it?My knees shift apart at the thought and my dominant hand works its way down my stomach as if in answer. I dip my fingertips beneath the hem of my underwear, ready to begin circling the now aching bud between my legs. I can't stop thinking about that kiss.
His kiss was all-encompassing, time-stopping, and... the perfect distraction. The sudden realization hits and I freeze, yanking my hand back.
A distraction. Is that what this kiss was? Memories of him explaining how he healed my wrist with a simple distraction over dinner come flooding back and I feel like the floor is pulled out from underneath me. What was the true reason he kissed me? I felt lightheaded and foolish and naive, sweat begins to prick my upper lip.
Even if he did only kiss me as a distraction to what transpired in the shop, what was he trying to distract me from? Why did he claim he 'said too much'? Did I even want to know?
My thoughts raced and sleep continued to feel impossible. I began to negotiate with my own thoughts. He said he'd be back, but when? What will he say then? I already know for a fact he's a man of few words... As the clock pushes forward another hour closer to my alarm I try to settle my lingering nerves. I don't care if I never find out what happened today, I just want to see him again.
.........
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Thank you for reading! I've never written, let alone posted, anything like this before so it feels fun to challenge myself and step outside my comfort zone. Message me to be added to my taglist so you can get notified when I post the next chapter, or subscribe to this series on AO3. :)
Modern AU | Love Triangle | Post-Divorce | Stalker / Obsessive Hiromi Higuruma | Possessive / Controlling Kento Nanami | Dark Romance | Psychological Tension | Penthouse Infiltration | Mental Collapse
Synopsis: Trapped inside the sterile fortress of Nanami's penthouse, Y/N believes the danger is contained—until the power cuts out, plunging her world into pitch-black terror. Hiromi has bypassed security, and stripped of his legal license, he has absolutely nothing left to lose. Y/N is forced to deliver a heartbreaking final verdict to stop the madness... but as Nanami prepares their sudden escape to Denmark, they have no idea that a brilliant, broken mind always has one last card to play.
Word Count: ~1.7k
The air on the twenty-fourth floor of Nanami’s luxury high-rise was thin, sterile, and quiet. For three days, you had not stepped outside. You hadn't needed to. Nanami had restructured your entire world within the perimeter of his penthouse. Groceries were delivered by private couriers; your resignation had been processed with a massive severance package funded directly from Nanami’s personal account; and the windows, thick and tinted, looked out over a Tokyo that felt miles away.
"You're pacing, Darling," Nanami said, his voice cutting through the soft jazz playing from the hidden wall speakers.
He was sitting at his mahogany desk in the corner of the living room, a mountain of financial ledgers spread before him. He had stopped going to his corporate office entirely, choosing to manage his multi-million yen portfolio from home to ensure he was never more than ten feet away from you.
"I feel like a prisoner, Kento" you whispered, pressing your forehead against the cool glass of the window. Down below, the city lights blinked like a distant galaxy.
Nanami stood up, smooth and deliberate, walking across the hardwood floor. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling your back flush against his broad, solid chest. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.
"Not a prisoner. A treasure. The world outside is chaotic, unregulated, and dangerous. Here, I can control the variables. Here, I can guarantee that nothing harms you."
"And Hiromi?" you asked, your voice trembling. "What about him?"
Nanami’s grip tightened around your waist, just enough to let you know his displeasure at the mention of the name.
"Mister Higuruma is currently facing an internal review by the Bar Association. I spent the last seventy-two hours liquidating my shares in three major media conglomerates to buy the debt of the firm representing his oversight committee. By tomorrow morning, his license to practice law will be suspended indefinitely. I am stripping him of his armor, piece by piece."
He kissed the side of your neck, a firm, possessive mark.
"He will have no power left to reach you, darling. I have balanced the ledger."
But Nanami, for all his brilliant calculations, had made one fatal error. He assumed Higuruma Hiromi cared about the law. He assumed Hiromi cared about his career.
He didn't realize that to a man who had already looked into the abyss, losing his license wasn't a punishment—it was a liberation from the last thread holding his sanity together.
At exactly 11:45 PM, the lights in the penthouse flickered, buzzed, and died.
The jazz music cut off instantly, plunging the massive space into a suffocating, pitch-black silence. The only illumination came from the grey moonlight filtering through the panoramic windows.
Nanami was on his feet in a fraction of a second. He didn't panic. He reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a heavy, matte-black handgun—a weapon he had never shown you, but one he kept immaculate, like everything else he owned.
"Stay behind me," Nanami ordered, his voice dropping into a lethal, hushed register. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you behind his back as he faced the main entrance of the penthouse. "The backup generators should have kicked in within three seconds. The main grid has been manually bypassed from the building's basement."
Before you could process the terror rising in your throat, the heavy, electronic lock of the penthouse door let out a mechanical whine. The deadbolts slid back, one by one, with agonizingly slow clicks.
The door swung open.
Standing in the frame, backlit by the dim emergency lights of the hallway, was Hiromi. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket anymore. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, soaked with rain, clinging to his skin. In his right hand, he wasn't holding a briefcase, or a subpoena. He was holding a heavy, rusted iron gavel—the one from his old office desk—and a master keycard dripping with rainwater.
"The security system in this building is top-tier, Nanami," Hiromi said, his voice echoing in the dark apartment. It was a raspy, breathless sound, completely devoid of the professional veneer he usually maintained. He sounded like a ghost. "But every system has a backdoor if you know which judge signed the building permits. I used to review the zoning laws for this entire district, you know."
"You are trespassing on private property," Nanami said, raising the firearm, pointing it directly at Hiromi’s chest. His stance was perfect, unyielding. "I am legally authorized to use lethal force to protect my household. Step back into the elevator, or I will end this negotiation permanently."
Hiromi didn't look at the gun. He didn't care about the threat of death. His dark, hollow eyes bypassed Nanami entirely, locking onto you where you cowered behind the corporate giant’s shoulder. A soft, devastatingly tender smile broke across his pale face.
"I heard about the Bar Association, love," Hiromi whispered, taking a slow step forward into the penthouse. The wet soles of his shoes squeaked against the expensive wood. "They took my badge. They took my cases. They think they’ve ruined me. But they don't understand... the law was just the cage I built to keep myself from screaming. Now that they’ve broken the cage, there’s nothing left keeping me from you."
"Hiromi, please, go away!" you cried out, tears spilling down your cheeks. "You’re insane! Look at what you’re doing!"
"I am looking at what I’m doing," he replied softly, his voice cracking with a terrifying mixture of devotion and madness. "I’m bringing my wife home. This man... this broker... he’s turned your life into a spreadsheet. He has guards at your door, cameras in your hallway. He treats you like a risk to be mitigated. That’s not love, love. That’s custody. I’m here to grant you a mistrial."
"Silence," Nanami commanded, his finger tightening on the trigger. "You will not speak to her again."
Hiromi let out a dark, ragged laugh, taking another step forward. "Shoot me then, Nanami. Do it in front of her. Balance your ledger with my blood. Let her watch you become a killer just to keep her in your neat, little, sterile box."
The tension in the room was a physical weight, thick enough to suffocate. Nanami’s jaw was set so tight a muscle leaped in his cheek. He was a man of absolute order, but Hiromi was pure, unadulterated chaos, dragging him into the mud. Nanami knew that if he pulled the trigger, the legal fallout would destroy the life he had built for you. If he didn't, Hiromi would never stop.
Seeing Nanami’s slight hesitation, Hiromi raised the iron gavel, his eyes snapping with a sudden, wild intensity as he prepared to lunge forward.
You knew you had to end it.
Stepping out from behind Nanami’s protective shadow, you forced yourself into the space between them. Nanami gasped, trying to pull you back, but you stood your ground, looking directly into the shattered eyes of your ex-husband.
"Hiromi," you said, your voice shaking but loud enough to cut through the darkness. "Look at me."
Hiromi froze, the gavel hovering in the air. His gaze searched your face, desperate for a shred of the woman he used to know. "Love..."
"It’s over," you said, the words cutting through the air like a final sentence. "The marriage didn't die because of your job, Hiromi. It died because you let the darkness win. And now, you’re trying to drag me into the grave with you. I don't love you anymore. I love Kento. He doesn't cage me; he keeps me safe from you."
Hiromi stared at you, his chest heaving. The words seemed to hit him with the force of a physical blow. The manic spark in his eyes flickered, replaced by a profound, agonizing emptiness. The gavel in his hand slipped from his fingers, clattering loudly against the floor.
"You... you love him?" he whispered, his voice incredibly small, like a child lost in the dark.
"I do," you said, stepping back into Nanami’s embrace. Nanami immediately wrapped his arms around you, his large hand resting on the back of your head, pressing you against his chest, shielding you from the sight of your ex-husband's final collapse.
Hiromi stood there for a long moment, the rain from his clothes dripping onto the floor, mixing with the shadows. He looked down at his empty hands, then up at you, hidden away in Nanami's arms. The realization that he had truly, irrevocably lost you finally settled into his brilliant, broken mind.
"A verdict..." Hiromi murmured, a ghost of a smile touching his lips, entirely devoid of life. "The court... has reached its decision. No grounds for appeal."
Without another word, he turned around, his movements sluggish, heavy with the weight of absolute defeat. He walked back into the dark hallway, his shadow stretching out before disappearing into the elevator. The heavy penthouse door slowly drifted shut, the electronic lock clicking into place with a definitive, final beep.
The silence returned, but this time, it was no longer tense. It was over.
A moment later, the backup generators groaned to life. The lights hummed, flickering back on, bathing the penthouse in warm, golden illumination. The jazz music resumed, soft and sweet, as if the nightmare had never occurred.
Nanami slowly put the gun back into his pocket. He didn't ask if you were okay; he knew you weren't. He simply lifted you into his arms, carrying you over to the sofa, sitting down and holding you tightly against his lap.
He didn't speak of Hiromi. He didn't speak of the law or the mess on the floor. He simply stroked your hair with a steady, unhurried hand, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw over and over again until your breathing finally synchronized with his.
"It is 12:05 AM," Nanami whispered into your hair, his voice the absolute epitome of calm, structured reality. "The threat has been removed from the market, darling. The boundaries are secure. Tomorrow, we will sell this property and move to Denmark. I have already bought the estate. There are no lawyers there. No past. Just us, and a schedule that belongs entirely to you."
You closed your eyes, burying your face in his expensive cedarwood-scented shirt, letting the predictable, rhythmic beating of his heart wash over you. The world outside was still raining, still chaotic, and still broken—but inside Nanami’s arms, the ledger was finally balanced... Or not ?
And that’s the final verdict... or is it?
Please don't kill me guys, I know this feels like a definitive ending, but I promise you... THIS IS NOT THE END!!!
Likes are really appreciated and reblogs are what keep this blog alive. If you enjoyed this please consider sharing! (っ˘ω˘ς )♡
Modern AU | Love Triangle | Post-Divorce | Stalker / Obsessive Hiromi Higuruma | Protective Kento Nanami | Dark Romance | Psychological Tension | Abuse of Power | Corporate
Synopsis: Hiromi’s psychological siege turns into a calculated ambush when he abuses his legal authority to bypass security, trapping Y/N alone at her desk with terrifying proof that he’s been watching her every move.
But Nanami breaks through the trap with a freezing, lethal fury, turning the quiet corporate office into a battleground of sheer dominance. Forced into hiding by an increasingly possessive Nanami, Y/N is now the ultimate prize in a ruthless war of attrition. As Hiromi’s sanity frays to a dangerous edge, he prepares one final, devastating appeal—and this time, the law won't be enough to save them.
Word Count: ~1.7k
The transition from a passive threat to an active siege happened with the cold, calculated precision of an audit.
For two weeks following the incident in the rain, Nanami transformed your life into an impenetrable fortress. Every morning began exactly the same way: the quiet murmur of the news on the television, the scent of perfectly brewed coffee, and Nanami sitting across from you, his eyes scanning a security briefing on his tablet before he even looked at his breakfast.
"Eat your eggs, Darling," Nanami said softly, his voice a smooth, grounding balm against the low-humming anxiety that had taken up permanent residence in your chest. "You’ve lost half a kilo since last Tuesday. I am monitoring your caloric intake, and this level of stress is unacceptable."
You picked up your fork, staring at the perfectly poached eggs. "Kento, the men outside the office... colleagues are starting to ask questions. They look like private military, not standard guards."
Nanami didn't look up from his tablet. He reached across the table, his large, warm hand covering yours with a firm, unyielding pressure.
"Let them ask. Your colleagues do not pay for your safety; I do. The three men stationed at your building’s entrance are vetted professionals. They have strict orders to neutralize any unauthorized contact before it reaches your floor. You don't need to worry about the logistics, Darling. You only need to focus on breathing, eating, and letting me carry the weight."
He spoke of your safety the way a high-level executive spoke of risk management—devoid of panic, completely controlled, and utterly absolute. To Nanami, you were the only variable in his life that he refused to let depreciate. He had calculated the cost of your ex-husband’s obsession, and he was prepared to spend whatever it took to balance the ledger in his favor.
But Higuruma Hiromi did not play by the rules of corporate finance. He played by the rules of human ruin.
The trap sprang on a Thursday afternoon.
You were in the middle of sorting through archival court cases for your firm’s senior partner when the landline on your desk rang. It wasn't the external line—it was the internal intercom from the front desk.
"Hey," the receptionist’s voice sounded strained, a strange, breathless quality to it. "We have a bit of a situation up here. There’s a... legal representative from the Tokyo District Prosecutor’s Office. He has a subpoena for your personal testimony regarding an ongoing investigation. He’s already past the security desk downstairs."
Your blood ran cold. "What investigation? I haven't done anything."
"He says it’s a conflict of interest audit regarding Nanami Kento’s former investment firm. He... he has the badges, the paperwork, everything. The guards downstairs couldn't legally stop him without committing a federal offense."
Before you could even form a response, the heavy glass doors of your department swung open.
The three private security guards Nanami had hired stepped backward into the room, their hands hovering near their jackets, their faces tight with suppressed rage. Walking calmly between them, entirely unbothered by the implicit threat of violence, was Hiromi.
He looked thinner than he had eight months ago. His dark suit, while expensive, hung slightly loose on his broad shoulders, and the dark circles beneath his eyes looked like permanent bruises against his pale skin. Yet, his gaze was terrifyingly sharp. The moment his eyes found you sitting in your cubicle, the exhaustion vanished from his face, replaced by a sudden, manic warmth.
"Good afternoon," Hiromi said, his voice carrying clearly across the quiet office. He didn't look at the guards. He walked straight toward your desk, pulling a thick, blue leather folder from his briefcase. "I apologize for the disruption. But justice rarely waits for a convenient hour."
"Hiromi," you whispered, your voice shaking as you stood up, backing away until your spine hit the filing cabinet. "You can't be here. Nanami—"
"Nanami Kento is currently being detained at his own office by a surprise tax and compliance audit," Hiromi interrupted smoothly, resting both hands on the edge of your desk. He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, intimate purr that only you could hear. "I filed the motion myself at four this morning. By the time his lawyers sort through the red tape, it will be evening. We have time, Love."
"This is abuse of power," you hissed, tears of anger pricking the corners of your eyes. "You’re using your position to harass me!"
Hiromi smiled, a slow, tragic expression that didn't reach his hollow eyes. He reached out, his long, pale fingers brushing against the edge of your computer monitor, just inches away from your hand.
"Harassment is such an ugly, unobjective word," he murmured, his gaze tracing every line of your face with a desperate, starving intensity. "I am simply conducting a thorough investigation. When you left me, Love, you left a void in my system. The law requires balance. Every day I wake up in that empty apartment, the silence is a verdict of guilty. I am simply trying to appeal the sentence."
He opened the blue folder, revealing pages upon pages of photographs. They weren't photos of Nanami’s corporate filings. They were photos of you.
You walking to the grocery store. You sitting on the balcony of Nanami’s apartment. You sleeping in the passenger seat of Nanami’s car, your face illuminated by the dashboard light.
"Look at how thin you’ve become," Hiromi whispered, his voice cracking slightly, revealing the raw, bleeding fracture in his sanity. "He keeps you like a caged bird in that high-rise. He measures your life in hours and minutes. He doesn't love you, Y/N. He manages you. He treats you like a portfolio. Come back to the mess. Come back to the chaos. At least with me, you were alive."
"She was alive, Mister Higuruma, because she was not drowning in your self-pity."
The voice came from the doorway, cold, heavy, and dripping with an absolute promise of violence.
Hiromi didn't flinch. He slowly stood up to his full height, turning around to face the entrance of the office.
Nanami stood there. His tie was slightly loosened—the first time you had ever seen a single thread out of place on his person. His signature glasses were pushed up his nose, and his chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate breaths. He had clearly run through the city rain to get here, his coat damp, his leather shoes marking the floor with wet prints.
"You’re early," Hiromi noted calmly, closing the blue folder with a soft thud. "The auditors were instructed to keep you until six."
"I bought the auditing firm three years ago through a subsidiary," Nanami said, walking into the room with a slow, predatory stride. The three private guards instantly moved behind him, forming a wall of muscle. "It took me exactly twelve minutes to identify the forged signature on your motion, have the lead auditor fired, and clear my desk."
Nanami stopped exactly two feet from Hiromi. The contrast between them was staggering: Nanami, a pillar of immaculate, ruthless corporate authority; Hiromi, a brilliant mind fraying at the edges, fueled by nothing but nicotine, regret, and obsession.
"You have crossed a boundary," Nanami said, his voice dropping into a register that made the glass partitions of the office vibrate. He didn't look at you; his eyes were locked onto Hiromi’s. "You used a federal badge to intimidate my woman. You entered her place of work. You threatened her peace."
"She is my wife," Hiromi said, his jaw tightening, his voice losing its calm legal detachment for the first time. A dark, dangerous energy seemed to simmer around him. "A piece of paper finalized by a corrupt court doesn't erase five years of history, Nanami. You are an interloper in our tragedy."
"I am her present," Nanami countered, stepping even closer, his shadow completely swallowing Hiromi’s smaller frame. "And I will be her future. If you drop so much as a shadow near her again, I will not use the law. I will dismantle your reputation, I will freeze every asset you possess, and if that does not suffice, I will personally ensure you are removed from the streets of this city."
Hiromi let out a sharp, breathless laugh, his eyes widening with a manic spark. "Is that a physical threat, Monsieur Nanami? In front of witnesses?"
Nanami slowly reached up, taking off his glasses and tucking them into his breast pocket. Without the lenses, his eyes were terrifying—devoid of human warmth, filled with the cold, calculating cruelty of a man who dealt in human lives and numbers every day.
"It is not a threat," Nanami whispered, leaning down so only Hiromi could hear the finality in his words. "It is a market correction. And you are a bad investment."
Nanami turned his back on Hiromi, completely dismissing his existence, and walked over to your desk. He reached out, his large hands lifting you gently by the waist, pulling you out from behind the desk and tucking you firmly against his side.
"We are leaving, Darling," Nanami said softly into your hair, his voice instantly reverting to that gentle, protective baritone. "You will not be returning to this office. Your resignation will be filed by my legal team tonight."
As Nanami guided you out of the room, his arm wrapped so tightly around your waist that you could feel the rhythmic, steady thumping of his heart, you looked back over your shoulder.
Hiromi hadn't moved. He stood by your empty desk, holding the blue folder against his chest like a shield. The rain outside the window lashed against the glass, casting long, cage-like shadows across his pale face.
He didn't try to stop you. Instead, he raised two fingers to his temple in a mock salute, his lips moving silently as he watched you disappear into the elevator with Nanami.
I’ll see you in court, Love.
Things are definitely heating up! I had a blast writing this face-off between them, and I really hope you enjoyed the intensity of this chapter! ♡
We are officially halfway through the trial—Part 3 is coming up next, so stay tuned to see how Nanami handles this "market correction"!
Likes are really appreciated and reblogs are what keep this blog alive. If you enjoyed this please consider sharing! (っ˘ω˘ς )♡
EARLY MORNINGS AND OVERTIME | Chapter 3: Nanami's POV
Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader (fem, first person pov)
Word count: 1873
Fic Summary: A smutty fic in which Nanami Kento brightens up the mundane, flour-dusted life a college dropout working in a bakery.
Chapter Summary: That Day from Nanami's pov.
Warnings: None yet.
Read on AO3. Masterlist.
Please feel free to ask me to correct anything in the above info, this is my first fic and I want to be sure I’m following all fic-posting etiquette. Ty!
11 am. That day.
Phone calls with angry clients. Emails with angry clients. More calls. More clients. Still angry.
Pacing back and forth in the cramped office kitchen waiting for the coffee to brew. More emails. Another call, this time with a not so happy investor.
Checking the clock. Still waiting for that coffee. Still only sticking around in this job for the money.
I lean back in my chair and drum my fingers atop my nearly bare desk, resting my chin in the palm of my other hand. If I quit now, I begin to muse, I'd have saved up enough to last me a few years before needing to find work elsewhere. No, I wouldn't want to return at all. I need to wait longer so I can be out for good. Though I don't know how much longer I can take...
Check the clock again, it's 11:50am. The slightest twinge of excitement escapes through the deafening exhaustion in my brain: it's almost lunch.
I figure I'll grant myself the short break to think it over and come back to my desk with a clear mind.
I rise and sling the grey jacket of my suit back on, pushing my chair in and quickly making way for the elevator. It's Friday and my usual spot for lunch has stopped selling my go-to, so I ought to try somewhere new. Perhaps it wouldn't kill me to buy from an actual bakery, it's not like I can't afford to stray from my usual convenience store.
The walk isn't far, but I take the time to consider my options, consider my future.
All I want is to live life on my own time, without distraction from work or other people's problems. Everywhere I look, all I see are problems. Money problems, loneliness, or even worse, all the problems cursed energy brings. I try to shut it out and stick to myself. I tell myself that's not my job anymore.
I spot the bakery ahead and the negative thoughts begin to clear from my mind. To put it plainly: food makes me happy, it's one of the simplest pleasures I enjoy. I can't help but at least briefly forget the problems of the world when I'm about to take a bite out of a favorite meal.
I pull the door open and step inside, briskly walking to the register eager to begin my lunch. Impatient, I clear my throat to signal I'm ready to pay - only to be met with a reminder of why I was so desperate to clear my head in the first place. Tilting my head to get a better view, I see it clear as day: a fly head curse wrapped around the woman at the register's wrist. In an effort to ignore it, I avert my eyes, only to meet hers.
She's a few years younger than me, though I immediately recognize the familiar look captured in her eyes. The look of someone who's tired, overworked, and waiting on the clock to crawl forward. There's something else in her eyes, though, almost a bit of wonder. Is that aimed at me?
"Just the sandwich, please," I say while taking out my wallet, trying not to stare. There's no denying she has a pretty face, a beauty that appears effortless or natural, even when overtired from what I imagine was a long week of work. How one person can manage to look so charming even when carrying around the weight of a fly head I have no idea.
I notice she looks to the side before she speaks again, as if she has to look away to concentrate on what she's going to say next. She asks if I'd like a receipt and I decline, still watching over her pretty features and beginning to feel badly she has to work with that extra weight on her wrist. I'm usually better at ignoring this... there's just something about her expression. I can almost feel a sense of silent, shared exhaustion between us. I'm sure she works just as hard as I do, and she does it with a curse hanging off her body, and yet here she is smiling up at me when I'm just a customer who makes her day even busier.
I can barely make it to noon on a Friday without threatening to quit.
I turn to walk away only to hear her voice call out behind me, "come again please."
With that request, something clicks. I pause as I reach the door. I tell myself these next words are based not only off of my attraction to her, but also out of a want to help someone whose work actually means something. It wouldn't cause me any harm to remove that fly head... in fact, I'm sure helping her live a more comfortable life would end up positively benefitting a lot of other people in return. Her work brings sorry people like me even a fleeting moment of joy. "Thank you. I will," is all I say.
The rest of the afternoon I couldn't shake the thought of returning to the bakery. Not returning next week when I'd order another lunch, or even Monday morning when it would open again. I had to return today. But how do I just reappear to secretly exorcise a weak cursed spirit? I'd look ridiculous to the non-sorcerer eye. There needs to be another reason for my return. I could use the situation to my advantage and ask her out to dinner... It's a pretty selfish solution, I'll admit, but the excitement and nerves building up in my stomach at just the thought were confirmation enough. She had a certain glow about her despite the clear exhaustion of her work, I can only imagine how she'd clean up for a proper date.
It's decided then, I'll offer to give my help over dinner.
6 pm. That day.
I arrive at the door at 6pm as promised, with her appearing only a few seconds later. My prediction was correct - having changed from her flour-dusted work attire to a much less casual ensemble made her beauty bloom. Seeing her round the corner in a perfectly fitted dress and heels I had to hide a smile, she must have matched her attire to fit the occasion of my own.
After introducing ourselves I turn to lead the way, excited to share my favorite steakhouse with my date. I answer her question about where we're headed by stating I'd assume that she'd prefer to spend dinner somewhere totally different from a bakery.
"What's the opposite of baked goods? A sushi bar?" I catch her eye as she asked this question, and I see a gleam of excitement and joy that hadn't yet presented itself in the short time I'd known her. She looked so eager and somehow already grateful... I wanted this happiness to last. Sushi it was then.
"Now you've guessed right. It's just around the corner here," I answer while internally sighing in relief for knowing a sushi bar nearby. It's one I used to frequent in the evenings before work began to keep me at the office too late on a regular basis.
As suspected, the hostess recognizes me straight away and we're seated in my former usual spot. Sitting face to face with my date now, I can't help but stare.
She has her hair pulled back, accentuating her cheekbones and putting each beautiful feature of her face on full display. Full lips, long curled lashes, and an ability to stare at me with eyes that will me to hold eye contact without breaking.
"So, how exactly do you plan to heal the ache in my wrist, Not Dr. Nanami?"
I guess she wastes no time in getting to the point. I don't blame her, considering I'm still a stranger and all... I chuckle at the thought of how selfish this entire idea was of me once again. Taking advantage of a curse as an excuse to share a meal with someone this beautiful? I have to laugh.
I reply to her question with the the truth: that I'll distract her while I swat this weak curse away and heal the soreness. Though I wasn't expecting to do this so soon... I need to think fast on how to create a proper distraction.
In the brief time I've known her I have noticed her tendency to look away while deep in thought. I'm counting on my observation to hold true when I blurt out, "Why don't you tell me three things about yourself, and when you're done I'll do the same."
At first she's taken aback, but just as I suspected she instinctively turns her head to the side while deep in thought, searching for a response to my proposition. Now's my chance.
I raise my right hand just a few inches above the table, keeping it low enough not to catch any attention. With fingers aimed at the pesky green fly head I flick my wrist with a snap, sending it flying and disintegrating in thin air.
She doesn't get the chance to finish even the second item about herself before feeling a difference. I smile and ease up in my seat. She looks so pretty with that hint of amusement in her eye. I feel myself hungry for more... more of her expressive eyes staring up at me, pleasured and thankful.
It hasn't even been an hour and I'm enjoying her company more than I expected. Did I hear her say she likes to cook earlier? I want to keep hearing more about her...
"So you never finished," I offer as a means to continue the conversation.
As she shares more about herself I find myself relaxing more each second, soaking up just how comfortable I feel in this moment. I'm not worried about the problems of those around me, I'm not worried about watching the clock or wishing time would pass - for the first time in a long time I'm actually wishing for the opposite.
"So you stay out of people's business, and yet here you are providing unsolicited help to me along with asking me to describe details about myself over dinner?" she asks. I barely let out an audible laugh at the way she worded this - a fair question no doubt.
"Both of those things are correct, yes," was all I let up in my response. I could never tell her the true explanation behind this date, the way I used a weak cursed spirit to my advantage. I'd sound beyond unbelievable and absurd.
We continued to play slightly coy and stare back at one another, enjoying the solitude of each other's company. By the time our meals were finished and the check arrived it felt as if the day I experienced this morning and evening I'm experiencing right now were a part of two entirely different years. Can meeting just one person make such a difference?
I closed server's book with the signed check inside and stood to pull out her chair. "Shall we?" I ask while lifting my forearm for her to hold on to as she stood. "How about I walk you home?"
.........
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EARLY MORNINGS AND OVERTIME | Chapter 1: Lots of Dough
Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader (fem, first person pov)
Word count: 2250
Summary: A smutty fic in which Nanami Kento brightens up the mundane, flour-dusted life a college dropout working in a bakery.
Notes: I've been reading a lot of romance lately and am feeling nostalgic for the days I worked in a bake shop. I also got a new computer and like to type so here we are. Also, a newfound JJK obsession is to blame.
Also, I know this isn't necessarily a fic blog but since I'm trying things out I thought I'd publish this story here before creating a separate blog. :)
Warnings: None yet.
Read on AO3.
Masterlist.
Please feel free to ask me to correct anything in the above info, this is my first fic and I want to be sure I'm following all fic-posting etiquette. Ty!
5 am. Any day.
I hated mornings. I was convinced there was nothing that could ever make me like mornings. Not the smell of freshly brewed espresso on my perfectly timed coffeemaker, and certainly not the alarm that jolted me awake each day at 5am to make it to work on time. I begin every weekday at the bakery at 5:30am, making five o'clock the latest I could possibly wake up without arriving late. A swipe of mascara and a dab of lip stain was all I had time for before I was out the door. No time to consume more than my espresso, though breakfast was always on the house once I clocked in.
From 5:30am until 7:30am I carried trays of raw dough back and forth from the bakery kitchen to the oven, making sure each and every croissant, pastry, and loaf of bread was freshly baked before our opening at 8:00am. Then from 8:00am until 10:30am I served hungry, rushing, tired, and overworked folks of all ages trying to bring even a fleeting taste of happiness to their day before sitting down to their desks. Once the breakfast rush was done I restocked our breads in anticipation of our lunch hustle. The lunchtime rush was my favorite part of each day because it meant I could almost go home. At least, that used to be why it was my favorite.
5 am. That day.
Shit. Why did I hit snooze that second time. With one shoe on and the other dragging by the strap around my left ankle I ran for the door. I really need to start going to bed earlier. Ah, who am I kidding, I know even that wont make a difference to how tired I am in the morning.
The door to my apartment slams closed behind me and I'm on my way. I power walk the five blocks to the bakery and clock in with seconds to spare. Wiping the sweat from my brow and holding my timecard between my teeth I begin tying my apron behind my back. No time to waste on Friday, we are always the most busy the last day of the workweek. Most folks get a surge of energy knowing they've almost made it to the weekend, I feel nothing but exhaustion having pushed through the four days prior.
As usual I carry my trays of dough back and forth, and as usual my wrist strains under the weight of the metal sheet pans. It has gotten worse lately, almost as if the trays are heavier. Am I that out of shape? Even an assortment of unbaked croissants cause my forearm to cramp?
Sighing and squaring my shoulders, I turn my back to the oven so I can make my way to the counter and ready the cash register. Our first regular of the day is due to arrive any moment now. I guess at this point I shouldn't call her a regular, she's actually become my friend.
As if on cue, the front bell chimes and a swift gust of wind flows into the shop, as if mother nature herself is carrying my friend through the door and across the shop. She's always on the move and yet a strand of hair is never out of place. She makes a few fast, aggressive taps on her phone before throwing it back in her purse and looking up at me - all while striding across the shop like it's a runway. Her mouth curves into a smile as her eyes meet mine, "IT'S FRIDAY!" she sings.
"Thank god for that," I grumble but can't help to grin behind the register.
"That's the spirit," she leans against the counter balancing a shiny credit card between her index and middle finger. "You know what I'm here for."
"Coming right up - and you know I won't make you pay on Fridays. Can't make a girl pay on her favorite day of the week." I swat her hand away and turn to brew her espresso. A hot, oatmilk latte with sugar free vanilla to start her day, Mei Mei's day.
"So, any plans for your weekend? Any dates? Any shopping sprees? Anything more fun than sweating in front of an oven watching bread rise?" I'd swat at her again if I wasn't occupied by the milk foamer.
"I do have a life outside of this bakery, you know," I quipped, only to hear a laugh answer me. "And although you quiz me each Friday about my weekend plans as if that's a lie, I can promise you my Saturdays and Sundays are not as boring as you make me out to be."
"So let me guess, another weekend occupied with reading? Maybe seeing a movie by yourself? No, wait, I've got it! Spending half the day in the grocery store planning an elaborate meal to cook only for yourself?" How Mei Mei saw all of these options as a bad thing, I'll never know...
I looked up with a huff, but did not reply. She took that as confirmation enough.
"You need to meet someone!" She proclaimed, "If only to pay for your meals, and clothes, and books, and anything else you like to do..."
"I can take care of myself just fine, thank you." I never understood why Mei Mei loves to have others pay for her, is it so bad to be independent?
"It's not about taking care of yourself, it's about watching someone else empty their wallet to make you happy," she laughed. "And besides, you deserve it!"
I paused for a moment and considered the latter statement. Maybe I do deserve to have someone else want to spoil me, it couldn't be all that bad, right?
"Well, I have to run. Think about what I said!" She turned and glided towards the door, hair flowing behind her and iPhone in hand. "There's no better feeling than spending money that's not yours!" That last part was half-shouted as she passed the threshold to the street outside.
The next few hours I spent serving customers, writing down a shopping list for my manager to refill on different ingredients we were running low on, and restocking the pastries for lunch. I looked up at the clock on the wall right as it struck noon and smiled to myself. Just two more hours between me and freedom.
As I wipe the counters behind the register with my back to the door, I hear the doorbell chime, but no footsteps or sounds of movement. I assume the wind jostled the door, or maybe I've heard it one too many times and the noise is beginning to replay randomly in my mind.
"Achem." A throat clears a mere two feet behind me.
In an instant the backs of my hands rise up towards my shoulders as I spin 180 degrees. With eyes widened and lips parted I ready myself to cuss out the customer that just snuck up on me, not expecting to only be caught off guard a second time.
Suddenly I was all too aware of the fact that I rushed out the door this morning. That I couldn't take a second more to apply blush, or braid the loose strands of hair that currently tickled the sides of my neck, or painted over the chips of my polish on half my nails. I was standing in front of an immaculately dressed man, and all he saw was an overtired, overworked college dropout with flour dusting their apron looking up at him in silence.
Shit, say something. "Hi - um, what would you like to order?" Well that's better than nothing.
He tilted his head for a few seconds. What is he looking at? Are the bags under my eyes that noticeable? I knew I shouldn't have snoozed, I would have had time to put concealer on.
"Just the sandwich, please." He says as he pulls his wallet out from his pocket, a shiny watch reflecting the light as he twists his hand to pull a thick credit card out.
I will myself to reach for it without my hand shaking. Why am I so nervous? Is it because he scared me, or maybe because he's almost too handsome to look at...
"S-sure thing. Would you like a receipt?"
"No. Thank you."
"Okay, well, come again please." WHAT WAS THAT - come again please? I need to get ahold of myself. Or maybe just more sleep.
He walks to the door but pauses as his hand reaches the handle. His head slightly turns to the side, "Thank you. I will."
Before I could process the sentence, the door shut and he was out of sight. He said he's coming back - what does that mean? I already began to wonder when he would return, and promised myself I would actually make myself look presentable before work from now on. A promise easier said than done. Does he want to see me again? I'm suddenly overwhelmed with the want to see him.
Why I suddenly transformed into a giddy and clueless schoolgirl after two minutes of speaking to this man I don't know. Something about his demeanor, his tall stature, his sharp and perfectly fitting suit. He didn't leave my mind for the remaining hour of my shift.
I wiped the tops of the small tables at the front of the shop in a circular motion, gently massing my wrist every so often. It still seemed to bother me after too much movement. I willed myself to ignore it and push the concern aside, it was quitting time.
While walking to the office in the back of the shop to clock out, I untie my apron and toss it into the hamper my manager brings to the cleaner each week. I punch my timecard and sling my purse over my shoulder, eager to lock up and begin my quiet, relaxing weekend forgetting the world around me and instead immersing myself in the pages of my latest book.
The bell chimes as I step outside and spin around to turn the key in the lock. I twist my still aching wrist and hear the lock click in to place. Before I can pull the key out and toss it back into my purse, I hear the familiar sound of a throat clearing beside me.
Once again spinning around with a startle I glance up at the well-dressed man beside me.
"I was hoping I'd catch you," he started. I stared, wondering where he even appeared from. He continued, "I couldn't help but notice you were holding your wrist earlier, and decided I couldn't let you go home for the day without offering my assistance."
"Oh - yeah, uhm. Are you a doctor?" I figure the answer to that question must be obvious, otherwise this interaction is just flat out creepy.
"No." He replied with a straight face and nothing more.
I stared. He stared back.
"Okay, well, sure, you can help me. Why not." I guess I'm in no place to say no the handsome, though strange, man that's already scared me half to death twice in one day. It's a Friday after all, what do I have to lose. Just an hour ago I was daydreaming about our next interaction - it seems apparently he was thinking of me too? I tried to come to this sudden realization without blushing.
"Great. I'll meet you back here at six tonight. Goodbye now." He began to turn on his heel to leave.
"Wait - six? What are you talking about?" "It's still afternoon and I need to return to work, so I'm offering to meet you back here once my day is done." "So why did you come back now?" "Like I said, I wanted to be sure I caught you. I know the bakery closes at this time." Right. I guess he's a very... literal person.
"Okay, I guess I'll see you later then." I shrug and ready myself to walk away. Desperately attempting to hide the fact I'm overcome with equal parts confusion and excitement.
"See you then," he says and we both turn to depart. "Oh, and one other thing-" he starts before either of us can fully turn our backs. "Don't eat beforehand. I'd like to buy you dinner."
I freeze, making sure I heard correctly. So he's literal and straightforward? I never knew these were traits I liked before.
"Okay. Thanks." Was all I could mutter before pulling my chin back from across my shoulder and facing my destination. I was trying desperately to walk not too fast, not too slow knowing he still stood at the bakery door behind me and could be watching.
Once I rounded the corner to reach the straightaway towards my apartment I stopped and put a hand against the brick wall beside me. I steadied myself as the thoughts began to rush in and cloud my mind.
I have a date tonight? No, it's not a date. Is it?
He's not a doctor but he wants to help with my wrist he noticed was hurting? Is this just a trick to kidnap me? No, he would have done it already.
Why didn't I make time to get ready this morning? I need to stop snoozing my alarm.
I forced the thoughts to quiet and continued my walk home. I had a strange date(?) with a mysterious blonde man I had to get ready for.
...............
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EARLY MORNINGS AND OVERTIME | Nanami Kento x Reader JJK fanfic | Chapter 7: Crowd Pleaser
Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader (fem, first person pov)
Word count: 5339
Fic Summary: A smutty fic in which Nanami Kento brightens up the mundane, flour-dusted life a college dropout working in a bakery.
Chapter Summary: A fancy work event with Nanami ends with a bang...
Warnings: drinking, oral fem receiving, fingering, - 18+, minors dni.
Read on AO3. Masterlist.
Please feel free to ask me to correct anything in the above info, this is my first fic and I want to be sure I’m following all fic-posting etiquette. Ty!
Nanami and I continue to fall into a new routine together. He comes in to the bakery every day for lunch, talking with me while he eats by the register and I work (or at least attempt to.) Friday nights are spent talking for hours over dinner and drinks, sometimes at his townhouse or usually in a dimly-lit restaurant, leaving only once we begin to feel guilty for staying too long. He's not hiding himself or limiting his conversations with me anymore, and it just feels good.
Despite it all though, I do still feel a lingering voice in the back of my head, telling me not to get too comfortable. My subconscience is frequently tapping on my mind, reminding me that I still don't have the full picture about Nanami's past, why he has to carry a weapon, or what he even uses it for. I can't help but think I deserve to know the full picture if we're going to be together. Doesn't he owe me that much?
Tuesday morning rolls around and I begin my day as usual, stocking the case by the register with the morning's freshly baked croissants, rolls, and desserts. The entirety of the store smells of sweet bread and I take a deep breath as I begin to brew myself a second coffee. The familiar aroma of the freshly ground beans adds to the scents swirling in my nose. It reminds me that as much as I complain of my early mornings and exhausting schedule, I always enjoy the way the shop activates all of my senses.
Right on cue Mei Mei bustles through the door to grab her latte, pausing to chat with me as she always does even when she's in a rush. Spilling the details about her not-unusually extravagant weekend, I smile and think to myself maybe today's the day. I've been truly enjoying myself with Nanami thus far and maybe Mei Mei's social wisdom can help me figure out how I want to move forward with the lingering uncertainties about our relationship.
"So, remember how you asked why I was so happy before? I may have lied when I said the only reason was a break from the heat in the AC..." I couldn't help but unleash my grin as I started to hint at the news.
"I KNEW IT!" she yells back, demanding I tell her everything.
I start at the beginning, describing the way he seemed to magically fix the pain in my wrist, took me to only the nicest places, how he caught me dancing in a wine-induced frenzy atop his own couch and the wonderful aftermath that followed, and the way I'm always excited to see him again.
I did, however, leave out his name. I'm not sure I'm quite ready to speak this into existence just that much yet... I still get nervous something will go wrong and I'll jinx something that really has to be too good to be true.
"So what's the catch?" Mei Mei asks me, eyebrows raised, "you look like you're holding something back."
Always able to see through me, I take a deep breath before I continue. I explain to Mei Mei the secrets he's holding from me, and the way that he seems to have some sort of super-human vision and has saved me from more than one undeniably scary situation. After I describe the look of his weapon along with what he said about his past experiences in some sort of 'security' role, her eyes widen and her lips purse closed. Although her mouth is closed shut her eyes look as if she knows something I don't, there's a look of recognition on her face.
"What?" I ask, shaken by her sudden and uncharacteristic silence.
"Nothing - I just realized I'm late!" she stammers out what I can clearly see is a bold-faced lie, and practically sprints out the door before I can question her.
Standing by the register, confused and alone, my mind begins to race as to what the hell is truly going on here. Are they both hiding something from me? Does she know something I don't?
I barely have time to gather my thoughts or ponder all of the what-ifs before I smell the scent of something burning in the kitchen. After spending more time than usual chatting with Mei Mei I completely missed the timer on the oven and have to start a new batch of rolls from scratch. Before I know it the lunch rush is arriving and my entire day is flying by.
Clocking out that afternoon, I take my time on my walk home. Blasting the music in my earbuds I stroll at a leisurely pace, trying to think over what happened this morning without panicking.
Deciding I need to stand up for myself and initiate a serious conversation with Nanami, I take out my phone and send him a simple but straightforward text.
I want to see you, there's some things I need to ask you.
Putting my phone back in my pocket, I think about all of our encounters over the past few weeks. Beyond our conversations, anytime we're not talking over dinner or lunch we're physically all over each other. Smiling to myself, I realize he and I have been playing a bit of a game with each other. Though originally unintentional, we've now made it a habit to constantly push each other to the limit sexually without actually having sex. It practically feels like a competition, working to see who can leave the other more breathless or delirious. Each time we're left satisfied and exhausted, but I think it's obvious to both of us this game won't last.
I can sense the hunger inside of him each time he grabs me, every time his hands roam up and down my body, and with every passing look in his longing glances my way. In the time we've known each other he's always been the one to initiate and that's how I've liked it so far. It's also kind of exciting to wonder and anticipate when the day will come that we take it all the way. I can feel it in my bones that no matter what type of conversation we have the next time I see him, we're bound to break out of our game of cat and mouse.
Checking my phone again as I walk in the door of my apartment, I still don't see a response from Nanami. I don't think much of it as he isn't always able to answer me quickly, so I set my phone aside to charge and begin to prep my dinner for the night.
By the time I get in to bed later that night I still hadn't heard back. I can't help but go to bed disappointed and begin overthinking and second guessing myself for everything that's happened today. I wonder if telling Mei Mei was a mistake, or if sending that text is suddenly scaring him away.
The next morning I go about the first half of my shift on autopilot, and am not totally surprised when Mei Mei doesn't show for her usual morning latte. I still had gotten no word from Nanami and I was beginning to feel an exhausting combination of restlessness and hopelessness. Why am I getting so worked up over one unanswered text?
Right as the lunch rush is winding down and most customers have left the store, the bakery's telephone rings. I answer with my usual cheery greeting, ready to answer questions about our hours or any specials we're serving this week.
"Hey, it's me." My eyes widen when I recognize the deep voice on the other end of the phone. "Are you alright? I haven't been able to get ahold of you on your cell."
I begin to stammer out a response that I'm fine and my there's nothing wrong with my phone as I quickly reach into my pocket. Unlocking my phone I realize sure enough I had never turned my phone off airplane mode after charging it last night - something I often turn on to make it charge faster. Pressing the palm of my hand against my forehead and I let out a sigh and lean against the counter of the work station.
"Yup, phone's fine, I just managed to leave it practically useless for nearly a day." I sigh once again and shake off all the nerves I felt for the last twelve or so hours, cursing myself for once again getting so worked up over nothing. I tap my screen to turn airplane mode off and watch as the notifications begin trickling in.
"Well I'm glad I got ahold of you because there's something I want to ask you too." I stand up straight and press the phone harder against my ear as if that'll make me hear what he has to say any clearer. I had nearly forgotten my last text to him asked for us to talk... that can wait.
"My work is having a fairly large event this weekend, black tie and all at a local venue that's attached to a new hotel that's owned by one of our investors. I want you there as my date."
I agree to this very fancy-sounding event taking place on Saturday night, realizing this means we'll not only be interacting with others as a couple for the first time, but also likely spending the night together for the first time as well. I gulp at the realization, trying not to let my nerves show through my voice on the phone.
"I want to treat you to a dress for the occasion, hell shoes and purse too if you want it," before I can object to the way too generous offer he continues, "pick out something I can rip off in an instant."
I start to tease that I'm pretty sure he could do that with just about any clothing I decide to wear, but his tone remains serious and completely genuine.
"The best part of having you as arm candy is how sweet you taste." I tense and look around, hoping no one can hear what's happening on the phone right now. I then begin to laugh at my paranoia, realizing no one in the store could ever get close enough to my space behind the register to be in earshot.
"Really?" I croon back, "And what makes you think I'll let you have a taste at this big fancy event of yours?"
"Because I know how to make you putty in my hands," is his cocky reply, "And I know I won't be able to control myself the second I see you."
I hold back a smile as I press the phone harder against my ear, shifting my weight back and forth between my feet.
"You better try, we will be in a crowded place you know..." I tease.
"You think that will stop us?" I can hear his smile in his response.
He continues to sweet (and dirty) talk me over the phone as I keep shifting my eyes between customers to make sure no ones catching on. Eventually someone steps over to the register to make a purchase and I have to hang up, trying not to giggle as I say goodbye. I can already tell Saturday night is going to be trouble.
Thursday rolls around and I still haven't bought a dress for Saturday's party, and I still haven't seen Mei Mei come in for coffee like usual. After some mental back-and-forth with myself, I decide to give her a call and ask if she'd like to come shopping with me tonight. She has never once turned down an offer to spend money. I chuckle to myself thinking about how happy she'll be to hear that I won't even be the one paying for my new ensemble...
Though she sounds less enthusiastic than normal when picking up the phone, Mei Mei's voice warms up when she realizes I'm asking to spend time with her out of a genuine place of friendship, and I can look past her awkward exit from the other morning. We agree to meet at the shopping plaza later tonight, and I'm truly looking forward to getting her opinion on what I imagine will be multiple outfit try-ons.
Arriving at the shops later that night, I meet Mei Mei by the entrance of one of the boutiques Nanami suggested I shop at - apparently he has a card on file that I can charge my selections to. Mei Mei appears to have a genuine smile on her face as I approach, and we immediately hug as I get within arms-length.
"I'm sorry I ran out of the shop earlier this week - I promise you did nothing wrong," she began to explain.
"Hey, don't worry about it," I assure her, "I'm just happy you're free now to help me shop!" Taking her arm in mine I walk us in to the store and make a beeline for the first dress that catches my eye. It's on the shorter side but it has beautiful lace sleeves and a v-neckline. I waste no time scooping it into the crook of my arm as Mei Mei lets go of me to grab another dress for me to try on as well.
Within moments we have a stack of six or seven dresses for me to choose from and make our way to the fitting rooms, though the fitting room area looks more like a second store than a line of stalls. There is ample space for walking past the endless mirrors, seating areas for guests like Mei Mei to watch the try-ons, and several staff members ready to make replacements or suggestions for any piece.
Beginning with the top of the pile, I try on the short, v-neckline dress with lace sleeves that initially caught my eye. I expected to like the dress much more than I actually did once I saw it on, and the scrunched nose Mei Mei makes in reaction to me stepping out of the dressing room is all the confirmation I need to swap to the next dress in the pile.
Next up is a classic Little Black Dress. I was reluctant to add a black dress to the pile, since I had already worn one on a date with Nanami before, but they are always a reliable choice. Pulling on the thin straps and loose, slip-like fit of this dress makes me feel sexy and confident, but ultimately I decide against it because it's not dressy enough.
This same pattern of pulling on dresses and showing them to a not-so-impressed Mei Mei continued for nearly every dress. Until the last one.
Taking it off the hanger and sliding it over my head, my eyes lit up in the mirror as I saw the way the dress rested across the curves of my body. It had one only one strap across my left shoulder, the fabric tugging across my chest from the right side, and it had a high slit going up my right leg. The single strap paired with the high slit on opposite sides of my body balanced out the fact that the dress was a bit on the revealing side, but the high quality silky material and bright pale pink color elevated its elegance. The waist of the dress was perfectly cinched without feeling too tight or constricting, something I often tried to avoid at all costs.
Stepping out of the dressing room towards Mei Mei, I see her eyes widen and smile spread across her face. "You HAVE to get that one! You have to!" Is all she can say in response to the gown.
Doing a twirl and a curtsy like a little kid, I giggle out of sheer glee and tell Mei Mei her next mission is to find me shoes and a bag to match while I continue to admire myself in the mirror. There's no way I'm taking this off before I can find the perfect heels and purse to pair it with.
Once we've selected the finishing touches to the outfit, Mei Mei offers to pick us up some iced teas to drink on the way home while I go to the back of the store to pay. It takes me all of two seconds to tell the employee I'm charing my selections to Nanami's account and she nods knowingly before saying I'm all set. I try not to smile as I'm handed my bag of clothing over the counter and realize I could get used to this.
Saturday
Sitting in the cab on the way to the event, I put on one more coat of sheer lip gloss. I've never felt more confident than I do right now in this new outfit, and the endless stares I've been receiving from Nanami ever since he picked me up certainly help.
Stepping into the venue with my hands wrapped around Nanami's arm, I instantly looking up all around me like a kid. Identical chandeliers hang from nearly every inch of the ceiling, an intricate double staircase lined the right and left side of the entry way, and live jazz music was sweeping throughout the space from a band located in the main room. It was the picture of elegance.
Before we could grab our flutes of champagne from the servers standing on either sides of the entrance, an already visibly drunk coworker slaps Nanami on the back in greeting.
Nanami gives a cordial greeting and introduces me, ever the gentleman even to the coworkers I'm sure he can't stand. The man eyes me up and down but soon stops once he feels Nanami's warning stare cutting into him. He mumbles a nice to meet you and walks off.
"Seems like a charming guy to spend 40 hours a week with," I joke.
He laughs and shakes his head in response, walking us through the entryway to the tables in the main dining area of the venue.
The live music continues to fill the air, mingling with the sound of conversation and laughter. This venue and hotel is boutique style and completely modern, like nothing I've ever seen. Every person I see is dressed to the occasion and perfectly polished, it's no wonder Nanami can find his day to day work with these people so exhausting.
I steal a glance at him as we walk to the table, and I find myself fixated on his beauty for the hundredth time. Although I'm used to seeing him in formal clothing, he took the time tonight to style his hair more precisely. It is meticulously lightly gelled back off his face, having his chiseled features and freshly shaven skin fully visible. His eyes seem brighter in the glow of the party lights, and find myself drawn to the soft curve of his lips. Noticing my stare, he turns to look at me and smiles, asking what's so interesting.
"Just happy to be here," I say back, and he leans in to kiss me in the middle of the room.
After several hours of mingling, eating the tiniest but most delicious servings of food, and sipping what I can only image is a type of champagne way outside my price range, I excuse myself to use the restroom.
After washing my hands and fixing myself in the mirror, I exit the restroom and re-orient myself to my surroundings. The venue is large enough to get lost but most of it is familiar to me from the brief time we spent walking around earlier in the evening. Grabbing another champagne flute from a nearby server, I sip the drink as I walk - looking at the art lining most of the walls in the main halls of the venue. This place is nicer than anywhere I'll ever get to stay, I may as well take it all in.
After doing a few laps, I put my drink down on one of the server's trays that is slowly filling with empty glasses and start to make my way back, still taking in the venue while I look for Nanami. Rounding the corner by the coat closet I feel two strong hands grip me at my sides and pull me in close. Beginning to nuzzle his lips to my neck, Nanami whispers that he's been staring at each bit of my exposed skin through the slits of my dress all night. I relax slightly in his arms, but still giggle nervously that there's lots of people around to hear him. In response, he sidesteps just a few feet to the side, pulling us in to the nearby coat closet and under the cover of its walls.
"No one will be needing to come in here for the coat in the summertime, hmm?" he asks mockingly as I continue to anxiously giggle at his boldness, willing myself to loosen up.
"You look too good for me to wait any longer to taste you," he hums lowly into my ear as he begins to lower himself until he's in a kneeled position before me. My eyes widen at the sight and logic tells me I should protest due to the risk of getting caught, but the pooling wetness between my legs says otherwise.
Before I can internally debate any longer the slit of my dress is pulled open, my underwear pulled aside, and Nanami's tongue is expertly gliding up and down the folds of my center. I sigh as quietly as I possibly can and lean back against the wall, pressing the back of my head against it to further relax.
He wraps his hands around my ass, cupping the firm muscle and supple skin of both cheeks and squeezing every now and then. I sink myself lower, using gravity to press into him as he continues to hungrily slide his mouth over me. I wrap one leg around him, wresting the back of my thigh on his shoulder while my other knee feels close to buckling. He holds on tighter in response.
Suddenly I don't care that we're inside a small closet at a crowded party, or that we don't even have the space or time to take our clothes off, all that matters is his body against mine. Panting, I look down to see him raise his eyes to meet mine.
"Please don't stop," I beg as I feel myself inching closer to climax with each sweep of his skilled tongue. Eyes twinkling at my words, he simply winks and plunges a finger into me as response.
I cup my hand against my mouth to prevent anyone from hearing the gasp and cry I couldn't help but let out. Sinking myself lower yet again I press all my weight into his face, feeling myself reach the brink of my release with each increase of pressure against my clit. Begging for more under my breath I hear Nanami take a deep breath before completely covering his face in me, gliding the entirety of his tongue up and down over my clit until I absolutely lose it.
Bracing myself on his shoulders, I buckle at the sensation and can do nothing but breathe and try not to scream as I come to a blinding climax. I squeeze my eyes shut as a tightness wraps around my spine and my toes grip tighter in my heels. Every bone in my body is screaming Nanami's name and needing more of him.
He begins to rise back up on his feet, still holding on to me as he knows I can barely stand on my own at this point.
"More, I need more of you," I beg as I start to aimlessly grab at his belt. He smiles and stops my hands, leaning his face down to my ear to whisper.
"Lucky for you I reserved us a room here tonight," I could kiss him for thinking ahead like that. Sneaky bastard must have known this is exactly what would happen.
Wrapping my arms around his neck I breathe in his scent and start to get a second burst of energy, eager to continue where we left off in the comfort of our own swanky room in this new hotel. "Well let's go then!" I practically shout, grabbing his hand and stumbling out the closet door.
Giggling as I hold onto his hand and arm, I walk us on unsteady feet towards the elevators that lead to the rooms of the hotel. I feel like I'm walking on air since I know for a fact this is going to be the night that we finally go all the way.
Suddenly an image of my purse sitting on our table in the dining area of the party flashes in my mind. "Wait! My bag!" I stop in my tracks realizing I had forgotten it and release Nanami's hand.
"I'll call up the elevator while you get your bag," he suggests and adds with a wink, "can't be wasting any time."
I smile and spin on my heels, practically power walking back to the table to get my new clutch. It takes everything in me not to take off in a full sprint knowing what's about to happen once we make it upstairs.
"Hey, wait!" a voice I don't recognize calls out to me, and I turn to see Nanami's coworker from earlier striding across the space between tables, reaching a hand out for my attention.
"Yes?" I ask, pointing a finger towards myself to make sure it's even me he wants to talk to.
"Yeah you," he confirms, slurring his words. "You're not leaving are you?"
"Actually we are," I respond.
"That's too bad," god, I can smell the booze on his breath as he fumbles over his words, and I begin to try to walk away. "Nanami didn't even get to share his superhero story yet this year, it's always a crowd pleaser."
"What?" suddenly I care what this man has to say.
"Every year we convince him to tell us about his past job, he was practically a superhero with what he did you know..." he spies the confusion on my face. "What, he hasn't told you all about it?"
I don't bother answering the man, instead I whip my head around towards the exit, muttering a goodbye as I speed away. He's been telling stories about the same job he can barely share a single detail about to me?! What's been all the bullshit about keeping this secret to protect me? Suddenly every frustration, every spark of anger, and every pang of betrayal I've ever felt at Nanami's secrecy begins to swarm my head at once. Tears begin to well in my eyes as I stalk for the exit, realizing I'll have to pass the elevators where he waits on the way out.
I keep my head low, hoping I can slip past him and make a break for a cab outside without him seeing.
Unbelievable. I truly have no words I could even think to say or scream at him right now. Have this all been a joke to him all along?
Desperately trying not to twist my ankle as I storm out the building with limited vision due to the brimming tears, I pass the elevators only to hear Nanami call out to me with concern.
"Hey, where are you going?" he grabs a hold of my arm with confusion, and his face goes grave with concern once he sees I am crying.
"I'm getting the hell out of here and away from you," I respond, not slowing my stride as I see the doors to the exit just ahead.
"What happened? Did someone hurt you?" still nothing but concern from him.
"Yeah, you did." I spit back.
He practically stops in his tracks, eyes wide as he looks at me with shock and peer confusion on his face. "Please tell me what's going on."
"Why don't you tell me," I say as I push open the door and stomp through towards the street where I spy an idling cab. "You can tell me all about your crowd-pleasing heroics your coworkers seem to love so much." I spit out each syllable like a jab, unable to hold back the hurt in my voice.
He continues to stare at me with shock and pain in his eyes.
Nearing the cab I hold on to my purse tighter, ready to fling open the door and lower myself inside so I can go home.
"I can explain-" he starts to say but I interrupt just as I grip the car door handle.
"You want to explain why you've kept most of your life a damn secret from me all this time? After I've practically begged to get to know who you really are? After my life has been in danger because of it twice? Each time you've said you can't tell me about your past because it's too dangerous or to protect me... hard to believe all that now when I'm told those same secrets are used as a damn punchbowl conversation at parties."
He tries to keep me from shutting the door but I give him a warning look as my fingers close along the inside handle and I pull my feet inside the car.
"I've had enough of the secrecy and lies," I say as I ready myself to shut the door on him. "I thought I could trust you, I thought I could be okay with you keeping secrets. I really convinced myself it wasn't an issue." I shake my head at the thought and begin to feel disappointed in myself. "But I deserve better than that." I look him in the eye as I shut door and have the last word. "Have fun here by yourself, go share your goddamn party tricks, and don't call me."
Thankfully my driver seems to understand the situation once I sit back, as he begins to drive away before I can even give my address. Squeezing my eyes shut as I lean my head against the seat, I mutter out the address to my home and fail to hold back more tears. I peek a look out the window behind me to see Nanami standing exactly where I left him less than a minute ago, having barely moved a muscle as he watches me drive away. Hoping I made the right decision to draw the line, I choke out a sob and frantically pull out my phone. There's only one person I want to call.
"Hello?" the background is filled with upbeat music and various conversations of party-goers. She must be out.
"Mei Mei?" I ask, not hiding how pathetic I sound, "Can you please meet me at my apartment?"
Immediately understanding my night went sour, I hear her gulp back what must be left of whatever drink she's holding and Mei Mei responds, "I'll be right there."
