Pseudowho - Tumblr Posts

Way too many kisses to you, @pseudowho 💋💋💋💋💋💋

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I need a baby right now 🥹👉🏻👈🏻

Surely mister perfect dad-husband-lover Nanami babywears? I could see him in a big woven wrap, maybe one in the same pattern as his tie?

And once the baby is a toddler, tossing them on his back while they run errands about town?

Bonus: would Higuruma? I haven’t read the manga so I only really know of him and his traits via fandom…

Nanami Kento: He absolutely babywears 👏👏 I think he'd be into the reliability of a structured carrier myself, but would absolutely fall apart if Mrs.Nanami has one made with a bespoke, tie-matching pattern.

I think he'd also have a meticulously organised baby bag with snacks, outfit changes, medicine, etc. Truly, a prepared king. He finds it uniquely frustrating that most baby-change rooms are in women's only bathrooms.

I think he'd have a back carrier for a toddler, but he'd encourage them to walk as much as he could, wearing the carried just in case. They'd get thrown on his back when he needs to carry stuff though. He'd check they're awake back there by doing the Reach Back and Offer Snack technique...if a little hand comes out to take the snack, they're awake 😌

He'd be talking to people while babywearing, his usual low, stern voice, and would randomly interject every now and then with his sweet dad voice to include the baby: "...so we intercepted the Curse on the second floor, and Ino managed to take it out. But you don't need to know about that, do you, sweetheart? No, nooooo. No scary monsters here, no there aren't..."

Talk too loudly by him while the baby's asleep on him, and you'll be met with a death glare, and a single, raised finger in threat; Mr.Nanami Kento, who can excuse murder, but draws the line at disturbing naps.

Higuruma Hiromi: While I HC Higuruma as child free by choice (I have written just one fic of Dad!Higuruma), I think he'd absolutely babywear through practicality, the guy's too busy to push a buggy. If he has to use a buggy one day, I picture him jogging this baby to daycare (because he's running late) while pushing this buggy. He drops his baby off, gives him a big kiss and hair ruffle...then runs back, because the baby's been holding onto his case notes for him, and he forgot them.

That baby would be his confidante; Higuruma would share case details and ask his baby's opinion ("...so the prosecution, think they've got the evidence they need, but they're clowns. They're clowns, aren't they? Aren't they darling? Yes they are..."), go to client meetings with the baby ("Look...I believe you, but my kid doesn't look convinced. Maybe try something more like..."), and use his baby as an excuse ("Ahhh I'm sorry, I can't make that client lunch actually? Why? Oh, me and my baby hate you I haven't got childcare for the afternoon, today.")

Higuruma's a big oral fixation guy, and a fidgeter (pen chewer, gavel twizzler, tie loosening...) and assumes his baby is too, so has a baby fiddle-clip for when he's babywearing (he likes a wrap sling-- he knows it looks sloppy, but he's a dexterous king and can tie one in 10 seconds flat). He may or may not have had a bespoke fiddle/teething clip made, with a little rubberised gavel on it for chewing.

He's one of those dads who feels sleepy when a baby naps on him. You'd find him, slumped back in his office chair, with a baby napping on his chest, while Hiromi snores away, had back and exhausted, a pen and paperwork still in his hand.

Mr.Haitch is a keen babywearer. I'm very into Strong Man Wears Baby as a thing 💀

-- Haitch xxx

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new reblog game actually put in the tags what the blog you reblogged from tastes like

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CUTEEE GUYS NANAMI BEING THE PRETEND DAD FOR YUJIIIII

Nanami Kento was not a father; not strictly speaking. Not technically speaking. Not metaphorically speaking. The absence of paternity, however, did nothing to eschew him of the shackles he wore with pride, wearing them as a mantle; a medal of honour.

For one with such a black hole in his life, Itadori Yuuji would not notice Kento's absence unless something took Kento away from him, so natural was it that the void was filled.

Nanami Kento's priorities altered so dramatically, with such quiet consideration, that he had no real words to explain his situation to you when he first took you out for dinner. Or, when he took you out to the beach. Or, when you took him to that art gallery. Or, when you came over to his, tumbling through the door into stumbling kisses, all hands and groans and desperation.

For Nanami Kento was not a father. He ensured that his relationship with Yuuji did not overlap with his relationship with you, fearful that you would reject the burden of not-parenthood.

Kento was so introspective in his attempts to hide his not-parenthood, that he failed to see how blatantly-fucking-obvious he was. As if you wouldn't notice that dinner was always made for three, with a portion put aside or frozen for a hungry visitor. As if you wouldn't notice that Kento browsed the teenage boy sections in clothes stores, making note of what he would come back for later. As if you had not seen Kento listed as "I.C.E." on Yuuji's phone screen at school one day.

As if you were not a mother. As if you were not fully prepared to be.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento was stalking through the belly of the beast when he spotted two missed calls; one from Yuuji, and one from Shoko. His heart leapt into his mouth, his blade hanging dumbly by his side as he cursed internally at his lack of signal. Torn by conflicting responsibilities, he focused on the task at hand, but as a noticeably sloppier Sorcerer when worry gnawed at the bones of him.

An hour later, finally free, he jogged to his car, panting. He slipped into his seat, and called Yuuji-- no answer. He called Shoko-- no answer. He swore again, hurrying to start the car...and his phone buzzed.

He looked at the screen, and opened a message from you. He sat, staring at it, a cold trickle of worry down his spine. A photo; of Yuuji's characteristic shoes, beside your own, with the caption:

Picked up a wounded stray. He looks hungry. We'll be at yours soon!

Kento churned through emotions, trying to read your tone on the screen. Angry? Cheerful? Exasperated? Would you want to talk about his deceit later? Technically he hadn't lied. Or, he had. A lie by omission perhaps? She's angry. She's disappointed at least. Is that worse? That's worse.

Kento stewed, the whole drive home.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento continued to stew, when he arrived home to an empty house. He paced, and sat, and paced, and sat. He cursed himself for not maintaining tighter boundaries between Nanami-Kento-the-Boyfriend and Nanami-Kento-the-Not-Father. So deep was he in his self-flagellation, he jolted to hear the door open, and two familiar peals of laughter rolling through.

"--Ieiri-san told me I should have waited for Ino to arrive, but I just had to do something, y'know--"

"--not jump through a damn window, Yuuji, that's excessive--"

"--not stupid if it worked though--"

"--as your Not-Mother, I cannot condone this."

Kento stood, watching the scene unfold in wonder. You and Yuuji, bantering. You reaching for the grocery bags, and Yuuji insisting he carry them instead. You directing Yuuji to the bag with the snacks. Yuuji totally bypassing Kento, jogging past him to the kitchen.

As if this was his home. As if Kento was his home. As if you were his home.

Kento was still stunned into silence when you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

"Hey! Sorry we're late. Yuuji was hurt on a mission, so I picked him up, but I wanted to get ice cream, and I noticed we didn't have enough in for dinner for three, and--"

Your words cut off with a muffled "mmf!" as Kento leaned down, pulling you in by the back of the neck, and small of your back, silencing you with a kiss which tasted of all the gratitude for which he had no words. By the time he'd released your lips, his forehead pressed to yours, you felt the air rush back to the vacuum he'd left behind.

"...Kento, are you oka--"

"I love you."

The air rushed straight back out of you, leaving you light and giddy. Your lips puckered, threatening tears, so long had you been wondering if he'd ever confess the depths of his feelings.

"...you love me?"

"I love you. I love you. I absolutely love you. And I'm sorry I didn't--..."

"...didn't think I'd be happy with you looking after a boy with no parents, who needs some?"

You let your question hang, so Kento could soak in how much of a fool he'd been. He sighed, tense and looking over at Yuuji rustling through grocery bags in the kitchen.

"...I didn't want to assume that you'd accept it."

"Would you choose someone like that, though?" Kento looked unsure, and you clarified. "I mean, would you choose someone who felt jealous of you looking after an orphaned child?"

Kento's gears turned. "...no."

You smiled up at him, cupping his cheek in your palm. "Exactly. So, like I was saying...I put fresh sheets in his room. I'll go and make dinner. Yuuji will pick a movie. And you should have a word with him about jumping through plate glass windows to get to a Curse faster."

At that, Kento's head snapped up, fixing Yuuji with a frown that had Yuuji dropping bags of snacks on the floor.

"Yuuji."

"Shit, I'm sorry Nanamin, I--"

"Language."

"Shit, I'm sorry Nanami-san, I--"

You headed to the kitchen, pulling on an apron and stifling laughter at the Not-Father and Not-Son bickering in your wake.

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UHM HELLO?? THE WAY ITS WRITTEN IS SO GOOD??

Eat Me

A Nanami Kento x F!Reader Vampire AU Oneshot

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, Minors DNI)

Pairing: Vampire!Hunter Nanami Kento x Vampire F!Reader Summary: An aristocratic vampire working in the corporate world is a thing rarely seen, but you're determined to live the normal life you've always longed for. Once you escape your oppressive family, a friend recommends you reach out to the higher ups at JJK Inc., and before you know it, you find yourself settling into a new life. Everything is going smoothly once you settle into your new job; that is until you discover that your stern but outrageously handsome boss, Nanami Kento, knows all about your little secret. CW: smut, vampire au, human/vampire relationship, boss/employee relationship, forbidden love, mutual pining, vampire bites, blood drinking, grinding, dry humping, biting, finger sucking, nanami kento probably has a biting kink but you didn't hear it from me Word Count: 9.2K A/n: This is a rewrite of a previous fic that I posted in the past but have since deleted. Initially I had structured it as a multi-chapter work, however I want to explore some other AUs with Nanami so I decided to rework this into a standalone oneshot. Scenes have been expanded and added so I hope this feels like a fresh read to you all! <3

The putrid scent of burning flesh slams up Nanami Kento’s nose as he enters his target’s opulent office. It’s a familiar and deeply unpleasant smell, one that fosters bad memories and a nauseating churn in the pit of the hunter’s stomach.

Looks like someone beat him to the target.

Nanami’s nose scrunches against the offending aroma, briefly betraying his distaste before his trained gaze scans the spotless space around him. There are no signs of a struggle. Not a single table, chair, or speck of dust is out of place. Everything in this obnoxiously expensive office sits completely undisturbed, as if Nanami were the first person to enter it all week.

Cursing under his breath, Nanami removes his glasses. There is only one vampire hunter alive that is capable of such a feat, and Nanami has no desire to deal with his colleague's theatrical antics tonight.

Satisfied that there are no other uninvited guests in the shadows, Nanami pockets his shades in his breast pocket and journeys deeper into the darkened office. Like a hell hound he follows the scent of death. The soles of his shoes clack ominously against the polished floor with each step he takes, signaling his approach to his colleague.

Not that Gojo Satoru needed the warning.

The smell leads Nanami towards the massive windows that display the city’s beautiful skyline. The sight of the shimmering neon lights against the black backdrop of the night sky provides Nanami with the briefest of mental reprieves. Looking upon those lights, Nanami envisions with longing the night he could have had if he’d only not answered Masamichi’s call.

Enjoying the serene solitude of his apartment across town, sipping away at a glass of bourbon while he languidly worked away over his stove, experimenting with that risotto recipe that he’d seen while perusing a magazine easier that day. That would have been a night worth having. Not one where he had to think about corpses, monsters and death.

Rounding the ludicrously expensive desk that sits in the center of the room, Nanami’s honey brown gaze trails down to the floor, finally arriving at the scene he had expected to see. 

A mangled corpse in the process of burning from the inside out lays on the floor. Its eyes are wide with terror and its mouth is stretched open in an eerie, silent scream that would have sent shivers down Nanami’s spine had he not seen this exact same scenario hundreds of times before.

A vampire in the throes of death is a gruesome thing. The sight, sound, smell, and brutal agony of it all will always haunt him. But even though dispatching them is rotten work, Nanami understands that leaving them to their own devices is even more so. The gluttony of their kind when their thirst overcomes their senses is unparalleled. That and their lust for cruelty.

As Nanami silently watches the body burn, the red veins glowing disturbingly before the skin and bone turn to ash, he notes that the form remains perfect and pristine through its destruction. Its blood was uncorrupted. So it had been a noble after all.

Abruptly, a playful chuckle rings through the office and Nanami turns his attention to the source, his brown eyes meeting the inhuman blues of Gojo’s.

The playful hunter smiles.

“Looks like they haven’t all been wiped out.”

Nanami’s brows furrow, the muscles in his shoulders tensing instinctively. The creature truly never stood a chance. No one—human or inhuman—ever saw Gojo coming. They were dead before they even knew they were in danger. In fact, Gojo is so effective at his job that frankly Nanami almost feels sorry for the creatures they hunt. Almost. 

“Seems so.”

Gojo’s smile spreads wider across his handsome face. He steps forward, his unmistakable snow white hair illuminated by the glowing lights from the city below. The crunching sound of his boot as he steps over the ash is a perfect allegory for the world at Gojo Satoru’s feet. It truly is only a matter of time before he completely wipes them all out.

“Glad you could make it, Nanamin,” The man teases, his expression gleaming with satisfaction. “Our dusty little friend here told me the most interesting little rumor.”

Nanami’s expression sours, his hands curling into fists as he feels the tension in his body coil tighter. He knows exactly what Gojo’s next words are going to be.

“Another assignment?”

Without a word, Gojo reaches into his pocket and produces a cell phone. Nanami watches, silently annoyed as the man nonchalantly whistles a merry little tune as he opens the phone’s contents. After a few seconds of scrolling, Gojo turns the phone towards Nanami and shows him the target.

A woman. The picture had been snapped at a distance, capturing her in mid stride as she climbed out of the back of a Rolls-Royce Phantom.

Nanami reaches up and zooms in on the picture, his sharp eyes absorbing every detail. Every part of her is in pristine order. Her hair, her clothing, shoes, make-up and nails. Impeccable, immaculate, like a model who had just stepped fresh out of the pages of a magazine.

Everything about her screams untouchable luxury, prestige, and old money. Everything, except her eyes. They are…glassy and distant, as if the soul inside were somewhere else at the moment this picture was taken. 

That familiar state of forlorn disconnection, of going through the motions while dissociating from the world around you because that’s the only way you can survive…

A pang of sympathy hits Nanami square in the chest. He understands that feeling all too well.

“A vampire.” The hunter dryly surmises, glancing up at his coworker. “One of the nobles I take it?”

Gojo Satoru’s lips pull back into a spine chilling smile.

“Oh, far more interesting than that.”

The office is plunged into a foreboding silence as Gojo turns the phone in his hand. He types away for a moment before slipping it back into his pocket. Not a moment after, Nanami’s own phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and glances at the notification.

Gojo Satoru

Target’s image attached. Have fun Nanamin~ <3

“She’s royal.” (xxx)

21 months later

Groggy, your mind surfaces from the depths of sleep. One by one, you slowly feel your senses returning to you. 

The first thing that returns to you is touch. The feeling of the soft, warm fabric of your pillow and sheets forming a pleasant cocoon of warmth around you is one of the best things in the world.

The second sensation is scent. The smell of the cool, crisp morning air tickles the tip of your nose. It’s wet and fresh, meaning that it must have rained sometime in the night. 

The third sense that returns is sound. From your open bedroom window, you can hear the traffic and bustle of the city below start to swell, building into that buzzing morning rush crescendo that you’ve become so accustomed to in the last year.

To many, mornings like this are predictable and mundane, but to you it’s a little piece of heaven. This is your home, your space, and your time to yourself. No one else's. 

And sure, while there may be some days that may feel lonely, overall you are at peace, and that is invaluable to you. 

Living this quiet and mundane little life in this dingy yet cozy little apartment, there’s no one here to tell you what to do. No one to lord themselves over you, or tell you what to think and say. No one to tell you what to wear, who to talk to, and who to shun. No one to sneer at you should you prove a disappointment. 

Here, you’re allowed to be your true self. You can finally breathe, grow, and rest.

Rest.

Snuggling deeper into the blankets, you plan to do just that. However, something in the back of your mind compels you to open your eyes. You usually wake up a few minutes before your alarm clock, but it feels a little later than usual doesn’t it?

Heaving a sleepy groan, your eyes flutter open, only to shut so that you can rub away the blurry fuzz that clouds your vision. Once satisfied, your eyes squint open again and focus on the glowing red numbers on your alarm clock. It takes a second, but the moment you’re able to process the numbers 8:43 AM, panic immediately floods your every nerve.

“Oh shit!” You shriek as you jolt awake. “No, no, no, no!”

You’re going to be late on the one day you can’t be late. Oh god, you’re going to get an earful from your boss.

Like a speeding bullet, you make a mad scramble for your bathroom, turning on the hot water taps for both your sink and shower all while cursing yourself out.

God, you can’t believe that you slept past your alarm! This is so unlike you, you’ve never slept through your alarm like that. Well…not on an important work day like today that is. It was so unusual, even if you had been sleeping more heavily, the blaring sound of that heinous clock had always gotten you out of bed on the dot before.

Racking your dozy brain for answers, you fiercely stick your toothpaste coated toothbrush into your mouth and hop under the hot spray of the shower. It isn’t until you’re half way done lathering yourself with soap that it hits you. 

You had consumed your last blood pack yesterday morning, and had been so swamped with completing your proposal at work that you had completely forgotten to contact your supplier and restock on your way home last night.

Doing the math in your head, you quickly realize that it has been well over 24 hours since you’d last fed—the longest time you’d gone without blood, and it’s safe to say that your body is already cashing in on the grueling consequences. 

Lethargy and brain fog are your main symptoms, but there’s also that gnawing little sensation of hunger that sits at the pit of your stomach. Occasionally, the sensation bloats, crawling up your spine to tease at the base of your brainstem, coyly stimulating that little feral part of your brain.

Luckily, these are all symptoms that you can manage for the time being. You don’t have any time to stop by your supplier before work, so you’ll just have to hold out until the day is done.

The next five minutes are a blur of toweling, styling, moisturizing and make up—all done poorly but done nonetheless. You tie up your wet hair as best as you can before dashing back to your bedroom. It takes only two additional minutes for you to get dressed in your business attire and out the door, and only another three to make it out of your building and into the nearest cab. 

“JJK Inc, please!”

The driver nods, and you look down to check your watch only to realize that you’ve forgotten it on your nightstand. Cursing under your breath, you reach into your briefcase and pull out your phone, thankful that you didn’t forget that too. 8:58AM. You have exactly two minutes to get to work and you know that this drive takes at least twelve.  

Reaching for your purse, you pull out a couple of the biggest bills you have, and towards the driver’s seat.

“Excuse me mister, I’m in a really big hurry today. Could you please go a little faster than usual? I’ll pay you triple for your trouble.”

The grizzled cab driver makes eye contact with you through his rear view mirror, then his gaze falls to the money in your hand.

“You're bribing me to break the law, ma’am?”

A sheepish little smile spreads across your lips and you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed. If you had just gotten your ass out of bed at the right time, you wouldn’t even be in this situation. 

“Um…well only a little.”

The cab driver snorts and his dry chuckle fills the cabin.

“Unless you’re willing to pay me my year’s salary, we’re getting there in twelve minutes.”

Begrudgingly, you accept that you are now at the complete mercy of the city’s brutal traffic. Your heavy sigh of defeat answers the cab driver well enough, and he turns his attention back to the road while you sag against the back seat. 

That’s it, you’re going to be late for the monthly department meeting. The meeting in which you are scheduled to present your financial proposal for the company’s next fiscal year. You’ve been working so hard on it for the last four months. Way to foster a sense of competence and reliability. Instead you are going to show up ten minutes late, looking like you’d just had a run in with an angry grandmother armed with an umbrella. 

Your eyes land on the phone in your hand. 8:59 AM. Your mouth instantly becomes dry and your panic flares.

You have to text your boss and let him know that you’ll be late for the meeting. Although, truth be told, you'd much rather jump out of the cab and let the oncoming traffic put you out of your misery. 

But despite your shame, you know it’s the right thing to do. Especially since your boss has supported you so diligently throughout the entire year. Staying late nights at the office with you to help crunch data, patiently answering all your questions and never sparing you details that others may think are “over your head”. He never undermines or insults you when you don't understand something and he has proved time and time again to have faith in your competence. 

He may be stern and generally unapproachable, but the subtle emotional support Nanami Kento has given since the first day you walked into JJK Inc means the absolute world to you. 

And…you can't help but feel completely downtrodden at the very idea of letting him down. You’ve actually come to like him. 

A lot. 

…

Maybe a little too much, actually.

You heave out another sigh, hands falling limp on your lap.

Just stop being such a coward. Just call him. He’s not going to fire you over something so miniscule, right?

The cab is suddenly filled with an instrumental little jingle, and your phone begins to buzz in your hand. The sound snaps you out of your thoughts, calling your attention to your device. Your heart nearly stops when you see the name flashing on the display.

Mr. Nanami Kento.

Oh shit.

You’re frozen, suspended in momentary panic as you watch those haunting letters light up with each vibration. Should you let it go to voicemail? What’s worse, getting chewed out now or later? After about half a second of contemplation, you realize that letting the call go to voicemail would only serve to land you in the hottest seat in the house. 

So with trembling fingers, you swipe right on your green call button and bring the phone to your ear.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Our department meeting has started. Where are you?”

Straight to the point, like always.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you resist the urge to twist the fabric of your pencil skirt between your fingers. It’s not even lunchtime yet and your day has gone terribly so far, like you want to add to it by showing up in wrinkled clothes.

“I’m so sorry sir,” You lick your lips, your tongue like sandpaper. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

A pause of silence on both your ends serves to add kindle to your blazing nerves, but you wait patiently for your boss to respond. After a few more beats of silence, Nanami speaks. His tone is low and soft, like he’s pulling you aside for a private little word in a large gathering of people.

“This is unusual for you. Is everything alright?”

A tingling shiver runs down your spine, the rhythm of your heart skipping a beat at the sound of his low and concerned drawl. God, it should be illegal for someone to sound that good—that sensual.

He’s your boss.

So what if he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen? So what if butterflies swarm and swell in your stomach everytime you think about him? So what if his face is the one on your mind when you slowly glide your fingers between your thighs in the dead of night? 

It would never work out between the two of you, despite your fantasies to the contrary. Nanami Kento is a human and you are a vampire. Your life spans are different, your lifestyles are different, and you’d be damned if you dragged a good man like him into the complicated shit storm that is your personal life. 

A soft call of your name gently coaxes you to the surface of your thoughts. Nanami pauses again, but his silent urge for you to proceed is palpable. So you close your eyes, inhale a deep breath, and lie.

“I’m alright sir, thank you for your concern. I just mistakenly slept through my alarm, that’s all. I’ll make my way straight up to the boardroom once I arrive.”

Another beat of silence, then a deep, affirmative hum.

“I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

And the call disconnects.

(xxx)

In spite of your tardiness, the department meeting had gone off without a hitch. In fact, upon your arrival you were elated to discover that not only had a seat been left open for you, but sitting on the table right in front of it was a steaming hot cup of coffee and a singular pain au chocolat wrapped delicately in a brown napkin.

You had nearly cried at the sweetness of the gesture, but managed to hold it together as you took your seat. Once situated, you looked at your coworker, Akari Nitta, and mouthed a ‘thank you’. To your shock, Nitta had then responded with an unsubtle shake of her head and then an even more unsubtle glance towards your boss who stood at the head of the table. 

Your eyes widened, and impulsively your gaze flew towards Nanami Kento. He paused in the middle of his debrief, a single blonde brow rising at your reaction to his gesture. 

Realizing that you were causing a scene, you immediately sunk into your chair and whispered a quiet apology as your face blazed hot. You got out your laptop and focused with all your might on your proposal and its presentation to the department. Fortunately, the presentation went well, garnering you lots of praise from your coworkers, and even a nod of approval from Mr. Nanami himself. 

Now you sit at your desk, feeling simultaneously relieved but also like you’re going to jump out of your skin. The stress from the meeting and the presentation of your proposal have long since passed, however in its place another problem has reared its ugly head. It pokes at your every nerve and buries its claws into your sanity itself.

Hungry…

Eyeing the clock every few seconds, you’re desperately willing for it to go faster. Your hunger for blood has grown exponentially since the morning started—so much so that even your coworkers are beginning to look delicious. Especially one man in particular…

It’s okay. Just make it to lunch, then get a rare steak from the restaurant downstairs and that should appease you until the end of the day.

And yet as each agonizing second ticks by, your hunger only grows and grows, and it’s not long before you start to feel weak and a little bit dizzy.

If you aren’t careful, it won’t take much to trigger a nip at someone’s neck. And given the sexual (and unfortunately sometimes violent) connotations of the act of feeding, you’d really like to avoid that if at all possible. You never want to be in one of those unfortunate situations where a vampire has denied their hunger for too long and sadly ended up attacking a human.

Luckily, you aren’t in dire straits yet as the process of descending into that blood lust-fueled madness takes several days. Still, that doesn’t mean that you’re comfortable and willing to suffer the side effects.

Your eyes once again look at the clock on your laptop’s screen. 11:46AM. Close enough.

Quietly, you put your computer to sleep and stretch, groaning with pleasure under your breath as your tight muscles tense and then relax. 

In a few quick movements, you collect your coat and purse and start to make your way down the hall of cubicles. Once you reach the cubicles of your friends, Nitta and Ijichi, you poke your head in and whisper.

“I’m heading out for lunch, I’ll be back in an hour.”

Ijichi raises an eyebrow, and both he and Nitta exchange a quizzical glance.

“What?” You ask.

“Did you forget? Mr. Nanami is going to take us all out for lunch today.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach.

“He…he is?”

“Weren’t you listening?” Nitta sighs, tossing the document in her hands onto her desk. “Mr. Nanami announced it at the end of our meeting this morning. He said that he wants to treat us to lunch for all of our hard work. Well, all of your hard work.”

“Ours,” You correct firmly. “I wouldn’t have managed it without everyone’s help.”

“Oh, so modest.” Nitta teases. “No wonder you’re Mr. Nanami’s favorite.” 

You roll your eyes. Seriously? Of all the days to—

“I’m not his favorite. Mr. Nanami acknowledges anyone who's done a good job.”

Nitta and Ijichi exchange knowing glances with one another before turning their attention back to you.

“Sure.” They reply in unison, waving your words away like smoke.

Irritated, you decide to end the conversation and continue to make your way down the hall of cubicles and towards the elevator.

“Hey!” You hear Nitta call. “What about lunch? Aren’t you going to join us?”

Not if you can help it. You want to eat lunch alone since being known as the office lady who enjoys eating borderline raw meat isn’t exactly the reputation you’d like to garner for yourself. Plus, having a moment away from the office to clear your head will do you good. 

“Are you declining to join us for lunch?”

Your body jolts at the sound of that familiar, deep voice. Turning around, of course you see none other than Nanami Kento standing a few steps away from you. He approaches you, the differences in your height becoming alarmingly apparent as gets closer. 

And despite the fact that you’ve seen hundreds of handsome men come and go throughout your multiple lifespans, for the briefest of moments you can’t help but feel a little awestruck.

Nanami is so tall compared to you—not to mention built like a bulldozer. Armed with his steely demeanor, freshly pressed suit, polished shoes, perfectly styled hair and the smell of that aftershave that is to die for, you can say with full confidence that there are few men who can hold a candle to Nanami Kento. 

Nanami’s presence has always been nothing short of imposing. No matter which corporate hot shot from the other departments stormed into his office, he would always put them back in their place. In fact, it’s a common sight to watch them scurry down the hidden path of shame between the cubicles, their tail between their legs after they had a meeting with your boss.

“Well?” The soft, honey brown color of Nanami’s eyes does little to counteract the sternness of his expression. He leans in closer, covering you in his shadow. Goosebumps erupt all over your skin as you stifle the lascivious tremor that courses through you.

“Do you have some other previous engagement that you neglected to share?”

As you lock your gaze with Nanami’s, you suffer the briefest moment of weakness. 

You wish you could confide in him who you really are and what you’re going through. You’d give anything to have just one person know the real you. Not the confined and sheltered vampire you used to be, nor the workaholic vampire pretending to be human. Just you. And maybe someone like Nanami would be able to handle it, but you can’t take that risk.

“Um…no. I’m not declining.” You reply. “I’m just uh–really hungry.”

Nanami studies you silently for a moment. The weight of his gaze, taxing and on your already frazzled nerves. He sees more than what he lets on, you’re sure of it. But right as you’re about to squirm under his scrutiny he breaks his stare, then checks his watch before turning towards Nitta and Ijichi.

“Since your colleague seems to be eager to go, let’s make it an early lunch today. I’ll meet you all at the restaurant in ten minutes.”

Then, the three of you silently watch him as he disappears into his office.

Following Nanami’s orders, you wait for Nitta and Ijichi as they pack up and then join you in the journey to the elevator. You are absolutely exhausted, but Nitta looks totally ecstatic. Ijichi, as per usual,follows behind in silence. 

“Lunch on the boss!” Nitta exclaims. “That means we can get anything we want, right?”

“I don’t think that’s very good manners, Miss Nitta.” Ijichi advises as he hits the call button. “Mr. Nanami is already being generous enough as it is.”

“Awww,” Nitta pouts. “You’re no fun, Ijichi.”

Nitta looks at you, her friendly smile widening.

“What do you think? We should indulge ourselves today, don’t you think?”

You shake your head.

“I think Ijichi is right, we shouldn’t take advantage of him. Even if he can afford it.”

Nitta scrunches her nose and crosses her arms with a half-hearted huff. 

“Oh all right. It was mostly a joke anyway.”

(xxx)

The sky has long since darkened, the only thing illuminating the horizon now is the glowing moon and pink and blue neon lights from the city. 

You had said goodbye to your coworkers as they trickled out of the office hours ago, wishing that you could have joined them. But your proposal needs finalizing and Nanami’s final seal of approval before you can call it a day. He gave you until 10:00PM tonight to finish it. 

A tired groan escapes your lips as you focus on easing the tension in your shoulders. You give your eyes a break from staring at the screen as you reach your arms up for a good stretch. As you move, you glance at the empty cubicles around you. Admittedly, it’s strange and a little spooky being the only one in the office at night, but luckily you aren’t alone. Nanami is holed up in his office at the end of the hall and he has made it clear that you are welcome to come and find him if you need anything.

Letting your arms fall back down after that long stretch, you reach for the steaming mug sitting by your computer and bring it to your lips for a sip. The remainder of the tension in your body eases as the comforting scent of peppermint wafts up your nose.

It’s so liberating being out on your own and away from the pressures of your family. While you hold no hatred in your heart for them, being at the mercy of their tyrannical sheltering in combination with all the stifling traditions, gaslighting, and the social pressure that came with being a member of the royal family, was a torture that you are grateful to no longer endure. 

In that place, you were nothing more than an ornament— a possession. All you amounted to in their eyes was something pretty to perch on a pedestal and look at. Back there you had no right to your own words, or thoughts, or feelings, or even to your own body.

Then that one fateful night the incident occurred and you finally reached your breaking point. You ran away, smuggling yourself out of your family’s compound and into the big, wide outside world you’ve only ever seen from a distance. 

Admittedly, it had been very difficult in the beginning since your sheltered past had left you with little survival skills, but thanks to the friendships you had developed and the stability offered by your work, you found yourself thriving within half a year’s time.

Gazing out of one of the office windows, you admire the beautiful glowing moon. The callous words of the people you once called “family” resurface in your mind.

“The world is dangerous. Those humans and the other vampires are savages. They’ll eat us alive.”

“Careful. Don’t want to misbehave now do we? It would be terrible if the hunters got a whisper of your whereabouts.”

“There’s no way someone like you could survive on their own.”

They couldn’t have been more wrong. And you’re so proud of yourself for being able to prove that each and every day. You were born a royal to the vampire world and a monster to the human one, but you are the master of your own mind, body and soul. No one has the right to tell you who you are.

A sudden growling sound interrupts your contemplation. Startled, you look down as your stomach tightens and twists painfully, immediately alerting you to the culprit.

The hunger is creeping back with a vengeance. The time you bought is running out.

Luckily, the lunch you’d ordered did the trick in satiating your appetite throughout the afternoon. 

Unfortunately though, you now have to carry the lifelong joy of replaying the scene of your very confused and concerned coworkers asking you if you were okay after you had ordered an “exceptionally rare” blue steak with a straight face. 

God, the complete silence that had fallen over the table as the waiter brought out the practically bleeding slab of meat and placed it in front of you had been mortifying. It ended up stalling your appetite and—you imagined—the appetites of your coworkers.

As the silence persisted, you remember practically feeling the secret glances your colleagues sent towards you and to one another. Your cheeks had grown hot, and your mouth as dry as a desert as both embarrassment and anxiety sat heavy in the pit of your stomach. Flustered, you felt compelled to apologize and make up some kind of excuse.

“Sorry. I ah…grew up on a beef farm and it wasn’t unusual for us to eat meat like this.”

But then, your boss speaks up and effectively breaks the tense atmosphere with a single statement.

“There is no need for you to apologize or explain your preferences.”

And that had been the end of it.

Gently placing your mug of tea back down, you make quick work of replacing your smudged lipstick before leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes. Of course, the first and only thing your fevered mind conjures is him.

You wish that your thoughts could stay in the realm of innocent admiration, but as your hunger grows and your brain juggles the phenomenon that is Nanami Kento, all your thoughts go straight to the gutter. A sweet lick of heat pulses between your legs and you clench your thighs, groaning quietly in your attempts to stifle it.

You want Nanami Kento. You’ve always wanted him. You have tried so hard to keep your feelings and lewd fantasies under control, but like opening Pandora’s box, your hunger has revealed the truth of your longing.

The way that man sternly commands a room. How he simultaneously supports and takes responsibility for those around him, how caring he can be despite the subtlety of his emotions. All of these are the qualities that have drawn you to him. 

But that being said, Nanami’s physical qualities are nothing to scoff at either. The way that man rolls up his sleeves while he’s hard at work, or how his strong brows furrow when he’s faced with a particularly complex situation. The large breadth of his hands and shoulders, the smell of his aftershave and skin, how unbelievably mouth-watering he looks in those form fitting dress shirts with that perfect blonde hair just slightly tousled…

The roar of your hunger intensifies, and you can feel your fangs throb and start to emerge.

Oh no.

You inhale deeply, fingers digging into the seat of your chair. You lick your teeth in a foolhardy attempt to help yourself settle down. But the fire in your body sparks and burns brighter, your lust for blood and a certain CFO flaring with a vengeance. Your body is punishing you for daring to distract it with some cheap imitation, especially when the person that you truly want to sink your teeth into is just down the hall.

Ignoring the dampness between your legs, you take a series of long deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself. Then, once you manage to get that burning lust to taper, you exhale a sigh, place your fingers on the keyboard, and force yourself to ignore their trembling. 

You are going to finalize this proposal. 

You are going to email it to your boss.

You are going to review it with him and finally put this project to rest.

Then you are going to climb into his lap and wrap your arms around him before latching onto that delicious notch between his neck and shoulder and…

Stop it.

You give your head a furious shake and force yourself to focus on the numbers on the screen. You are going to be done by 10:00 PM, come heaven or high water.

True to your promise to yourself, you work furiously into the night, but by 9:40 PM your blood withdrawal symptoms return with full force. The trembling in your hands has spread to the rest of your body making it significantly harder for you to focus. You're starting to sweat down your back and between your breasts and your heart’s rhythm quickens as the sweet ache in your sex only grows.

Intrusive flashes of your lewd, late night fantasies of Nanami play in your mind on repeat and the feeling of your elongating teeth scratching against your lower lip makes your actions all the hastier.

Almost there… 

Through sheer force of will, you finish the last portion of your proposal ten minutes before your personal deadline. Breathing a sigh of relief, you quickly send Nanami an email, letting him know that it’s ready and that you’ll make your way to his office to discuss it. Only one nail biting minute goes by before he sends his reply. 

“I have time now.”

You’ve never been more thankful for Nanami’s punctuality and curtness. Closing your laptop, you stand up and immediately your body sways. You grab the desk, steadying yourself as you’re suddenly demobilized by the onset of a pounding headache that swallows all sound and blurs your vision. 

Shit, you’re going to pass out.

Tightening your grip, you try to focus on your breathing.

It’s okay. You’re okay. Just go in there and finish this. Then you can contact your supplier, go home and pass out.

You hold on to your desk for dear life and wait for your hearing and vision to return. Once they do, you thank all your lucky stars.

Knowing you don’t have a lot of time left, you grab your laptop and immediately make your way towards Nanami’s office. Your knees tremble with each step you take and you grip your laptop close to your chest for fear of dropping it.

Almost done. Just a little more.

You knock once you reach Nanami’s office.

“Come in.”

Clenching your hand around the doorknob, you take a deep breath to help steady yourself before opening the door and stepping inside. 

The office is warm, almost cozy with its dimly lit atmosphere. With the exception of a singular lamp that sits on the far left of his desk, Nanami’s computer screen is the only other source of illumination in the room.

Nanami’s office is quite tasteful, with the exception of a few decorative items it’s filled with only the essentials that the man needs to do his job. Nanami himself sits at his desk, his brows furrowed as he pours over the documents on his desk.

Despite your sorry state, you can’t help but steal another moment to admire him. 

God, he really is breathtaking, the dim light betraying you by slyly highlighting his best features. Combed blonde hair that beckons your fingertips, rolled up sleeves revealing the powerful, veiny arms beneath, his sharp brown eyes that never miss a detail, and those strong and chiseled features of his, Nanami makes you weak in the knees every time. 

Standing silently at the door’s threshold, you wait for Nanami’s tired eyes to look up. Once his gaze meets yours, he exhales a heavy sigh. Your tongue swipes along the throbbing tips of your fangs as you watch him lean back in his hair, all raw masculinity and tempered power as he removes his glasses and rubs his eyes.

“Let’s have a look at it then.” 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you make your way deeper into his office, fingers clenching around your laptop as you pray for your legs not to give out. 

The moment you reach Nanami’s desk, his warm and tantalizing scent hits you like a freight train. You can practically feel the steady beat of his heart on your tongue. The painfully throbbing ache in your fangs increases as your vision blurs again for another brief second.

Calling upon the strength of your willpower once more, you manage to suppress the raging hunger inside you for just a little longer. Your lips press into a thin worried line and without a word, you place your laptop on Nanami’s desk, turn it to face him, and open it to show him your finalized proposal.

But Nanami’s attention is focused squarely on you. Those brown eyes of his feel like they are slowly taking you apart and then putting you back together again. Maddeningly. Piece by piece.

You’re on the verge of screaming, or bolting out of his office by the time your boss glances at the screen you’d presented to him.

The wait is torture. You have to resist the urge to chew your lip, hiding your trembling fingers behind your back in a desperate attempt to conceal your distress. It feels like an eternity before Nanami’s attention finally returns to you. He pins you again with that intense stare of his, holding you captive like a wriggling insect caught in a spider’s web.

Then, Nanami breaks the silence and you are surprised to see both that intense stare and the harshness of his tone soften. 

“You’re unwell.”

A statement, not a question. Nanami’s words are enough to freeze the words in your throat. He saw right through you. Of course, he did. 

Desperately trying to save face, you scramble for the words to deflect Nanami’s astute observation.

“I’m perfectly fine.”

Wow. Phenomenal.

Nanami sighs, his heavy hand reaching up to gently close your laptop. Your eyes linger for a second too long on his thick fingers before your body stiffens at the thought of being caught. 

The sound of a chair sliding against the floor makes your heart jump. Your breath stalls as Nanami stands up from his seat and circles the desk towards you. He stops his advance when your bodies are only mere inches apart. 

Then he leans down and whispers,

“Don’t lie to me.”

Instantly, your senses come alive. You feel your fangs extend fully in your mouth as your eyes latch hungrily onto Nanami’s throat. His intoxicating scent, the thick muscle of his body, and the pulsing veins beneath his skin all have your mouth practically watering. 

“You’re unwell.” Nanami continues. “In fact, you’ve been unwell since yesterday.”

Nanami hit the nail on the head. There’s no point in keeping secrets anymore. Twisting your fingers behind your back, you have no choice but to answer him.

“I uh—”

You pause and study Nanami’s expression. 

He’s patiently waiting, his gaze unwavering from yours. It’s firm and solid, but beneath that stoic professionalism you can see a flicker of warmth and understanding. And even though you are currently in the hot seat—panicked and on the edge of being exposed—you also feel strangely at ease.

“I’m anemic so uh…just feeling a little faint. It runs in my family.”

Nanami’s expression shifts into one of undisguised doubt. 

“Anemia. That’s what’s left you in this state?”

You slowly nod. Your tongue darts out in an attempt to moisten your lips before carrying on with your explanation.

“It’s not that bad, really. I’m just tired and a little dizzy. I’ll be able to finish up this proposal and then I’ll go h—.”

And then in an ultimate gesture of betrayal, your body starts to sway again. Your pounding head begins to feel light, sounds disappearing once more as your vision blurs and then goes completely black.

Fortunately, in the midst of all this you still have enough of your wits to make a grab for Nanami’s desk and steady yourself. 

Unfortunately however, you end up missing the desk entirely and instead are sent plummeting into the awaiting arms of gravity. Or at least, you would have been, had Nanami Kento not used his own arms to scoop you up and keep you from falling.

The feeling of Nanami’s arms around you is enough to bring you back. Your vision returns and your entire body freezes as alarm bells go off in your head. You’re reaching your limit. 

The heat of Nanami’s body radiates through yours, turning the blaze inside you into a raging inferno and reigniting the sweet ache in your core. Your fangs throb and your sex pulses as your arousal pools in that private little space between your thighs.

God, you want him. You want to taste him and fuck him so badly you feel like you’re going to go insane.

“You’re not fine,” Nanami’s tone is low, almost sensual. “You’re on the verge of passing out.”

“N–no, I’m—”

Nanami cradles you closer, shouldering the entirety of your body weight as he holds you steady against him. He guides your body towards his desk, leveraging you against it before securely wrapping his grip around your waist. Your head falls on his shoulder. Exhausted, you surrender everything.

“I–I’m sorry.” You whisper, fingers tightening around his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself against the rabid haze that’s taking over every last lick of sense you possess.

Fuck, he smells so good.

Then without a word of warning, Nanami abruptly picks you up and sits you on his desk. Your pencil skirt naturally rides up your thighs as he slots himself between your knees.

The next words that fall from Nanami Kento’s lips change your life forever.

“Eat me.”

Both your heart and breath stop for what feels like an eternity. Your eyes widen as your mind struggles to process the meaning of Nanami’s words. Eat him? What does he mean by that? Surely he can’t be talking about…

“W-what?”

Nanami leans in closer.

“You need blood and I have an abundant supply.”

Panic, hot and sharp, stabs right through your chest. 

Holy shit. He knows. 

You had taken so many painstaking precautions to conceal your true identity and had done everything in your power to make sure that your secret was kept safe. How did Nanami Kento discover it? Had you slipped up at some point? Or had you been outed by a member of your family? 

The venomous words of your father, the ones that he always used to threaten you with, ring like a gong in your head.

“Careful. Don’t want to misbehave now do we? It would be terrible if the hunters got a whisper of your whereabouts.”

It all snaps into place.

Breathless and freshly teary eyed, you look up at your boss.

“You’re a hunter.”

Nanami’s jaw clenches, hard bone grinding beneath tight skin. Then finally, he nods.

“I am.”

You do your best to try and make a break for it, wriggling to the best of your ability out of Nanami’s hold. But the man’s grip is like iron and your body is too weak. All you manage to do in the midst of your trepidation is dishevel your clothing and bring your body closer to his.

Nanami silently holds you captive, his expression betraying nothing as he watches the rebellious little fire inside you snuff out, surrendering to the merciless gale of your starved exhaustion.

Only when your body stills does he speak again.

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t harm you. I will never harm you.”

Frustrated and distraught tears roll down your cheeks, your fingers grip and twist the pristinely pressed dress shirt covering Nanami’s chest. More lies. For once in your life won’t someone just tell you the truth? 

“Stop lying to me. You’re a hunter. Killing vampires is what you hunters do, right?”

Nanami pauses, his lips thinning as he contemplates his answer.

“Yes.” He finally admits.

Your heart sinks, despair tightening your chest as the realization dawns on you that perhaps all the kindness and support that Nanami had shown you throughout your time at JJK Inc had been part of an elaborate ruse. Easing you into some false sense of security before finding the perfect moment to take you out.

And as you look at him, tightly cradled in his grasp and unable to escape, you wish that you could be anywhere else right now.

“If you’re going to kill me just do it already.”

 A tired sigh falls from your boss's lips, his left hand coming up to rub at the bridge of his nose. You follow the motion, gaze lingering on the plains of his handsome face. The bags under his eyes are a bit more prominent than usual.

“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Right,” You sniff, voice frail and taunt as you fight back against your tears. Nanami Kento is the last person on earth you want to see you cry.  

“So said everyone else.”

The weight of Nanami’s grip leaves your side, and when you feel both of his hands gently cup the sides of your face, you practically melt. Nanami’s hands are warm and comforting and they soothe away your fear and despair. He regards you gently, smoothing his thumbs along the soft edge of your cheekbones—wiping away your tears.

“I’m not just anyone.”

Nanami releases you and you watch, spellbound, as his fingers reach for that signature leopard print tie. Your eyes widen and your heart pounds, the beat roaring in your ears as he loosens the flimsy article of clothing with a single elegant movement.

“Now,” His words are stern, deep. Undeniable in their finality. 

“Eat.”

As Nanami loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt, your eyes immediately land on the thick column of his throat.

“You—” Another swallow as the saliva in your mouth begins to flow and pool. “You don’t know what you’re offering…”

“I know perfectly well what I’m offering. Take it.”

Your body grows hot to the touch—near feverish as your arousal reignites. Your grip tightens, grasping at his shirt as you desperately resist the animalistic urge to just sink your teeth into Nanami’s thick flesh without a drop of restraint.

“Mr. Nanami…”

His hand reaches up again and he cups your chin, thumb gently tracing along your slack bottom lip, smudging the lipstick you’d replaced just an hour before. You shudder as his thumb precariously brushes against one of your exposed fangs.

“I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve never drank blood from another person before.” You confess in a hushed whisper. “The rules around feeding where I come from are very strict and the act itself can be very…intimate.” 

Nanami’s hand glides to the back of your head then down to your neck. His touch is electric–addicting–like a hit of pure ecstasy.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed with me.”

You shyly lick your teeth and avert your gaze to the glowing doorway. You’re stalling and he knows it.

Nanami leans down, the feeling of his warm breath caressing the side of your face as you teeter on the edge of unchained desire.

“Go ahead.” Nanami coaxes. “Eat.”

And with no more words, you arch your body upwards, open your mouth, and then sink your teeth into your boss’ neck. Nanami grunts, and the moment his blood touches your tongue every inch of you sings.

Nanami’s taste is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. It’s rich and warm, powerful and potent. Like a spiced wine only served to those with the most expensive palates. And as his blood flows your mouth it invigorates you with a heat that is as searing and as all consuming as that of the sun.

A lewd moan bubbles in your throat as you instinctively draw him closer, lips latching and sucking hungrily against his neck. Nanami responds with a moan of his own as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close and pressing the entirety of your body against his.

You cradle him between your soft thighs, hands reaching under his arms and around to his back so that your fingers can dig into the delicious muscle they find there. 

Nanami’s heart pounds against your tongue, feeding you all the more as you deliberately press the swell of your breasts against him. The sweet softness of your panty covered pussy is next, and you’re so love drunk, so caught up in the moment that you don’t even think twice about rubbing yourself against the growing tent in his pants.

Nanami's deep groan in response to your actions makes your pussy clench. He leans forward, pushing you down until your back hits the polished mahogany desk he’d perched you on. His heavy hands slam against the wood as he climbs on top, steadying himself against the shuddering waves of bliss that tear through him.

Perhaps you’re taking a little too much…

With a pleased sigh, you release Nanami’s throat, kissing the little red wounds you’d left there before trying to pull away. But Nanami’s hand slips under your head, cupping the back of it and ushering you back to that bite mark.

“Keep going,” His voice is low and raw, rumbling like a thunderstorm on the horizon, on the verge of losing his restraint.

“Don’t stop until you’re full, darling.”

That sweet and genuine term of affection nearly knocks the air out of your lungs, and you can’t help but whimper wantingly. You’ve never wanted anyone like this before. 

Staring into his eyes, your hands wrap around Nanami’s body again. Your fingers sink back into their rightful place along the muscles of his back before you tilt your mouth back up towards his neck.

Then, greedily, you sink your teeth back into Nanami’s flesh.

“That’s it.” He praises, lips pressing comfortingly against your temple. “Good girl. Take what you need.”

An intoxicating cocktail of love and lust roars inside of you, intensifying with each swallow. You’ve had your fair share of selfish lovers and cold sheets, but never anything like this…never something so hot and wild and that felt so fucking right.

Another wave of intoxicating ardor sizzles along your skin and your body responds by arching against him, rubbing yourself lewdly against his hard cock.

Nanami growls, the deep sound curling your toes as the hands he had rested by your head curl tightly into fists.

“Touch me.” You plead, licking a wicked stipe up his throat.

Cursing under his breath, Nanami pushes your skirt up to your waist, exposing your soaked cotton panties. His hands find your hips, tightening in a vice grip as he angles you just right before beginning to rut his clothed length against your pussy.

You lick the bruised bite mark on Nanami’s neck in apology before laying back down on the desk, arching and moaning as you’re overcome by the hot friction between your bodies. 

You’re dizzy, blissed out and utterly intoxicated as you grind your sex against his. The hurried rustle of fabric and the stifled moans from both of your lips rises like the sweetest music.

Nanami’s eyes meet yours, a low groan rumbling in his chest as his hands travel up your waist. Abruptly, he pulls you down, forcing your sensitive pussy harder against his throbbing cock. You can practically feel him pulse between your folds.

Crying out, you grasp onto Nanami as he hikes up your leg over his shoulder, exposing you further before surrendering the weight of his massive body onto your smaller one. Pinning you deliciously on that desk and grinding against you with animalistic fervor, he makes you feel breathless and trapped, but oh so far from helpless.

“M–Mr. Nanami…p-please, don’t stop.”

“Not until you come,” Nanami promises, licking his bottom lip before popping his thumb into your wet mouth.

Moaning, you instinctively bite into the fleshy pad. When you catch a glimpse of Nanami’s jaw clenching, his eyes glued to the seductive glimmer of your fangs biting deliciously into his flesh, you nearly come then and there. 

“Harder,” Nanami commands, snapping his hips against you and hitting your swollen clit with the head of his cock just right. 

Mewling with pleasure, you sink your fangs into his thumb and Nanami shudders. The pleasured purr that leaves him is one of the most erotic things you’ve ever heard in your life.

“Good girl.”

He thrusts against you harder now and your combined moans harmonize as the two of you lose yourselves. The hot coil in your stomach tightens as you roll your hips, grinding against Nanami desperately while spreading your legs wider to accommodate his size. 

“Suck,” Nanami groans. “Suck on me as you come.”

Eagerly, you suck his thumb into your mouth, eyes drooping with euphoria as the taste of his blood couples with the force of your oncoming orgasm.

“N–Nanami,” You whimper sloppily–pathetically—around his finger, drool falling from the side of your mouth. 

“C–coming–I’m going to come—ah!!!”

Nanami pulls his thumb from your mouth, but not before gliding it along your lipstick smudged lips and coating them in his flavour. 

Thrusting his hips against you one last time, he leans down and claims your mouth with his, swallowing your scream of ecstasy as you come in his arms.

“That’s it,” Nanami coos, the pleasured hum in his throat lulling you in tandem with the tender little kisses he presses to your lips “Hold onto me, baby.”

And you do, for dear life, until the last pulse of your pleasure fades and you’re left a completely exhausted mess on Nanami Kento’s desk.

The two of you stare at one another in that dim light, chests heaving and cheeks burning. Wondering if he came too, you look down at Nanami’s beige slacks. You almost die of embarrassment when you realize how drenched you’d made them.

“Did you come?” You ask him.

Nanami’s low, rumbling chuckle is your answer.

You’re about to protest and are ready to offer your body so that he can have his pleasure too, but Nanami halts your words by pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

It was one of the sweetest gestures you’d ever been gifted.

“Next time, darling.”

dividers by @/saradika

---

Crying myself to sleep 🥰🥰

"You know, Nanamin," Yuuji started, between mouthfuls, "when we first met, I thought I wouldn't like you at all."

Kento raised one thin eyebrow over the rim of his paper-cup coffee. He sat with you, and Yuuji, at a dirt road Conbini overlooking Tokyo. The sun was setting, casting the city as a silhouette against oranges, purples. You could smell the earthy petrichor of an incoming storm. Yuuji did not mind, thoughtful as he slurped at an instant ramen.

"Like, really," Yuuji continued, his mouth puckered up, "I thought you were boring. Unfunny, grumpy, miserable. Maybe even a little bit mean." Yuuji laughed now, becoming gradually more animated as he set the scene. "And when you tried to lecture me, while I was fighting that curse? Insane. I was like, 'Who the hell is this guy?'"

You covered your mouth, hiding a smile, eyes flicking between your unreadable husband, and the bubbling boy opposite him. Yuuji finished laughing, wiping his eyes and sighing into another slurp of noodles.

You placed a surreptitious hand on Kento's thigh under the table, and he barely reacted, but to tense and cross his arms. Yuuji rested his chin on one hand, eyes softening as he looked over the ant-like lights, moving in scattered formation across the city.

"But then...I realised. You just cared. I mean, really cared. About me. And if I wasn't being treated right. And if I was gonna be okay." Yuuji swallowed, his voice thickening. "And I...didn't have anyone left like that. The only person I ever did have was my grandad, and maybe he just took care of me because he had to, y'know? But you chose to. Even though I'm...I'm a monster."

You saw Kento squirm within. You knew he'd had his misgivings about Sukuna's Vessel, before Kento knew him as Yuuji. You knew the shame and guilt Kento carried for that. His shoulders ached, a pall-bearer of emotions for so many.

"And you're hilarious. Anyone can see it, really. And you're a rebel. And a protester. And you stand up for the little guy when nobody else wants to. And you don't do it to make us like you. You just...believe it's right. And don't get me wrong, I like Gojo-sensei too, but I love you."

You pursed your lips, closing your eyes and trying not to tear up on Kento's behalf. Kento remained silent, arms crossed and frowning down at his steaming coffee. Yuuji looked at you, uncertain. You gently flapped one hand; don't worry, you're alright, you're okay.

Kento eventually broke his silence, his voice gruff. He pushed his bank card across the table to Yuuji.

"Itadori-kun." Yuuji sat to attention, wide-eyed. "Go and get yourself some snacks. As much as you like. And the other students, too, if you know what they'd want."

Yuuji took the card in confusion, with both hands and a little bow, and disappeared inside the shop, the automatic doors booping behind him.

Kento stood, your hand falling off his lap, and grasped the metal railings overlooking the city, with his back to you. His shoulders were taut, stiff, occasionally hitching with emotion. You felt him, as you always had.

"...Kento? Are you alright?"

A thick swallow and a sniffle before a single gravelly, "Yeah. I'm fine, I...I'm fine."

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