Work Text:
Nanami keeps to a simple routine: gym after work Sunday through Thursday, laundry on Saturday, and takeout for dinner on Friday.
Fridays are for you.
A sweet smile greets him when he clicks on your stream, just as it always does. You never fail to perk up when you see his name appear in the chat.
“K! You’re here!” you squeal, bouncing on your bed with a little wave.
As if he’s ever missed a stream in the last two months.
K7390: Hi, beautiful.
Every Friday night at 8:00, Nanami watches you bring yourself to orgasm over and over again until you’re exhausted. It’s the highlight of his usually monotonous week. He can close his eyes and pretend it’s him drawing those sinful sounds out of you; or he can focus on the toy you’re riding hard, picturing you stretched out on his dick and begging him for more.
Money well spent, in his opinion.
You’re just using your hands tonight, none of your plethora of toys visible in the shot. These are his favorite shows. It’s never enough, not when you’re always so desperate to be full. Your pathetic little whines are his favorite sound in the world.
Nanami undoes his belt as you start the tip counter, pinching your bare nipple with a wink. “Shall we get started?”
He’s patient, not touching himself while you cajole and flirt your way to your goal. It never takes long, but he wants this to last as long as possible. And it’s so difficult. You’re in the tiniest pair of mesh shorts that leave nothing to the imagination—especially when you turn around and arch your back, letting your head and torso rest on the bed.
Your hands play with the hem of your shorts as it digs into your plush ass, pulling the fabric away just to let it snap back. Sitting up and spreading your knees wide, you tug the waistband down a little. Your face peers back at the camera with a small smile over your shoulder.
“These’ll come off once we hit goal,” you promise. “Just a little bit more?”
Nanami waits until the counter is halfway there before sending the rest of the money. His screen name changes to blue, showing his status as your highest tipper of the night. He could have sent it earlier or even paid the full amount at the beginning; it would have been a shame to miss your teasing little act.
Your grin widens as you hear the chime alerting you of the goal being hit. You turn around and blow a kiss at the camera. “Thank you, K! I know I can always count on you!”
The private show starts, pulling all the contributors into another chat. Nanami finally unzips his pants before tugging them and his boxers down. He hisses at the chill of the air, hurrying to cup his hardening length.
He’s not the only one undressing. Sitting with your back to the camera again, you slide your shorts down slowly, stopping when the waistband sits just below the curve of your ass. You pull the fabric taut so it makes the already enticing sight even more erotic.
“Finally,” you sigh. The earpiece you wear captures every sound you make and lets you hear the chat when you’re otherwise occupied. “This week was rough.”
Nanami can tell you’re not just putting on a show based on the way you seem to have no patience for teasing yourself tonight. The shorts are discarded, leaving you naked on your knees. One hand slips down to work yourself slowly, though still quicker than you normally start off with. The other braces you against the bed as you lean back to provide a better view.
K7390: You seem frustrated, sweetheart.
You whine softly, biting down on your lower lip. “Yeah. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t cum since last week.”
Nanami nearly groans when you pick up the pace and he gives into stroking his throbbing cock. Typing with one hand is a skill he’s picked up after all these shows with you.
K7390: Poor thing. Someone as lovely as you deserves to be fucked well and often.
His words have the intended effect: a moan slips out of your lips and you close your eyes, touching yourself faster. You sit up to free your other hand, rolling a nipple between your fingers.
“You’re such a sweet-talker, K. When’re you gonna do an exclusive show with me so I can finally hear you?”
Nanami’s never let himself do a one-on-one show with you. It’s too…intimate, especially given that he’s already this attached. Part of him worries actually talking to you would be more addictive than he could take.
K7390: Not tonight, beautiful. Grab the lube and fuck yourself on those pretty fingers for me.
You’re quick to comply, pushing a second finger in before you finish pulling out the first. When he first started watching you, it was clear you preferred to be ass up on your knees. You never spent too long in that position after he told you how much he liked to see your face.
“Fuck, I need it,” you whine. “I wanna hear you. ‘S not fair you get to see what you do to me and I don’t.”
Nanami roughly grabs the base of his dick, gasping as your pleas echo in his head. You’ve never been this demanding and it’s ruining him.
K7390: You that desperate for me, angel? All this attention and you still want more?
Two fingers become three and your thighs start to twitch. Nanami knows you’re close. He’s so familiar with the different sounds of your moans that he could probably pinpoint exactly how long until you cum to the second. But he’s more focused on your tense face as you work your other hand above your busy fingers.
“Please, please, please—I’ll be good, promise! Just wanna hear your voice.”
It’s maddening how much your begging undoes him. He’s on the edge embarrassingly quickly. The tears gathered in your eyes have his hips bucking into his hand.
K7390: If you can hold off until I finish counting, I’ll take you exclusive tonight. 5
You cry out, trembling all over as you nod frantically. “I can do it.”
The rest of the chat seems to be split into two camps: one cheering on your reactions to Nanami and the other seething with envy. Neither of you pay them any mind.
Nanami looks away from the screen to spit in his hand, wanting to finish with you.
K7390: 4
Your knees look about ready to give out, but you keep yourself upright. “Please, I’m so close.”
His hand matches the pace of your fingers sliding in and out of you. The stretch of them isn’t anywhere as big as it would be if it was his cock hitting that spot that makes your eyes roll back, but he can appreciate the sight.
K7390: 3 just a little longer baby
Nanami can’t focus on getting his typing right, but proper commas can be damned when you’re waiting on him to allow you to cum.
“So good, fuck,” you groan, dropping your head back.
K7390: eyes over here you know better than that
Your head snaps up again. “Sorry! Please—“
K7390: 2
The tears finally slip down your cheeks. Nanami can feel his own orgasm about to snap from your crying.
K7390: 1 cum baby
“Yes, thank you, fuck, ohh,” you break off with a moan, spasming on the bed as your release rushes over you.
Nanami lets himself cum to the sight of your blissed out face, groaning harshly as he fucks up into his fist. You fall back on the bed, fingers still thrusting slowly inside you.
“Better keep your promise,” you breathe out.
Your words combined with a tight twist over the head of his cock makes Nanami whimper. More cum dribbles out of the slit and his eyes roll back into his head.
He pulls away when it becomes too much, watching you sit up to clean your mess off your fingers with your tongue. He really agreed to an exclusive show tonight. Thinking with his dick, as usual when it came to you.
It’s not about the money. He makes enough that he can spend whatever he wants on you. It’s about that damnable flutter in his chest when you smile just for him. He’s attached and doesn’t want to encourage that. This is just business for you, nothing more.
“I’m gonna grab some water and then come back,” you say, a satisfied grin blooming on your face. “K, you better be here or I’ll throw a fit.”
K7390: I’ll be here, beautiful.
The sparkle in your eyes pushes away his doubt for the moment, enough for him to clean himself up and move his laptop to his bed. Fuck, are you going to want to see him?
Nanami is not a self-conscious man; he’s well-aware of what genetics and a strict gym routine have given him. But there’s cum all over his button-up and he’s drenched in sweat.
He quickly tosses off his clothes, pulling out a clean pair of grey boxer-briefs and a white t-shirt. He yanks the clothes on and scrambles for a towel to dry off with. The “be right back!” sign on your stream taunts him into moving faster. His hair can’t be saved, but he combs it back with his fingers anyway.
Headphones. He needs to find his fucking headphones before—
“Hi!” your voice chirps from his laptop.
Nanami dives back into bed just in time, his headphone case clenched in his fist.
Oddly enough, you’re wrapped up in a fluffy blanket.
_K7390: Still on for this? _
You nod enthusiastically, grinning into the camera. “Yep!”
Nanami takes a deep breath and clicks the button for an exclusive show. Immediately, it’s just you and him in the chat room.
“You can click the speaker button to turn your audio on and the little camera for, well, your camera,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck.
Fortune favors the bold or something like that. Nanami pops a headphone in and clicks on the camera.
Your eyes widen when his video turns on. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he repeats, cursing himself for how rough it comes out.
“Nice to finally meet you,” you tease.
Nanami raises an eyebrow, adjusting the angle of his laptop so you can better see his face. “I think we’re pretty well acquainted.”
That gets him a delighted laugh. His cheeks burn at the sound.
“My turn for a show?” The tilt of your smile does damage to his heart.
Thirty seconds in and he’s already gone. This was definitely a bad idea.
“If you’d like,” he replies, tugging his shirt over his head.
Your lips part, tongue darting out to wet them. Your attraction is gratifying, especially when your eyes track his hand sliding down his chest to cup himself through his boxers.
“I think I should be the one paying,” you mutter almost to yourself.
Nanami tsks, rolling his hips into his hand. “Not fair that I’m nearly stripped down and you’re still bundled up, even though you do look adorable.”
“Oh!” You jolt out of your trance, shaking your head slightly. “I just wanted it to be a surprise.”
The blanket falls off your shoulders to reveal deep blue lace. A tiny thong clings to your hips, framed by a garter belt and stockings. You’ve left your top half bare, save for a matching lace collar.
“You look incredible,” manages Nanami. Your eyes don’t miss the way he presses his hand down harder.
You bite your bottom lip, seeming to hesitate.
“What is it, angel?” He almost doesn’t hear your response.
“I got it with you in mind.”
Nanami hums something just short of a moan. You take the opportunity to continue.
“You remember when I asked you your favorite color?” Over a month ago, actually. “I bought this for when I finally got to meet you.”
He’s fully hard now, your honeyed words and hesitant smile nearly turning him on more than your fingers toying with the lace.
“And you accuse me of being a sweet-talker,” he teases, desperately wanting the upper hand so you don’t completely wreck him.
He knows he’s already lost when you pull out a matching vibrator. This one is new, obviously bought to complete the set.
“Mm, can you blame me for being excited?”
Nanami laughs, removing his hand to pull his boxers off. “Undo those bows for me, sweetheart.”
The little scrap of lace is gone in a flash, leaving you in just the garters and stockings. And the collar, of course.
“This is special, actually,” you say, waving the vibrator. “See the panel on the side of the screen?”
It clicks in his head instantly, despite the lack of blood flowing to his brain. “I can control it?”
“Yep!” You bring it up to your lips and run your tongue over the tip. “I haven’t played with one of these before, but I thought it would be fun.”
Another thing you got just for him. If he hadn’t just cum not thirty minutes ago, he’d probably be spilling untouched.
“Aren’t you so good for me?” he coos, loving the way your eyes flutter shut. “All this just for me?”
You hum in agreement, sucking the tip of the toy in your mouth. Nanami lets himself start to stroke his cock slowly. You wanted to hear him, so he’ll keep talking until you break.
“That’s it, you can take more. So pretty with your mouth full like that.”
The praise makes you squirm but you don’t reach down to touch yourself. Nanami tightens his grip as your clear obedience makes his head spin. You take the toy all the way in your mouth to the base, gagging slightly when it breaches your throat.
“There you go,” he sighs, cock pulsing at the sound of your struggling. “So good for me.”
You pull the toy free with a gasp. “K, please…”
Truthfully, he’s just as eager as you, but watching you beg with your eyes fixed on his dick is intoxicating.
“Please, what?” he asks idly. “Use your words, beautiful.”
You groan, fisting your fingers in your sheets as he continues to lazily stroke his cock. “You’re evil. I should’ve known you’d be ten times worse when I can hear you and that’s not even to mention your voice.”
Nanami laughs. Your little fit is adorable. “What about my voice?”
“It’s all deep and warm and fuck you could make a killing selling audios,” you whine. Your hands still stay off of yourself.
“Mm maybe time for a change in career then.” He leans back further into the pillows and rolls a nipple with his free hand, arching slightly into the touch.
“K!”
Thinking with his dick again. “Kento. When it’s just us, you can call me Kento.”
You whimper pathetically, clawing at the sheet. “Kento, please.”
His name on your lips breaks the last of his reserve. He grabs at the lube in his nightstand. “Put the toy in, angel. You still stretched out from earlier?”
“Finally,” you mumble before speaking clearer, “Yeah, ‘m fine.”
Nanami wonders in the back of his head whether you’d answer the same regardless if you weren’t already prepped. The quick, eager motions of you slicking up the toy has him thinking he’d be right.
He drips out some lube into his palm, warming it between his hands before gliding them down his length. A grunt fights it way out of his throat at the wetness.
Your eyes drift shut as you sink down onto the vibrator, taking it all the way to the base. “So good.”
Nanami wipes one hand on his discarded shirt before he turns the toy on to a medium setting. You cry out, obviously forgetting about that feature.
“How’s that, hmm?” he asks, not really needing an answer since your hips start to bounce.
He keeps time with your movements, the lewd sounds mingling enough he could believe it’s him you’re riding. When you grind down, he squeezes his cock to mimic what that damn toy must be experiencing.
“Wish it was you,” you whine.
Nanami groans, turning up the vibrator on you for making him such a mess. “Always so needy with me, aren’t you?”
You nod frantically, pinching and pulling at your nipples while you bounce.
He’s not going to fucking last, not like this. Not with you sweetly moaning his name and focusing on his fist around his dick. He cranks the vibrator up on high, setting it to pulse since it makes you tremble.
“Kento, I wanna cum, please,” you beg.
He clicks his tongue. “Already? We’re barely a third of the way through our time.” Like he isn’t about to spill all over himself.
“Kento!” A twist of your hips has the toy hitting exactly where you need apparently as your body tenses up.
“Again,” he barks out, managing to keep a stutter out of his voice as he fucks up into his fist. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You, Kento, fuck,” you moan. “I’m yours.”
How the hell he didn’t finish right then and there is a miracle. “Touch yourself and cum for me. I wanna hear you say my name.”
He gets his wish. You cry out, repeating his name like a prayer as you slam yourself down on the vibrator. Your body arches tight before you’re sobbing, grinding on the toy and letting your hand drag out your orgasm.
“K-kento, oh…”
It’s all he needs to let go, moaning loudly with his head thrown back. The force of his release has him shaking, eyes scrunched as he stutters out some form of praise for you. It’s overwhelming, burning hot and leaving him hollowed out as he paints his stomach and chest.
“Holy shit,” he breathes out.
Your giggle forces his eyes open. Curled on your side with the toy cast away, you seem to delight in the mess he’s made of himself.
“You’re telling me,” you drawl. “I think I might’ve seen God there for a second.”
Nanami grabs his shirt to wipe down with, but not before tossing you a wink. “Just me.”
“Gorgeous, I’ll pray at your altar anytime.”
Your attitude’s come back in the wake of your orgasm, showing him that flirty side he adores. This should be awkward. You should flit back to your main room while he passes out or eats the takeout growing cold in his kitchen.
You always surprise him.
“So how was your day?” you ask.
Nanami blinks. “Excluding the last hour or so? Miserable. Overall? Pretty amazing.”
“Glad to know I’m a mood booster.” Your smile is bright and genuine, just short of a full blown grin.
“You said that today was rough?”
Neither of you make an attempt to cover yourselves as you talk through the remaining time. You stay curled up, facing the screen, eyes open despite how tired you seem.
“You should get some rest, gorgeous,” says Nanami when you lose the fight with another yawn.
“Don’t wanna,” you grumble.
He glances at the timer on the screen. “We’re about to be kicked into the main chat.”
This upsets you, bringing a pout to your slightly squished face.
“Ah ah, no arguing,” he chastises before you can start up. He smiles at your sleepy pout. “Sweet dreams, beautiful.”
“Goodnight, Kento,” you mumble back, bringing yourself up enough to blow a lazy kiss. “Can we do this again next week?”
He’ll kick himself later for agreeing, but he can’t ignore how radiant your smile is.
Next week turns into three consecutive Fridays spent in exclusive shows. Every week he gets you all to himself for an hour, sometimes more if one of you adds time to the clock. He wasn’t aware performers could do that, but apparently you can just give time for free.
Nanami pretends he doesn’t see you do it. If he doesn’t see it, he doesn’t have to acknowledge how much more real this…thing is between you two.
Three weeks of your blissed out face gasping out his name. Three weeks of tired conversations meandering down more personal paths. Three weeks of his traitorous heart taking this as something other than an exchange of money for services.
And then he nearly dies at the hands of a patchwork curse.
Nanami misses a Friday with you for the first time in months. Shoko refuses to let him out of her morgue/infirmary when he stumbles back, clutching his stomach where the curse touched him.
All sorcerers die; some die horrifically, others die quietly. Death is the only guarantee in this business.
But you don’t know that. You don’t know he gambles his life against monsters everyday. All you know is the man you’ve grown used to seeing once a week is suddenly absent.
When the fog clears and Friday drifts into Saturday, he has no way to contact you to let you know he’s okay. Your profile is set with private messages disabled. If you’re not on stream, you’re out of his reach completely.
He tries not to let it eat at him. This is business for you; he’s just another whale on the hook. But the thought of you worrying stirs up something like guilt.
Shoko discharges him with a firm order not to move too much over the weekend and bans him from alcohol and smoking. The order may have been petty revenge for bitching most of the night. When she finally went home, he took his complaints to text form.
Opening his laptop isn’t the first thing Nanami does when he comes home. He kicks off his shoes first, of course; wearing shoes in the house is a crime.
You’re online—almost unheard of for you on a Saturday morning. He doesn’t hesitate to click into your chat, only to be met with your cheery pause screen.
bluefire1801x: been like this all day man wtf is going on
111kfc111: idk it was like this last night
NotChosenOne: This is lame. I’m not hanging around for this.
Nanami watches the chat continue like this for a moment before he decides to try anyway.
K7390: I’m sorry, sweetheart. Work got busy and I had to stay overnight. Are you around?
The pause screen vanishes, but your camera remains off. He clicks the exclusive show button, leaving the main chat sending confused messages as you two pop away.
He knows he looks like shit. Sleeping in Shoko’s morgue is never a comfortable experience, nevermind the memories and nightmares it brings up for him. The camera only highlights the bags under his eyes and how chapped his lips are.
“I’m so sorry,” he repeats.
Your camera comes on and you’re wrapped in your blanket again, this time for comfort it seems. “I paused the stream while waiting, but I fell asleep.”
Guilt claws at his heart. He was right; you worried and now you’re upset at him. Nanami sighs, sitting back at his desk and running a hand through his hair. He can tell you something close to the truth.
“I got injured at work. The doctor wouldn’t let me leave until today.” He glances at his watch. “Well, about thirty-three minutes ago to be exact.”
“Are you okay?” You sit up straighter, more life in your eyes than before. “What happened?”
He holds up his hands. “I’m fine now, except for sleeping on that miserable cot,” he assures. The next part is harder. “I can’t…shit, I can’t really explain it.”
You scowl, glaring at some spot on your blanket. “Yeah no, I get it. Anonymity and all that.”
“No, sweetheart, that’s not it at all. My job—“
“I should really turn my laptop off since it’s been on all night.”
Nanami winces at the reminder. “Let me explain, please.”
“Goodnight, K.”
Hearing the initial instead of his name cuts deeper than it should. His screen closes and leaves only your offline profile in view. He stares at your profile picture, taking in your easy smile. It’s such a contrast to how he just saw you–huddled up and sad, spitting exhausted venom at him.
Once again, sorcery manages to fuck up something bright in his life.
He can’t even blame anyone but himself. Attachments have always been unwise in this business and it’s not always the sorcerer who ends up hurting. Dying is easy; the ones left behind suffer the most.
Maybe it’s better for you if he disappears now. Let him be just another disappointment instead of a future ghost.
You stay offline for two Fridays in a row. Nanami takes to checking your page once a day or so to see if you pop up, but your profile still displays the same last online date. He should stop checking, stop hoping, stop trying to drag you into his life. He rationalizes his behavior with the excuse that he’s worried about you. It’s not like you to be gone for so long and something might have happened.
You might have met someone else and stopped waiting for the scraps of himself he can offer you.
Gojo picks up on Nanami’s foul mood after a while. The other sorcerer bounces between an uncharacteristic seriousness tinged with empathetic quiet and a rambunctious mania. Drowning his sorrows in killing monsters and picking up strangers always works for him, so he encourages Nanami to give it a try.
“Nanamin!” A whine colors his voice. “It’s just one night, come on! Shoko and Mei are busy and I don’t want to go out alone. That’s boring!”
One night in a loud club filled with intoxicated strangers and grating music. It’s like Gojo doesn’t know him at all.
“In what universe would I want to go out clubbing?” drawls Nanami, not looking up from the reports he’s filling out.
“This one!”
Gojo shoves his phone under Nanami’s nose. An event flyer fills the screen, promising a night of debauchery–themed debauchery. The entry price alone makes the younger man balk. God only knows how expensive the shitty drinks are going to be if they want that much just to get in the door.
“A costume party?” asks Nanami. “Really?”
“They’re fun! Dress up, dance, look at other hot people in costumes…” Gojo waggles his eyebrows underneath his blindfold. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how to have fun.”
That prickles some part of Nanami’s competitive brain. You had said something similar to him once, teased him about not yet being 30 and living like he’s in a retirement home. Of course, you hadn’t known about the more violent aspects of his life. He wonders if your opinion would have been different had he told you.
Nanami glares up at Gojo still hovering near his desk. “Fine.”
He tells himself it’s not because he hears your laugh in the back of his mind.
Scores of princesses, fairies, and red capes crowd the nightclub. Nanami’s nearly had an eye put out at least twice by a rogue pair of wings. The dangers are part and parcel of Fairy Tale Night apparently. Letting Gojo handle their costumes was a mistake, of course, but how else was he supposed to find a costume on such short notice?
“Prince Charming. Really?” asked Nanami, brandishing the plastic crown like a weapon. With his technique, it probably could be one.
Gojo wisely took a step back and held up his own headwear. “It’s either that or the Mad Hatter, man. I thought you’d appreciate the humor!” He vanished before Nanami could throw his (admittedly nice quality) boot at him.
Still, Nanami should probably thank the menace. More than a few people are looking at him like they want to find happily ever after with him. He can’t bring himself to care–not about the mermaid sidling up to him at the bar, not about the Big Bad Wolf asking him to dance. They’re all wrong because he’s looking for traces of you in their faces. This one’s hair is too long; that one’s eyes aren’t the right color.
He lets Gojo drag him onto the dance floor after a few shots. The music is awful–nearly discordant in its volume, but he can feel the beat and remembers how to dance. Satoru wraps his arms around a nearby Cinderella, who seems not to mind the obnoxious goggles he’s wearing in place of his usual blindfold. You can get away with a lot of eccentricities when you’re 190 cm with that kind of bone structure.
The cheap tequila’s done nothing for him. He’s still as sober as he was when he walked in. Nanami glances to the bar, gauging how likely it is he could get a drink within the next hour. A crowd four people deep encircles the harassed bartenders. A pair of bunny ears turns in his direction and freezes.
He knows that face–has seen it laughing, gasping, yawning, and twisted with pleasure.
You cock your head at him, eyebrows coming together in confusion. Your teeth come out to sink into your bottom lip before you smile and shake your head. He follows the line of your finger as you point to the balcony where the smoking section is. He watches your grin widen when he nods.
Gojo’s gone when Nanami turns to tell him he’ll be right back. The Cinderella is conspicuously absent as well, so he figures he won’t see his least favorite coworker for the rest of the night.
Nanami beats you outside. He lights a cigarette with shaking hands and tries not to stare at the door. It’s mercifully empty out here, save for a few couples huddled close to the building. He leans against the railing and looks over the city far below him.
“Come here often?” teases a familiar voice on his left. You take a drag of your own smoke, winking at his shocked face.
“I didn’t know you lived in Tokyo,” he replies, stupidly, thoughtlessly, still stunned by your sudden appearance in his life.
You shrug. “I didn’t. Moved last week. My settings have anyone in the same city as me blocked from viewing my profile. Security, you know?”
Nanami nods for lack of a better response.
“Still,” you continue. “Wasn’t expecting to see you on my first night out.”
His mind screams at him not to say anything, to stay quiet and reserved, even as your gaze burns into his face.
“My coworker dragged me out to forget about you. Not that I told him anything about us–you, I mean. He just knew I wasn’t my usual self,” says Nanami anyway. The city is a safer view to train his eyes on, but he can’t tear himself away from you.
Your expression softens, mischief replaced with uncertainty. You take a drag of your cigarette and the burning tip illuminates your face briefly. Exhaling sharply away from him, you face the city. “Part of me daydreamed about running into you. I got the job offer and my first thought was, ‘god, I can’t wait to tell Kento.’ How dumb is that?” Your laugh is bitter and the sound tears at his chest.
“It’s not dumb.”
“What could we possibly look like?” you ask, anger coloring your tone something harsh. “I don’t know what you do for work, only that it’s some big secret. You don’t even know my real name, for god’s sake.” Tears gather in your eyes, the moisture reflecting the lights of the city.
Nanami doesn’t hesitate. One hand cups your jaw, tilting your face towards his. The other tosses his cigarette from the balcony and rests lightly on your hip. “In the vaguest of terms, I’m a teacher and a private contractor. The rest requires a very long conversation that you may or may not believe. It’s nothing illegal or nefarious–just confidential. I will tell you, though, if you want to know.” He risks stepping closer, dragging his thumb over your lips.
You mumble something against the pad of his finger, repeating it louder when he cocks his head. “My name. And I wanna know.”
He could kiss you now, should kiss you now based on your starry eyes and soft lips. But having you and losing you would hurt worse than never tasting you at all. Ever the masochist, Nanami can’t help but press his thumb firmer against your bottom lip, groaning when you open your mouth to tease your tongue against the tip.
“You are going to be the death of me,” he scolds without much ire. “We’re supposed to be talking.”
Your lips draw his thumb in, sucking lightly before releasing it with a pop. “My place or yours?”
Nanami got a ride with Gojo here–not his smartest move, obviously, but your apartment is within walking distance. The trip is short, quiet, and he’s grateful for your hand clinging to his the entire way. Your neighbors must be used to the party crowd, as none of them even spare the two of you in your costumes a passing glance. Nanami spends most of the walk trying not to think about the possibility of your coat hiding a little fluffy tail.
“You know, my friend tried to get me to go as the Mad Hatter,” he comments as you unlock your door.
You laugh, pushing the warped wood harshly and kicking off your shoes. “That would’ve been hilarious.”
In the warm light of your living room, Nanami takes the opportunity to appreciate your costume. Thankfully, you’d opted for a more original interpretation of the White Rabbit: neat little bowtie, tight vest, and a pocket-watch chain ending in the pocket of your small shorts. When you turn to take off your coat, all the blood rushes south for Nanami. There is a little rabbit tail attached to your indecent shorts.
He can’t tell if it’s a blessing or a curse that you seem uninterested in taking off the bunny ears.
“So, you said we need to have a long talk?” you ask, peering back over your shoulder to smile at his flushed face. Your grin turns sharp at his sudden interest in the ceiling.
Nanami tries to remember the battery of breathing techniques he learned to keep his cool when he was a salaryman. His thoughts scatter when you walk into the living room–letting your ass brush his thigh as you scoot by him in the small entryway on purpose, he’s sure. All subtlety is gone by now; he can’t stop himself from lightly swatting you just below your tail.
“Kento!” Your delighted laughter sounds like heaven, like peace, like a thick duvet on a cold morning. He wants to drown in it–bury his entire being in it and never surface again.
“Right. Conversation.” He clears his throat. Your eyes focus on him, attentive and enthralled. It’s almost a parody of teaching, but Nanami cuts that thought off before it can start. He could either ruin his mood by thinking of work or derail his brain thinking of you bent over a desk while he wields a ruler.
Damn it.
You smirk when he clears his throat again. The picture of innocence, you sit primly on the sofa and fold your hands in your lap. “So, you were saying?”
Nanami rubs at his temple as he feels a headache coming on. His technique isn’t flashy like Gojo’s. He’s attuned for combat, not displays of power. Well, not ones that would keep the walls of your home standing. This isn’t a situation he’s ever been in before; nearly everyone he knows has experience with socerery.
He’s also breaking the rules. The most important rule: Never tell non-sorcerers. Gojo would laugh himself stupid if he knew.
Yaga was the one who recruited Nanami. He remembers the man’s speech well; it was, after all, the moment his life changed completely. He decides to start there.
“Over 10,000 people go missing or die unexplained deaths in Japan every year. Most of those are the result of curses…”
You’re not kicking him out, even when he describes curses or the horrors that often spawn them. You remain engrossed in his speech and even…accepting? Nanami cautiously starts to hope you believe him.
“Why can’t I see them?” you ask during a pause in the explanation.
Nanami gestures at his hair. “Why am I blond? Why do some people have green eyes or freckles? Genetics. Some of the elders place a more…mystical origin on why certain people have cursed energy or the sight. I subscribe to a more modern way of thinking, as it’s the one that makes sense to me.”
You nod thoughtfully. “So your parents were sorcerers?”
“Ah, no,” he sighs. “I think my circumstances are more the result of a latent gene surfacing. Probably on my father’s side, as my mother was Danish. Neither them nor my sister could even see curses.”
The unsaid falls heavily on the room. He spoke in the past tense.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” you murmur, smile softening into something kinder.
Nanami nods sharply, trying to beat away the warmth your empathy spreads in his chest. “Thank you. It’s been years. Death is something sorcerers are all too familiar with.”
Haibara’s face comes to his mind unbidden. The boy would’ve adored you and teased Kento for his habit of collecting sunshiney extraverts. Nanami didn’t subscribe to an afterlife; this world was all there is and there was enough to do here without worrying about what comes later. Still, he can’t help but wonder if it was Yuu’s influence that drove the pair of you together tonight.
“That’s another thing…” Nanami hesitates. “My work is dangerous and the mortality rate is startlingly high.”
You frown, the expression absurdly cute and he has to stop himself from pressing his thumb into the crease of your eyebrows. “I thought you said you were a teacher?”
“Only incidentally. I have taken a student under my wing as a favor to a coworker. Most of my time is spent in the field.”
He watches you process this with a heavy heart. Few working sorcerers date outside of their world because of this. There is always the risk that one day they won’t come home. Shoko sees more corpses than she sees injured; sorcerers either return unharmed or they don’t come back at all.
“Fighting those things?” you ask with no small amount of horror. “Those curses? But it’s dangerous and you said some of them are super powerful!”
If there is one thing Nanami’s always had pride in, it’s his own strength and technique. While he may not be a Gojo or a Geto, he’s no slouch. If anything, he has to work harder–be better, stronger, faster to overcome the limits of his own power. His smile is just this side of arrogant when he pulls the crown off his head and tosses it to you.
“Make sure there’s nothing wrong with it,” he instructs you. “No cracks, no breaks, no damage.”
You dutifully turn it over in your hands, inspecting the shiny plastic and shaking your head. “It’s fine.”
Nanami activates his technique, pinpointing where he wants to hit the crown along the 7:3 ratio. He kneels down in front of you and lets his smile morph into a cocky smirk. “Watch.”
He slowly raises one finger and taps the plastic with the smallest amount of pressure possible. The crown snaps immediately, his cursed energy traveling in a line until the other side breaks as well. You’re left gaping with two pieces of plastic in your hand.
“How the fuck–”
Nanami could explain his technique; he could go over ratios and calculations and how it feels to slam enough energy into a building to collapse it entirely. He could even subtly mention the fact he holds the record for most consecutive Black Flash hits, a feat not even Gojo has accomplished. He could continue this little instructional demonstration or he could kiss you until you both lose your minds.
He taps your bottom lip with that same finger, chuckling when you jolt. “In a fight, I’m usually the dangerous one, sweetheart.”
Your pupils blow wide, matching your mouth when your jaw drops open. Nanami restrains himself from pushing the tip of his finger between your lips, but you take the initiative yourself–darting out the point of your tongue to taste him.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” he murmurs. “I want to do this right, regardless of how much I want to sleep with you. I know we don’t know each other, not really, but I want that more.”
“You do know me.” Your lips moving under his finger nearly breaks his composure. “Just as I know you. I don’t need to know what songs you like or how you take your coffee. I know how to make that crease in between your eyebrows go away. I know your voice gets raspy when you’re tired, and you blush whenever I compliment you. I know your smile is rare even though you never hide it from me. I know you bitch about your job but you love it and are so proud of your students.”
Nanami blinks, caught off guard under the weight of your speech. “Sweetheart–”
“And I know if you don’t kiss me right fucking now, I’m going to throw a fit,” you say, smiling despite your harsh words.
He might not be the most experienced of people but Nanami can recognize a green light when he sees one.
It’s softer than he expected. You sigh into the kiss when he finally presses his lips to yours, reaching yours hands out to cradle his face. Nanami’s never felt delicate or fragile, but your fingers lightly tracing his cheekbones is what he thinks that would feel like.
The kiss isn’t rushed or frantic or too hungry. Your lips slide against his like you have all the time in the world. And maybe you do; what reason is there to not savor the culmination of months of wanting? All those hours online dreaming of just having one taste of you and Nanami’s suddenly been given the whole banquet.
But he doesn’t want to confuse appreciation with hesitation.
Nanami pushes up to sit at his full height on his knees, bracing his hands on your thighs to pull you closer. His tongue finds yours when you gasp and the feeling sets him alight. Your hands on his face press tighter, sliding back to grip his hair as he fusses with the buttons of your vest.
When you bite down on his bottom lip, Nanami pulls back with a groan.
“Bedroom,” he manages. “I’m not fucking you for the first time on a couch.”
You’re more than amenable to the idea, jumping to your feet and tugging him by the hand towards your room. Pieces of both of your costumes leave a trail to your bed. All of Nanami’s higher functioning goes into deciding whether or not to ask you to keep the ears on.
Later. Next time. When he’s had a chance to get a plug with–
“Off,” you demand, pawing at his pants.
No more thinking, apparently. Not when you’re completely bare and dragging your palms down his chest. His eyes threaten to roll back as you pinch his nipples. Your hands on his hips are more than enough motivation to get his belt undone, shoving away his pants and boxer briefs.
Then you’re finally on him, skin to skin and so clearly turned on when he grinds against you. The feeling alone is almost enough to end this before it starts.
He pushes you gently until you fall onto the bed with a soft huff. What gets him the most is the smile on your face; it’s far from lustful, more like giddy and adoring. The image of you spread out below him with a grin sears into his brain.
Nanami has never wanted to keep something more.
The realization is startling and far too complex than he’s capable of thinking about right now. There’s far more important things to consider–like the way you arch your back when he presses his tongue against where you need him most.
He could spend the rest of his life taking you apart with his mouth. You gasp and twist as he finds new ways to pull the sweetest of sounds out of your throat.
“Kento, please. Just get on with it and stop teasing me,” you groan, your voice turning whiny when he slows the pace of his ministrations.
Your desperation is cute and he’d drag this out more if it wasn’t for the aching throb of his dick. He gives you a slight reprieve in the form of a bite on the inside of your thigh.
“Condoms, lube?” He gestures vaguely with the hand not hold your hips down.
You point at the nightstand. “Top drawer. We can throw out the condoms later if we get tested togeth–shit don’t stop.”
Nanami took the opportunity to work you with his fingers while he reached over to rifle through your drawer. Not that he wanted to interrupt you talking about going bare, but the little sob you give is worth it. He sits up between your thighs with some of his composure back.
“I’ve never gone without one,” he says conversationally, as if he isn’t warming up lube on his fingers. “I think feeling you raw might just actually break me.”
You flinch when the tip of his finger touches your entrance. “I h-haven’t either, but you–” Whatever thought you meant to finish is cut off by the slide of his finger into you.
He’s well aware of his own size, previous partners having gawked when they got him undressed. This needs to be as enjoyable for you as it’s going to be for him. Talking seems to distract you, so Nanami lets his free hand toy with your nipples as his mouth runs.
“Me?” He chuckles quietly. “Is it just me you want to feel inside of you like that?”
You quickly nod, but he’s not fully paying attention to your reactions.
“Is it just me you want to fill you up?” Another finger joins the first and he curls them up to watch you shudder. “It’ll be messy, cum leaking out of you and staining your pretty sheets. We wouldn’t want that, hmm?”
Confusion clouds your face before it’s replaced with bliss as he finds what he was looking for.
“Would you rather me clean you up with my mouth?” he continues, finding his own voice turning ragged at your little whimpers. “You already taste so good, it’d hardly be an inconvenience.”
“Please, Kento,” you moan, twisting when he adds a third finger and starts to bully that spot inside you.
Nanami tugs harshly at your nipple just to keep himself from losing it. “Or maybe you’d rather have me plug you up? Keep me in you while you go about your day. Have no one be the wiser to the fact you’re still so full.”
You’re spasming around his fingers, obviously close to finishing just from them and his words. Nanami leans down to trace your bottom lip with his tongue as your mouth hangs open.
“I think I’d prefer to leave you messy,” he murmurs against the skin of your cheek. “Let you feel me between your thighs all day–sticky and dirty just for me.”
It’s what you need to finally break, stuttering out his name and clawing at his shoulders. Seeing you cum on a screen is no comparison to seeing it in person. You’re radiant, glowing with the sweat clinging to your skin and your pretty eyes squeezed shut.
Nanami drags your release out as long as he can, whispering calming nonsense into your ear. He’s not even aware of what he’s saying, only that you’re still clenching down on his fingers.
He pulls away from you despite your whining protests to fumble with the condom and lube. If he doesn’t get inside you right this second, he’s going to cum untouched like a virgin.
That embarrassing scene is avoided by carefully pushing into the tight, hot depth of you. Nanami doesn’t bother to hold back to choked groan that forces itself out of his throat. He’s too concerned with not immediately finishing because you feel incredible.
“Shh, sweetheart, nearly halfway there,” he soothes you when your face pinches at the stretch.
You slide your fingers into his hair and tug aggressively. “Halfway? Fuck, ’s too big, Kento.”
“You’re doing so good for me, angel.” He grunts as the praise makes you clench down even tighter. “Just relax for me. That’s it, just like that. So fucking good.”
Nanami can’t shut himself up, despite the fact he’s never been much of a talker–in or out of bed. But he’s always known how much you like to hear him. You’ve turned needy just from hearing him talk about his day. It’s a weakness he’s more than willing to exploit with you.
“Oh fuck,” he groans when his hips meet the back of your thighs. “See? Perfect fit.”
He takes a second to get himself under control and to allow you to adjust. Gentle kisses to your cheeks, forehead, lips, and even the tip of your nose bring that smile back out for him. It’s hazier than it was before, but no less beautiful.
“I’m okay. You can move.” You wrap your legs around his waist to further emphasize the point.
Namani’s slow to start, pulling away just a fraction before rolling back into you. It’s more for his benefit than yours, as adding movement to the equation pushes him further out of his mind. He keeps his head buried in the crook of your neck where he can kiss your pulse point. You only tolerate the slow grinding pace for so long before you’re jerking your hips to meet his.
“Damn it, fuck me properly already,” you demand, digging your heels into his back.
He could laugh at your impatience if it wasn’t for your teeth biting his shoulder harshly. The pain intensifies the already overwhelming fire in his veins. Nanami leaves his place at your neck to tightly grip your thighs. You’re a mess under him–sweaty and panting and about two seconds from rolling you both over to have your way with him.
“As you wish,” says Nanami with a grin just shy of feral. He lets his words roll over you, watching your eyes widen with a touch of hesitation.
Then he’s pulling out until just the tip of his cock is left inside you, before slamming back in to the hilt. Your reaction is immediate and loud, versions of his name spilling from your lips as you arch your back. He keeps the force of his thrusts harsh even as he speeds up his pace. He’s not going to last like this, but he’s damn sure you’re going to break before he does.
The bed creaks its protestations, the headboard meeting the wall in sharp, staccato bangs.
You’re louder, as is Nanami for once in his life. Choked gasps and obscene moans echo around the room. He knows he’s still talking, praising how good you’re doing and how incredible you feel. What he’s actually saying is lost on him and probably you too, considering you cry out when he shifts your position.
“Just like that, please!” you sob, digging your nails into his upper arm and chest.
With one of your thighs pinned flat to the bed and the other hiked up on his shoulder, Nanami has a perfect view of how well you take him. Tears well up in your eyes before slipping down your cheeks. He drags his gaze away from where you’re clamping down on him so he can lick one of the salty trails from your face.
“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart,” he groans. “Just hold on a bit more for me. You’re doing so good.”
You wrench the hand on your hip up to your neck so he can press down on either side of your throat. Gripping his wrist, you tilt your head back as your eyes flutter shut. “H–harder.”
He’s not sure whether you want him to fuck you harder or choke you harder so he does both. It works regardless since he’s rewarded with you keening and tightening up around his cock.
He pulls your hand out of its death grip on his shoulder and slides your fingers into his mouth, dragging his tongue along them and sucking harshly. They make an audible sound when they pop out of his lips. “Touch yourself.”
It’s not like he has any free hands at the moment.
You cry out before you start twitching beneath him. “Gonna cum–baby, oh god, please let me cum. I’m so close.”
Nanami’s eyes try to roll back, but he needs to watch you fall apart on his cock. He pushes himself to move faster, harder, despite the exhaustion creeping into his muscles.
“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he gasps out when he feels your tight walls begin to spasm.
He relaxes his hold on your neck, letting the blood rush back to your neck and it’s all you need to shatter. You tense up your body so harshly that he’s worried you’ll hurt yourself, but then you’re sobbing out his name and clawing at the sheets.
Your voice combined with the way you clamp down on him sends Nanami over the edge after you. The world goes back for a minute as his release threatens to overwhelm him. His teeth find purchase in the meat of your calf on his shoulder as his hips lock up and he feels himself flood the condom.
Biting down does nothing to stifle the groans ripping out of his chest. If anything, it makes it so much more intense–you tighten around his still spilling cock, fucking yourself on it as you outright scream.
The drop is sudden, from excruciating bliss to overstimulation in seconds. Nanami hisses while you continue to pulse around him. He’s lost the ability to breathe, but he stays inside you as you work yourself through another orgasm.
“Holy shit,” you pant out, finally coming back to earth.
It catches him off-guard, making him laugh even as the movement causes him to wince. You’re smiling at him again and giggling at his outburst, pulling him down to lay on you. The weight of his bulky frame, not to mention the strain your muscles are probably going through, doesn’t seem to deter you from tugging until his head is on your chest.
Your heartbeat is rapid under his ear, but your laughter sounds even better up close. Nanami calms, pressing lazy kisses to your sweat-glazed skin. In a moment, both of you will have to get up and clean yourselves off. The condom is still on him and he hasn’t even pulled out yet. Your sheets are probably ruined for good.
But this is probably the happiest bit of peace he’s ever found. Your fingers card through his hair with the ease of someone who’s done it a million times. He basks under the attention as his pulse returns to something close to normal.
“So we’re doing this?” you ask into the comfortable silence.
Nanami sits up enough to look at your expression. There’s a serene acceptance there beneath the hazy, post-orgasm bliss. He takes strength from that, from you.
Something to come home to. Someone to make a home with. His life is all monsters and violence, but your softness entices him in a way nothing else ever has.
“Yes,” he says without looking away from you. He leans in for a gentle, chaste kiss. “If you can deal with my job and my attitude and general unpleasantness–”
You laugh against his lips. “Oh no, how will I ever survive?”
Nanami hums in mock contemplation. “I think I can make it worth your while.”
“Kento!” Your feigned shock is made more hilarious by the fact he still has yet to pull out.
The kiss turns hungry and all banter is set aside for now.
Later, after a shower that ends in more sex and the sheets are changed, Nanami holds you close to his chest and presses his lips to your forehead.
“Are you going to go back to camming?” he asks, certain you’re still awake given the fact you’re tracing patterns on the bare skin of his chest.
You shrug. “Dunno. The money was good and I liked the attention, but my new job is going to take up a bunch of time. Plus, I’d much rather be giving you a show.” The flirty tease is punctuated with a wink.
For all your bravado, Nanami can feel you tense up against him. His reaction matters here. What he has to say will impact you, possibly devastatingly. To relax you a bit, he smoothes one hand up and down your back.
“I’m not really bothered one way or the other, angel,” he assures you. As expected, you sink against him at his words. “If you want to stream, I’ll support you. If you don’t want to, I’m fine with that as well. Bit hypocritical to ask you to quit when it’s literally how we met, hmm?”
You nod before nuzzling into him. “Could still give you a show,” you say around a yawn. “Half price, just for you.”