NANAMI x Female Reader (Fluff)

You were convinced Nanami was secretly a softie.

Why?

Because every morning, without fail, there was a fresh cup of coffee waiting for you.

𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚. 𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆. 𝑫𝒂𝒚.

And when you finally confronted him?

"It's not a big deal," Nanami said, flipping through a newspaper like you weren't about to throw a tantrum.

"𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍?" You gestured dramatically. "𝑨𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒇𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏?"

Nanami sighed. "Y/N—"

"𝑵𝒐𝒑𝒆. 𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌." You held up a hand. "You wake up before me, grind the coffee beans yourself—𝑯𝑶𝑳𝒀 𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑻, 𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊, 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑮𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑨𝑵𝑺—"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "𝒀/𝑵—"

"𝑨𝒏𝒅! You even steam the milk to the exact temperature I like."

"𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆."

You scoffed. "𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆! It's—" You paused. 𝑆ℎ𝑖𝑡. 𝑊𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒?

Nanami stared at you, waiting.

You cleared your throat. "It's thoughtful."

His gaze flickered. Just for a second.

Then, he looked back at his newspaper. "It's still not a big deal."

Liar.

𝑭𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚.

Nanami looked seconds away from collapsing.

"𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊," you said carefully.

He didn't look up from his work.

"𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌."

"I don't need one."

You narrowed your eyes. Wrong answer.

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒆. 𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔.

You walked up behind him, placed your hands on his shoulders, and—

Started massaging.

Nanami froze.

"Y/N."

"𝑺𝒉𝒖𝒕 𝒖𝒑. 𝑰'𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒆."

His shoulders were stiff as hell.

You kneaded the tension away, feeling him relax just a little.

Then—he caught your wrists.

𝑭𝒖𝒄𝒌.

The contact sent a weird shock through you.

Nanami sighed. "𝒀/𝑵. 𝑰'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌."

You smirked. "𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒕?"

His grip loosened. Big mistake.

You grabbed his arm, yanked him up, and—

"𝒀/𝑵, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍—"

You were dragging him out the door.

"You're being ridiculous."

"𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒂𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒄. 𝑺𝒊𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏."

Nanami huffed. But, for once, he listened.

The two of you sat on a park bench. Sunlight filtering through the trees. A gentle breeze.

He sighed. "...It is nice."

You smiled. "𝑺𝒆𝒆? 𝑻𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖."

He turned his head, watching you.

Your breath caught.

For the first time, Nanami looked completely at ease.

Something in your chest tightened.

Then—

"𝑵𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒔𝒌. 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌."

"𝑳𝒊𝒂𝒓."

A rare smile tugged at his lips.

You nearly died.

You did not spend the past thirty minutes forcing Nanami Kento to take a break just for him to sit there like a brick wall.

"You're sulking," you accused.

Nanami adjusted his tie. "I'm not."

"You are."

"I don't sulk."

"You absolutely sulk."

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, but you caught the slight twitch at the corner of his lips.

Good. You were wearing him down.

"Fine," you declared. "If you refuse to enjoy yourself, I'll just have to force you."

His gaze flickered with mild concern. "Y/N, what are you planning?"

𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆.

Which is how you and Nanami ended up at a ridiculously fancy restaurant.

The lighting was dim, the cutlery was sharper than your humor, and everyone looked one bad investment away from screaming at their stockbrokers.

Nanami, to his credit, hardly blinked.

"I assume you did not make a reservation," he said dryly.

"𝑶𝒇 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅." You shot finger guns at him. "I just didn't make it under my name."

"...Whose name did you use?"

You grinned. "Gojo."

Nanami's expression did not change, but you saw the soul leave his body.

"𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆."

"𝑵𝒐𝒑𝒆. 𝑺𝒊𝒕."

With a resigned sigh, he took a seat, fingers pressing against his temples. "This is a bad idea."

"You say that about everything I do," you shot back, flipping through the menu that had no prices listed (which was a sign you were definitely in trouble).

"That's because everything you do is a bad idea."

You beamed at him. "𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒆𝒕, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆."

Nanami just sighed.

The wine arrived.

Nanami sipped elegantly.

You, on the other hand—

"𝒀/𝑵."

You blinked. "Yeah?"

He exhaled. "That's not how you hold a wine glass."

You glanced down at your extremely incorrect grip. "Looks fine to me."

"You're holding it like a whiskey glass."

"𝑨𝒏𝒅?"

He gave you a look. Then, he reached over and adjusted your fingers himself.

Big mistake.

The warmth of his skin, the careful touch—you nearly dropped the glass.

Nanami stilled.

You froze.

Eye contact.

𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒕.

You were so hyper-aware of his hand over yours. The heat of his palm. The way his fingers were gentle but firm.

Nanami quickly pulled away.

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆, 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒃𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒄𝒆—

"𝑾𝒐𝒘," you breathed. "𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔."

Nanami choked on his wine.

Between the ridiculous price of the food, the absurdly fancy silverware, and the tension that refused to go away, Nanami was visibly done.

You?

You were having a great time.

Until—

"Sir," the waiter said, looking at Nanami. "Your reservation under Satoru Gojo has been flagged as fraudulent."

𝑶𝒉. 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒕.

Nanami closed his eyes. Breathed deeply. "𝒀/𝑵."

"Yes?"

"Run."

You grabbed his wrist, bolted out the restaurant, and—

"𝑰'𝒎 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏."

"𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒇𝒖𝒏!"

Nanami sent you the deadliest glare known to mankind.

And yet—

Somehow—

You swore you saw the corner of his lips twitch.

"You dragged me into a restaurant under Gojo's name, and then we had to run from security."

"Yup."

"And now, we're hiding in my apartment?"

"𝑌𝑢𝑝."

Nanami sighed.

You were curled up on his couch, a mug of his carefully brewed coffee in your hands, smiling like a satisfied criminal.

"𝑌/𝑁."

You glanced at him over your mug. "Yeah?"

"This is the exact opposite of me taking a peaceful break."

"𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆. 𝑺𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆."

Nanami opened his mouth—paused.

Closed it again.

Suspicion crept in.

His gaze sharpened. "Why does it feel like I'm being watched?"

Silence.

Then—

"𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑫𝑺!"

𝑶𝒉. 𝑵𝒐.

From Nanami's kitchen, Gojo Satoru—in a damn bathrobe—waved cheerfully, sipping his own coffee.

Nanami snapped.

"𝑮𝑶𝑱𝑶, 𝑮𝑬𝑻 𝑶𝑼𝑻."

"How the hell did you get in here?" Nanami growled, jaw ticking.

Gojo stretched like he owned the place. "You left the door unlocked."

"𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕."

"You didn't." Gojo grinned. "I picked the lock."

Nanami's temple throbbed.

"You are not supposed to be here."

"But I am." Gojo took a long, obnoxious sip of coffee. "And what do I find? You two—on a secret date, running from a crime scene, and now, playing house."

You, still on the couch, gave Gojo a thumbs-up. "Nice summary."

Gojo winked. "Thanks, I—"

𝑻𝑯𝑼𝑫.

Nanami slammed his mug onto the counter, veins bulging. "𝑮𝑬𝑻. 𝑶𝑼𝑻."

Gojo smirked. "Why? Am I ruining something? Am I interrupting something?"

A moment of tense silence.

Then, Gojo's smirk widened.

"𝑶𝒉," he gasped. "𝑶𝑯. 𝑨𝒎 𝑰 𝑪𝑶𝑪𝑲𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮?"

You choked on your coffee.

Nanami's entire soul left his body.

Gojo grinned. "Oh my god, I AM, AREN'T I?"

"OUT!" Nanami snarled, grabbing a dish towel and hurling it at Gojo's face.

Gojo dodged, cackling. "𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒆!" he called before vanishing.

The door shut.

Silence.

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚.

You set down your coffee. Cleared your throat.

"So," you mused, glancing at Nanami. "What was he interrupting?"

Nanami glared. "𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈."

"Aw. Are you sure? Maybe we should—"

"𝒀/𝑵."

"Okay, okay." You raised your hands in surrender, but you were grinning.

Because Nanami's ears were red.

The apartment was quiet again.

Finally.

Nanami was sitting on the couch now, head tilted back, rubbing his temple.

He looked exhausted.

You, on the other hand, were still watching him.

"𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏?"

"Yup."

Nanami sighed. "𝑾𝒉𝒚?"

"Because," you shrugged, shifting closer, voice softer now. "You're really handsome."

Silence.

Nanami's eyes flickered to you.

You smirked. "𝑺𝒆𝒆? 𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏."

Nanami groaned, covering his face. "𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖."

"𝑵𝒐𝒑𝒆."

Then, without thinking—

You reached out.

Brushed your fingers against his jaw.

Nanami froze.

𝑶𝒉.

Close. You were so close. His skin was warm under your touch, his pulse steady but fast.

And then—

A knock at the door.

"IT'S ME AGAIN!" Gojo's voice sang. "I THINK I LEFT MY SUNGLASSES!"

Nanami exhaled sharply.

Then, leaned closer.

𝑨 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆.

"𝑰𝒈𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎," he murmured, voice lower now, gaze locked on you.

𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒕.

He was too smooth. Too close. You could smell his cologne, feel his breath, see the warmth in his usually impassive eyes.

The knock came again.

"𝑮𝑼𝒀𝑺? 𝒀𝑶𝑼'𝑹𝑬 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑫𝑶𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑨𝑵𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑵𝑨𝑺𝑻𝒀, 𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻?"

𝑶𝒉, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌'𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒌𝒆.

"𝑰'𝒎 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒎," Nanami growled, standing.

You giggled and grabbed his tie—

Pulled him back down.

𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅.

𝑶𝒉.

𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒕.

Your faces inches apart.

A heartbeat of silence.

Then—

"𝒀/𝑵…"

You smirked.

"𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒏 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓."