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daisynik7 · 22 days

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I could even learn how to love like you

There’s a certain type of peace you find in the mundanity of the typical morning commute. The soothing whirring of the railway, the chill of metal against your fingers wrapped around the handholds, even the odd comfort of being surrounded by strangers who are equally as half asleep as you are, willing to shuffle the slightest bit to make room for new passengers. Sure, it’s a nuisance for the most part, but it’s your tiny pocket of harmony before the usually stressful workday. A routine you’ve grown accustomed to, something you can rely on to stay the same in this ever-changing society.

Change is never a bad thing, though. And sometimes, it takes a stranger on the train to show you that.

He immediately captures your attention the first time you see him. Tan business suit, straight posture, hair neatly parted, stoic expression etched on his face. The typical salary man heading to his office job in the city. While his stature is most-impressive, it’s his tie that piques your interest, a spotted pattern akin to leopard print. A splash of pizzazz on an otherwise ordinary outfit.

He maneuvers his way to you, wrapping his fist around the same pole you’re holding, his grip a safe distance above yours. He glances at you through his spectacles, giving you a short nod to acknowledge you. You return this with a small smile, and when you notice he doesn’t have any headphones in, you say, “I like your tie.” You normally wouldn’t speak to anyone here, most people too immersed in their preferred choice of media, like music or the news. Something tells you that straying from your usual habits might be good for you today.

The second of silence where he’s processing what you said scares you; maybe you’ve become a bother for him in this already troublesome commute. Then, he clears his throat, his gaze flickering at you for the briefest moment before it focuses on the floor. “Thank you.”

The conversation ends there. In fact, that’s your entire interaction throughout the remainder of the journey. Your station arrives before his and you leave without another word. It’s neither awkward nor extraordinary. Still, the moment doesn’t stop replaying in your memory the rest of the day. You wonder if you’ll get a chance to see him on the way home, knowing the chances are slim. Schedules vary, there are many different sections of the train. The stars would have to align just right for you to be reunited with this stranger. Despite the improbability of it all, you allow yourself to be hopeful. The little taste of excitement this morning has you craving more.

~~~

Two days pass until Nanami meets you again. Maybe he does it subconsciously, maybe it’s intentional, but he finds himself gravitating towards you. When he places his hand above yours on the pole, in similar fashion to the last time, he gives his usual nod, unsure if you recognize him.

You beam at him. “Good morning!”

He doesn’t say anything else; he’d only be pestering you with trivial conversation. Though he can’t help watching from his peripheral as you scroll through pictures of delicious food on your phone. He notices you screenshot the ones that include recipes in the description, causing him to grin to himself at how he does the same. The urge to comment is in the back of his throat, the tip of his tongue. Getting it out proves to be difficult, and he knows why. Nanami made a vow to himself ever since he returned to being a Jujutsu Sorcerer: don’t fall in love. He’s completely aware of how dangerous his job is, how his life is at risk every single mission he’s sent on. It’s what he signed up for, the life he’s currently committed to. There’s no room for attachment, for love. It's easier for him to avoid it altogether, even if it means swallowing down a simple hello on the train. It’s better this way. And quite frankly, he isn’t sure if he’s even capable of loving the way others do. His heart has become so callous throughout the years that there’s no chance at it ever softening, he’s sure of it. Perhaps the flutter in his chest at the smile you flash him is a coincidence, nothing more.

This theory is soon debunked.

Nanami is especially tired after today’s mission. Heading home, he manages to secure a row of empty seats and plops himself down, resting his head back, sighing. He closes his eyes, listening to the usual hustle and bustle of rush hour, resisting every temptation to fall asleep. Missing his stop would put a damper on his already foul mood.

Eventually, the automated voice announces your stop. For whatever reason, he made it a point to remember it when you hopped off this morning, just two away from his. When he feels someone sit beside him, he peeks with one eye open, curious.

“Hi.” You smile softly at him, eyes crinkling with genuine kindness. “It’s you.”

While Nanami is guarded and closed off from people outside his intimate circle, he’s never rude. He has no other choice but to respond to you, ignoring the obvious thump in his chest at your endearing greeting. “Hello.” He tries his best to convince himself that this unfamiliar flutter surrounding him is some sort of medical condition that needs proper diagnosis and not affection towards a beautiful stranger on the train. Stiffening in his seat, he pretends not to be intrigued by the food magazine you start flipping through, secretly studying the way you fold the corners of all the recipes you want to save for later.

Halfway into the ride, he actually does fall asleep, only rousing awake when he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder. Blinking the bleariness from his eyes, he catches you staring at him guiltily. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I think your stop is coming next and I didn’t want you to miss it.”

He sits up straight, readjusting his tie, clearing his throat before he replies, “Thank you.” Sure enough, the automated voice from the speaker announces that they’ll be approaching his stop next. Slightly disoriented from his nap, he stands up, grasping the nearest handhold tight. His mind is racing, body itching to say something more, say anything more. Before he can, the train comes to a halt. The doors open and without another glance, he’s gone.

Nanami spends the entire fifteen minutes of his walk home attempting to quell the stir of emotions inside him, from guilt to giddiness, all over the simple fact that you’ve memorized his stop. That you’re paying attention to him just as he is with you.

~~~

This time, he’s the first to greet you, offering a polite nod before he grabs onto the same pole that you’re occupying. “Good morning.”

You’ve been boarding this particular section ever since you started seeing him, hoping he’d do the same. “Hello, stranger,” you respond with a grin, unable to contain your happiness.

He holds his other hand out to you. “Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

You state your name in similar fashion, shaking his hand. His skin is rough against yours, though his grip is gentle. You let go of him, dropping your arm to your side, fingers tingling. “I guess we’re not strangers anymore.”

“I guess not,” he says with a small smile. And it’s enough to send you into a tizzy.

Conversation is easy with him. He mentions the magazine you were reading the other day, expressing his mutual interest in food. From there, the two of you talk about your favorite restaurants and eateries around the area, giving your best recommendations. Because of all the ambient noise, you lean in close to one another to hear each other properly. The gap between your hands on the pole is shorter by the time your stop approaches. You’re prepared to bid him a reluctant farewell, so it surprises you when he follows you off. “Is this your stop too?” you ask him, though you already know it isn’t.

He shakes his head, fixing his tie idly. “My office is fifteen minutes from here. I want to get a quick walk in before I start work.”

“Are you sure this isn’t an excuse to spend more time with me?” you tease him, smirking.

He gazes into your eyes. “Maybe it’s that too.”

This is the start of a new and exciting routine for you, one that involves Nanami. You’ll spend the morning together, talking to each other in the middle of the crowded train. Then, he’ll walk you to your office building, where he leaves you with a cordial bow. You’re reunited during rush hour, sitting next to each other sharing either the newspaper he brings along with him or the new issue of a magazine you’re subscribed to. You’ll even rip out recipes for him to keep, which he tucks safely in his pocket. When he’s too tired from the workday, he’ll close his eyes, his head falling just shy of your shoulder. It all seems silly and insignificant, but to you, it’s special.

Your relationship never goes beyond this. The two of you don’t talk about work, you never ask questions about the new injuries on his hands or the minor scrapes on his face. The idea of being anything other than acquaintances who commute together terrifies you, and you have a strong sense that it terrifies him as well. While it would be nice to be in love, you’re not confident if you can give that to him.

It's only after Nanami stops coming when you realize that maybe you can love him.

On Thursday, the morning after Halloween, the commute takes longer than usual due to a mysterious incident in Shibuya that the media hasn’t disclosed fully. You listen carefully to the gossip surrounding the train. According to the elder folks, it has something to do about “the hooligans” partying too hard on Halloween. The younger generation of passengers chalk it up to some conspiracy about magical entities attacking civilians to lure other magical entities. You’re not sure what to believe, and whatever is the truth doesn’t matter once you realize Nanami hasn’t boarded at his usual stop. The delays don’t help your anxiety as you spend the remainder of the ride wondering where he could be, why he hasn’t shown up, if he’s okay.

You follow the same routine as best as you can, frequenting the same section as you usually do, holding onto the same pole, which is lonely now without his presence. On the way home, you place your bag in the seat beside you, saving it for him if there’s ever the slim chance he does show up. You continue to tear recipes from the magazines you would normally read with him, placing them inside a small envelope marked with his name, ready to present to him if you ever do see him again. To show him that you never stop thinking about him even in his absence.

Nothing is ever revealed about what really happened in Shibuya. The general consensus is that whatever danger emerged on that Halloween night is no longer a threat and that the citizens of Tokyo are once again safe. And based on the timing of Nanami’s sudden disappearance, you believe that he’s part of the reason for that. It’s the only solace you find in this otherwise heartbreaking situation. Still, you hold out hope. For what? You’re not sure until two months later when Nanami returns to your life.

~~~

It takes one month for Nanami to be discharged from the hospital. He was admitted two days following Halloween, after Ieiri performed all she could with her abilities to aid him with his injuries. But he’s alive, they all are. The Jujutsu sorcerers succeeded at defeating Kenjaku and all his minions, thwarting whatever horrible fate they had in store for Tokyo, potentially the entire world. They won.

However, their triumph came with a cost. The Shibuya Incident left him permanently scarred on the left side and one eye lost forever. Rehabilitation has been grueling the past few weeks, struggling to come to terms with this battered body. He’s received unyielding support from his colleagues who he shares this trauma with. Despite this, there’s something missing, someone missing in his life. He thinks about you much more than he ought to, wondering if you’ve noticed his absence, if it’s affected you at all. Ever the pessimist, Nanami has convinced himself that you have forgotten about him, even after all the tiny, special moments you’ve shared together. It’s better this way, he knows that. After all, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what love is or how to love somebody.

Still, he’d like to see you again, just to know that you’re doing alright.

Another month passes before he musters the courage to be out in public again. Because of the winter season, he can hide as much of himself without rousing any suspicion. A large coat, mittens on his hands, a scarf around his neck, a mask to cover the burn scars. He dons his usual spectacles, hoping to conceal the eyepatch draped across his hollow socket. Ever since the incident, he’s felt like a monster, unable to reveal himself to strangers oblivious to the true events of that night.

He finally boards the train, stepping foot in the usual section as he would going home, searching for a familiar face. There you are, as beautiful as ever, sitting in the same seat, your bag occupying the one beside you. You look up, your eyes meeting his, holding onto his gaze a split second longer than expected before you focus back on the magazine laid out on your lap.

It takes everything in him to deny the swell in his chest, the tiniest sliver of hope fluttering in his belly at the thought of you recognizing him. Before he loses his composure, he takes his place on the empty row across from you, enough distance to observe you inconspicuously. That’s all he intends to do, nothing more.

As much as his world has been shaken, he’s comforted by you flipping through your magazine as usual, your life continuing normally as it should. However, he can’t help feeling a deep sadness, knowing he’s not a part of it anymore.

Once again, you prove his assumptions wrong.

His eye widens, intrigued by you grinning at a particular page, carefully tearing it from the binding, something you used to do this for him not too long ago. He watches with bated breath as you retrieve from your bag a marked envelope already teeming with what he assumes are other recipes from previous issues. You add the new one with a delighted expression, making sure to close the flap for a temporary seal. And clear as day on the front of the envelope, even with his obscured vision, is his name written on the front.

He sits up straight at this, his full attention on this seemingly insignificant discovery. This captures your attention, the inkling you had earlier validated. It’s him. The stature, the posture, those distinct steampunk glasses. You didn’t want to be wrong, so you didn’t say anything, trying to stifle your quickening heartbeat. But you’ve been waiting two months for this reunion, yearned for it more than anything. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you stand up, traversing towards him until you’re an arms-length away, gripping a pole tightly to steady yourself. “Nanami?”

Panic sinks in as he decides to reveal himself to you, anticipating the shock and terror in your face when you see what he looks like now. He removes the mask slowly, avoiding eye contact. “Yes, it’s me.”

Your reaction surprises him. With that same warm smile he’s missed so much, you sit down beside him, unfazed by the scars. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Love is standing close on a crowded train to keep each other company. Love is getting off at the wrong stop to spend more time together. Love is magazine clippings in an envelope with his name on it. Love is seeing all the broken pieces of him and still finding him completely beautiful.

Nanami is certain now that he could learn how to love like you.

Author's Note: This is the final installment of the past lives vignettes series. It’s a bit cheesy, but I really wanted to explore the aspect of “missed connections” and I thought strangers on the train would be perfect to do that. Title inspired by the song “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are never expected, always appreciated. Thanks for reading. Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

#icymi #srb

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daisynik7 · 22 days

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ok ok everyone posting today gave me motivation to finish this doodle

#so cute!

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daisynik7 · 22 days

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Sanemi is usually cold, even borderline rude to the Kakushi, who usually just deal with it by ignoring it. Not you, though. You've heard the stories about his intimidating demeanor, listened to your fellow coworkers let out exasperated groans at being assigned to him for even the simplest tasks, all because they really don't want to be around him.

So when you're finally assigned to him, in charge of fixing a tear on his uniform, you already have your guard up, your hackles raised. You know you're supposed to be good, but if a whiff of bad behavior on his end arises, you can't promise to behave.

He's at his usual training grounds, mangled bamboo pieces littered all over the dirt. You approach him cautiously, his back turned toward you. Without warning, he strips his top off, tossing it aggressively behind him. It lands directly on your face, the fabric hot, heavily laced with his scent, which is surprisingly sweet. He doesn't greet you, nor does he even turn around to face you. "Fix it," is all he mutters, raising his sword to strike the remaining bamboo in front of him.

Feeling safe since his back is towards you, you roll your eyes at him. Then, on your way out, you grumble under your breath, "No please?"

The following week, you're assigned to him again, this time to clean up his mess at the training grounds. He's been at it for hours, the sun beating down on him, his exposed chest glistening with sweat. If he wasn't such an asshole, maybe you'd find him attractive. Hell, even with his shitty personality, it's hard to deny.

When you arrive, he faces you, his eyes narrowing into a glare. "Clean it up," he orders through gritted teeth. He stares at you for a second longer than needed, then turns around to walk away. You bend down to start picking up the pieces, mumbling, "You're welcome."

He stops in his tracks, as if something has captured his attention. You hold your breath, waiting for his next move. But he continues in his path until he's completely gone.

The third assignment is an odd one. You're called to his home late at night, asked to bring some healing supplies with you. Apparently, Sanemi injured himself while he was sharpening his blades in his room, an unusual occurrence for Hashira. Nevertheless, you show up, following him into his room, waiting for his instructions.

He sits at the edge of the bed, displaying his hand to you, a fresh cut across his palm. No words this time, just a grunt, his gaze avoiding yours.

You can't resist; you roll your eyes at him, sighing. And he catches you.

It happens quickly. A huge gust of wind, the ointment and gauze from your grasp drops to the floor, and you're pushed against his dresser, his body pressed to yours. The mask falls from your face, revealing your terrified expression, eyes shut, lips trembling. His breath is hot on your skin, incredibly close you can hear his heart beating rapidly.

It's silent for what feels like an eternity. You swallow hard, mustering the courage to open your eyes. His usual crazed expression is now one of yearning, pleading. Something between you captures your attention, and you soon realize that he's aroused. Really aroused.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low and trembling, like he's trying to restrain himself. "Please."

#hmmm wanna make this into a full fic 🤔#in my Sanemi era!!#icymi #srb

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daisynik7 · 22 days

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"Sons of sand"

An artwork of mine that blew up on tik tok

❗️Please don't repost without credit❗️

#mind blowing art #incredible #the similarities between all three of them!#I see the dune influence in aot #so cool

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daisynik7 · 22 days

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[papamin au 🐅] graduation 📚

#papamin au #yuji itadori #nanami kento #jjk fanart #I’m crying

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daisynik7 · 22 days

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thank you for the tag my sweet izzy! doing a different lineup this time 😈

✨open tags! ✨

"MY MAN"

four characters who make you yell "MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN" !! I'll go first !

thought this was a silly idea keep it going! tagging ; @rrairey @httpshujii @cindol @shokosprincess @seneon @cheriiyaya @accidentcache @suntoru and anyone else wanting to participate !

#I'm still keeping nanami there of course haha #tag games #lovely moots

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daisynik7 · 22 days

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thinking about 2d men who give ur clit a little kiss before making out with your pussy

#sanemi sanemi sanemi #he's very heavy on my mind #oh and this is also totally ino #dreamy sigh 😌

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daisynik7 · 22 days

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AW NIKKIIIII my angel, ngl i been slacking on reading stuff ik you feed the nanami n choso girls well lemme tap in 🙈🙈

Nara my love, I've been slacking too, don't worry! I have so many amazing fics on my to read list (I just saw that you wrote a sanemi fic and I've been on his nuts since I saw the movie so I can't wait to eat it up). idk I feel like my attention span has gotten so bad, but I'm trying to go back to how I used to be! 😭

hope you're having a good week and that you have a great weekend! 💗

#my lovely nara #lovely moots

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daisynik7 · 22 days

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— ★ BLOODSHED // SHINAZUGAWA SANEMI

content & warnings: fem!reader, canon-verse, canon typical violence (blood, vomit, death, reader has suicidal thoughts due to survivor’s guilt), conflict (sanemi insults reader a bit but hey) smut (unprotected sex, missionary) mdni

author’s note: saw the demon slayer movie n had thoughts 🫠

word count: 1.6k

Too late.

That was the only words that echoed in Sanemi's mind.

He told you to stay behind the bushes whilst he investigated the scene. Your nose wrinkled at the acrid stench of flesh.

Sanemi was not a childhood friend. He was a familiar face to you when you were both children but he was nowhere near a friend.

The tragedy that struck his family in your village was whispered among the residents. But never fully discussed under Sanemi's blood-curdling glare.

He eventually left to join the Demon Slayer Corps. His younger brother followed in his footsteps.

Fast forward to the present, you were caught amidst the pattern of young women disappearing. Sanemi and Iguro had swooped in to rescue you.

The Wind Hashira and Serpent Hashira bickered amongst themselves as you were thrown across Sanemi's shoulder against your will before they parted ways.

In Sanemi's book, he would've dropped you home with no further explanation. His duty was done.

But as he made his way into the heart of the village, boots slick with blood, and the coppery tang of it mingling with the earthy scent of churned soil wafted to his nose, he realized it wasn't going to be as simple as he wanted it to be.

Corpses were strewn across the ground like discarded puppets, their lifeless forms contorted in unnatural poses. Weapons littered on the ground. It was beyond unnerving.

His eyebrows furrowed. He told you to stay put, and he turned to see you crawling across the ground.

"Are they all dead?" You mustered out. The air was heavy with an eerie silence.

"...Yeah." Sanemi responded voice devoid of emotion, not able to meet your eye.

Your hands covered your mouth as you felt bile scratch your throat. Scrambling away, you felt your chest heave and you threw up with all your might.

The image of children crying and screaming as they cowered with their parents as the demons slaughtered them was too much.

A once bustling marketplace was now reduced to a graveyard, the stalls overturned and splattered with crimson. Laughter and conversation replaced with screams of terror.

That was the last thing you remembered before you felt faint and were submerged in darkness.

Your eyes blearily wrenched open. The atmosphere was different. From the destruction and hollowness of your home, there was warm light that shed through the paper screens and a fragrant aroma mixed with the scent of herbs.

Struggling to sit up, you felt a wrinkled hand press you back down onto the futon. You turned your head to face the kind face.

"Where am I?"

She didn't respond. Rather, she stood up, bowed and exited the room. Leaving you bewildered.

Your clothes had been changed and your feet were no longer scraped and bloody like they were when Sanemi rescued you from the demon's clutches.

Pushing off the covers, you could feel a presence. Your eyes focused on the shoji screen door, and sure enough, Sanemi was sitting cross-legged on the engawa.

He didn't bother to look at you.

"You haven't changed." You said.

He's still brash. Rude. But to you, maybe not to others it's just a defence mechanism. To push people away.

He didn't respond.

"Do you regret...saving me?" You finally questioned.

Sanemi felt his heart race. He was crushed with the guilt of all those villagers dying.

"No." He said bluntly.

"I wish you didn't." You spat and headed back indoors leaving him completely dumbstruck.

Sanemi felt rage boil within him. The vein in his temple throbbed as he saw red.

Within an instant, he shot up to yank the door open as he glared at you, breathing heavily.

"You UNGRATEFUL WENCH!" He bellowed.

You sat up from the futon, eyes widening.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!" You screeched, livid at his audacity.

"You heard me, loud and clear!" He spat. "After what I did for you?!"

"WHY THE HELL WOULD I WANT TO LIVE IF IT WAS AT THE COST OF AN ENTIRE VILLAGE...?!" You shrieked, a lump forming in your throat.

The words stung him. All the guilt of the massacred village comes crashing down on him.

"YOU STILL LIVE." He seethed. "YOU TAKE THAT CHANCE I GAVE YOU, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

"What the HELL is left for me?! YOU SAW IT! IT WAS A GRAVEYARD!" You sobbed, tears spilling down your cheeks.

He turned away. His face was beet red, balling up his fists as he shook with a silent rage.

"But you are ALIVE, aren't you?!"

"What use is there being alive...?" You said defeatedly, not wanting to scream anymore as your body began to wrack with sobs. "Just do me a favor, and end my life."

"Don't ask me to do stupid crap like that, you hear me?" Sanemi hissed as he glared at you. "My blade is for those demonic bastards. Not airhead humans."

"I have no reason to live."

"I said, don't talk like that." He said sternly as he grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look up at him.

He practically was lying on you whilst you were sitting on the futon.

The two of you had emotions brewing. Unexplainable. And as terrifying as Sanemi could be, there was a magnetic pull between the two of you.

And it appeared he shared the same sentiment, as he instantly captured your lips for a hungry kiss.

First, your body froze. But when you registered this was something you wanted, with the way heat pooled deep in your gut, you returned the kiss.

Sanemi planted his large and calloused hand onto the back of your neck. He groaned into the kiss as your tongue ventured inside the recess of his mouth, caressing his own.

Hands grasping and shedding clothes off. Ripping, forcing and tugging at the fabric that seemed to be confining the both of you.

Your palms grazed and slid against the taut, firm muscle that was etched with countless scars. His fingers digging and kneading your soft and supple skin, the outlines of your curves and dips.

Pulling away from the heated kiss, gasping for air to latch onto the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

Closer, closer, he needs to feel you. Your limbs intertwine, Sanemi's digits gripping into the plump flesh of your rear to haul you onto his lap.

Your eyes flutter shut, it's almost heavenly the way his sharp canines sink into your throat, how he alternates between gliding his tongue and grazing the jagged edges.

He wants to devour you whole. And you'd let him over and over again. You want him, you'd let him tear you apart.

The way he growls gutturally as his achingly hard cock merely brushes against your soaked slit.

He pushed you back and began to palm at your breasts, kneading them as he met your lips again, lapping into your mouth.

"Fucking beautiful, y'know that?" He grunts between the sloppy kisses.

"You're okay.." You tease with a smile as your hands skim across his sides.

"I'm better than okay." He chuckles. You wince as he gripped and squeezed your flesh, marking you up.

He finally pulled away, his hands pinning your wrists down. His tongue dragged over his lower lip as his cock throbbed, the way you were spread out for him.

The steady forming red marks littered across your skin, the bite marks, your skin sheen with sweat, the goosebumps all across your arms and the way your lips had swollen.

"Tell me what you want." He rasped out, a predatory glint in his eye. He never thought sex could elicit the same high he got from massacring demons.

"I want you inside me..." You responded meekly.

“Anything for you.”

Sanemi let out a stutter as he slowly pushed himself inside, entering you was true bliss. The way your velvet walls accommodated him.

You mewled at how he stretched you out, your back instantly arching. He met your lips furiously, eyebrows furrowing.

"Want this whole place to hear you scream my name." He mumbled, sweat trickling down his forehead.

Sanemi nuzzled his face into your neck, inhaling your scent deeply as he began to thrust. You were a babbling mess as he buried himself in you to the hilt.

You whined as his nails dug into your hips.

"...Nemi." You mustered out pathetically, the saliva from your kissing dribbling down your chin.

"Need to...cum inside of you, make you mine." He grunted as he pounded into you relentlessly, grunting and snarling as he felt your slick walls clench around his cock.

The room was filled with the heady scent of sex and sweat as he drove you toward the brink of ecstasy.

"S'close, Sanemi..." You breathed out, his thumb dragging against your plump lower lip with a cocky smile.

"Let's cum together, okay...?" He whispered near your ear, uncharacteristically gentle.

You nodded and soon enough, your bodies were in sync, a cacophony of breaths coming in short gasps, moans of pleasure and skin slapping.

Sanemi felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge, feeling you grasp around him.

He kept his focus firmly on you, reaching to circle your clit, adding stimulation to push you over the edge.

Your walls pulsated wildly as he slammed into you, his seed spilling deep inside of you in hot spurts.

He instantly collapsed on top of you, panting heavily. It took a moment for him to finally peel himself off of you.

Your eyes raked over his face, your hand cradled the side of his face and he leaned into your touch.

Sanemi barely smiles. If he smiles, it's the thrill-seeking, adrenaline one he gets at the prospect of slashing demons down.

But as your thumb stroked his cheek, you were the only one to see Sanemi Shinazugawa beam at you with tenderness and warmth.

author’s note: if u reached this far tysm!! reblogs n interactions always appreciated hehe yeah btw i got a headache so sorry for any spelling or grammatical mistakes lawl

#to read later!#I also had THOUGHTS after seeing the movie lol #I love your writing nara so I'm very excited to read this #demon slayer smut #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny smut #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi shinazugawa smut #sanemi smut

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daisynik7 · 22 days

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Feeling safe since his back is towards you, you roll your eyes at him. Then, on your way out, you grumble under your breath, "No please?"

He stops in his tracks, as if something has captured his attention. You hold your breath, waiting for his next move. But he continues in his path until he's completely gone.

He sits at the edge of the bed, displaying his hand to you, a fresh cut across his palm. No words this time, just a grunt, his gaze avoiding yours.

You can't resist; you roll your eyes at him, sighing. And he catches you.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low and trembling, like he's trying to restrain himself. "Please."

#I wrote this with my [redacted] okay #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi shinazugawa smut #sanemi shinazugawa x you #shinazugawa sanemi #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader

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daisynik7 · 22 days

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I could even learn how to love like you

Change is never a bad thing, though. And sometimes, it takes a stranger on the train to show you that.

~~~

You beam at him. “Good morning!”

This theory is soon debunked.

“Hi.” You smile softly at him, eyes crinkling with genuine kindness. “It’s you.”

~~~

This time, he’s the first to greet you, offering a polite nod before he grabs onto the same pole that you’re occupying. “Good morning.”

You’ve been boarding this particular section ever since you started seeing him, hoping he’d do the same. “Hello, stranger,” you respond with a grin, unable to contain your happiness.

He holds his other hand out to you. “Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

“I guess not,” he says with a small smile. And it’s enough to send you into a tizzy.

He shakes his head, fixing his tie idly. “My office is fifteen minutes from here. I want to get a quick walk in before I start work.”

“Are you sure this isn’t an excuse to spend more time with me?” you tease him, smirking.

He gazes into your eyes. “Maybe it’s that too.”

It's only after Nanami stops coming when you realize that maybe you can love him.

~~~

Still, he’d like to see you again, just to know that you’re doing alright.

Once again, you prove his assumptions wrong.

Your reaction surprises him. With that same warm smile he’s missed so much, you sit down beside him, unfazed by the scars. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Nanami is certain now that he could learn how to love like you.

#icymi #srb #happy ending sorry for scaring everyone!

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daisynik7 · 22 days

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Nanabun

#thank you for the tag remi! 💗#NOT THE BREAD CRUMBS 🥹

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daisynik7 · 22 days

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A Reliable Man

Sometimes the hero you want, isn't always the hero you need.

A Kiyotaka Ijichi appreciation smutfic.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, loss of virginity

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"Ijichi...can you come and collect me, please?"

"Of course. Just send your location over."

----------------

"Ijichi, it's so late. Are you okay to collect me?"

"Don't worry, I've been waiting. Have you eaten?"

"Oh...I haven't. It's alright, I can sort myself out--"

"I'll pick something up. It's no trouble."

----------------

"--ah, shit-- Ijichi, call the school-- I need backup, urgently."

"Hold on. Get somewhere safe. I'll call everyone-- anyone. Get to safety. Please."

----------------

"Ijichi, I--...I can't thank you enough. I wouldn't have made it out of there if you hadn't called for help. I...I really am sorry."

A pause. A soft sigh.

"...please, don't be sorry. You're out there saving lives. You don't have to be sorry about anything."

----------------

Ijichi--

...your finger hovered over your phone screen. You saw the time; 10pm. You felt a familiar squirm of shame, disgusted by yourself for demanding so much of Kiyotaka Ijichi.

He was off the clock...you were in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere along the way, you had forgotten how hard he worked; while directing all of the assistants should have been a full time job in itself, Ijichi stepped above and beyond, by sacrificing his time, his effort, his safety, shift after shift after shift.

You tapped your phone against your forehead, eyes closed as you sighed. You decided to walk home. It would take you hours, but it was still better than--

Your phone vibrated in your hand. You looked at the screen.

Kiyotaka Ijichi.

You answered immediately, flustered, the words catching in your throat. Ijichi got there first. His voice, calm, soft, worried.

"I just...thought I'd check in. There aren't any drivers on tonight, but you're out on a mission. Are you home yet?" Tears pricked in your eyes, and you gulped.

"Ijichi.. you're not even at work. What are you doing? Calling me? You need a break." You chastised him. He laughed weakly, apologising in a flurry as you told him off.

"--it's my job to make sure you get hom--"

"--no it's not, Ijichi." Silence on the line. Ijichi waited for you, as he had a hundred times before, "It's not your job to get me home. Not every time. You...why are you...you need a break."

Another soft sigh; another warm pause.

"And I'll have a break," he continued, quietly determined, "when you're home safe. Send me your location. I'm on my way."

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He had opened the door for you. Gently laughed off your reproach. The seats were already warm. A hot drink, in a thermos. A snack bar in the glovebox.

Ijichi looked tired; by this point, you weren't sure if that was just his face, but you felt a strange flutter of sweet relief, joy, to be smiled at by him, as if you were worth the late hour and lack of sleep.

Ijichi cast his eyes over you, relaxing, "You're...not hurt. That's good. I'm--...I'm happy to pick you up," he offered, awkwardly, "but I've had enough of scraping you up and dragging you to Shoko."

You felt such prickling uncertainty bubble in you. Why were you suddenly shy in his presence? Why did his eyes casting over you feel so like a caress? Why did you not want the journey to end?

"Dinner," you blurted out, and Ijichi raised his eyebrows, eyes fixed on the road, "we should get dinner. If you've not eaten. I've not eaten. But if you don't want to eat then that's fine too I know it's late--"

"No no no, please don't-- yes, please, dinner sounds...lovely."

You took a moment to look down at yourself; muddy, dirty, bedraggled.

"Uhm...at yours, maybe? We'll order takeout?" You were too busy examining the state of yourself to see the blush that fizzed across Ijichi's sharp cheeks.

"I-- uhm--...sure. Yes. That would be...agreeable."

"So formal, Ijichi."

"Shush. I'm a professional."

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"So..." you finished your mouthful, trying not to feel embarrassed about being dressed in one of Ijichi's old t-shirts and sweatpants, "...he really said that? To quit, and get a driving licence?"

Ijichi laughed, his smile parting the clouds and making him look fifteen years younger. You couldn't help but laugh with him, your hand coming to cover your mouth, giggling together on his sofa like teenagers.

Ijichi wiped his eyes, sighing; "Gojo's a force of nature, it's true...but I probably owe him my life. I...feel like I can do more good in my current role, than I could have ever done on the front lines."

Setting down your plate, and wrapping your arms around your knees, you watched Ijichi, fascinated to see him slowly unwind, his loosening coils releasing the stresses of the day. You had never seen him like this...so relaxed. So happy.

You felt another odd squirm, this time a possessive, protective determination that he should never participate in Jujutsu Sorcery. That he should always be safe. You reached out for his hand, stroking his long, smooth fingers in yours.

Ijichi froze, so uncertain about how to react, having never had anyone show interest in him, barely even his parents, let alone a beautiful woman like you--

"You are the lifeblood of the sorcerers, Ijichi," you smiled, "and we'd fall apart without you. I'd fall apart--"

You were close now, almost sat on his lap. Your face was so close to his, that he felt your breath fan against his neck. He couldn't keep pretending he only checked in on you because it was his job. He couldn't keep pretending it barely bothered him when he saw you walk into danger. He couldn't keep pretending he didn't think about you all day and all night--

Ijichi pressed a kiss to your lips so fast, it felt like butterfly's wings. You gaped, wide-eyed, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

"I--I'm so sorry, that was-- that was highly inappropriate of me and I--...mmmfff..."

You had pulled Ijichi in by his collar, continuing the kiss he had started, with such heartfelt sincerity that Ijichi could have cried. You felt the wounds of so many horrible, selfish, unreliable boyfriends past. Ijichi felt the wounds of so many crushes, hopes and rejections past. Neither of you had noticed the treasure beneath your feet for the longest time-- unforgivably long.

Ijichi's hands clenched uncertainly as you kissed him, unsure where they should sit. He happily took your lead, tentatively responding to every press, every fluid movement of your supple lips against his. Only when your tongue swiped across his mouth, did Ijichi groan and respond instinctively, one hand coming up to push his glasses on top of his head, the other snaking to the back of your neck as he tugged you onto his lap.

You had never kissed someone who you knew would fight to the ends of the earth for you, and for whom you would reciprocate without question. A man who appreciated you as you were and wholeheartedly, and about whom you felt the same. A trustworthy man. A sincere man. A reliable man.

You pulled away for a moment, still holding his collar as you straddled his lap, panting against his lips; "Where have you been all my life?"

"In the front seat...just hoping to catch your eye in the mirror."

Crashing your lips against his again, sighing into his mouth, Ijichi's body strained with the heat of your thighs trapping him in. He was desperate to pull his shirt off, to feel your skin on his...except you needed him to act like he knew exactly what he was doing and--

"--wait...wait," Ijichi panted, resting his head against your shoulder, his hair ruffled, a pained grimace on his face. You cupped his cheeks, feeling him, hard and aching beneath you as he squirmed with an uneasy admission.

"I've...I've never-- I haven't--..." Ijichi winced, moving to lean back, mortified and humiliated. You saw his shame start to bubble over, and quickly slammed a lid on the pot. You did not let go of his collar, and did not let him lean back. Instead, you whispered against his lips, enough to make a whimper leave his lips and a drop of pre-cum leave his cock.

"Let's fix that then, shall we?"

Standing, full of divine purpose, you pulled Ijichi to his feet, nuzzling up into his ear until he shivered, his hands ghosting over your hips again.

"My room-- please--" he pressed, smiling into your neck as you laughed, being pushed gently backwards towards his bedroom. Stumbling together into his bedroom, giggling, stealing kisses, and necking like teenagers, you felt yourself thrown back into some sweet young love that you always wanted to have, but never received.

You fell back onto his bed with a bounce and Ijichi stood nervously before you, wanting to follow his instinct to crawl on top of you and bracket you under his arms, but crippled by his lack of confidence. You raised your foot, slipping your toes under his t-shirt and tickling his belly. Ijichi smiled, buckling and grabbing your foot, crawling over you with lovesick eyes. You made it all so easy.

"Ijichi..." you hummed, nosing at his neck, "...whatever your gut tells you to do, is probably right. I trust you. So please, show me what you want."

Ijichi felt shivers down his spine at your open invitation. His fingertips grazed down your plush inner arm, the little squidge of fat between your breast and armpit, the smooth untouched plane beneath your breast. Your eyes fluttered closed, delighted by his reverent touch. His hand gripped your shirt, and you almost felt tears prick in your eyes as he gently shielded your face to pull it off over your head.

Your bra had shifted with wandering hands, and your nipple peeked half-in-half-out, pressed by the edge of the cup. Ijichi ducked his mouth towards it, and you saw him hesitate again. You reached back, undoing your bra and removing it. Your eyes flicked down to his mouth, and back up to his eyes, dark and drunk.

"I'd like that," you whispered, and Ijichi breathed a shuddering gasp of relief before taking your nipple into his mouth, tasting you with open-mouthed sucks and laps. You heard his wet little grumbles of appreciation against your skin, when his hand came up to gently finger the softly yielding squidge of your other breast, Ijichi's fingers playing with your nipple with delighted exploration.

Ijichi was so overstimulated already, so touch-starved, and his cock so rigid, that he felt worryingly close to finishing-- so unable to control his own excitement at exploring someone's body so intimately for the first time. That the body belonged to you, the woman he had been falling in love with for years, was the final nail in the coffin, of him threatening to spill in his boxers.

You felt this in him, already prepared for him to want to curl up and die from embarrassment, if he didn't last. You were thrilled by his worship of you, having been treated as expendable more than once before. Teaching him would be a privilege and an honour. All the while, you failed to see how he taught you the bare basics of being respected and revered by a lover.

Ijichi was finely-tuned to subtle shifts in the atmosphere around him, and he learned quickly what you liked as he took your breasts into his hands and mouth. He felt the flickering of your hips up towards his when he licked you a certain way, and the hairs on his neck stood up to hear the breathy moans from your lips when he countered, pressing his twitching cock down against your clothed pussy.

Feeling a warning trickle of pre-cum, Ijichi pulled away from your breasts with a hiss, wrapped up in need and barely ashamed to hear himself beg you; "--please, I-- gosh, I'm sorry so sorry-- not going-- not going to make it--"

You kissed him again, soft and reassuring, as you finished unbuttoning his shirt. Ijichi moaned, long and shaking, as you draped his tie around your neck, the tails trailing over your wet-nippled breasts.

"God, you're lovely," he blurted out, blushing as you laughed, your head thrown back in genuine joy.

"Not nearly as lovely as you, beautiful man," you purred, ecstatic to see Ijichi's blush deepen when he moved to hide his face, his nose nuzzling in unbridled affection against your neck. Pushing his shirt off his slim shoulders, you raised your feet to hook around his trousers, looking at him with a playful glint.

Ijichi raised his eyebrows in question, and cried out to feel you push his trousers and boxers down, shivering as his cock bobbed out, red-tipped and wet with pre-cum. Ijichi quaked to feel the cool air hit his length, a drip of pre-cum dropping onto your belly.

You felt Ijichi tensed, brittle above you, and knew he risked spilling in your hand if you touched him. Still, you trailed your hand down his belly, nails grazing in the barely-there black hair, before slowly encircling his cock, hot and heavy in your hand.

Ijichi saw stars, his own hand the only one his skin had even known, and groaned into your neck, instinctively bucking into your grip; --ooohhh, f--...gosh," he whined against you, coughing in alarm as you giggled again, your fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around his length. Your other hand pushed down Ijichi's borrowed sweatpants and your panties.

"...are you ready?" You asked Ijichi, smiling at his enthusiastic nod. You rolled the head of his cock between your folds, wet and warm, and Ijichi's arms almost buckled with the bliss and promise.

You guided Ijichi into you, squeaking as he bucked into you, bottoming out in one thrust. Ijichi snapped, cursing in a way that was so alien to the Ijichi you had always known. He gasped, one hand reaching down to sink into the side of your him, relishing the way you jolted beneath him as he filled you with ragged thrusts.

Never had a man been so captivated by you. The feeling of Ijichi's inexperienced desperate rutting, was so vastly outweighed by the enthusiasm with which he treated your body. By the time you rolled your hips in time to meet his thrusts, pushing his cock deeply enough that you felt the first hot stirs of pleasure in your belly, Ijichi was crumbling around you.

"--please please please...please please please-- oohhhh fuck-- ooohhh fuck a condom, shi--"

Ijichi came with a strangled cry, so lost in his base instinct to cum inside you, that he couldn't help but let his seed spill into you, in ragged, disjointed bucks. You drank in the bliss on Ijichi's face...slowly seeing it morph into horror, and you were quick to reassure him, peppering kisses on his lips and cheeks.

"You're okay, it's okay...I'm on protection, shhh it's okay, I loved it, I loved it--"

"God I forgot all about you--"

---you didn't, you did so well, and besides, we've got all night--"

"All ni...? Oh...oh. All night," Ijichi smiled, absolutely burning with adoration, as you burned for him. Your eyes flickered up to his head, and you pressed a hand over your mouth, eyes sparkling.

"...your glasses are still on your head, Ijichi."

"Ah! Oh...gosh."

#I was JUST thinking about him!!#to read later #I love it already #he deserves more love!!

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