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#kento nanami
pseudowho · 3 days
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It was your evening routine, now. Kento was decompressing from work. You sat back and listened, rubbing your temples with your fingertips. He paced around the kitchen, clattering pans, crushing garlic, ranting.
"--introduced a new merge lane near Ginza. No advance warning of course. 'Traffic committee', are they? Bunch of clowns--"
The pan started sizzling, with mellowsoft aromas filling the house.
"--filing under category 1.1 instead of category 1.2, so I went back and did the whole thing again. Wouldn't happen if we switched over to e-copies--"
Two steaks flung with force, ejecting garlic cloves from the pan, to skitter away across the hob. Kento tutted at the garlic, picking them up and flinging them back in, too hard, to hop out of the pan again and he growled at the garlic now--
"--convenience store stopped the black pepper focaccia, people obviously have no taste, want sweet bread instead like they're fucking children--"
You were about to snap, you swore to God--
"--honestly I'd rather see a bunch of dogs in dinner jackets stand for election--"
You stood, clapping your hands once, sharply, and Kento jumped, looking at you mulishly as he flipped the steaks; "Enough! Fucking hell, Old-Man-Shouts-At-Moon, are you quite finished?"
Kento was silent for a moment, offended. As you poured the wine, simmering under his premature middle-aged grump, you heard a mollified little grumble above the sizzle of dinner.
"...any way to talk to your husband?...just having a conversation--"
"Be quiet and drink your wine before I bite you, Kento."
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zygomantic · 3 days
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Nanami comforting a sad/depressed fem reader after he comes home from work. (Had a horrible day/week and need any kind of comfort)
A/n: Honestly same. Always happy to provide comfort, thank you for your request! This is very short but it is what it is. Also, reader could be considered gender neutral.
You're not alone.
Synopsis: Your husband Nanami comes home from work and finds you crying on the couch. He helps you through it.
Content Warnings: Mentioned Depression, negative thoughts
You blankly stared at the TV, which by now had been running for multiple hours. You'd spent your hours flicking through channels and streaming services, hoping to find anything interesting to pass the time until your husband came home.
Your frustration grew the longer you searched. Why did this have to be so complicated? Fuck, it just added to the pile shit that didn't work like you wanted to. Your job was stressing you out and you knew the next months weren't going to be any more relaxed. Nanami was just as busy, mission after mission keeping him away from home. You missed him but didn't fault him for doing his job.
Since this morning you were feeling down, and though you'd struggled with depression in the past, it usually didn't creep up this fast or suddenly. You knew very well that you were still recovering and that recovery wasn't a linear process, but a small part of you felt disappointed in yourself for feeling like this again.
Or maybe you felt comfortable like this. It was so easy, so familiar. If you were really on the way back to depression, you didn't think you had any strength left to pull you out of it again and forcing Nanami to help you made you feel selfish. It wasn't his problem that your mind was broken and your thoughts shitty.
It was all too much and your nose started burning, then your eyes watered and you didn't bother stopping the tears as they escaped. A headache had begun to form in the back of your head and you just sobbed harder.
By the time a key turned in the front door lock your face was soaked with tears and your eyes were red and puffy. You must've looked horrible, because Nanami's eyes furrowed as he walked into the room and saw you. You hadn't even hear him call out your name when he entered, too absorbed in your thoughts.
Nanami didn't bother hanging up his jacket, just dropped it to the floor and immediately made his way over to you. His hand was on your back, rubbing soothing circles into it as he tried to figure out what was wrong. First, however, he needed you to breathe.
"Darling, can you hear me?" His voice must've registered somewhere in your mind because you nodded, despite having already forgotten what he asked. "Good," he said, continuing his comforting. "I need you to breathe, dear. You remember the box breathing, right?" Another nod. "Alright. Now breathe in for four," he instructed and you tried to follow, not counting the seconds but still trying. "Hold for four," you did, "and exhale for four. Now pause for four."
It became easier after the first minute and Nanami walked you through every second of it. Once you'd gotten your breathing back under control, new tears threatened to escape at the though of how much of a burden you were. Always making him take care of you like you're a child or baby, how embarrassing.
"Don't." You looked up at your husband in confusion. "I can tell when you're thinking poorly of yourself. Don't do that. Please."
Your voice was quiet as you answered. "Okay." You pulled your legs up under the blanked and curled up into a ball.
Nanami's hand was still rubbing your back. "Can you tell me what caused this? What's going on? "
"I'm sorry. Sorry." Tears streaked down your face and Nanami's warm, big hand swiped them away carefully.
"There's nothing to be sorry for. We all have our off days. I'm sorry yours had to be today." His voice was so deep, so comforting, almost like a light to cling to while the rest of the world was trying to drown you.
"Work's just been..." You trailed off, not really wanting to think about all the things you had to do and the insane amount of paperwork that had to filed until the end of the not to mention the coworker that-
"Stressful?" His voice ripped you out of your thoughts again. "I get what that's like. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I- just don't leave. Please. I don't want to go back to feeling like I did months ago. I can't- I-" Your throat closed up just speaking about theast time your depression hit you hard.
"I'm not letting you do this alone. I promise." His hand pulled you into his body for a hug and you melted into him. "I'm here for you. Always."
"Thank you." He almost didn't hear you, you were so quiet. "Thank you so much."
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northern-cryptid · 20 hours
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there was a post on twitter and i just---
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tazumii · 2 days
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 🍵🧸️ . rough day
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﹙rough day﹚🍵🧸 kento nanami — jujutsu kaisen. ⟶ current canon ; fluff. ☆ ; none WC: 566
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― "hey," you called quietly as you twisted the knob in your apartment door and closed it. taking a short glance at the doorknob as it glinted slightly in the dim ceiling light's embrace, not even the distortion of your reflection could hide your exhaustion. you sighed, dropping your coat on the floor and not even bothering to place your shoes in their normal spot next to your fiancé's. instead you kicked them off, not giving a damn about where they were scattered to.
your fiancé hadn't heard you arrive home as of yet, though his silhouette was immediately noticeable blotted against the bleeding sunset as he stood outside on the balcony, a steaming cup of what was most likely tea in his hands.
instead of using words, since that wasn't exactly your favorite idea at the given time, you stepped through the sliding glass door and wrapped your arms around his waist- giving him a soft squeeze to make him aware of your presence.
"oh, welcome back," he soon spoke to you, feeling you loosen your hold around him as he turned his body to face you. he set his cup aside on the small terrace table nearby, before locking his strong arms around your much smaller body and lifting you up. you immediately reciprocated with your legs resting around his hips, and you laid your head on his sturdy shoulder.
"rough day?" he asked softly, to which you left a simple murmur in response. that was all he needed for confirmation- he transferred you to his left arm, his hand and forearm supporting the backs of your legs as he took his cup back into his spare hand and stepped inside the apartment.
tipping the remainder of his tea into the sink and leaving the now-empty beverage holder on the counter, he carried you effortlessly as you clung to him like a koala to a branch. eventually reaching your shared bedroom and sitting down on the edge of it, he ran his hands up and down your spine in a comforting motion.
"do you want to talk about it?" he questioned, his voice low and deep- enough to envelop you in a stateless blanket of warmth. after receiving his wordless answer, a slight negative shake of your head, he exhaled through his nose and nodded in understanding.
"i get it," he hummed, carefully adjusting himself to be able to lean back and lie against the soft covers and pillows adorning your shared bed, allowing you to rest on top of him. your small limbs surrounded his hulking, muscular body, as your head remained comfortably against his collarbone.
the pair of you laid in relative, comfortable silence for a while, him occasionally reaching to run a large yet gentle hand through your hair as his fingers threaded through the strands and curls. eventually you decided to break the silence, with a quiet phrase.
"i love you," you mumbled, causing a smile to grace his usually-unmoving features. his small dimples poked his cheeks as his eyes crinkled like little crescent moons, the attributes nobody but you got to see.
"i love you too," he replied quietly, giving you a gentle squeeze with his arms that were wrapped around you, before leaning forward and placing a kiss to your forehead.
it had been a rough day, but it wasn't all bad if this was how it would end.
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copyright tazumii 2024. do not repost or plagiarize!
( by the way , you can use the AMA button if you'd ever like me to write something for you (≧◡≦) ♡ )
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nxnamikento · 2 days
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"Frankly, no one would mind if I was gone"
☹️ you are my Everything
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tsukimefuku · 2 days
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fixing broken things ❖ nanami kento
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summary: after you realize that everything you were taking care of just wound up crooked anyway, you're pissed and needs a helping hand in order to not let the anger get the better of you.
tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer and kind of gardener f!reader, gardening, light nanami x reader, implied past higuruma x reader, nanami is very kind in his own way, hurt and comfort, some angst, some fluff.
wc: 1K
notes etc.: if you feel like reading a prequel to this, here's crooked gardening. i just randomly had the idea for this one and decided to jot it down. it's barely proofread. wrote it to the sound of we're all eating each other/the thing of life (juliet ivy)
❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events
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You were pissed. There was no sugar-coating it.
Many of the sprouts on the flower bed you planted a while ago had their skewers pulled out or broken — apparently by accident, or from people stepping on them without meaning to — and that would take a huge time to fix.
You remembered the talk you had with Higuruma — you were back to calling him by his last name, at least for these past few days right after his departure — where you told him you were good at fixing crooked things.
What a joke.
If you really were, would he have left?
Mindlessly, you conjured one of your grenades, and considered for a moment exploding the entire flowerbed out of pure spite and anger. The unexplainable urge of destroying something, and repay the unending pain the world seemed hellbent in dropping over your shoulders.
Just another pointless heartache to carry around, as if you didn't have enough of those already.
You got your hand closer to the flowerbed, but before dropping the tiny grenade, you realized there was an invisible veil you simply couldn't rupture.
There was no crossing it, your body was preventing you from going beyond that imaginary line and blowing up a bunch of flowers you planted and nurtured yourself with such care, even if it were to plant new ones in their place.
There was no escaping the roots that had already taken hold.
"Good afternoon," you heard an already familiar voice say behind you. "Why are you holding one of your grenades?"
Sighing, you dissipated it, patting your hands on your pants to clean them from the dirt.
"I… I don't know, Nanami," you replied bitterly as you stood up.
He knew Higuruma left a few days ago, having talked to the sorcerer himself, and noticed you were obviously still processing his departure. Respectful as he was, Nanami avoided contacting you to offer assistance — he knew that, in case you did want it, you'd talk to him first. You were the type of person who usually needed some space and alone time to process things.
But at that moment, Nanami became slightly concerned, seeing you using your cursed technique at the HQ premises, given it had quite the destructive potential.
You turned on your heels and stomped your feet towards the nearest bench, sitting on it with a sour face. Your arms were crossed, and your anger kept building up with no relief. If only you could find it in yourself to blow up, at least this fucking once.
Lost in thought, you didn't realize that Nanami sat by your side.
He looked at his wristwatch and sighed before speaking.
"I have exactly 17 minutes before leaving for my next mission."
And then, there he stood, impassively waiting for you to speak up about what was going on.
"I wanted to blow up that flower bed."
He looked at you, and inquired, with no judgement in his voice, "why?"
"Because… Because some flowers are crooked, and I planted them, and I'm fucking supposed to be good at fixing crooked things, but fuck me, I guess I'm just… I don't know, Nanami. I don't fucking know," you blurted out, equal parts bitter and defeated. "I wanted to just destroy them and plant something else in their place."
"I see."
"Well, apparently, I'm not even good at doing that, because I couldn't do it. I just… couldn't."
"Why do you think that is?" He asked you, pushing his glasses into position.
"I have no idea," you spat, "do you have any? I could do with some enlightenment, or lecture, or whatever the hell you could throw at me right now. I'm tired of people leav…" you thought for a moment. "No, I guess that's it. I'm tired of people."
He huffed.
"People can be tiring."
"Yeah…" you were feeling a little less out of sorts, and the sadness began taking hold of the anger's place. "So, why couldn't I destroy anything?"
"You couldn't do it because you're not someone who breaks things."
You were a little puzzled, and said, "Nanami, my technique is literally casting grenades to blow things up. I'm pretty good at that — breaking and destroying things, I mean."
Nanami sighed and removed his glasses, turning his face to look at you.
"Not only that. You're also capable of applying reverse cursed technique on other people, so you carry both within you. The potential for breaking and for fixing."
You huffed, and looked at your feet as you asked, imitating his usual voice cadence, "is that so?"
"It is. But not only that. Your rage rarely pulls you down. It pushes you forward."
"What do you mean?"
You looked back at him at that moment.
"When your parents left, or when you lost people close to you, and when you were at that village. These were the many instances where you could have simply given up, but you chose to preserve your family legacy, to become a healer and to save a child. For a sorcerer that deals with negativity and death on a daily basis, you choose to bring out the best from the worst instead."
You were silent, taking in what Nanami was saying, and he proceeded.
"As it stands to reason, you wouldn’t use your pain or anger to destroy anything. You’d use it as fuel."
"For what?"
"Keep fixing broken things."
You huffed, an almost chuckle.
"Thanks for the compliments, I guess."
"Those weren't compliments, I simply stated facts," he answered, putting his glasses back on.
You acquiesced. 
"Yeah, forgot you did that."
You got up on your feet and stood there for a moment, before turning towards him and saying, "thank you, Nanami."
He bowed his head, and got up himself.
"See you around?"
"See you around," he replied, sparing you a discreet smile before walking away.
You stepped towards the flower bed and looked at it, fully aware that just bursting everything away and starting from scratch would be easier. However, you sat on the ground and started pulling the broken skewers off, determined to put new ones in place, realizing this would take a lot of effort and time.
Grunting, you began mumbling to yourself, displeased and somewhat happily defeated for the first time in days.
Fucking Nanami, always fucking right about fucking things.
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lostfracturess · 1 day
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yes sir !!! 🫡
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baptizedinbloodd · 1 day
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okay, so this might be the thirstiest edit I've ever made but I can't get them out of my head
!!(TW for flashing lights)!!
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satorusugurugurl · 2 days
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Soo Best Friend!Suguru is in the works! It will be posted in Saturdays once Escort!Gojo is done!
But now I'm thinking. . .Nanami series next or Sukuna? 👀
Nanami maybe OBGYN provider and Pregnant!R either widowed or BF ran out on her. Or PR manager Nanami and Streamer!Reader.
Sukuna Modern AU: we see the closet scene, watch the two grow close, see big brother Sukuna in action. (Tattoo Artist!Sukuna/Nurse!Reader)
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Nanami Thoughts Part 6
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Image by diabkahe on Pinterest I got inspired by this silly image ^_^ (writing below)
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One of Nanami's best-kept secrets is that he enjoys dancing when no one is around. It's a guilty pleasure he indulges in after a long day of paperwork, usually after hours in the privacy of his office at Jujutsu High.
Once everyone else has gone home, he pops in his earphones, blasts some catchy tunes and dances to his heart's content. The type of music ranges from Missy Elliot's Lose Control to Low by Flo Rida. He's not a bad dancer, just shy.
One day, he forgets to lock his door and in wander Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi as he's performing some impressive steps while singing "Unholy" by Sam Smith, hips swinging smoothly as he coordinates his steps.
"A lucky, lucky girl She got married to a boy like you She'd kick you out if she ever, ever knew-"
He turns around, and to his mortification, sees his students with various expressions on their faces. Yuji looks positively delighted, Nobara is biting down on her fist to control her laughter, and Megumi's mouth is open in a perfect 'O' of shock.
Nanami freezes and for a second has no idea how to react. He's embarassed and feels himself blushing, but with an impressive effort, he clears his throat, removes the earphones and looks at them with an impassive expression.
"Nanamin, I didn't know you could dance!"
"That wasn't dancing I was practicing evasive maneuvers."
"Riiight. Of course." Nobara snickers.
Nanami swiftly strikes.
"Any word of this and I'll stick you guys on fly head exorcisms for the rest of the year."
@estarlias @buttercupbitches @daswanj @byul9158
@that-goth-bisexual
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in the mood for some head, it’s been a stressful monday.
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pseudowho · 2 days
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Kingsman!AU: Galahad/Nanami Kento
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You become the latest Kingsman...and the man who sponsored you is so much more than the gentleman he presents himself as.
Warnings: Best if you've seen the Kingsman films! 18+, MDNI, soft!Dom Nanami, SecretAgent!AU
A little series of smutty drabbles...also planned, Higuruma, perhaps others, for now.
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It was, without a shadow of a doubt, the strangest job interview you had ever had.
Handcuffed, in an East London Police interview room, after assaulting five (...six? Seven?) police officers at an anti-government protest, you were scruffy but unharmed. The blood on your hands was not your own. There was a high flush on your cheeks, ripped clothes casting an indifferent, messy disdain to the situation you found yourself in.
There was a knock at the door, three brisk taps. You did not answer-- a pause. Three further raps at the door.
"...come in?" You asked. The door opened a crack. No further advancement.
"...may I?" A voice, velvet smooth and low, asking your permission.
"I...dont see why it would be my choice," you offered, stretching your hands against the cold metal of your handcuffs.
The door opened slowly, filled by a broad, tall man, blond and outstandingly handsome, with neither a hair nor thread out of place in his Savile Row suit. Over his arm rested a neatly folded overcoat, and a glossy-handled men's umbrella. His hat never graced his head indoors, and was, as such, clasped in his hand. He raised one fine eyebrow at you, his expression unreadable.
"It would be ill-mannered of me to consider it anyone's choice other than yours," he offered coolly, sitting opposite you, "considering you are the only occupant of the room." A moment of silence, again, as you regarded each other.
"Are you...my lawyer?" The man's nostrils flared slightly in suppressed mirth.
"Good heavens, no. No, I have come with a job opportunity." You blinked, certain you had heard wrong, while he continued, "I saw your performance, on my way to work, and I must say I was rather impressed. Seven officers, in under a minute. All incapacitated. Outstanding. And you're untrained, too. And, you did so well at University-- first class honours, correct?"
"Who the hell are you?" You spat, bristling under the man's casual knowledge of your life. The station's assistant looked awkwardly between the two of you as he dropped off two chipped police-issue teacups and saucers of anemic-looking tea. The blond man took the cup and saucer so gracefully, considering the enormity of his hands.
"Ah...quite right. I haven't introduced myself. Nanami Kento-- it's a pleasure to meet you."
You faltered again under his icy regard. Nanami took a sip of his tea. He paused, looking down at it with a hint of despair, before placing it down and delicately clearing his throat.
"...delicious," he lied.
"Are you...MI5?" A brief smile from Nanami, in response. He reached for something in his pocket.
"No," he responded, clipped, "we are not. But, we are in service to King and Country, and we are the sort of agency who punch up, instead of down. And...we find ourselves one member short."
Nanami slipped a thick, embossed coin over the desk to you; a circle, with a sideways "K". Nanami stood up, abruptly, inclining his head to you.
"All charges against you have been dropped. Your interview will commence, at..." Nanami looked at his watch, "...five o'clock this afternoon, should you wish to accept. If you press that coin for five seconds, my associate should send you the details."
You sat, stunned into silence, with the coin in your hands. Nanami Kento looked to you with twinkling eyes, at the door. You felt the twist of fate in your belly, and the pull as Nanami Kento walked it away with him.
"Good day to you. The pleasure was all mine."
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It had taken you over an hour to walk from Whitechapel to the Savile Row address. As bedraggled as you were, you passed through the bustling gentry and street performers of Covent Garden, skirting past the Savoy...before reaching the hushed, golden backlit glow of an exquisite Tailors shop. Letters were embossed upon the windowpane, glimmering gold on a backdrop of finery.
Kingsman.
A tinkling bell; an incongruous stranger, entering an unfamiliar domain. A familiar stranger, strong and smiling, upon the couch. Your breath hitched before you spoke.
"...you're here." Nanami folded his newspaper, standing up, before welcoming you to a changing room, that was not a changing room.
"You're late," he whispered against your ear, as the ground under London sank beneath your feet.
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"...that's mad." You stood in front of a glass window, somewhere far beneath Surrey, gazing in wonderment upon an aircraft hangar full of billions of pounds worth of mercenary equipment. Nanami chuckled beside you. You missed the almost fond sideways glance he passed you.
"I thought the same," he hummed, "when I was brought here, for the first time. I thought someone was playing some tremendous joke, for all the world but me." You were silent, dry-mouthed and swallowing.
"Tell me something..." you insisted, your palm pressed flat against the glass.
"...anything," Nanami reassured, soft and sincere.
"If I pass this-- this test," you whispered, turning to him, "will I get to work with you?"
Nanami smiled, leaning upon the handle of his umbrella, one leg crossed upon the tip of his toes behind the other.
"I'm counting on it."
Another man, tall and lithe, with inky black hair and a hooked nose, arrived with a clipboard. He offered you both a lopsided smile-- "Galahad-- good to see you, my friend"-- white sleeves rolled up against a tailored waistcoat--
-- a rich, Scottish brogue--
"...are you ready to begin?"
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Not only had you passed these months and months of bizarre, deadly tests...you had excelled.
Nanami had remained, always, at arms' length...a distant advisor. An odd, gentle promise. He could not offer any tangible advice, and you could see him itching to, at points.
It was down to the final two; you, and some Cambridge yuppy who could trace his family lineage back to the Battle of Hastings.
You stepped through the dormitories, late at night before the final test, your German Shepherd bounding ahead to sit diligently at the foot of your bed.
You felt a strong arm loop around your waist, and a hand over your mouth. A familiar cologne that made your stomach clench. You stood, pressed against his clipped, firm body, tucked into a camera's blindspot.
"Listen to me," he hissed in your ear, "Do you trust me?"
You nodded, not hesitating for a moment. Nanami's belly flipped to feel your hot little breaths around his hand.
"Good...shoot the fucking dog." You squeaked, trying to turn to him. He pinned you flush against the wall. His chest rumbled against your back.
"Trust me. Shoot the dog."
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You shot first, without a moment of hesitation. Your opponent returned to Cambridge. You became a Kingsman. Both dogs survived the trial.
The hamper that Galahad, your new partner, sent to your home, was nothing short of the finest luxury.
"To my Very Best Bet", read the lovingly annotated card. You brushed it against your lips, wishing it was his fingers instead.
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The wallet was a supple brown leather, smooth and warm. You knew it belonged to Galahad, from the faint smoky cologne that lingered upon its skin. Merlin gave you Galahad's address. You missed the knowing smile Merlin also gave you.
Your stomach flipped in your belly, all the way through Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. You passed beneath trees hundreds of years older than the establishment for which you now worked, treading upon the footsteps of Kings and Queens.
The first fresh flakes of snow kissed upon your lips, by the time you turned to the towering white grandeur of Kensington, very much not where you were from. You were freezing, your little hands clenched in your pockets, but hot with anticipation.
Reaching a fine, tall townhouse, all Georgian architectural triumph, you pushed through the black metal gate, rising up white stone steps. You hesitated only briefly before tapping the door, heavy, and gilded forest green.
"--just a minute-- please excuse me--...oh. Hello."
Galahad stood at the door, as...relaxed as you had ever seen him. His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned to his chest, and his waistcoat hung similarly open, with tie tails trailing down his chest. With his sleeves rolled up, and a pinstriped apron tied round his waist, you swore you almost saw him blush.
"...to what do I owe the pleasure?" He breathed out, finally. The apples of your cheeks, pink with the cold, dimpled under your smile. You reached out to Galahad, his wallet clasped in your hand.
"You forgot something," you offered. His hand reached out immediately, a goodness, thank you, you shouldn't have upon his lips, before your cold little fingers grasped under his own.
"You are miles from home," he rumbled, chastising, "and you are freezing cold." You tipped on your heels on the doorstep, placating him with a finger to your lips, and a glint in your eye. You moved to go down the steps, but your fingers remained clasped in his.
"Where are my manners? You should come in...of course."
"Galahad, don't feel oblig--"
"Kento, please," he ushered you inside, a hand ghosting over the small of your back, "if we're going to share dinner, we should not pretend to be strangers."
Kento's house bore all the opulent gloss of its noble history, with fine black and white checkered tile flooring, and twisting dark oak bannisters carrying the high staircase away from you. A receiving room beside you, bigger than your whole home, bloomed beneath the sultry flicker of a fire, the only source of light in the room. The kitchen lights spilled inwards, a herby bourginon aroma drawing you in.
You slipped your coat off your shoulders, and blushed, as Kento stood behind you to receive it. His heart pounded under the effort of containing his thrill to have you in his home. The thought of being alone with him, like this, had occupied your mind at night, for so many months.
"Sit, please," Kento insisted, heading to his drinks cabinet. Two slim, hazel eyes darted to you in question; "...can I tempt you?"
You settled on the sofa, antique, and likely much older than you; "Ah...wine?" Kento smiled, heading over to you with a bottle in his grasp, and two slim-necked glasses between his fingers.
You shared the bottle-- dinner was forgotten, cooking slowly on the back burner. You felt yourself becoming supple, warmed by the fire, the wine and the company. Within just a few hours, you and Kento laughed together, both liquor-dishevelled, hands brushing forearms on the back of the sofa. His calloused fingertips were electric against the inside of your wrist.
"You really were, you know," Kento hummed, placing down his unfinished glass of wine, "my best bet. The best gamble I...I ever made." You didn't know how you had ended up drawn so closely to him. Your legs tangled in his, head radiating from his thighs into yours. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling you gently, insistently, closer to him.
"I don't normally do this," Kento bargained with himself, whispering against you, his tongue swiping out to dampen your plush lips, "it isn't very-- I really shouldn't, I-- dinner first, at least--" You couldn't help but drown under him, silent in the pools of his dilated pupils as he pressed you to lay back on the sofa, climbing over you, and trapping you beneath him.
"...can I tell you a secret?" Kento murmured against your neck, melting you under his lips and tongue. His hand moved down to undo the buttons of your silk blouse. You nodded, feeling him shiver as you did the same to his shirt.
"...I left my wallet behind on purpose," he rumbled, predatory. The tension snapped. His lips crashed to yours, with Kento groaning into your mouth, tongue trembling against yours. Ripping at the buttons of your blouse, his gentlemanly self-restraint was all but abandoned.
Stripping you, freeing your breasts with bitten-back growls and murmurs, Kento rolled you onto the Persian rug in front of the fire, crowding over you and taking one breast between his lips, licking your nipple into his mouth as his enormous hand pawed at the other.
"--beautiful...beautiful, you know that? Always thought...if you hadn't made it in...I'd have brought you home anyway..."
"Ken--Kento, I--" You broke off into breathy, high moans as Kento's hand slipped down, clutching at your pussy beneath your skirt. His hand scraped the lace edges of your stockings, his breaths frantic and panting with hurry.
"Say my name...again," he panted, strong fingers cupping your sex, moving to massage you, desperate need radiating through his hand. Kento pressed hard enough to massage your clit through the lips of your pussy, you mewled, squirming under him as he growled, "Again. Say my name."
"Kento," you squeaked. Your voice seemed to make Kento frantic, and he pulled off your skirt, your stockings, your underwear, until you were suddenly, blissfully bare beneath him. He knelt, still fully clothed in front of the firelight. His barrelled chest rose and fell, a high blush across his sharp cheekbones.
"This isn't...how a gentleman behaves," you gasped, one arm draped over your eyes. You heard Kento chuckle, cracking his knuckles above your prone, trembling curves. You heard the wolfish grin in his voice.
"Oh yes it fucking is."
One of his hands draped between your breasts, running down your chest and belly, to graze fingertips over your mound. His eyes flicked up to yours again, dark, hungry and questioning. You floated, somewhere both above and beneath him.
"Anything...anything you want," you keened, "whatever you want." Something tightened in Kento's jaw. His fingers trailed lower, grazing your plush lips again, dipping beneath to stroke up and down the slick length between your entrance and clit.
"...what a dangerous thing to say, to a man like me...I don't get treats like you often." Kento pressed two fingers slowly into your clenching heat, eyes rolling back with a fractured moan, gripping you to him by the hip. His cock strained against his trousers, and he moved lazily to unzip himself, shaking with self-restraint. He could not bear the way you twisted and squirmed, to feel his thick fingers fucking into you.
"...good girl...how does it feel? As good as your own? Did you touch yourself, like this, when you dreamt about me?" You could only nod in response, moaning and reaching down to clutch his wrist. His fingers curled upwards towards your soft sensitive spot, buried into you up to his knuckles, and swirling his fingertips over the spongy patch. You sobbed into his touch and he folded over you, shushing, pressing kisses to your temples.
"It's alright, darling...I felt it too...I'll show you. How I touched myself...thinking about you." Kento shuddered against your neck, his fingers still working magic into your belly. His cock flopped heavy into his hand, thick, long, and Kento felt so touch-starved as he closed his eyes, raising his thumb to stroke around your clit, imagining it was his weeping cockhead.
He shushed you again, chasing you up the rug as your pleasure built, heat surging through your thighs and belly. Kento couldn't help but fuck into his own fist, lubricated by his pre-cum, overheating with the need to sink himself inside you, and paint you white with his seed. He cracked his neck from side to side. Doubling down, his fingers picked up speed, pressing your clit until you writhed, your nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt.
"That's it...that's it...let it happen," Kento whispered into your neck, still fucking into his fist against your belly as you climaxed, hands tangled in his mussed hair, burning under the weight of him. His fingers fucked you through the haze of pleasure, nose stroking into your hair, whispering his praises against your ears; "...so proud of you...such a good job...so proud of you, my little gamble..."
Your thighs threatened to flop to the sides, soft and lazy after your orgasm. Kento nestled himself between them, cockhead stroking between your folds, and you whimpered to feel your sensitive clit nudged. Folded over you, Kento met your eyes. A slightly guilty smile ghosted over his face, his voice shaking, seemingly coming back to himself. He resolved to restrain himself;
"I, uh...usually have better manners. This was unprofessional of me. Ungentlemanly, even. I...I insist we...leave this here, and do this properly. Now, we sh-- haaaaah, fuck-- shit-- you--"
Interrupting Kento, you had waited for his cockhead to stroke down to your entrance before fucking him inside you, rolling your hips up to trap his cock inside your walls. You wailed around the stretch, Kento's cock huge and pulsing inside you, and Kento lost his mind.
Grasping your hips with vicious strength, he cursed, rutting into you with abandon. You felt his fat, blunt cockhead jabbing against your cervix immediately, and Kento leaned into it, tilting your hips to fuck you deeper, overtaken by a primal need.
"...little minx...I offer you--ahhhh fuck-- dinner, and you...you offer me...your cunt...just like you, shit--"
You giggled, breathless against Kento's feral attentions, and the sound shot straight down Kento's spine. Your laughs caught in your throat when he held his hips flush to yours, barely pulling out, bullying into your pussy with no restraint.
You felt the steam of sweat beneath Kento's shirt, felt how badly he needed this, and revelled in the way he fell apart above you, his cock milked by your wet, velvet heat. Kento leaned back just enough to see where his cock disappeared into you.
The sight had him reeling, and he came with a bark, spitting and swearing against his total lack of self-control. You felt his cock twitch and bound inside you, spattering your walls with thick stripes of cum. Kento crumpled onto his elbows, face twisted in euphoric agony to see you bite your lip at him, rolling your hips to milk him of every last drop of cum.
Gasping for just a few moments, before rolling his shoulders with soft cracks again, Kento pulled out of you, flipping you over so your face pressed down into the rug. You squealed to feel your hands drawn behind your back, and the soft shhhhff shhhfff shhhhhffff of his tie being pulled free of his collar.
Face down, and arse up, Kento dipped his fingers into your cum-dripping, twitching hole.
"That's how a boy does it," Kento growled, beginning to thread his tie around your wrists, "now lets show you how a Kingsman does it."
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Getting to wax lyrically about my beloved London was a treat.
Up next: Higuruma Hiromi/Merlin
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Shoko: sees Gojo and Geto sitting sad on a bench Shoko: What's going on? Gojo: Sit, we'll tell you Shoko: sits Geto: The bench is freshly painted
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Nanami x Reader
A Gift of the Magi inspired AU
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Nanami and you met in college and fell in love fast. With his quick dry wit and your intellect, you got along and were a perfect match for each other.
Nanami proposed with his mother's ring. A simple gold band, tiny scratches all over standing testament to what was a long covenant.
You got married in a second hand dress, the lace of which you carefully repaired yourself. The hemline reached your ankles, and the bodice, pulled together with alteration after alteration sat snug on your body.
He wore his better suit, a cream carefully maintained over the years and his shoes polished till you could see your face in it.
The wedding party was small, family, and your closest friends. And when everything wrapped up and everyone said their goodbyes, Nanami knelt before you, taking your hand in his, and promised you that he would become a man worthy of being called your husband.
You knelt to meet his eye and whispered "You already are, my heart..."
But the recession hit and layoffs found you without a job. You desperately scoured the internet for work and looked through your contacts for any opportunity.
Meanwhile Nanami's company also downsized. Reducing both in a workforce and remuneration.
With paycuts and a lack of employment he worked twice as hard to provide. Making sure his pretty little wife would never have to do more than that which is necessary.
You took up a job in a convenience store, managing and selling people what they'd need.
And at night when you came home you'd come home to him, haggerd and sagging shoulders but your eyes lit up seeing the other.
Seeing you walking towards the apartment you made a life in, Nanami physically felt his shoulders lift. His spirit soar. There you were, an angel among the mundane. Your hair shone in the street lights. Your eyes twinkled like lanterns.
You felt a spring bloom in your step and ran into his outstretched arms as he enveloped you in the biggest hug.
"How was your day, my flower?"
"A little tedious but better now, my heart"
You walked up to your flat, in each other's arms. He nuzzled his nose against your head and kissed your hair. Dinner was an intimate affair. Rice, fish, miso soup with a generous sprinkle of kisses and hugs. Nanami felt you wrap your arms around his waist as he stirred the soup and fried the fish – your lips against his back, and turned around to softly press his lips against yours. Your hands reached up to his hair ruffling the corporate alignment away. His hands found home on the curves of your ass as he lifted you closer to him, deepening the kiss.
Nanami drank you in. So many years after, but he still felt the butterflies he had when he first asked to kiss you.
When dinner was finished, and the plates cleared away, you both wasted no time in crawling into bed. The city lights illuminated the room, barely kept at bay by the thin curtains. And you found yourself being loved by your husband.
Fingers intertwined, he pushed into you, swallowing your soft moans and cries. His lips were hot against yours, tongues exploring. Your bodies moved in tandem, he knew yours so well. Your twitches, your shudders, every jerk leading to your climax. And when you did, he helped you ride it out on his cock, gently bringing you down from your high and finishing himself off outside you.
Nanami and you didn't have much, but you had each other, and at the end of the day that's really all that you needed...
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A big thank you to @uchihasanctuary for hearing me out. When I had these thots in the first place.
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alternatimsnowfall · 2 days
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its a canon event yall
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kdjojo · 2 days
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It's quite horrifying that JJK characters have the worst fate ever. Thought you were going to stay with morals? NOPE YOU BECOME A CULT LEADER! Being the strongest isn't that bad! HAHA, JOKES ON YOU. YOU HATE YOUR LIFE! Thought that none of your friends weren't going to die? Well, your friend gets possessed by a 1000+ year old dude, your friend's eye gets blown and they're dead, and your mentor/teacher's body gets blown/cut in half.
Gege, you aren't seeing those pearly white gates and I reassure you that.
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