#kento nanami angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojonanami · 6 months

Text

FIVE TIMES NANAMI WANTED TO PROPOSE BUT DIDN'T - NANAMI KENTO

✴︎ summary: nanami wanted to propose to you so many times - but it was never the right time, and then, there was no time left. ✴︎ contents: 18+ only, swearing, ANGST (major spoilers for jjk 120 (probably next week's episode, character death, exploration of grief, if you wish to avoid the major angst: stop reading after part 5), SMUT (fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), panty sniffing, semi public sex, nipple play, creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms), pet names (love, sweetheart), happy ending (sort of?) ✴︎ wc: 10,121 (i have a problem) ✴︎ song: the archer - taylor swift (blame laney for this)

One.

The first time Kento Nanami wanted to propose to you shouldn’t count.

And it won’t because it was when he first met you — enrolled into Jujutsu Tech along with the other first years, he first laid his eyes on you at a welcome party that the soon to be menace to his sanity, Satoru Gojo, had organized. Well, he could thank Gojo for one thing it was introducing you to the room — because he may have had to find the words to ask you himself. And he didn’t know if that was possible with his tongue in knots.

But he managed to talk to you — mostly with Haibara leading the conversation. You were reserved, at first, but he saw the spark in your eyes whenever you spoke about something you were passionate about — reading was one, one thing you both shared a love for.

“Yeah hauling my books to Jujutsu Tech wasn’t an easy feat, I had to ask Geto-senpai to have some of his cursed spirits help me haul it up to my dorm,”

“By the way, you still owe me lunch for that,” Geto smirks as he slips past, and the flush that settles on your cheeks is one Nanami wanted to see — again and again.

“Aren’t the upperclassmen supposed to buy lunch?” You grumble, pouting as Gojo interjected himself, resting himself on your shoulder with his arm, making you jump.

“Not here, here the kouhais earn their keep,” he grins, tilting his glasses down, “can you?”

And Nanami opens his mouth to reply, irritation creeping over his senses, before you brush Gojo off, “I’ll buy you lunch, but next time, if that’s what it’s gonna cost me, I’m going to have you two haul my books by hand up those steps,” You stick out your tongue, before your arms curl around his and Haibara, “let’s have cake,” you smile at both of them, gaze lingering on Nanami, “and we can exchange book recommendations?”

That was the moment he wanted to propose — could see himself living in a home with you, filled with both of your books lining the walls of a personal library, but your living room as well. He could see himself falling asleep beside you as you read to him, your fingers carding through his hair.

But no, no, it was irrational, he chided himself, as he talked to you, his lips curled in a smile that had damned him from the moment he saw it. He just had met you — he had barely been ever moved by another person, much less fallen in love. And it shouldn’t happen this quickly — it only happened this quickly in books — not in real life.

But you — he watched you and Haibara chat and laugh — you were someone that might just be the thing of books.

~~~~

Two.

The second time he wanted to propose, he didn’t care to remember.

And he barely did.

He remembers the facts of the mission. It was supposed to be simple — exorcise a grade 2 curse, simple enough for him and Haibara to handle by themselves. Not that they had a choice. Jujutsu Tech’s resources were already far too spread thin — Gojo himself being sent all over Japan and even overseas to handle things himself that no one should be able to. But their mission? It should have been simple — dangerous still, but simple.

But nothing was simple when it came to curses.

He remembers sensing the curse — the manifestation had frozen him and Haibara for a moment — their bodies taut with fear and adrenaline — but they couldn’t move. Even as the cursed spirit screeched before them, he couldn’t articulate what was happening — it was supposed to be a grade 2, it was supposed to be a grade 2, but no — this was a grade 1.

And then it struck — Kento barely had enough time to react, but he did, pushing Haibara out of the way when it did.

He didn’t remember much after that.

He remembered the squelch of Haibara’s flesh, the blood seeping through his clothes, the way his body crumpled on the ground, and he remembered the next moment was the first time he landed a black flash — stunning the curse enough for him to grab Haibara and escape.

But not enough to save him.

Haibara had made him promise if anything had ever happened to him — he would make sure his sister wasn’t recruited to Jujutsu Tech. And he had to make the call to his family — he couldn’t bear the thought of some higher up taking advantage of their grief to manipulate another into their clutches.

No, he couldn’t let that happen.

And now he sat in the morgue with his body, towel covering his eyes — Geto had come and went — and now he sat waiting for the body to be examined and taken away to be burned. Burned to ash with nothing left — that was the way all sorcerers bodies were disposed of. It was if they never existed in the first place - pawns in a never ending war that would have them piled like corpses on a sacrificial pyre.

What was the point?

Haibara had always told him — if there was something only he could do, he would do it. And for him it was jujutsu — but wasn’t there something else? Something else for him to do that didn’t let him up like this? A body on a metal slab waiting to be incinerated. What was the point?

Was there even a point? People lived and people died. He had lived and Haibara died, but he didn’t know why. Why or how do people live one day and disappear the next? He had seen death before but not of someone so close — someone so precious to him. And the chaos was too much for him. To be killed by another’s twisted feelings manifested into a monster — it was almost poetic if it wasn’t so fucking tragic.

“Nanami?” And he pulls the towel from his eyes, and sees you — your eyes glassy and red tinged — tear streaks you didn’t hide well left on your face, “Nanami—“ and you don’t know what to do with yourself — as you come to him, hesitating, “can I—“

But he’s the one pulling you into his arms, nearly into his lap as his fingers dig into the fabric of your jacket, “I’m sorry — I’m so sorry I wasn’t there—“ your voice breaks, and it’s enough to break him — he hadn’t really cried, not around another person, but tears well at your words, as your fingers card through his hair.

“You have nothing to be sorry for — I’m the one—“ and his voice breaks in turn, as the words stuck in his mind going round and round, until they were nearly had shattered his sanity and skull along with it, “I’m the one who couldn’t save him,”

And you pull back to look at him with tear stained cheeks, “that’s not your fault, Nanami—“

“How is it not?” His words are laced with more venom that he wishes them to be, a little more bite than he wished to chew, and the hurt in your eyes was enough to make him regret speaking altogether, “I’m so—“

“No, it’s not your fault, Kento,” and his eyes find yours, your lips twisted in a frown, and your gaze unwavering, “I know a part of you knows that — knows that…Haibara’s death is nothing but a function of this shitty system we’ve been funneled into. Nothing more. Nothing less. And you know,” your voice grows softer, “you know Haibara wouldn’t want you blaming yourself for this. You know what he’d say?” You almost chuckle, “he’d tell you not to sweat it. To keep going. That you got it, right?”

He gives a terse chuckle in return, shaking his head, as his head tilts into your chest again, “How do we—“

“I don’t know,” you murmur, you don’t need him to say more, “I don’t know how we do this without him, but we have to. We have to for him,” and your hand cups his face, tilting his chin up so he looks up at you, “together?”

And he wants to ask you then — ask you to marry him. He doesn’t know when he would get a chance. You were the only thing that made his life make sense — the only thing that made him feel okay, feel safe, for once. He was so tired of never feeling that way. And he had just lost the one other person who made him feel that way.

He knew you wouldn’t say yes. You couldn’t. You were both so young still, still reeling from Haibara, still stuck in this system that could kill either of you at any time. But still…wasn’t that all the more reason to do it?

But as you pulled him into another tight hug, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer in the Jujutsu world. He couldn’t — he couldn’t take another loss like this. He didn’t know if he could bear it. But as his tears wet your jacket, surrounded by you — your scent, your soft breath, your warm presence — he would try.

He would try for you. And his eyes slid to Haibara’s body covered by a sheet — and for him.

~~~

Three.

“After graduation, I’m leaving,” it was a late night, a couple days before graduation that he told you. The soft pitter-patter of rain was the only thing heard from int the silence before he spoke. You laid on the foot of his bed, reading a book, while he sat cross legged at the head of it, his eyes fixed on you.

Your gaze lifts from your book, brow furrowed in confusion, “Leaving?”

“I can’t be a jujutsu sorcerer,” his words are as plain as always, “I can’t do it. I’m going to go to college and pursue some other line of study—“

And you sit up slowly, putting your book aside, and he expects protests, expects you to convince him otherwise, expects you to try and stop him, but all you ask is one question, “are you sure?”

It catches him by surprise — as you always seemed to. He could anticipate enemy attacks, analyze their next moves five steps ahead, plan three routes of escape, and even predict what garbage will come out of Satoru Gojo’s obscene mouth, but you — you always could surprise him.

“I am,” he finally answers softly, “this society is shit, you know that. And these past few years have shown me that the difference I make isn’t worth the toll it’s taking, especially when I’m not changing anything,”

“Kento, you do make a difference,” your fingers find his, intertwining with ease, such ease he can’t help but think that’s what it was meant for, “you do — even if you can’t see it, I just want you to know, you do. For the people you help, even if you don’t see them, for the other sorcerers you inspire, and for me,”

And he chuckles, “even you?” And you roll your eyes, pouting — the same pout that makes him want to lean over and kiss you until your lips are utterly ruined.

“Even me,” you toss a pillow at him, and he catches it with ease, and you scowl playfully, “y’know i’m gonna miss you, but I’m not gonna miss that,”

“What? My quick reflex—“ and you smack him with another pillow and giggle, the noise making his lips quirk into a smile even as you laughed at him, hands covering your lips.

“What was that, Mr. Ratio? Your quick—“ and he’s tossing a pillow right back smacking you in the face, making his lips curl in a rare grin (though not so rare when he was with you—“

And you pull the pillow off, your face grim, “Oh, it’s so on—“ you’re tossing a pillow, but it’s only a diversion as you lunge for him, assumedly to mess up his hair, but he’s caught you by the wrist, his other hand around your waist as he’s gotten you pinned to the bed.

Time stops.

He’s breathing heavily, and you are too — from the rise and fall of your chest, but he can hardly hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears. Your lips part as you look up at him — you’re dressed in your sleep clothes, a thin tank top and shorts — and it would be so easy to lean down, let his palm slide under his shirt. He sees your eyes flicker down his body the same — climbing back up before pausing at his lips.

It wasn’t a good idea. He was leaving. You both were graduating. Who knows when he would see you again — yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Not when this is what he wanted for so long, when he wanted you for so long. But maybe he should — maybe it would be easier, he couldn’t ask you to leave Jujutsu Tech. Just as you couldn’t ask him to stay. He knew you would stay to honor Haibara’s memory, to carry on his legacy — the one thing sorcerers could do for their fallen comrades.

Sometimes the only thing.

And sometimes it was the only thing they couldn’t do.

“Kento—“ your voice pulls him from his reverie, as your fingers brush against his cheek, “are you going to hover over me forever, let me go, or…” and your teeth graze your lip, “are you going to kiss me?”

And he’s blinking, cheeks most assuredly flushing, as your fingers graze the back of his neck, and his mouth is dry, as he looks down on you.

But he doesn’t need to asked twice, as he leans even closer, delighting in how your breath catches, looming over him, “do you want me to kiss you?” And the telltale quirk of his lips makes you gape at him, drawing a laugh from him.

“I hate you,” you murmur, as his lips finally brush yours, swallowing those playfully bitter words with them — and your lips are even softer than he imagined, your fingers settling themselves on the back of his neck, brushing the hair that rested there.

And when he pulls away; his heart squeezes at the sight of your kiss ruined lips parted as you pant slightly, eyes fluttering open to look up at him as if to ask why did you stop? And he can’t help but smile.

“It’s too bad because I love you—“ the words slip from his mouth — but he doesn’t regret it. How can he? When he might not get another chance.

And he thinks his heart will stop at your silence again, the pitter-patter of raindrops ringing in his ears again, before your lips finally curl.

“You love me, huh?” You’re leaning up and kissing him, lips finding his again and again — and how is it that he’s already addicted? You taste like honey, and sunshine, and something headier — sending heat warmer than liquor throughout his body that only made him crave more of you, and you finally pull away, and you’re smiling, “good thing I love you too,”

And he can’t believe his ears, he can’t believe you love him too — all these years he thought it was one-sided, that he was deluding himself with all the times your fingers found his, your eyes met across a classroom with a smile, and the times he found himself falling asleep next to you all those nights neither of you wanted to be asleep, your arm curled around his.

But you did. You loved him. And he loved you.

And as your lips met again, he knew, he knew he still couldn’t ask you. Couldn’t ask you because he knew you maybe wouldn’t say no — and he couldn’t ask that of you. Not when it wasn’t what you wanted. Not when he knew you could do the good he couldn’t bring himself to do. And you would — because you were the best person he knows.

He loves you. And therefore he had to let you go.

But — as he lingered over you on his bed, his body hovering over his as he dragged his thumb over your red, puffy lips, before leaning down for another kiss —

He didn’t have to let you go this second.

~~~~

Four.

It’s years before he sees you again.

It wasn’t purposeful. Not exactly anyway.

It was just easier. Easier not to have to think of you still at the place he once was. Still fighting the same curses he would have been fighting with you. Still risking your life day in and day out. While he…he only had money to worry about. To think about. To obsess about.

Money. Money. Money. Money.

How was this somehow shittier than what the jujutsu world? He had considered going into a more humanitarian profession, but when his goal was to retire early, why waste time? If he wanted to help people…he glances at his phone — the one vice he allowed himself, a picture of you that you had sent him when you got promoted to Grade 1 saved as his screensaver — he could have stayed by your side.

No, he wanted to retire. Find himself a nice place to retire to — he hadn’t decided the exact location yet. Somewhere peaceful. With nothing but beaches and sky and sand and books for him to read, to reclaim his life page by page. But to get there — he had to slop through this shit work — making the rich richer.

The same in the jujutsu world, and the same here as well.

And it was one day after he had exorcised a curse from his favorite bakery’s worker, he had felt anything good — anything remotely good — in far too long. Your words rang in his ears — you make a difference.

Was he making a difference by lining the pockets of the rich? Maybe his sorcery wouldn’t change the world, move minds or hearts, pivot the course of history — but maybe he could have his own impact. And not feel like complete shit when he woke up every morning.

And he wouldn’t — he knew he wouldn’t — if he could just see you smile again. Even if he could just see you again. He pulls out his phone, staring at your picture. And maybe…maybe even more.

“Hello, Gojo? I’d like to return to Jujutsu Tech,” and he hears laughter on the other end, “why are you laughing?”

“Kento?” You drop the pen you’re holding, as he steps into your office. And your lips are parted in surprise, your eyes fixed on his, “what are you—“

“I’m coming back, to Jujutsu Tech, I’m going to be a sorcerer again,” and he knows what you’ll ask, he knows you’re going to ask why — you’re going to ask him if he’s sure. And he doesn’t know how to tell you except by saying it’s because of you.

But you don’t say anything, your chair screeches back as you get up, clattering backwards and suddenly as you’re running into his arms. Your face is buried in his chest, and he can feel the tears against his shirt, and his arms curl around you, fingers running through your hair, “I missed you so much,” you murmur, and then you look up at him, fingers tracing his cheeks, gingerly moving his glasses away, “you look tired,”

“I am, but I’m better now,” he’s murmuring — and how is it that you send him right back to where he started, right back to where you always send him. It doesn’t even take a touch — only a glance, a whiff, a second — “I missed you too,” he adds, “a lot,”

And you push him playfully, pouting up at him, “Could have fooled me. You barely ever called or texted me all these years. You talked more to Gojo than you did me,”

“That’s only because that flippant idiot won’t stop calling until I pick up,” he grumbles — Gojo was the last thing he wanted to talk about in his moment — his fingers caress your cheek, tracing the line of your cheekbone, “I wanted to talk to you — I did, I just, I knew if I talked to you, I might say something I’d regret,”

“And what would you regret saying to me?” You raise an eyebrow, and his eyes are sliding away from him.

Asking you to come see him, asking you to leave Jujutsu Tech for him, asking you to be with him — every question that he wanted to ask, but never could.

“It’s not important—” and your hand cups his cheek guiding his eyes back to yours, and he knew you weren’t going to let this go, “If I talked to you, I knew it would end one of three ways — one, I’d ask you to leave Jujutsu Tech; two, I’d come back to Jujutsu Tech; or three, you’d ask me one of these yourself — but I knew I couldn’t do that,”

And your brows knit together, “Why not?”

“Because it had to be our own decision — I couldn’t leave and you couldn’t leave, just because the other asked,” he murmurs, his gaze softening, “it wouldn’t be fair to either of us — or the other — to feel like the only reason we’re together was because of guilt or want for the other, not for ourselves,”

You consider his words for a moment, “I would have left if you asked me,”

“I know, and I would have come back if you had,”

“But we didn’t,” and your fingers cup his face, “you remember what I said to you that night that we kissed?”

And he swallows the lump in his throat, his heart rattling against his chest, “You said, you didn’t want to go further because it would only hurt more when we had to go our separate ways,” and your hand slides up his chest slowly, the other already resting against his neck, and his find their way to you — one hand holding your waist and the other cupping your cheek, “but we’re not separate anymore, are we?”

“I hope the wait was worth it,” you smile, as both close the gap, lips meeting again and again — and you taste the same, but even better somehow — and he’s only pulling you closer, lips curled in a smile so wide that he hadn’t felt in so long, so long.

“Always, when it's you,” he murmurs against your lips, before his lips begin to trail kisses down your jaw and then your neck, his teeth brushing against your pulse, pulling a gasp from your lips, “good girl,” And he feels your knees buckle against his and he’s walking you backwards into the edge of your desk, “is anyone left on campus?” and you’re shaking your head, your eyes flitting to the door, as he makes you sit on your desk, thighs parted for him to settle between.

“The door—”

“Locked,” he replies, drawing back only a moment to take in the image before him — your lips red and ruined, chest rising and falling as you look disheveled at best, sexed at worst, and your eyes — your eyes swirled with lust, half lidded and desperate for his touch— “didn’t want any interruptions,”

Just as he was.

His fingers draw up a strand of your hair and kisses it, and your lips part, “Kento, please—”

“Please, what, my love?” his voice is low and teasing, as his fingers peel back your jacket, pulling it off your shoulders, “you’re going to have to be more specific,” his lips find your neck, soft, wet kisses that has your body leaning into his, “I’m not a mind reader,”

“But you are a tease,” you pout, and he only smiles, leaning down to do the thing he always wanted to — he kisses the pout off your lips, moaning lightly when your lips part for his tongue, his hands dragging down your sides, as your fingers loosen his tie, “I think you will be doing overtime with me today, Nanami-Sensei,”

And he grunts, as your fingers free him of his tie, joining your jacket on the floor, “I’m not going to be a teacher, just a sorcerer,” his teeth graze right under your chin, nibbling, “so you’re the only sensei here — are you going to teach me what you’ve learned the last few years?”

And you toy with the top button of his blue button-up, “Oh, I’ll teach you, Kento,” and you’re starting to undo his buttons, as he busies himself undoing yours, “the question is whether you can handle it,”

“Beautiful,” he murmurs in reverence, and his fingers finally undo the buttons, sliding your shirt off your shoulders, eyes raking over your chest — sharp blue gaze lingering on the erect nipples poking through the fabric for your bra, “You’ve always been the one thing I can’t handle,” his mouth leans down, closing around one clothed nipple, while he teased the other with his fingers, and he delights in your gasp, the noise sending heat right down to his already aching cock, “but I’m willing to try, my love,”

“You still love me?” You murmur, as he shrugs off his own shirt, perfect abs teasing into a v-line, all this muscle hidden under his business attire — and you knew he still must work out, and he did. He did in case he ever needed to come back — come back for you.

“Who says I ever stopped?” His nose buried in the nape of your neck now, as his fingers teasingly snap the strap of your bra, “you smell so good, so perfect,” and his fingers undo your bra and it joins the pile of clothes growing on the floor, “there wasn’t a day I didn’t think about you — a night that i didn’t dream of you, that I didn’t want you,”

“Kento—“ you whimper, as he tugs at your skirt, a quick glance for your nod, and he slides it down your legs, bunching at your ankles until you kick it off. Your cheeks burn as he’s kissing your way down your body, his mouth teasing the other nipple he had neglected, trailing hot kisses down your stomach, until he reaches the fabric of your panties, “I need—“

“Been wanting to taste this for so long,” and he’s kneeling between your parted thighs, still calloused fingers parting your plush flesh, tongue flicking over his dry lips at the sight of the dark wet patch at the crotch of your underwear. And you look down at him, eyes glazed over with unadulterated lust that is almost enough to have him cumming in his pants, “so sweet,” he’s murmuring as he noses your clothes cunt, and you jerk, as he pulls the crotch aside, “wonder if you taste as sweet as you smell,”

“Kento—“ and his tongue drags over the length of your dripping cunt, nose bumping against your clit, as your thighs curl around him, pulling him closer, closer — “fuck—“

“Such a filthy mouth,” he tuts, smiling against your cunt as his tongue teases your folds, “almost as filthy as you are down here,” and his finger begins to part your walls, making your thighs shake and quake, his lips close around your clit, sucking.

You’re a mess of moans and pants, hips grinding against his touch, as one hand tries to muffle your moans, the other is curled in his blonde locks, “taste even better than I imagined — just f’me, only for me,” You’re so close, as he parts your folds with another finger, sinking knuckle deep, as his fingers brush against that one spot that has you parting your lips in a silent moan, head thrown back — and the heat deep in your stomach is going to snap.

KNOCK KNOCK.

You both freeze, your cunt jerking around his fingers, as you bite your lip — maybe if you’re silent, they’ll go away— but Kento clicks his tongue, a smile on his glossy cum covered lips, mouthing, “Speak,” and you gape at him, chest still heaving, as you shake your head, before he’s curling his fingers just right.

Fucker.

You hear Gojo’s voice, calling your name, “You in there?”

You swallow thickly, meeting Kento’s gaze — he’s not backing down, “Yeah, sorry I’m in the middle of something — do you need something?”

“I was just wondering if you heard from a certain salaryman, or should I say, ex-salaryman?” the very one that was burying his face back in your still sensitive pussy, slurping and licking, despite Gojo being right outside.

You have to bite back your moans, swallowing them as you speak, “You mean Nana—ah—mi?” And you feel the very same sorcerer smirk against your abused cunt, a third finger finding its way inside you, “ha-haven’t heard from him, and what do mean ‘ex?’”

You do your best at acting, but it’s hard when his mouth closes around your clit, sucking hard, as your fingers curl in his hair, biting your lip so hard, as he fucks your pussy in earnest with his fingers — how can Gojo not hear the nasty squelch of your cunt?

“He left his job. He’s coming back to Jujutsu Tech,” and he takes a beat, “I’ll take my leave,” and he chuckles, “have fun you two, and Nanami?” You feel your face flush, “don’t be too rough with her — we need our best teacher available to teach tomorrow,”

You hear his laugh all the way down the hall, and you’re covering your face — those fucking six eyes — but Kento’s tugging your hands away, “Pay attention to the one who’s filling you, love,” and he’s burying his face in your cunt, fucking you even harder — hitting that spot over and over, until you cum, back arching, as he’s pulling his fingers out to lap up the slick dripping from you, “delicious,” he murmurs, kissing your still sensitive clit, before he’s looking up at you — all fucked out, your chest rising and falling with every pant, your lips kiss ruined red — “and so beautiful,”

His licks his lips clean of your cum, wiping the rest with the back of his hand, as he rises to your feet, “Kento, please,” you’re murmuring, his hands slide over your body, squeezing your hips, “I need you,”

“What do you need—“ and his words are cut off by your fingers reaching for his buckle, the clink of the metal as you undid it, along with the button, tugging his pants and boxers down.

He hisses as his too sensitive dick slaps his stomach, your lips parting, eyes in a trance, “So pretty, Kento,” your fingers traces one of his veins to his already leaking tip, “and so fucking big,” you murmur, teasing the bead of precum on his slit, making him groan, “can’t wait to have this inside me — been waiting ten years,”

And he’s sliding your hand away, pressing his hips flush to yours, as your legs wrap around his waist, “That long huh?” And his lips find yours again, letting you taste yourself, “and I thought I was the only one pining,”

“So you admit you were pining for me?” And he laughs, as you smile up at him — like all the times he had hoped you would — “I had a crush from almost the moment I met you,”

“You could have fooled me,” he presses kisses up and down your jaw, drawing a moan from both of you as he teases your puffy clit with his aching tip, “I thought you had a crush on Geto,” and you scoff.

“Geto? So you were jealous of him — that’s why you always had that sour look whenever I studied with him,” you grin even wider, “well you had nothing to worry about - I had a crush on very gloomy boy and no one else ever caught my eye,”

And he softly smiles, and it seems to ebb away the years — the trauma and the tiredness — and left only him, your Kento.

“Is that right?” He asks before kissing you again, his fingers finding the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, as you moaned, muffled by his mouth, “I want—“

“I know, me too, please — don’t keep me waiting any longer,” and how could he refuse a request like that?

He’s sinking into you, thick cock parting your dripping folds until he hilts himself fully in you, his fingers digging your hips — and you’re so full, too full. And you’re perfect — perfect walls wrapped around him, so warm and so tight — it’s enough for him to neatly blow his load then and there.

But he can’t, can’t when he’s waited this long to do this. You’re whimpering, “S’good, Kento, too good,” your walls flutter around him as his hips shift lightly, “please, please move—“ his hands find your legs, lifting them higher to find a better angle, fingers digging into your soft thighs.

And his hips slowly thrust into you, edging you with his shallow thrusts, and you’re whining, “Kento—“

“Look at the mess you’re making all over your desk,” he’s guiding your gaze with two fingers on your chin, making you watch where his cock is sunk into you, “taking me so well, practically swallowing me, good fuckin’ girl,” he grunts, “want it harder? Want me to fuck you?”

Your desk is already creaking under your weights and the movements, you’re nodding wordlessly, lips parted, “Kento, please, I need—“ and you watched his cock pull out only to slam back in. Your head falls back, moaning his name again and again.

The squelch of your cunt rang in his ears over and over, as he grunts, barely keeping himself from cumming, especially when you begin to roll your hips into him, “You’re so pretty, and all mine — just mine,” and his lips find yours again, just as your walls flutter at his words, “like that? Like it when I claim you, love with my cock fucking you?” And his vulgar words only makes you tighter, and he grunts, “‘m close, sweetheart,”

“Me too—g’nna cum—“ and his dick reaches that spot right as his thumb bears down on your clit, teasing it in circles, until you’re moaning his name as you cum. Your walls clamp down, soaking his cock, a white ring of cum around his base as he fucks you through your orgasm.

His eyes meet yours as you do, watching your high overcome you, twitching and moaning — and he doesn’t last much longer. His hips stutter against you in shallow thrusts until he’s notching himself deep inside, groaning as he cums, hot seed painting your walls white.

“So perfect,” he murmurs, as he kisses your sweat slicked forehead, “so good,” and he’s grunting as he pulls out, watching your mixed releases trickle out, leaking all over your desk and onto the floor. He drags his cock over your weeping cunt, watching it flutter around nothing.

“Kento,” you murmur, gazing up at him, utterly blissed out as your lips curl, your legs slipping off his waist as he settles down on your desk, “I love you,”

And his heart squeezes — is he dreaming? He must be dreaming — because nothing in his life has ever been so good. So wonderful. So perfect. It didn’t happen for him — it never happened for him.

“I love you too,” he murmurs reverently, his fingers trailing over your jaw, “so much — you don’t know how much, darling,”

“Think you can quantify it for me, Mr. Salaryman?” And he snorts, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t call me that,” he kisses your neck — you smelled so good, were you real?

“Then what should I call you?”

And he wanted to ask you then — ask you to call him your husband, to marry you, to buy that ring he had looked at from time to time when he thought about marrying you. But you just found your way back to each other — hell, he had just slept with you in your office, not even a bed. It was too soon, but — his lips curled — he was closer than he had ever been before. And he wouldn’t wait, he wouldn’t hesitate, not when it was you. He wouldn’t let you slip through his fingers.

He smiles, “Just call me yours.”

~~~~

Five.

Today was the day.

He was finally going to ask. That’s what he thought when he looked at you, still in bed, bathed in the dappled sunlight let in by his parted curtains. You were still fast asleep beside him, body curled up so your body was pressed against him. He ran his fingers through your hair gently not to wake you, “I love you,” he murmurs, as opens his bedside drawer, pulling a ring box and notecard from it — and he stares at it.

He’d ask you. He would ask you to marry him — finally take you on that vacation to Malaysia you both had talked about for too long, read all the books you both had put off, and lounge on the beach — and do much more in your hotel room. And then maybe, maybe he could ask you to retire from jujutsu.

He had always promised himself, promised that he wouldn’t be a sorcerer when he got married. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving a family behind to mourn him — but even more than that, he couldn’t bear the thought to lose you, to call you his wife, call you his soulmate — and have you fall away from him.

He would rather be the one to die.

But this way — he rises, grabbing his clothes for the day, and slipping the ring and the note into his coat pocket — neither of you would have to worry about losing the other. At least to a curse.

“Where are we going?” You giggle as he drags you along the street, packed with people, more than usual. He keeps you close, an arm wrapped around you, especially for a Wednesday evening. What date was it? He had seemingly lost track of everything he had planned.

“It’s Halloween,” you remind him without him asking the question, “explains all costumed people and the packed streets — we should definitely avoid Shibuya — the crowds there would be insane,”

“How’d you know—“ and you tap his forehead with a smile.

“I could see your gears grinding, Kento,” you smile, resting your head against his shoulder, “and it’s just like you to forget it’s Halloween,”

“Is it?” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “well good thing I have you to remind me,”

“Very good thing, and I have you to remind me about everything else,” and he nods, and you elbow him, “you don’t have to remind me of that much!”

“You were leaving the house yesterday and you forgot your wallet, keys, and purse — you almost forgot to put on shoes—“ and you’re covering his mouth his your hand.

“How about you remind me about where we’re going?” And he smiles against your hand, before kissing it gently, pulling it from his lips and kissing the back of your hand as well, making you flush.

“Why ruin the surprise—” and then both of your phones ring — the two of you share a dark look, glancing at your phones and seeing the same message — Emergency: veil has fallen over certain areas of Shibuya. All available sorcerers report.

“I guess we are going to Shibuya,” you sigh, running your fingers through your hair, “we should—”

“We should stop by the apartment — we both left all our equipment there and I need to change,” and you nod, as his fingers toy with the ring box in his pocket, a sigh stuck in his throat. When will he ever get the chance to do this right? Finally, he had worked up the nerve and this—this had to happen.

“Hey,” you cup his cheek, a soft smile on your face, “I’m sorry our plans are falling through, and just when I was going to make you give up this secret surprise,”

His lips curl, as his arm pulls you even closer, “I don’t recall agreeing to give up any secrets,” and you lean up and kiss him, soft and sweet quickly turning heady — neither of you were ones for public displays — but for some reason, it just felt right. And you part, breath warming his lips with a wide grin.

“Oh, you would have,” and he laughs, squeezing your hips, as he rests his forehead against yours, “We’ll pick this up right after we deal with this problem.”

He nodded, leaning down to kiss you again and again, his fingers still toying with the box in his pocket. And he wanted to ask right then, just drop to his knee in the middle of this packed street full of costumed weirdos and freaks, mission be damned, jujutsu be damned — but he didn’t want to do it like this.

He wanted it to be a time where both of you were safe, where you could celebrate without the fear of danger beating down your necks, where he could talk to you, hold you, kiss you — without fear it would be the last. Because he always wondered when it would be the last. But it wouldn’t be — he’d do anything to make it back, to finally take that step with you, the one he’d been waiting for over ten years to take. Take that vacation you both wanted with his ring on your finger, and retirement from Jujutsu around the corner.

And he squeezes your hand, “Promise?” and you lean into him, pulling him along the street back to your shared apartment.

“Promise.”

~~~

He wouldn’t be able to keep his promise.

That’s what kept repeating in his mind with every step he took. He couldn’t really feel much — not anymore. That special grade curse had burned him — burned half of his body to a crisp, he could barely smell the burning flesh anymore. All he could do was keep moving. Moving. Moving. Moving.

But he didn’t want to move anymore — he was tired. So tired. He couldn’t feel much, but he could feel the weight of having to keep going, even if he didn’t want to.

And now, he stands before a swarm of…curses? Transfigured humans? He didn’t know — he could barely see at this point out of his one remaining eye — he could barely keep it open, still drooping even as the monsters loomed before him.

“Malaysia…Yeah, Malaysia…Kuantan would have been nice,” the recommendation he had gotten from Mei Mei when trying to decide on a vacation for you and him to take — who better to ask than the woman with all the time and money in the world, a little brother who’d take her anywhere she wished. You both had settled on Malaysia, still panning out the details of when, but he had planned to surprise you with open ended tickets for the both of you — paid extra for them, in case something came up.

He almost chuckles. Something always came up.

Maybe if you both had liked it enough, he’d have a private home built for the two of you — with the little library nook you always dreamed of having, finally getting around to reading the countless books you both had bought and never read, go through page by page and take back the time you both have lost.

But right now each step felt like an eternity as he walked.

Where was he going again? Oh yes, to help Fushiguro. And what about Naobito and Maki? What had happened to them? There wasn’t much he could do about that.

Tired. He was so tired. I’ve done enough, haven’t I?

Hadn’t he done enough? He thought he had done enough when he left — left it all behind like a nightmare he didn’t care to revisit. Left the loss, the pain, the anger — the curses really — all behind him, in exchange for another set — greed, money, power. What was really the best option? Had he made the right choice?

But then he thought about you.

Your smiles, your touch, your kisses, your laughs — all the times he spent with you — slow mornings spent reading the paper together over coffee and toast from the bakery you always went out of your way to buy his favorites from; lazy evenings spent watching movies or reading, your legs intertwined as you did, his arm around your shoulders, until you plucked the book from his fingers made it so you were only thing his eyes were on; and sleepless but perfect nights spent in each other’s arms. The many times he wanted to ask you — the one question he never got to ask you still burned on the tip of his tongue like a curse unspoken, and he knew if he spoke it now, it would be one.

And so he did what he did best, he dispatched the curses, quick and easy. And his lips curled despite himself — at the thought of you. He could almost feel your lips on his still from earlier, the sweet scent of you instead of the smell of blood or burning flesh, he could almost see you too.

A hand rested on his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

Mahito stared back at him.

Oh. Oh.

It was over.

I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry I can’t keep my promise. I’m sorry I can’t propose. I’m sorry I can’t marry you. I’m sorry I can’t have the life we wanted. I’m sorry I came back only to leave you with the worst curse of them all.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Nanami says, staring back at the curse — and it reminds of that time — that time Mahito had him in his domain, he truly had resigned himself to death. Resigned himself to die — and then Itadori had come crashing in, crashing in as he did his life, saving him. Saving him by not only by his very existence as Sukuna’s vessel, but by just his sheer strength.

That kid had really grown on him — he didn’t want him to. Not when he had the same positivity, the same smile, the same kindness…as Haibara. It was illogical. He wasn’t Haibara — he was Sukuna’s vessel, and he wouldn’t acknowledge him, he wouldn’t until he proved himself. But he’d protect him, and he would do what he could. Because being a child isn’t a sin — but perhaps, being a jujutsu sorcerer is one.

“Yup. The whole time,” Mahito replies, lips upturned in a slight smile, “Wanna chat? We go way back, after all,”

Nanami’s eyes shift to the floor, the muddied and bloodied tiles underneath his feet — he didn’t care to divulge his deepest feelings to a curse. There were only two people he could talk to about this — and one of them, he supposed, was now closer to his being than the other.

Haibara, what the hell was I trying to do? He asks in his mind, not even daring to say the words aloud, I ran. Even though I ran away, I came back with the vague reason of finding the work worthwhile.

And then he sees him. Haibara appears in front of him, patented smile on his lips, as he points south — points right at—

“Itadori,” Mahito says, his eyes narrowing.

“Nanamin!” his eyes wide as he takes in his state — oh, he had hoped no one would see him like this, much less Yuji. He had already been through so much, so young — hell, he had already died once. He didn’t deserve to see this. He didn’t deserve to grow up like this — to have his youth ripped away. But, did any of them deserve it?

It was a marathon, a marathon that they found themselves in that headed only towards a pile of corpses — but each time, they had to pass the baton before they stopped.

Could he finally stop?

He had dropped his baton so long ago, dropped and left the track, but he knew it would be picked up by another and another and another — but it was his baton, his baton that Haibara had handed him before he died in his arms.

No, Haibara. That’s not right. I can’t say that to him. It’ll just end up becoming a curse for him.

But it’s a curse every jujutsu sorcerer had to bear — made to bear until there were either no curses or no sorcerers left.

But he couldn’t regret it now.

“Itadori,” his lips curl, smiling for the last time, “you’ve got it from here.”

He couldn’t keep his promise to you — but he kept his one to Haibara.

And you’d pay the price.

~~~

This wasn’t real. Was it?

You stood outside your shared apartment with Kento. Finally a stop to the fighting for a month for everyone to train — enough time for you to retrieve some cursed weapons you had left behind — not knowing the fight would drag on for this long. You had considering sending someone — maybe not Ijichi but someone else to retrieve them, but right now, you couldn’t bear the thought of someone else rifling through Kento’s things. Moving the things that he had placed just so — the last remnants of his life, the marks he left that proved he was there, that he lived — that he had lived.

Lived. Past tense. And now you were still living — living in a world without him.

You inserted your key and turned the lock, opening the door. And it did, just like it had every day. Each day you’d open it — sometimes before Kento, other days after — but each time, there was always a meal Kento had prepped or bought waiting for you.

And this was the first time that there wasn’t.

Not only a meal — there was no one waiting for you. Not here.

You closed the door behind you — no longer a home, just an apartment. You needed to remember the things you needed, your mind was nowhere to be found, and fled the country when you had heard the news. You didn’t cry. Not at first.

Yuji was the one to tell you. He shouldn’t have been the one to see it. You knew it haunted his dreams, you knew he blamed himself, you knew — because Kento had done the same. So you hugged him, let him cry silently into your shirt, comforted him the best you could — because you knew that’s what Kento would have wanted.

He loved Yuji — he loved Ino too, and the other students all held a special place for him, but Yuji — Yuji was a special case. You knew that from the moment he had spoken about him.

“Gojo wants me to mentor Sukuna’s vessel,” he told you one night in bed, having returned from a mission and having a drink with Gojo — not a real drink, Kento had clarified, since it had no alcohol in it — but a drink nonetheless.

“He has a name, Kento. Itadori. He’s sweet,” you smile, you had met him and all the other first years from teaching, “he’s a good kid — very new to all of this, but he has a good heart and some good skills under his belt.”

“A vessel for the ticking time bomb has a good heart? Glad to hear it,” he sighs, running his hands through his hair, “I don’t know — he was a normal kid two minutes ago, and now he’s running around with Gojo feeding him Sukuna’s fingers every second,” he leans back against the headrest, “what am I supposed to make of this? I’m not even a teacher,”

“And what have you been doing with Ino?” you raise an eyebrow, “that kid is constantly after you, dogging your every step — he looks up to you. “And I know a lot of the other students do too, the ones that know you,”

“It’s—”

“You should do this. It would be good for you,” and he’s hesitating, “Yuji needs a sorcerer to guide him — teach him the basics that Gojo has neglected to do, and show him how a proper jujutsu sorcerer who isn’t…a special case like Gojo, operates.”

Kento’s lips curl, “You know you can call him a moron,”

“Why call him that when I have you to call him that for me?” you snort, “now what do you say?”

And he eventually agreed — and it was the best decision for him. It gave him more purpose, more drive — he seemed even more fulfilled — the most you had seen him professionally fulfilled in quite some time.

“You got it from here.”

His last words to Yuji. You almost have to scoff at the poeticness of it all — the same words Haibara had told him. The ones he hadn’t told you for nearly a decade, until one night he had told you what he said.

“And why didn’t you leave any words for me, Kento?” you ask the empty apartment before you, “for so long, we didn’t have each other — we couldn’t. And we finally find our way back, we finally do all the things we said we would — you’re gone, again,” your voice breaks, “I wish, I wish you were here. I wish I could see you. I wish—” and you break off.

There’s no point for wishing for things that can’t happen. You had things to do, and little time to waste. You needed to get stronger too. You needed to be useful. You needed to fight. You couldn’t tarnish Kento’s memory, or — you look at a picture that you had taken of him and Yuji a few days before outside a convenience store you had stopped by after a mission — his legacy.

You searched for the things you needed, placing them in cloth bags and then paper bags for easy and inconspicuous transport, but you needed to label them. You searched your apartment for a pen — but apparently you had misplaced every single one that you had — where the hell were all the pens? A question you’d usually ask Kento and he’d produce one from thin air. No matter what you lost or what you needed — he had it.

He always had it.

If he did always have what you needed, then maybe…you walk into the bedroom, over to his nightstand — he often kept a notebook for thoughts and notes in his bedside table so maybe—-

And there it was — a pen, but it wasn’t the pen that made you pause — it was the two things beside it.

A notecard and a ring box.

A ring box.

Your hands shake, and you almost want to close the drawer. Forget you say anything. Continue with the work you’re doing. It would hurt less.

But you can’t. You can’t.

You reach for the notecard first, fingers shaking as you gingerly pick it up — and you can tell this wasn’t the first he had written on. You could see the indentations from his pen, this card underneath the others as he had wrote. But his handwriting was neat, yet messy at the same time — his patented half print, half cursive scrawl that he hadn’t left.

Your legs buckle and you sit down on the edge of the bed — the side he used to sleep on, his arm wrapped around your waist, face buried in your back, his lips brushing against your skin when he finally stirred. And now it was empty.

My love, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to ask you this. I’ve thought of ways to ask for years — I had to write it down just so I didn’t mince my words or ramble — you know I’m not one to drag out conversations. I love you. I’ve always loved you from the moment I met you — I know you’d tease me for pining for you, but I did pine for you and I’ve pined for you every second we’re apart. The other times I’ve wanted to ask you, the timing never worked out. But we have the time now, don’t we? Will you do me the honor of being your husband? I’ll spend every second making you happy, because that’s what you deserve, sweetheart. Only the best.

And your tears splatter against the corner of the card, before you put it down, as you let your sobs overcome you, screams you didn’t know you were capable of making— you didn’t even realize it was you, until your throat began to ache.

Why? Why? Why?

It wasn’t real, this wasn’t happening.

And your fingers reach for the ring box now, opening it only to feel more tears well — it was the ring you had showed him. One you had showed him one late night when it had showed up somewhere or another — you hadn’t even thought about the ring again. Until now.

You can’t bear to touch it. You can’t. Not when he wasn’t there to pull it from its box and slip it onto your finger. And he never would be. Not until you saw him again — one way or another.

You snap the box closed, tears slipping down your cheeks as you placed the box and card back into the drawer — noticing something else underneath — a printout? And you pull the papers out, scanning it.

You almost sob. A trip to Kuantan, Malaysia. The trip you two had talked about for months, but never had gone on. The trip was more for Kento than it was for you — and it was for you, in a way, because what you wanted the most was to just be with him. Time was all you wished for with him — all you wanted — but you knew you could have spent every moment with him for the last ten years and it wouldn’t have been enough.

It would never have been enough.

“I miss you,” you speak to the ghosts that fill your mind and haunt your dreams — Kento and Yu, “I hope you’re at peace. I hope you’re lying on a beach somewhere, reading the books you wanted to read, drinking an expensive drink, and eating the bread you love — I promise, I’ll find my way to you, someday,”

And you place the things back in the drawer, and shut it.

For now, you had other things to do. Other people to protect, other curses to exorcise. But — you stare at the picture of the two of you on your nightstand — his love was the one curse you could never give up.

Many months later.

You take that vacation he wanted. Packing the books he always wanted to read. Pocketing the ring he wanted to propose to you with. You’d pack a few shirts of his to wear on the beach, and maybe he would be lying beside you in spirit. You would find that beach he wanted to take you to — the one he had written down and had looked up several times while booking your trip.

You kept the seat beside you on the plane empty but you ordered a glass of wine and a sandwich for him regardless. You know you would have ended up ordering because he likely would have fallen asleep — old man he always was. And if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was sitting in the seat beside you.

He wasn’t dead. Not really, you think as you sit in the beach in one of his deep blue button ups thrown over your swimsuit, reading one of his books page by page, taking back the time that was stolen from him with your own — minutes and hours and days you’d wish you could take off your own and give to him.

He was alive, he was alive as long as you were, as long as the people who he was important to were alive. And he was alive — alive in your head and your heart and your very soul.

You read his proposal aloud as the sun sets, tears slipping down your face as you slip his ring onto your finger. And there it would stay.

Stayed all the seconds, minutes, hours, days, and years you lived -- lived in the house you built in Malaysia when all was said and done for you in the jujutsu world, just as Kento had wanted. Stayed until you finally saw him again. Saw him standing beside Haibara, softly smiling behind him, as your eyes fluttered open as he greeted you. Lips curled in that same smile that damned you from the moment you saw it.

“Don’t keep me waiting, love,” he smiles, the same words you had said to him, “we’ve both waited long enough, haven’t we?”

But neither of you had to wait anymore — as you run into his arms, warm and made of flesh and blood and real, so real — you had forever now.

✴︎ a/n: first, i'm so sorry lol. i don't know how the spirit of gege possessed me but i decided to inflict some pain. i have to thank @laneysmusings for proofing this for me and having to endure this pain. I also want to credit @/tempenensis for their post on haibara / jjk 120 that helped inspire/inform the third to last scene (but they don't like self-insert so i am not gonna tag them, but you should check out their tumblr!

✴︎ taglist: @your-local-simplol, @renawithane, @grooveandshit, @aemondseyesocket, @nitskilanara, @yunchans, @ackermanbby, @luminouslateralup, @multi-fandom3, @idktbhloley, @minteaful, @malleusmybelovedd, @lighttism, @lemonpoppy-seed, @nitskilanara, @wshwshi, @rreborn, @reyy-chanx, @kiradoki, @uroldall, @madam-milf, @elusivemoon

#sab [mlist]#nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami smut #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #nanami fanfiction #kento nanami angst #jjk angst #nanami x you #nanami x reader

2K notes · View notes

chosaya · 7 months

Text

BITTERSWEET VENGEANCE !

synopsis : Nothing is better than getting revenge on your cheating husband!

warning: angst. smut, overstimulation, pussy eating, creampie +aftercare, cursing, cheater! nanami, revenge, best friends to lovers trope.

Wc: 2.8k

Marriage is something that binds people closer together but not in this case.

They had gone through thick and thin together, supporting each other in times of need and always standing by each other's sides. No matter what life decided to throw at them, they faced it together as one.

Nanami and you have been married for a couple of years now. Things have been distant between the two of them every time he comes home now. Before, he used to kiss your forehead every time he came from work, and would always tell you how his day was going. Now, all he does is brush you off as if you are bothering him and ignore you.

You have tried to ask him what is wrong in the past , but he never gives you a straight answer. You can't help but feel like something is wrong and the distance between the two of you keeps growing. You don't know what to do anymore, but you know that if you don't figure out what the problem is soon, you are afraid that your marriage is in danger.

There had been a small part of you that hoped today would be different from the hectic week you had. As soon as you saw the calendar that marked your anniversary, you smiled to yourself. You knew very well that this was going to be one of the most special days for you two.

You felt a wave of disappointment as the time passed and he hadn't shown up yet…

You tried to remind yourself that it wasn't always going to be easy and that sometimes people have things that come up but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by his negligence. You sighed as you looked at the clock again, waiting for him to show up.

There was a spread displayed on the dining table, together with a bouquet of rose petals, candles, platters of his favorite foods, along with a bunch of rose petals as well, as well as a bunch of rose petals as well. The clock began ticking as the time passed and still no sign of him could be seen. It was getting later and later as time passed, but there was still no response back or call.

He couldn’t forget the most important day of your lives could he?

In the beginning, your husband started coming home late and became unresponsive to your phone calls and text messages. You were concerned, yet hopeful that he was simply caught up in something at work.

While sitting in your living room one evening, you heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway as suddenly as you heard it come up the driveway.

It was a surprise for you when you found out that your husband was going to arrive home later than he normally would, even though this is not something that he would have done. As you got up from your seat, you stepped up with a sense of frustration that was tinged with worry.

Whenever your husband Nanami entered the house, his warm smile would always light up your face, and he would kiss your forehead before telling you about his day over dinner, which he always gave upon entering. But this time, something had changed.

Today, he did not appear to put a smile on his face, and he seemed as if he was in a somber state of mind.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease, wondering what could have happened to cause this sudden change in his demeanor. Was it work-related stress? Or perhaps something more personal? As you tried to make sense of the situation, your mind was flooded with questions.

The once comfortable and familiar atmosphere of your home now felt tinged with uncertainty.

Thinking it was just because he had a bad day at work, you'd shrug it off, assuming that your husband needed some time alone.

You were so wrong..

You approached Nanami later that day cautiously, unsure of how to address the situation. "Is everything alright kento?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine concern. But he merely nodded, avoiding eye contact, and headed straight to the bedroom without uttering a word. Confusion and worry engulfed you as you stood there, left with more questions than answers.

No advil.

There was a lot of pressure on you to give him space, as you were hoping that the time alone would help him overcome whatever it was that was bothering him. Yet, deep down, you knew that there was something more than meets the eye when it came to his behavior.

It was as if there were some deeper meaning behind it. Several signs indicated that something was wrong when he was coming home late at night, his calls being unanswered, and the absence of his warm smile at those times as he tells you about this day.

Having finally convinced him that you are serious about trying to resolve the issue, you tried to speak to him in a full and candid way about it, trying to voice out your thoughts.

“Nanami, why have you been ignoring me and answering my calls lately?. Did I do something wrong..” You asked him sitting across from the couch, crossing your arms over your shoulder awaiting his response.

“I’m sorry baby, work has been stressing me out lately. I became exhausted afterwards.” He replied back, a sigh escaping his lips before setting down the mug on the coffee table to face your direction.

“enough to forget our anniversary? without a fucking text or anything..” you spat out angrily as your eyebrows furrowed together in frustration, crossing your legs over one another.

“Of course not, I brought you home a bouquet of flowers and one more thing..” you huffed out for a moment before nanami handed you the freshly picked flowers and a beautiful diamond necklace with your name carved into it, all your thoughts were washed away as he did this.

“Aw baby this is beautiful but—.” you continued to speak but interrupted by nanami before you could.

“I know you're still mad about me being late, so how about lunch at your favorite restaurant tomorrow?” you couldn’t help but smile at his works, holding the flower in your arms tightly.

“Fine but don’t break this promise kento, I’m serious.” You said, pressing a soft kiss on his lips before pulling away from him as you both looked into each other's arms with a loving gaze.

“I promise.”

The morning of the next following day, you were getting ready to go out with Nanami on the date that he had promised you before. You were wearing his favorite color black dress as well as some gold jewelry to complement it.

You headed down to the kitchen as you seen Nanami finishing up some last minute paperwork in his office, told you he would be ready in a few minutes before heading upstairs to get his tie, and as he left his phone unlocked, an unknown sender appeared on the home screen and said

"Hey baby, I can't wait to see you tonight"! It was like your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw the message from another woman on his phone, and you couldn't help but freeze at the sight, swallowing harshly as you pushed it away for a moment.

This left your stomach churning with disgust and you could not comprehend how he could have betrayed you in such a way, especially considering that you were married to him for years.

“Hey baby, I'm ready.” Nanami shouted as he made his way up the steps to the office where he had left you before. Nanami's smile vanished as he saw the sight before him coming up behind you and wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck as he whispered to you.

"I am sorry." in your ear softly but you slowly pushed him away as you allowed the tears to fall from your eyes and balled up his fists as It was as if your heart had just shattered into pieces.

“No you're not, kento. You're only sorry I found out about your little “girlfriend” you shouted at him, wiping the tears off your faces as you felt your lungs on fire from crying so much.

“Baby.. I can explain—.”

“No, I'm done with you..” Before he was able to say another word you slammed the door behind you and hurried out of the house before getting into your car and driving away, still hurt and betrayed by the man who had taken advantage of your marriage all these years.

The last few weeks have been rough for you after you left your marriage still carrying the hurt and betrayal inside of you, your lips parted with a sigh as you sipped your tea in the restaurant kento promised he would take you to, but never did.

A ding of a bell was heard back in the coffee shop and your thoughts were interrupted by it. You couldn't help but glance towards that direction when you spotted your long-term friend whom you've known since you were children.

choso kamo

In the shop, Choso sat right next to you on the bar stool while you two talked for a while recalling the good times. On top of that, you finally broke the silence telling him about the marriage of your now ex husband and how he cheated on you.

In response to your words, he let out a deep sigh and held you close to his chest, still pissed off at Nanami and determined to show you that he was there for you and that he could do better than anything he had ever done before.

He massaged small circles into your back as you snuggled closer to him, rubbing small circles into his chest as you leaned closer to him telling you he was going to be there for you now.

“Don’t worry I’m going to take care of you, like a real man should.” he murmured out before walking you out the coffee shop to his place for the night.

Meanwhile,Nanami still desperately tried to reach out through calls but no answer as you'd eventually blocked his number. You were slowly becoming happy again but this time with someone better.

When Nanami stepped into his car, as he was heading to work, he felt as though he was dying on the inside as he sighed as he felt like he had gone through the process.

His ash blond hair was a mess all over his head, and the bags under his eyes were due to a lack of sleep he had been getting. While driving, he started dozing off in an attempt to keep himself awake as the other vehicles were blowing at him to concentrate on the road in front of him. He ended up swerving and getting hit by a semi truck, causing his car to roll.

The paramedics quickly checked the vital signs of Nanami and confirmed that he was still alive for now.

They then proceeded to carefully extract him from the car, ensuring that his injuries were not made worse by the process.

Once he was out, they quickly loaded him onto a stretcher and loaded him into the ambulance. The ambulance drove off at full speed, rushing Nanami to the hospital for emergency treatment.

The paramedics rushed Nanami to the hospital and he was quickly moved to a room. The doctors immediately hooked him up to a breathing tube to keep his breathing steady.

After a thorough examination, they diagnosed him with a severe concussion and he soon went into a coma. The doctors weren't sure when he would wake up, but they knew the damage to his brain was permanent.

You had been hoping against hope that Nanami would be okay, but it seemed that fate had other plans.

You reap what you sow.

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you tried to wrap your head around the news, you let go of Choso, feeling a sense of despair wash over you knew that you had to be strong for both of you now, but it was hard to ignore it.

Choso’s patience and understanding were a much needed tender love after everything that happened this past week, He’d let you stay with him as long as you needed to.

His presence was a reminder that you are never alone and that he was always there to support you. You two had been friends for a while, but something special started to grow between you two.

After a month of spending time together, you both could feel the connection and decided to make it official. He would take you out on lunch dates, shower you with love and affection, and make you feel like the most cherished person in the world.

Choso always took his time with you..

His soft lips placed wet kisses against your neck sending shivers down your spine as his hands roamed under your shirt—toying with your breast before gently latching his lips on your sensitive nipple, using his free head to squeeze your other breast in between his fingers.

“So pretty baby.” he cooed against you ghosting over your chest before detaching himself from your nipple with a pop, His lips curved into a smirk as he reaches his hand down to tug your panties down your ankles, you felt his hot breath ghost against your wet folds

—lightly licking and sucking on it. He smirks against you maintaining eye contact, rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb in a circular motion making you arch your back, your hand reaching down to grip the strands of his hair.

“—Fuck, ..choso feels so good..” a shaky whine escaped your lips,nails digging into the couch cushions. Your hips bucked against his hand as the pleasure built up inside of you.

His tongue moved against your clit, teasing it, as his slender fingers moved in and out of pussy with ease picking up the pace groaning against you focusing on how pretty you sound moaning his name.

“You taste so fucking good..baby.” he purred pulling his head up to breathe for a moment as his tongue was relentless as it continued to lick your clit, sending pulses of pleasure through your body, and you felt your legs trembling under his touch.

Your body shudders and trembles with pleasure, sending electric shocks up your spine. Choso slender fingers curl inside you , rubbing against your walls, coaxing your orgasm from you.

“—..fuck…mpht.. g—onna c-cum.”you managed to stammer out, gripping his hair tightly, feeling his teeth lightly grazed against your clit, arching your back against his face as his hand grips your thighs keeping, his steady pace increasing the pace of his fingers on your inside of you.

Your breath catches in your throat as his tongue circles the sensitive cunt and your body starts to tense up. His teeth lightly graze against your clit, sending you over the edge.

“Be a good girl and cum for me.” He teases against your skin, loving how much your body reacts underneath him.

Choso tongue circles around your throbbing clit, licking and teasing it until you can't take it any longer. He gently sucks on your clit as he teases it with his tongue, tittering you the edge.

You can feel the pressure oursing through your body as you reach your peak, and he doesn't let up even as you climax. His fingers curl inside of you, pushing you further and further over the edge as you breathless let out a moan of pleasure

—-closing your eyes and savoring the moment, feeling the warmth of his tongue and the gentle caress of his lips against your skin. You feel the waves of pleasure wash over you as he continues to lick and tease your clit, pushing you to the edge of ecstasy.

Soon the pleasure builds to an overwhelming intensity, and you let out a cry of pleasure as you reach your climax. Your body trembles and your breaths become short and ragged as you reach the peak of pleasure.

You lay there, exhausted, as he pulls away, licking the cum off his lips and pressing a soft kiss against your forehead before heading to the bathroom.

He came back soon after and helped you up, supporting your weight as you stumbled to the bathroom, and you both settled into the tub, with him behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist, and you both just relaxed in the warm water, feeling content and satisfied.

You were relieved to be able to relax, and you allowed yourself to drift away as the warm water of the bath soothes your aching body for the night.

Looks like nanami got a taste of his own medicine(in heaven)

@kazushawty @hoshigray @hqkalon @merakidoll @ncentic @ghoulishfrk @zarihaaa @erensbaebee @honeybleed @kentoism @katviez @satocidal @satoruhour @dprkento @littlemochabunni @killzenin @ryukenzz @jilval @syliseslove @preciousamethyst @spideyyeet @charbunxxi @chrollohearttags @omgeto @kingkonoha @rinacantspell @tsukiboo @junevenile @junemaru @cyberssapphic @xsatoru @ramonathinks @marimogf

1K notes · View notes

actuallysaiyan · 4 months

Note

Thank you for opening requests!!! I desperately needed some Nanami fluff (with slight angst, blame my hormones) 😔❤️

Reader is carrying Kento's first child, however the whole pregnancy was difficult, even putting reader's life on the line at times. Needless to say he's been quite supportive but during labor there's nothing he can do as he sees countless doctors rushing in the room.

warnings: angst, mentions of hospitals, mentions of abortions, difficult pregnancy, pregnancy, giving birth, probable mentions of blood, mentions of death and loss, happy ending!!!, breastfeeding, lots of crying word count: 1.3k pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: your pregnancy was tough and though you were determined to carry your child to term, it didn't come without a few bumps in the road. now faced with the prospect of losing you, Kento sits and waits in what he believes must be his own purgatory. a/n: Thank you for this amazing request!!! I hope you enjoy!!! Also please note I've never given birth nor been pregnant, so if things seem off, then that's why.

He’s nearly tearing his hair out of his head as he sits near the door to the hospital room where you are. You’re in labor, yet he’s not allowed inside the room. The pregnancy had been so difficult, and even with your beloved doing everything in his power to support you, the coming of your child was something that needed much more medical intervention than previously thought.

Tears sting his eyes as he watches so many doctors enter the room you’re in right now. Kento thinks about how beautiful you looked when you first became pregnant. You were absolutely glowing, and you were very much excited to carry your first born to term. Things got complicated within the second month, the doctor finding a few anomalies. Yet he had told both of you that it wouldn’t be anything to worry about. Turns out ‘nothing to worry about’ is a lot to worry about. The next ultrasound proved to be nothing but a lot of bad news. The doctor had even suggested terminating the pregnancy and to try again, but Kento had pushed for this one to keep going.

You had agreed. The doctor promised to do everything in his power to ensure that you’d be fine. Lots of bedrest, no stress and all kinds of vitamins. Lots of doctors appointments. Kento had been there with you the entire time as well. He’d leave work early most days just to be there with you at the apartment. You slept most of the day, but Kento was sure to help you with anything else you needed to do on a daily basis.

The last doctor’s appointment had been a tough one. You and Kento received the news that the birth could be extra complicated. The doctor warned about how it could potentially put you in a very rough spot in terms of health after this. He had told Kento that he’d probably need to take up most of the parental role at the beginning. Once you were allowed to go home after the birth, you’d be most likely on bedrest once again.

Kento looks over at the door of the room, his eyes still so cloudy with tears. He’s gripping the plastic of the chair, wanting nothing more than to burst into that room and hold your hand. From time to time, he’d hear the doctors calling out to one another. He heard little bits and pieces, and his heart rate escalated as he heard one of them talk about saving the baby over you. Kento wished he could go into the room and tell them not to do that.

He can’t help himself anymore. Tears spill from his eyes, and Kento removes his sunglasses. He reaches into his pocket for the monogrammed handkerchief to wipe his tears. His heart is in his throat and feels sick to his stomach. His hands shake as he reaches for the phone in his pocket, wondering who he should call just to talk to in the moment. He’s scared and he’s never been more scared in his entire life right now. Kento feels small and insignificant. What kind of husband is he if he can’t even be with his ailing wife right now?

The minutes drag on and on and on. It’s beginning to hurt him deeply. Like tiny little cuts all over his heart, breaking open and tearing the muscle to shreds. His breathing is shaky as he watches less and less people go into the room. His mind wanders; the worst possible outcomes rushing through every little thought. You’ll be dead before he can even come into the room and see you. He’ll never get to see your beautiful smile again. Kento thinks of all the times he was graced with that angelic smile. It hurts so deeply, he swears he’s going to be sick.

Then, a miracle happens… he hears the cry of a baby. His baby. His heart skips a beat and comes back thumping like a hummingbird. The baby was alright. But were you alright? Did you make it out of it in one piece? Kento knows he doesn’t care if he has to take care of your little one for the rest of his days if it means he gets to have you in his arms again. He’ll gladly be the best dad to your little baby and give you all the time you need to rest.

A few minutes later, one of the nurses slowly approaches him. She has a tiny little bundle in her arms, and the tears begin to well up in Kento’s eyes once more.

“Nanami-san?” She calls out to him, and he gets up from his chair and approaches her.

“It’s me…I’m Kento Nanami.”

She unveils the little bundle and Nanami begins to cry when he sees his little daughter. She’s crying a little, and he sees that she has his eyes. His heart feels so full for a moment, then he begins to think back to you. The nurse hands him the small baby and soon she’s looking up at her dad.

“Your wife needs a little more care. She’s lost a lot of blood—”

Kento’s eyes widen, “Will she be okay?!”

The nurse smiles patiently, “Your wife will be okay. She just needs a little extra care. The doctors have stopped the bleeding. I just thought you’d like to see your little one.”

Kento sighs a breath of relief. His heart feels full again. And then he hiccups softly when he feels his little baby reaching out to him. She’s so tiny and so soft and so cute. Her eyes look just like his own. She has your nose and your smile. And she has his ears, which makes him laugh.

“If you’d like to come with me, I can get you situated in a comfortable room and we’ll bring your wife in when she’s ready to be in the recovery room.”

Nanami nods happily; he’s at a loss for words. He follows the nurse to a recovery room that was set up for the baby and the mother. He’s seated in a very comfortable chair, the little daughter still safely nestled in his arms. The nurse tells him she’ll be back with his wife once she’s ready to be in recovery.

At that moment. Kento begins to fall in love all over again. His little baby is really here in his arms. She coos and coughs a little, still getting used to being outside in the world. She’s so tiny and so precious. More tears slide down his cheek as he leans down to press the softest little kiss on her forehead.

“Hi my sweetness…you’re a part of the Nanami family now. Yes you are, my little angel.”

His words surprise him a little, but he’s been waiting for this moment for so long. It felt agonizing to watch you go through the worst pregnancy ever. It’s all worth it to finally be able to hold this little bundle of joy. He presses another kiss to her forehead and he begins to relax a little more.

After an hour, the nurse knocks on the door. Then she opens it, and she and another nurse are wheeling in his wife on a gurney. You look at Kento and you see the tears in his eyes. He’s so relieved to see you well enough to be here with him. Kento gets up as the bed is settled into the right position.

“You did it, my love. You gave birth to our little angel.” Kento says as he begins to settle the sleeping baby into your arms. She fusses a little and you undo your hospital gown top to let her feed from your breast.

“I’m so grateful, Ken. I didn’t know what was going to happen…and I…” you hiccup softly. Your little girl latches onto the nipple and you feel your heart filling with joy as she begins to suckle.

“Shhh…it’s okay, my love. We’re okay. You’re okay.” Kento reassures you.

He looks at you feeding your daughter, and he knows nothing will ever take either of you away from him. Nothing.

507 notes · View notes

junosmindpalace · 5 months

Text

kento thinks you’re pretty.

your appearance doesn’t stick out in any drastic way, but the sense of stability you bring with simply a kind smile and gentle voice make kento think, from the moment he first stood in front of you as you introduced yourself as awkward teenagers, that you were pretty.

he sees you mostly in passing, and he always bows his head respectfully in response to your small grin and accompanying wave. you weren’t bouncing off the walls or getting yourself into whatever sort of mischief his other upperclassmen typically did that warranted frequent violent scoldings from yaga, and in a way it was comforting. perhaps because you presence was grounding amidst the world of chaos he lived in. it's a world that doesn't suit him very well.

it’s a hot summer day and he notices you sitting against a tall tree and basking in its shade. the heat makes his thoughts go a little awry and his eyes linger on you for a little longer than what can be considered a passing glance. you take notice of him and wave with a small chuckle, and kento thinks you’re really pretty.

too pretty to be hanging out around the juveniles he calls upperclassmen, having to tolerate their nonsense on the daily. but also way too pretty to be hanging around someone like him.

you’re too pretty for the society this school trains you to contribute to. with every passing glance, with every month that goes by they the two of you grow closer, with every conversation you hold with him and every kind act you perform, he’s more and more sure of it.

he confesses this to you as if you held pliers to his mouth and threatened to yank his teeth out if he didn’t, when in actuality your arms were wrapped lovingly around his waist and you stared up at him in confusion.

it’s been years since your high school days now, your features more mature and your souls a little more hardened and having taxes that needed to be paid, and kento still thinks you’re pretty.

he’s no longer a student, and he no longer wears his hair in that god awful side part that you used to tease him for, but he still finds himself staring at you and thinking that you’re too pretty for this god awful world. with every meal you share in your apartment, with every late night conversation prompted by some ridiculous thought you had, with every lingering hug and kiss before you two head off for work, he continues to be more and more sure of it.

it’s reaffirmed to him time and time again, and it kills him. maybe out there there is a world worthy of your beauty, that’s as beautiful inside and out as you are. but it’s certainly not the one you two currently live in.

but you reciprocated his feelings at eighteen and gave him time at twenty two and didn’t hesitate to happily accept when he asked you to move in with him at twenty five. you helped bandage him up when he got hurt and brought his favorite bakery treats on your way home from the school.

your own beauty made his world a little prettier.

you told him you’d like to see the world outside of your norm someday. maybe malaysia, you thought to yourself aloud as you drifted off to sleep in his arms the night he asked you what you had in mind.

and so he will do everything in his power to create a world that’s as pretty as you.

#i misshimreally bad #i wrote this in 30 mins #i’ve been stressed so here’s the best dude ever for comfort #sorry for not writing very much life has been busy #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami fluff #kento nanami angst #kento nanami oneshot #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento oneshot #jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujutsu kaisen x reader

393 notes · View notes

sweetfushi · 21 days

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ EMBODIMENT OF A DREAM.

SYNOPSIS. having survived a near-death experience, you and nanami decide to fulfil his wish. settling down in malaysia has brought peace of mind to the both of you.

WORD COUNT. 0.8K.

TAGS. kento nanami x female!reader, tooth-rotting fluff, angst, mentions of scars and burns, established relationship, nostalgia, a lot of just nanami reflecting on his life and being so utterly in love with you.

Nanami looked at peace. It wasn’t an unfamiliar expression he had: eased shoulders; a smooth brow, and a soft breathing. You had witnessed him like this before, the day of your wedding, the week of your honeymoon - practically every other day by your side. But as the sun shined on his toned figure, his expansive back, you found yourself holding your breath at his vulnerability. Moments like these were ones you valued most because you were the sole person who had access to them.

“You’re adorable,” Nanami mumbles, eyes fluttering to remain open as he observes you. Your wandering eyes lock with his at the sound of his low voice and you smile. “Good morning, husband,” you let out a breathy laugh, pushing his hair back to press a kiss to his forehead. He inhales deeply and wraps an arm around you, pulling you into bed with him.

You yelp at the sudden manoeuvre, giggling when Nanami buries his face in your neck and exhales. You can feel the small smile forming on his lips as you wrap your arms around him and pull him into you, throwing a leg over his waist. “Good morning, wife,” he murmurs, smiling harder at your content sigh and the sensation of your nails running across his scalp.

“I ordered us a breakfast buffet so you better not let the food get cold,” you warn, trailing your hands down to run your nails up and down his back. “The coffee smells really good. I wanna head down to the market to see what blends there are,” you continue. “Sounds like something you’d be interested in, no?”

Nanami only nods, evidently still tired. You pout and smack his shoulder, causing him to chuckle under his breath. “You’re so violent,” he groans, gazing up at you. “We can head out after food, and food will be had after I get up.”

You pause momentarily. “Which will happen when, exactly?”

He kisses your neck and shuffles out of bed, grabbing his glasses. He gets to his feet. “You’re awfully demanding, my love.” He shakes his head in mock frustration, throwing a towel over his shoulder and heading into the bathroom.

After a prompt fifteen minutes, he emerges looking and smelling fresh, dressed in a white t-shirt and dark brown slacks. He fiddles with his watch as he strolls downstairs and finds you laying the food out on the kitchen island. Your robe falls down your shoulder as you do, igniting a warmth in his stomach.

He feels an inexplicable sense of serenity with you as a core part of his life. He’d only ever imagined retiring with a wall-length bookshelf alongside a view of the beach - only the sound of the waves and the turning of pages to accompany him. In the two years that he had moved to Kuantan with you following your marriage, he remained in contact with his former colleagues and friends (a word he never would have anticipated to call them).

Even now, he finds himself admiring you, as though a distant figure watching the target of his affection with no true intention, simply to settle in your calming aura.

“You weren’t kidding about the coffee. It smells divine,” he says, approaching you and helping you pull things out of the delivery bags. His eyes light up slightly at the sight of the latest newspaper resting beside his designated plate of food, glancing at you with an appreciative sparkle in his eye.

“Oh, but you have to try the French toast. My mouth was watering just touching the lid of the box.” You open said box up to reveal a still hot platter of French toast smothered in butter, syrup and fruit.

Nanami watches as your eyes roll back in sheer delight, your tongue darting out to lick your lips as you sit down opposite him and serve yourself a portion of the toast. He watches, his heart skipping a beat, as the sun beams behind you, lighting the right side of your face as you enjoy your meal. You paid no mind to his entranced state, too engrossed in a rant of your plans and consuming half the food you ordered.

He, however, found his grip on the newspaper slipping as he watched the way you pinned your hair up, cracked a window open, and took a sip of water before continuing your ranting. It was hard to believe that you could continue to call him the source of your happiness, the receiver of your love and attention, when he had suffered the way he did. The left side of his body functions as a stark reminder of his abandoned life, his skin scorched a deep red, his nerves almost inactive in the area. Yet you continue to caress him, press kisses to his scars, and rid him of the guilt entrenched in him. He didn’t know if there was truly a sufficient way to reciprocate this tenderness.

Above all, he continues to cherish the blessing you embody - a blessing of comfort, repose and beauty. A blessing he hopes to protect and appreciate so long as your names are destined for each other.

#jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami #jjk x reader #kento nanami x reader #jjk scenarios #jjk fic #jjk drabble #jjk fluff #jjk angst #kento nanami fluff #kento nanami angst #kento nanami jjk #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami angst

290 notes · View notes

svgvru · 8 months

Text

✮ 𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗘 𝗔𝗦𝗞𝗘𝗗: idk if you'll accept this request, but some jjk men x male reader head-canons of them taking care of depressed!reader? (they're secretlyin love with him) maybe a gf or friend died or smth and they notice reader is becoming depressed?

𝗗𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗖𝗧! ꒰ gojo, geto, nanami, yuuta / m!reader ꒱: mentions of death,depression, weight loss, panic attacks, ptsd, and anxiety. angst, hurt/comfort, these hcs are alot take caution.

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 isnt for the faint of heart, but sometimes there is no choice. and something that comes with the price of being a sorcerer is that death constantly surrounds you. whether or not your partner is a sorcerer or not, they could be killed at any moment. and you were aware of that, but in the moment pain unlike any other struck. it hurt, it burned, it made you want to throw things, fight, anything to relief the pain. they watched when you brutally killed the cause of your partner's death, anger and grief coated on your face. it hurt for them to see you like this. so broken, unlike how you are normally. when they wished they were with you, that you didn't already have someone, thi sis not what they meant. so they do everything in their power to help you feel better.

SATORU GOJO

꒰ satoru would be the man to give you some space. whether it was him during his teenage years or him in his adult life. he understands how it feels to lose someone, and to grief. so at first he gives youspace, offering help to you if you need it, carefully keeping watch on you while sticking to a distance. and after a while, bandage or blindfold, he could tell something was wrong. you stopped talking, stopped eating, your uniform didn't quite fit anymore. he didn't notice it until he thought about the times youpushed away his generous offers of sweet treats. he noticed the eyebags, and the dullness of your once bright eyes. he had to help.

꒰ the regret (PTSD) that he wasn't able to save his best friend years ago still stuck to him. he mentally punished himself for missing the signs that something was wrong, that suguru needed. there was no way, he was going to let the man he loves so much reach the level that suguru went to. he quicklyand desperately lunged to help. he reached out hishand and no matter if you pushed him away, cursed him out, threw something at him, he'll drop infinity and wrap you in his gargantuan arms and gave you ahug you desprately needed. he gives you the intimacy you pushed away from. he lets you cry on intimacy you pushed away from. he lets you cry on his shoulder, just holding you, no matter how long it takes, he'll hold you until you fall asleep in his arms. he'd never put you down, he probably wouldn't say a word.

꒰ talk? he'll listen. need to punch something? he'll train with you. his hands were gentlewith you, they wipe away your tears and hold you close, giving you the warmth you so desperately need. and slowly but surely he'l encourage you. he'll delicately push you to hang out with him and shoko once in a while. he'll hand you small meals that get abit bigger after a certain time. he'l give you his sweets and ever so carefully slide his hand intoyours. and if you jerk back he won't get mad, hell be hurt, but he understands. he respects your boundaries. but if you let him hold your hand, you'll see the happiest satoru giggling about some prankhe pulled on nanami. he'l slowly do somewhat romantic things, or he'll plan things that force you to socialize.

꒰ would carefully test the waters with you throughtout the years. he never wanted to be too soon with making his feelings known, so he was patient and waited until you looked much healthier. he waits until you finally start choosing to social,choosing to smile, to go on missions again. satoru gojo loves you, he always will, even if you don't love him back. but he'll always make subtle tries. whether it be jokes or slight touches, testing what he can and cannot do. regardless, he's there for you. no matterwhat. he might not be the best at communicating his emotions, or comforting your own. but he lets you know he's there, waiting with a free hug. as afriend or boyfriend. and if he gets to call you his husband? that's even better.

SUGURU GETO

꒰ suguru would also be someone who tries togive you space, but he just doesn't. like most jujutsu sorcerers do, he understands the pain of losing someone. and he knows what happened to himself after amanai's death. he never wants you to go through the same struggle he went through. so while he'l let you grieve how you do, he's paying close attention to and sticking to you, making sure youdon't decline. he'd do anything for you to make youheal correctly instead of just temporaryily stapling the wound like he did. whether that be sitting fully clothed in the bath with you, or being the big spoon and holding you for hours. if you just couldn't keepup with your hygiene like you used to, he'l cut your hair for you, help you brush your teeth. if you really need help bathing, he'll help with that too. he'll just remain extremely concerned for your wellbeing.

꒰ when i say watches you, i mean watches you. there's no "summer stress" excuse with him. (i think) he's one to be gentle with you, while be firm. he's not one to yell at you, but will use a stern voice to encourage you if need be. if you are one to have panic attacks, the first time it happened, it freaked him out. he pretty much didn't leave you after that. however, he learned how to calm you down, how to help. its hurts him to see such a strong man so ruined, and the curse that harmed your partner was by far one of the worst tasting ones. but no matter what, he'll hold you. your back to his chest and his arms wrapped securely around you, encouraging you to take deep breaths, attempting to ground you in any way he could.

꒰ this experience is probably one where the two of you get closer. he'd never, push you too far, or even try anything intimate with you unless you let him. the farthest he's ever gone is maybe a hug that he got a nod of approval for. but if you need it, he'll cradle your head to his chest and likely hum to get you to fall asleep (something he used to do with nanako and mimiko). after a while, his humming isone of the only ways to get you to fall asleep. and he'll do it everytime without fail. suguru wants you, he does. and every night he hums to help you sleephe wishes he could hold you and kiss your foreheadhe wishes he could provide more intimate comfort, he wouldn't dare ask for. however, when your eyes bags start to disappear and your no longer looking as ifyour lugging around your limbs he finds the tiniest bit of hope. but no matter what, suguru is a man of consent. and he'll wait, and wait. carefully takingcare of you, treating you like glass, while hee ncourages you do things. he'll wait until he can finally hold your hand. the time suguru geto would wait for you never has a limit. he'll always wait for you, whether it be with a comforting hug or a kiss.

KENTO NANAMI

꒰ who better to understand you than him? kento nanami who lost his other half, Yuu Haibara, at the age of 16. he understands perfectly, which is why he doesn't leave you alone. if you explicitly ask for space, he'll give it to you. but otherwise, he's not leaving you be at all. he knows your a strong man, he's seen you fight. but nothing could break a man more than losing the person he loves. and he saw you lose your person and his heart broke along with yours. this man cannot stand seeing you sad ordepressed. the second he notices signs that go beyond the five stages of grief, he interferes. like suguru, he's one to be gentle while using a firm tone. he'll hold you like you're glass, but he'll also drag youalong to supervise gojo's students. he'll let you pour your feelinga out on him, but he'll tell you eat a quarter, then a half, then three-fourths, then the whole meal. he won't be aggressive, but he'll still be like.."eat" (gradually over time though! he doesn't want to push you that rough).

꒰ now he coped by being a workaholic, if your that type he has to dive into hypocrite mode and tell you to sit down for once. if you don't cope that way, but another negative way, he will do anything in hispower to stop you. if something he does in particular comforts you, then he'll keep doing it. he'll speak to you calmly, and let you rest your head on hisshoulder despite not being a touchy person. if need be he'll let you sleep over at his apartment and personally cook you breakfast. and despite how annoying gojo may be, kento does recognize that he often raises the atmosphere of the room to being more playful, so he does suggest hanging out with gojo and his students a lot.

꒰ now he's not an intimate person, and i don't think he'd ever try anything intimate with you. he understands that loosing a part of you hurts, and he would never accidentally hurt you by trying to be bold. he'salso not a physically intimate person. so yes, he does love you, so much. he'd do anything for you, but he'd never outright say or show it, especially after your tradegy. even years later, he'd likely not say much about his feelings. someone like gojo would have to convince him to say something to you or else he'l be stuck with the feeling unrequited love till the day he dies. but regardless, he respects boundaries and doesn't try to be as risky. if you don't like him, he'll have to deal with that. if you do decide to give it atry, he's literally ecstatic, but only in his head. he'll give you one his rare smiles and maybe hold yourhand.

YUUTA OKKOTSU

꒰ (OH GOD). yuuta's almost sharing the experience with you. he's re-experiencing what he went through, and he hates it. not that he would regret his relationship rika, but rather he hates that he has to experience you going through what he had to. hes so scrambly and worried. his mind is constantly running through different thoughts and how to help you. he likes you, so of course hell help you. but how? he gets anxious that he's bothering you, thathes making the process worse as he tries to stick toyou and let you talk about it him. (oh, its over for him if your an angry griever). regardless, yuuta has good ears. as in he's a good listener. he'd let you ramble, scream (he'd jump), cry, anything. he'd listen to youand validate your feelings. if you'llet him he'd carefully play with your hair and tell you he understands, he'l tell you how he'll do anything to help. i also think he's fantastic at hugs. to matter how jittery or anxious he may be, if you need a good hug and shoulder to cry on, he's right there.

꒰ when it comes to your physical health, he doesn't play. he's still kind of nervous when it comesto encouraging you. but if he starts to notic eeyebags, or loss in your weight (trust. hell notice), he immediately does everything in his power to help you. and he tries to be as happy as he can, thinking that maybe his happiness would eventually spread to you, or at least boost your attitude. he'd run to youwill a meal the both of you can share so you don't feel intimidating by having to eat a whole meal again, if you stopped. he'd suggest the both of you getting haircuts together if you let your hair grow too long. when it comes to stuff like that he suggets doing it together so you don't feel alone, so you don't feel like your terrible for letting this happen. if your hygiene got bad he'd never ridicule you or anything. yuuta would tell you its okay and like i said, offer getting haircuts for the both of you, offer getting clothes together, he'd try and encorperate your schedules together without being too pushy.

꒰ yuuta would be very nervous when it comes to the fact that he still loves you. the last time he was remotely in love with someone, he got hit by car and he accidentally cursed her. he's never really experienced healthy romance, or a a healthy life. he never really desired love, with the assumption rika would always come in between, preventing him from having healthy human interactions. but when it came to you, he's never wanted a relationship so bad. and he still wants you, but in understanding what its like to lose someone you love, he never pushes. he never tries to touch you too intimately or suggest intimate things. he's patient, he'll wait for you if he needs to. even if you don't like him like that, he'll always be available to you as someone you can go to for anything. he'd be in pain just like he was when you started dating someone else. but he knows its painful and hard to come back from losing someone so important. if you do heal, if you do want him like he wants you, he'd probably cry. but for right now he'll just remain someone you could trust and talk to.

꒰ n: repost from my original acc! i still hope i did this, and their characters, justice tho. ꒱

424 notes · View notes

itsfairly · 5 months

Text

10:22pm // Nanami Kento x gn!reader

word count: 1.4k

cw: gn!reader, fluff, slight angst if you squint, established-sh relationship, basically yall are dating but not publically, alcohol mentions, death mentions (no one dies).

summary: you're out drinking with other staff at jujutsu high when you decided to step out. when nanami comes and joins you, small talk gets you two thinking.

a/n: i half in a bathroom stall when drunk, what was i even doing? i was supposed to meet no people not pin over my fictional husband. anyways, yeah, took an impromptu break but hey, if i wasn't feeling like writing, i wasn't gonna push it. but here i am again, wanting to write, so here is this!

“What are you doing here?”

You turned around, looking at Nanami standing a few feet before you. You sigh, your breath creating a small fog against the cold of the night as you lean against the bar’s entrance by the window.

“It was too loud.”

“And it’s too cold.” He responds, taking off his blazer and wrapping it around your shoulders.

You chuckled, clinging to the warmth of the fabric. “They are gonna know if they see us like this. They are all right there and we are right on sight, you know?”

Nanami walks beside you, looking at the street before you two. You were right. Considering that the two of you seemed like just coworkers to everyone else but something else between you two behind the privacy of whatever space you could find, seeing you two together like this with his blazer around you was going to raise some flags. And yet, he couldn’t help but search for you when he noticed you were gone for a longer time than his liking.

“Gojo is keeping them busy, trying to get them to play his game of saying why they like him for them to even notice we left.” He looked through the window, where, sure enough, a sober Gojo was determined to get those reasons out of the either drunk or tired rest of the table. It didn’t seem like it was successful despite Gojo’s huge energetic grin.

“Is that the real reason why you stepped out?” You smirked, teasing at his rather push-and-pull dynamic with the white-haired sorcerer. “Because you didn’t want to play that?”

“I can have multiple reasons why I stepped out. Maybe that’s one of them, but seeing you in the cold was another one.” He looked down at you, his voice softening as he saw how you were gripping his blazer closer to you. “A big one at that.”

You chuckled, looking with a warm smile that made the cold become much more bearable even when standing outside the bar well past sunset. “Aw, what a gentleman.”

“You deserve one. I want to be one for you.” He said, his eyes on the street before the two of you.

If you didn’t know better, you would say he’s quite flustered. Despite his composed demeanor, he was not looking into your eyes when he said such genuine and affectionate words, but rather towards the street in front of you two. It was almost like a confession despite how many times the two of you have gone on dinners together, or grazed each other’s hands when others weren’t looking, or the soft “be safe” whispers whenever either of you went on a mission. Yeah, those acts were confessions within themselves and you were fine with them, knowing that he wasn’t the most vocal about his feelings upfront. But hearing such feelings come from his lips into a soft and gentle tone meant a lot. Those nine words meant that he was opening up to you more and more.

You furrow your brows, however. It didn’t matter how direct his or your words were or their frequency, being a sorcerer wasn’t the best job to fall for your coworkers. Death lurked in every mission, reminding you of how dangerous it was and how painful it would be if either of you would just be gone. Never again to tease him about how buying books was his hobby rather than reading them, never again for him to feel your hands on his shoulders as you insists on helping him relax as you massaged them, never again to see each other’s eyes full of life and the possibility—the yearning of being more. The longing to not be restricted of being together because you didn’t know how much you had left.

It may be the alcohol that got you thinking about this, but it was always a thought you wanted to push away whenever you saw him, wanting to feel the happiness of what you were experiencing rather than feeling the pain of what-ifs. You wanted more, to be closer to him. Sometimes, you could see how he ached for the same despite his wish to not burden you—or anyone for that matter—with the uncertainty of his safety.

But one thing was certain, not only tonight as he accompanied you outside with your breath puffing into the air while the rest of the group drank the night away for some escape of the jujutsu world, but every day since the distance between you shortened by the day.

He never burdened you with the uncertainty of his love for you—because it was certain and it was visible in the most beautiful way. His longing for you, his worry for you, his inability to completely adhere to his idea of staying single while a sorcerer, his goddamn devotion towards you that it made you wonder how no one has even caught on that you two are a thing. He loved you, loves you in the smallest ways that, when put together, are the biggest act one has ever done for you.

“You are.” You whisper, not even realizing the words escaped from your mind and were spoken into existence until he turned to look at you. Now that you had his attention, you stood a little straighter and said with much more conviction, “you already are.”

Nanami takes a second. His eyes looking deep into yours, unable to look away as if he is trying to read them. His brows mirror yours, knitting together ever so slightly. He was taken back by how much softer you looked in this moment despite the cold tensing your body. The warm light from the bar spilled outside and kissed your skin with a yellow, gentle glow. It was hard staying away from you, which is why it was a no brainer to follow you when you stepped out. It wasn’t just because he wanted to check on you, but because you always managed to pull him closer to you without even trying. You felt so close, but he wanted you closer.

It felt natural the moment he grabbed your hand, entwining his fingers with yours without giving it much thought of his own. He was tired of thinking anyway. He didn’t want to gather more reasons to stay away from you when the feeling on his heart weighed too much for them to hold water against it. He didn’t want to love you from afar, to have you in an arm’s reach but never hold you for the world to see. He didn’t want you to be like the books that sat on his shelves, gathering dust that taunted him with the fact he bought them and had yet to read them. He didn’t want that with you. He wanted to read you like a book. To go as far as to highlight his favorite parts of you, to read you over and over until he could recite you from memory to the world. He wanted you to be his favorite book in that sense.

“Then I’ll make sure to be more than just a gentleman to you.” He adds, his thumb moving against the back of your hand to warm it up.

Without skipping a beat, you take a deep breath before repeating your words, “you already are, Kento. More than that even.”

As your hand squeezes him and your eyes shine as if they were reflecting the moon themselves, things become certain for him as well. You loved him. Through the teasing and the burden of what could happen to either of you, you loved him with such a confidence and fulfillment that the feeling would stay the same for a long time and your actions would follow. You wanted to close that distance and hold him in your hands with such care and warmth that would shelter him from the stress of his everyday life. To cherish his skin, his hair, and every crook and cranny that he allowed you to see and touch until your fingertips burned with his feel as if you were to draw a map of him from memory. He was your favorite sensation in the world. You wanted to protect and nurture that sensation called Nanami Kento.

“I guess we want the same thing then.” Nanami softly spoke, taking a deep breath and squeezed your hand back.

“You guess right.” You answered back, nodding slightly with a smile.

Nanami nods back, holding your hand and guiding you back to inside the bar and back to your coworkers. This time, when you get near the group, he doesn't let go of your hand and you don’t let go of his.

389 notes · View notes

hauntedhokage · 7 months

Text

at 1am

Nanami Kento/Reader (no pronouns)

word count: 665

warnings: angst, hurt no comfort

[crossposted to ao3] [prompt list]

He was late again. Absurdly late, this time, and the pristine kitchen tells him that you were feeling a way about it but didn’t want to call him. Which meant you had been crying, because that was mostly when you cried you didn’t want to talk to him.

The half melted candles in the trash did a great job of telling him how long you’d waited, since they’d been sitting in the cabinet to wait for a special occasion so he knew they’d been burning for at least an hour until you gave up on the ambience - gave up on him - and started cleaning up. He wasn’t going to ruin your tidy kitchen, so instead he quietly makes his way through the apartment to get to the bedroom.

He’s concerned when it’s empty. You’re not asleep, not sitting up in bed with a book waiting for him to be subjected to your frustrated glare, just the neatly made bed. The concern bubbles into fear when he enters the bathroom and sees most of your grooming supplies gone. No hair supplies, no toothbrush, body wash and shampoo all gone with just a note taped to the mirror that he didn’t bother to open.

When he pulls his phone from his pocket he catches the time, and he didn’t realize that it was that late. 1:15am stares back at him, covering part of your forehead in the picture that was his lockscreen. You should be asleep, but something tells him that you’re not and he runs the gamble of calling to see where you were.

Four rings, then he’s sent to voicemail. You were awake when you should have been sleeping, almost like you were waiting for him.

So he calls again. This time you answer after two rings.

“So I exist now?”

“Where are you?” He knows better than to feed into your emotions when you’re mad at him. He knows that meeting your emotion with his own will only cause more problems, and any hope for an objective conversation would be gone for at least a week. “I just got home.”

“Don’t call it your home, Kento. You and I both know that your home is that office.”

“My home is with you, that’s why I’m working so hard to ensure that you’re taken care of.”

“So you skip our anniversary dinner? It’s after 1am and you’re just now getting back!?”

You were getting more emotional, and he actually doesn’t know how to fix it if he’s not looking at you. Usually he could defuse the bomb with eye contact as he spoke to you, you could see the sincerity in his words and believe him. But he also supposed after a while he couldn’t expect that to continue to work if his behavior wasn’t changing.

“Please tell me where you are.”

“I don’t want to see you.”

“I’ll stay home. I just want to know that you’re somewhere safe.”

“I’m at a hotel. The one with the nice restaurant you took me to.” He nods, although you can’t see it as he’s writing the name down. He’d call in the morning to have breakfast sent to your room, it was the least he could do. “Do you love me, Kento?”

You’re tired and upset, obviously not thinking clearly if you’re asking him a question like that. But he supposed he understood why you’d ask. It hadn’t been just this dinner, after all. Repeated habits say a lot about a person, he just hates that it gives you a question like that.

“Of course I love you.”

“Start acting like it.” You’ve hung up on him, ending the conversation with a simple directive that feels like a knife in his heart. No declaration of love for him, no request that he drink some water or sleep well, just a directive that was so unlike you but he knows that he pushed you to that point. You were hurt, and he could only blame himself for that.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento angst #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #gender neutral fanfic #kento nanami angst #nanami kento x y/n #jk x reader #jjk imagines #nanami kento imagine #kento nanami imagine

368 notes · View notes

sexlapis · 5 months

Text

# TAINTED FLOWERS

nanami x student!sorcerer!reader

synopsis: you were fed misleading details about the mission you were given. nanami is late to the scene.

gender neutral reader, angst, death (not of reader or nanami), hurt/comfort, descriptions of death, blood, dead bodies & gore, protective nanami, mentions of haibara, can be read as platonic or romantic

wc: 2k

a/n: in a sad mood, i miss nanami & i wanted to write something a little dark so here ^_^

posted on ao3 here

masterlists

uneven gasps leave you mouth, your chest heaving heavily with each breath. blood soaks the blue colour of your uniform as you sit on your knees, staring at the aftermath of the chaos which ensued minutes before.

what once was lavender-coloured, fragrant flowers and fresh, verdant grass, were now painted crimson, tainted and sodden with the blood of your ally, who lay mere feet away, still, limp and unmoving.

regretfully, you look to where she lay, hoping that by some miracle, she is fine and well and victorious.

the sight of your friend has you heaving.

well, what remained of your friend.

whatever lower body she once possessed, was gone. ripped and essentially disintegrated. what it left is a deep puddle of red that pools around her widely. her patent, mary jane shoes stand in the puddle and her ruffled, previously white socks rest in them, dripping and soaked in her own blood.

her face. her face. her face.

it was barely recognisable. it was hardly even there-

acid falls out of your mouth and onto the grass on the ground, burning your throat and mouth. your clammy hands grip your thighs as the last remnants exit your body. droplets of sweat litter your forehead as you quiver, your limbs weak. they feel weighed from the battle and the fast loss of adrenaline.

you have the instinct to check on her. to make sure she’s dead or to check she’s alive, you don’t know.

but you know. deep down, you know.

mushy, salmon flesh is sprayed upwards from where her head is, the most is piled up at her “skull”, like a mountain of slush. an eyeball bulges in the middle of it all.

tears stream down your face before you even realise it, in shock, fear, despair, anger and disbelief.

low risk mission, they said.

it won’t be too dangerous, they said.

you will both be able to handle it, they said.

lies. lies. lies.

you hear faint shouting, your mind far, far away from earth at this point as you look at what was a friend of yours.

you hear running on the grass, and the yells becoming louder and louder, the ringing and screeching in your ears coming to a closing halt as you finally hear who is calling out for you.

“_____!”

nanami.

turning your head to the side slightly, you watch nanami sprint towards you, the fastest you have ever seen him go, stopping a few metres away from you, weapon in hand ready to fight. you look back to your friend.

nanami stops, breathing steadily as he takes in his surroundings. he spares a glance at the body of your peer, now not even a body - just flesh waiting to be consumed by the birds of death, who clean away the morbid remains of the dead and let the cycle of life repeat itself.

the way she died, the way her body is, reminds nanami of-

he brushes such thoughts away quickly, focusing his intentions on you.

when ichiji had rushed up to him, stammering and panicking over two fairly new fourth grade students who have somehow accidentally been sent to a handle a first grade curse, nanami prepared for the worst.

and the worst it was.

you jump and twitch uncontrollably, not even acknowledging nanami’s presence. you gulp, mouth dry and lips cracked and sit on the ground, clothes now sure to be stained with soil and grass markings at the knees.

nanami approaches you carefully, not wanting to startle you when you are in a clear state of consternation and distress.

“_____,” he whispers, kneeling down beside you. he reaches out, wishing to examine you for injuries but you flinch wildly, yelping, almost falling over yourself.

“hey!” nanami stables your, putting both hands on your forearms, “it’s just me. nanami. your mentor.”

that seems to snap you out of your lost stupor a little. you blink at him.

he sees blood splattered on your face and doesn’t know if it’s yours or not. you don’t know either.

nanami takes the opportunity to scan your body for any serious injuries and comes up empty, only seeing your blood-coated uniform and hands. he finds your eyes, red and watery.

“are you alright?” he asks. he knows it’s a stupid, stupid question as soon as it leaves his mouth, but he’s not sure what to say at this moment, to someone who just watched their friend be killed by a monster right in front of their eyes.

heavy breathes leave your mouth along with incoherent mumbles, looking around almost frantically, you’re on the edge of hyperventilating before you find his kind eyes again.

you blubber, going to turn your head to your friend’s body. “she-she’s..she’s-” you gasp in crescendo, words unable to leave your mouth, still in shock.

nanami turns your head back to him delicately, “don’t look at her.” you don’t want to see that more than you have to, he knows that well enough.

nanami waits, letting you fumble and stutter and trip over your words, still holding your arms, before you’re falling forwards into his hold, crying and weeping into his blazer, screams muffled by the fabric which you will most definitely ruin.

nanami starts at the sudden action, shocked but at the same time, knows that your behaviour is not surprising.

he was prepared for dead bodies, blood baths, life-threatening, powerful curses that he had battled before.

but somehow, nanami was not prepared for this. to comfort a person who has just lost their friend in a slaughter.

you head lay solid on his chest, wetting his clothes, but he doesn’t even bring himself to care about that. nanami envelops you in his arms, pulling you closer, cradling the back of your head as he holds you to his chest. the soft gesture simply makes you sob harder, wrapping your arms tighter around his waist as he rocks you gently.

“it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s over now.” the words tumble out of his mouth, like he knows what to say in this situation, like he’s being the person that he himself needed. “shh, shhhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

the sky is inked with marigolds, the tender, honey colours of the clouds and sun shine a contrast in the mood and what you have just experienced.

blood glitters on the grass and flowers, shiny and slick.

you and nanami stay there just like that for a long while. long enough to where you bawls, screeches and grieves turning into sniffles, whimpers and hiccups.

nanami moved back a short distance, still holding you. “we need to leave, now.” he states. he inspects your face and body once more, “can you stand?”

you don’t respond for a few moments and nanami is patient. with a weak nod from you, nanami begins to rise from his kneeling position, clasping your hands in his own as he helps you to your feet. your legs are shaky, unsteady like a new-born lamb.

he supposed that’s what you are in a world like this. a lamb who had no idea what they were walking into.

you stumble a little and nanami holds your hands tighter.

licking your lips, you glimpse behind you, back to the deceased. “wh..what about h…her?”

“…someone will come to get her.” there’s no gentler way nanami can put that.

you hum and nod again.

arms crossed and still quivering in your bones, you blink away tears. you just want to go home.

then, nanami is shrugging off his suit jacket, and placing it around your shoulders, the size of it dwarfing you, the fabric warm and comforting, protecting you from the harshness of the world and reminding you of the protector that nanami is.

he wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding your forward and away from the bloodbath.

footprints of vermillion are left in your wake.

the journey back is quiet.

when arriving at the car, ichiji goes to say something, but is silenced with a quick glare from nanami.

nanami opens the door for you, helping your inside and sits in the back with you. he puts your seatbelt on, securing it around your body before doing his own.

you’re looking down, at your hands that are dry and splotched red, occasionally snivelling and breath hitching. you felt cold for some reason, even in nanami’s jacket and the summer heat your leg bounces continuously.

as nanami looks at you in the corner of his eye, an unconscious but truthful thought floods nanami’s mind.

even after all these years, after all his time away from jujutsu society and slaving away in the grand rat race, one thing has always been clear.

nothing will ever change. and nothing he does will change anything in the grand scheme of things. he could dedicate his whole entire life to serving jujutsu and it wouldn’t even crack a dent in the system.

haibara’s smiling face and bronze, crinkled eyes come to mind. then follows, the reminder of his untimely, brutal death, how he died because of a mistake an adult who should have known better made, how his death meant nothing then and means nothing now, how his bloody torso was all that remained of him and how he lives on only in nanami’s memories.

nanami groans.

why did i even come back here?

he hears you sniffle and clear your throat. you let out a breath and he looks down at you. you’re still staring ahead, but he can tell you’re about to say something.

“will…will i..be in trouble?” you croak out, a small sob escaping your mouth. “i..i did everything, i-” more cries interrupt your sentence, images of minced, pink flesh coming to mind once again, and you cover your face, gasping as your shoulders shake.

nanami is reminded of your youth, your inexperience and desire to please the adults around you with that question alone. you, who just witnessed the death of a friend, are afraid of disappointing an adult who you probably do not even know of.

his heart beats a little faster and he exhales a little, not angry at you, but at the inevitable circumstances that this “job” has on one so young and, for lack of a better word, innocent.

“_____,” he sighs, quite a sad sound. he removes his goggles and leans down a little to get a look at your face. you continue to cry. “look at me, please.”

you whimper and do as he says, your face clearly hot, eyes drowned in tears, the skin around them matted with wetness, and nose running and sniffling. your eyes had a far away, distanced look, one of devastation, destroyed childhood dreams and a permanently changed life.

“you are not in any trouble, _____” he tells you, his brown eyes filled with sympathy, reassurance and another trait that you cannot quite place. “and you will not be in any trouble. i won’t let that happen.”

you hum sadly in response, closing your eyes and shaking your head as a few more tears fall from your eyes.

nanami cups your face with one broad, gentle hand, catching one of your tears with his thumb and erasing it into the soft skin of your cheek. he caresses your shoulder with the other. “i won’t…” he trails off, speaking more to himself than anybody else.

choking on a cry, you shuffle closer to him, resting your head on his chest, ruining his blue shirt even more. he doesn’t hesitate to hold you in his arms, something that seems so natural and familiar to him.

nanami thinks this is so unlike him, to comfort a student so closely, but he does not stop. you need this. it reminds him of why he took this job in the first place and why he left and why he came back once again.

why he keeps going, going, going when he is more than able to just stop.

“i won’t…”

next week, you are appointed to third grade sorcerer level and your eyes are blank and your heart is empty.

a/n: this turned out darker than i expected tbh lmao 😕😕😕

#nanami x reader #nanami angst #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami x gender neutral reader #nanami x gn reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento angst #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami angst

301 notes · View notes

kairiscorner · 6 months

Text

“promise me you won't change. — kento nanami x reader”

summary: after catching up with you, 10 years after you two first met, nanami feels all weirdly sentimental and... he wishes you can stay as happy as you are, now, even if he isn't the reason why you stayed as amazing, as friendly and optimistic as you were back then in high school. word count: 2,008 (i got carried away) genre: angst.

he stares into his glass full of sake, the ripples in the drink fanning out as he does nothing but hold the drink. he doesn't feel thirsty, but his mouth is dry; he hasn't felt this way in a while, at least not this strongly. you look over at him and scoot a little closer. "hey, you okay, nanami?" you ask him, hoping he didn't feel too sleepy that he can't go home on his own. his eyelids are hooded and slowly blinks, though he doesn't look drunk, in fact, he hasn't even drank the sake—he's just... kind of out of it. you have no idea what nanami's been up to for the past 10 years, and uncharacteristically of you, you don't ask him right away. you hesitate and drift the conversation to small talk, which you're very aware he still hates.

he's always been the reserved fellow, he'd answer you in a blunt, straightforward way, he would spare as much details about himself as he could, which made it all the more harder for you to connect with him. nanami's golden brown eyes shifted to see you staring at him, with him raising his eyebrows and exhaling as he leaned back on the couch. "...i'm fine." he mumbles out as he lifts the glass to his thin lips.

he looks like a corpse, a ghost even—he's alive, but he's not... living.

you couldn't feel any more pity for him, though you felt guilty for feeling that way because, what did you know about him? you re-enter his life by accident 10 years after high school, and all of a sudden, you seem to care about him enough to take him to a local bar and hope he drinks at least so you don't feel any more crappy about the awkward situation you two are in tonight. you nod without even looking at him and down your drink, sighing as you drank it all in one gulp, wiping away the drops of your drink that was left on your lips. you call for a waiter to get you two more drinks, while nanami ends up staring at you now, and takes in all that'd changed about you. you looked more mature, that was a given; it seemed adulthood didn't plague you as much as it did for him, it was a miracle you even recognized him when you encountered him at that bakery one day. it was his haircut that made you recognize him, strangely enough; the 7:3 ratio was distinguishable in your eyes no matter how nanami styled it.

nanami broke the silence that lingered for a few minutes after the waiter got you two more drinks. "why did you... invite me out tonight?" he asked you with a fatigue in his tone, he was undoubtedly tired from nearly everything, everything, it seemed, except for you. he didn't feel as forced to go with you, it felt like a splash of cool water was thrown in his face when you pulled him out of his daily routine and offered to catch up with him over some drinks at a local bar.

you let out a soft sigh as you lower your glass and looked at him with a gentle smile on your bright face. nanami could never forget that smile, it stuck with him and was buried deep in the recesses of the back of his mind ever since those 10 years had passed—you shone the whole room with that smile, it was contagious; and nanami felt his face getting warmer, not because of the sting of the alcohol, but because of how genuine you seemed to him. "to be honest... i haven't the slightest clue either why i invited you." you admitted shyly, chuckling lowly to yourself as you shook your glass in a circular motion, laughing a little at the irony of it all.

"i guess... i just wanted to see how much things have changed." you uttered softly, and those words struck chords in nanami's heart; chords that played a familiar melody that resounded back to his adolescence with you, one of the only people who really made his time in high school worthwhile and less like hell. "and i can tell, you haven't changed, nanamin. yeah you, uh... kinda look like you could be a dad or someone's uncle now, but... you're still the same kento nanami i knew from high school; the same serious, stern boy who struggled having fun and had a thing for bread. i'm glad you're still you, nanamin; but you're... kinda refined now. is that weird to say?" you ask him, chuckling as the drunkenness settles in, with you taking another sip from your drink as nanami feels his cheeks flush at your words.

you don't even notice his blush, and even if you did, you'd've brushed it off as a flush of drunkenness—but it's not.

nanami leans forward a little and folds his arms over the table, ignoring the weird stickiness of it and brings his small brown eyes up to look at you, who's been staring at him the whole time in a slight, drunk daze.

"...i'm glad you didn't change, either." he mumbles, slowly rubbing at his eyes after he said that, sighing deeply. why did he say that? who was he to say that? after years of not reaching out to you, sweeping under the rug the fact you two were friends, very close friends in fact—forgetting your name sometimes when you both swore to each other to come through for the other if either of you were ever in trouble...

...it probably was to be expected, adolescents never know what real trouble is in the adult world; the awful mundanity of every day life was a subtle trouble that became permanent, with neither of you being able to save the other from it, or the traumas of what transpired in your high school years.

you laughed aloud and set you drink down, oh that laugh of yours... nanami could listen to you laugh all day and night, and he'd never get sick of it—he'd only wanna make you laugh even more, even if it was the stupidest thing to ever laugh at for someone in the right state of mind.

"you're glad i'm still sweet and naive?" you jokingly asked him with a snicker, emptying out your glass as nanami shook his head, maintaining eye contact with you. "not that... i mean... you're still so bright. so eager, so friendly. you're still you." he muttered, feeling a weird heaviness plaguing his heart. it wasn't a curse grabbing onto his chest right now, it was more like an intangible one, a purely emotional one that was his alone—it was a melancholic longing for someone who was right in front of him, you.

"you're... still the person i love. and i wish... you won't ever get hurt again, even if... i can't save you all the time. i want to, though, but..." he mumbled out, with you not hearing since you were already getting a lot more drunk. nanami didn't hope for you to hear it, at least partially—if anything... he hopes you wouldn't change, but not because he confided in your drunk self that he's still in love with you, his closest friend and ally that he regrets never meeting up with, wasting those 10 years without you in his life.

as you call for a waiter to come over and refill your glass, nanami takes your glass away from you, much to your disdain, pays the bill, and helps you up carefully as he takes you out of the bar, calling a cab for the two of you so he could help take you and your drunken self home.

during the cab ride, nanami made sure to keep you warm, to let you rest against him to feel comfortable, and to hold you a little whenever the cab drove over a pothole. he looked at you with such soft eyes as you dozed off, with him brushing the hair away from your face, berating himself for taking this long to see you again when you... you had the courage to talk to him, after all this time.

"...i have the feeling that saving you once won't make up for the 10 years i've spent without you. i want... to be yours." he whispered as he adjusted his coat on you, making up in his mind that he's letting you keep it, no questions asked. nanami managed to get you to your home, he paid attention when you told him where you lived by, should he ever visit you, as you put it. nanami would love to visit you, but... he's scared. he's scared that his first visit may be his last; and that might be too pessimistic of him, but realistically speaking, now that he's revisiting the world of jujutsu sorcery and has a new responsibility over the students at jujutsu high...

...it's not far off that he might never be able to visit you again, that tonight might be your last night together—nobody knows.

you drunkenly told nanami where you kept your spare key, after almost half an hour of you telling him he looks like he skipped 20 years of his life over those 10 years of you two not meeting. nanami sat you down on the couch and made sure you were comfy; surely, you could take care of yourself in the morning. nanami didn't need to overstep any boundaries here—entering your apartment while you were drunk, even to help you in, was already too much in his opinion; he didn't want to invade any more of your privacy.

"wait... aren't you... gonna say good bye?" you mumbled out in a slurred voice, calling out to nanami before he closed the door to your apartment to lock it from the outside, uncertain if he'll ever come back again. his brown eyes dart over to you, stirring over by the couch, groaning and grumbling for him to bid you goodbye. you were always like that, asking him for a farewell every time before you two parted—another thing he regret not giving you before 10 years had passed without ever seeing you until now.

he clutched the doorknob tightly, not wanting to say goodbye; but he owed you this much, more, even. "...good bye." he uttered, as if he felt cuts all over his body when he muttered those two words. you giggled and waved your hand at him with a lopsided grin on your face, telling him, "bye-bye!" as he closed the door and locked it, putting your spare key back where it was.

nanami inhaled the cold evening air and walked down the stairs of your apartment, despite every voice in his mind urging him to go back and to keep you company for the night—to stay with you until morning, care for you if you're hungover, and tell you when you're sober, when you can remember everything, that he loves you.

...but even if he loves you, he can't stay.

he is the same, the same kento nanami; he, who never stayed.

he, who could never stay.

he, who loves you dearly, but can never stay long enough to let you know that.

he, who could never live with himself if you got attached to him again... only to lose him once more, permanently.

if he could at least have things in his life go the way he wants it, for once... he hopes that if he leaves again, permanently or not... you'll live your life in peace, even without him.

"forget me, and be happy... the two things in life i ask for, and won't ever ask for anything more." he mutters to himself as a single tear rolled down his chiseled cheek, and fell down on the ground beneath his feet; a memento of him, which like him... would never be able to stay.

🍞 tags !! @rohansdisciple @meeom @patchi-chi

199 notes · View notes

pseudowho · 2 months

Text

When Nanami Kento was just a little boy, his mother, father, and Danish grandfather took him on holiday.

It was hot, and sunny, and Kento pretended he was exploring the jungle in the depths of darkest Peru, in his shorts and little sunhat. He hunted for leopards, and other wild beasts of great renown.

The days were long and full of laughter; he threw his shoes off up the sand to splash in the water, flicking it at his chuckling grandfather with tiny hands and feet.

"I shall retire here!" His grandfather warned, in Danish, "And then, at whom shall you flick water, hmm?"

His mother took him shopping at the little market; dinner was plenty of seafood, piping hot on the sandy hearth of their little cabin. His father read him long stories, with all the voices, and Kento always begging for another chapter, just one more before bed.

When little Kento thought nobody was looking, he would spin where the waves lapped the shore, with his arms thrown wide and his eyes squeezed shut and his head tipped back, breathing deeply of the salt and the sun and the dizzy dizzy dizzy.

He remembered this place, always, when his childhood was stolen away just a few short years after. Most of all, in his final moments, he remembered the sunsaltsea euphoria, the bliss of sandy-toed bedtimes, the soft embrace of old yellow pages.

He could almost taste it, just on the tip of his to--

#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #nanami fluff #jujustu kaisen #nanami headcanons #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento fluff #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento angst #kento nanami angst #nanami angst #kento nanami fluff

543 notes · View notes

gojonanami · 5 months

Text

ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD - NANAMI KENTO

✴︎ summary: aka nanami is totally fine and alive. after shibuya, nanami lets you tend to his burns and have an honest discussion about what happened there and what it means for your future. ✴︎ contents: hurt/comfort, fluff, spoilers/discussions of what happens to nanami in shibuya, and of course he survives, he's fine (copium), nanami being a girl dad (b/c you know he would be the best dad - i mean he is already). ✴︎ wc: 1,469

Refusals came first when it came to Kento.

“Ieiri can take care of it—”

Especially when it came to taking care of him.

“But I want to, Kento,” you say softly, burn kit prepared by you and Ieiri in hand, your fingers curling tighter around the handle, “I don’t want to push you to do something you’re uncomfortable with, but I want to help,” for all of the times that you couldn’t.

It has been a month since Shibuya. A month since Gojo had been sealed. A month since all hell had broken loose.

How has it only been a month?

And it had been only two weeks since Kento had been allowed home, to rest, allowed to be extracted from Shibuya from Shoko’s treatment area. His eye was unsalvageable — destroyed in that octopus special grade’s domain, and his body — burned severely by that volcano special grade. He would have to wear an eyepatch for the rest of his life. And reverse cursed technique only did so much, but they couldn’t heal burn marks.

Half of his body is wrapped in bandages — if you hadn’t been lucky enough to get Kento out of that situation with the curse you now knew as Mahito — you don’t know what could have happened.

You were lucky. Lucky to have found him after being split off. Lucky you knew how to get to Shoko quickly. Lucky that she was able to save him.

Luck. Luck. Luck.

Was this really luck? To make it out half burned and half alive? Was it luck that you saved him or would it have been kinder to leave him? But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You were selfish — you needed him, you wanted your future with him, you wanted him to live.

You couldn’t let him go. Not yet.

It wasn’t time. It wasn’t his time.

He only sighs at your words, “Okay,” he relents, sitting up on the bed.

“First we have to remove your bandages, and then I’m going to inspect the burns to make sure they haven’t been infected or—”

“You don’t have to tell me everything, sweetheart, I know what you have to do,” he says softly, and you swallow thickly, nodding.

Your fingers are gentle as you undo the bandages, first starting with his hand and arm, before moving to his shoulder, and then finally his face. Nasty raised burns marred his skin, raised and ruined marks that clawed over his smooth flesh. The marks ravaged half of his body — the other half he was barely able to protect with cursed energy.

You hid your frown as you looked at them — why was it him? That question kept replaying in your mind. It was pointless to ask. It was asking why tragedy struck one person rather than another — it was chance, it was happenstance, it was fate.

But you wished fate had chosen another — hell, you wished fate had chosen you.

Your hands are washed and gloved as you examine him for any signs of infection — discharge, abnormal discoloration, and the last sign — warmth, “I’m going to just check some areas of your skin for any warmth — okay?” and Kento nods, his gaze downward. Your fingers are gentle — a featherlight touch as you check, fingers tracing his hand and up his arm, across his shoulder blade and back, until you reach his neck and face. Your fingers end up caressing his face, cupping it as you stare at him.

He’s so beautiful.

Each scar is a reminder of how hard he fought — even against monsters beyond any of any sorcerer’s imaginations, defended his comrades, protected students, and somehow had never given up. Even when it would have been understandable to do so. He still stood on his two feet, unwavering in his determination to live — and it wasn’t even for himself. Sorcery was an individual sport, sure, but sorcerers pass the baton all the time, and they choose to fight for one another, as well as themselves — if only to make the next fight easier for their fellow sorcerers. And you knew he was fighting, fighting to come home to you.

How did you ever get so lucky?

“I understand,” Kento says, drawing you from your reverie, “I understand if you feel differently about my appearance — it will be harder for me to be mobile, the burns could constrict me and my eye as well. I understand even, even if it changes how you feel,” his tone was forced evenness, but he couldn’t hide the slight waver from you — Kento only ever wavered when it came to himself.

You pause for a moment, “It does change how I feel,” and his eye slides to meet yours, hardened and accepting, “it makes me only love you more,” and Kento blinks, ocean blues filled with water, “Kento, these scars, your injuries, they show how much you fought to come back to me — how much you fought to protect our students — how much you sacrificed just to keep fighting,” your voice cracks, “how could I ever see you as less than for that? I love you so much, Kento — I just wish I could have done more for you,”

His fingers find yours, curling around them, “Done more? You saved my life—”

“Did you want to be saved?” and your question makes him pause, and your words tumble out of you, a confession you never wanted to make, “Yuji heard you — heard you say how tired you were — asking yourself if you’ve done enough, did I just put you in more pain by making you stay—”

And he’s covering your mouth gently with his palm, making you stop, your tears streaming across his knuckles as you cried, “I never wanted to stop fighting to come home to you. I’m grateful you saved me,” he said softly, “every moment of pain is worth it, worth it because I get to be here with you. I get to have more time with you, with Itadori, with Ino, with everyone else,” he gives a terse chuckle, “I am tired, tired of jujutsu, tired of risking my life, tired of seeing those I love risk my life — but I came back for a reason, and I came back for you,” his lips curl into a smile, “and you, I could never be tired of.”

You can’t stop crying now, tears falling from your eyes, as you wipe them, “I’m going to have to change my gloves now,” and he laughs, pressing a kiss to your gloved hand.

“Change them, I’ll be here,” and you have to hold yourself back from hugging him — you need to put his ointments and lotions on and then bandage him up, and then — then you could hug him. But for now you settled with pressing a kiss to his cheek, and then cupping it.

“I love you,” and you didn’t know, but he knew, he knew then, more than ever, that he wanted to marry you. And he would ask — but not now.

So he smiles instead, “I know, I love you too.”

“We’re going to be late!” you wait outside, arms crossed, “Kento?”

“Don’t worry, we’re here,” and he’s stepping out, daughter in his arms, as you raise an eyebrow, “Mio wanted me to carry her.”

“You’re going to spoil her rotten,” you roll your eyes, walking over to your husband and one year old daughter, “she’s going to be daddy’s little princess at this rate — aren’t you, baby?” you kiss her cheek, as Kento watches you.

“Like mother, like daughter,” and you gape at him, as his lips curl, as he carries his daughter to the car to strap her into her carseat, “are you coming?”

You step over to the car, standing as he finishes buckling Mio in, and he turns to face you — the scars on his body remained, but healing with each day — his other eye hidden away under an eyepatch, but he still looked just as handsome the day you met him at Jujutsu High for the first time, if not more so (it was definitely more so, you often teased him, that emo haircut was definitely not attractive).

“Sweethe—” he raises an eyebrow, before you lean up to kiss him, wrapping his arms around his neck, and he melts into the kiss, brow furrowed as you pull away, “what was that for?”

And you shrug, “Just because, now come on,” you climb into the seat beside your daughter.

“If we’re late for this meeting at Jujutsu Tech, it will be because of your kiss,” he warns, catching your eye with a smile in the rearview mirror as he starts the car.

You only grin back, as your fingers find Mio’s tiny ones, “Don’t worry, we have time.”

And you did — you had all the time in the world.

✴︎ a/n: so this is some hardcore copium that @laneysmusings claimed i owed after the five times nanami fic. and who am i to deny? but also nanami is fineeeee. just a little scratch.

✴︎ tag list: @ghost-with-a-teacup, @itsseaberri, @himboelover, @sampam0260, @tiredkitten, @angelltheninth, @kateshappyplants, @neon-crow, @akaashi-todorki, @juniperjunpei, @what-the-stories-have-foretold, @purplecandygerl, @trenchcoat-idiots, @crimsonstarrr, @tirouxdreemurr, @dazaifungus, @the-apple-rose, @just1nee, @weirdanddorkyrambling, @goatlings-world

#sab [mlist]#kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami kento x you #nanami fanfiction #kento nanami x y/n #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento nanami fluff #kento nanami angst

2K notes · View notes

tootiecakes234 · 5 months

Text

Warning: angst

“Kento?! Kento where are you!?”

You were walking around your house looking for your husband. He’d left you in bed maybe an hour ago and you already missed him.

“In here darling”, you heard his smooth voice coming from his office.

“Oh here you are. Are you busy? I miss you.” You say with a small pout on your lips.

“I was actually just looking at our wedding pictures.” You walk around behind his chair and peek at the pictures he’s going through.

Kento had actually had the pictures printed off and he’d sorted them in a scrapbook. He gave it to you for you one year wedding anniversary. That was almost 2 years ago now.

“You looked perfect coming down that aisle my love.” He spins around in her chair to look at you, “and you’ve looked perfect everyday since.

“Ever the smooth talker Ken.” You say it sarcastically but you are swooning on the inside.

He pulls you by the waist so you’re sitting in his lap.

“Was the best day of my whole life. I’d marry you all over again if I could”, you whisper it into his neck where you’ve nuzzled yourself with your arms wrapped around his neck.

“I would too my sweet but we can’t go back now can we? “

You didn’t answer because oh how you wish you could go back. Go back and change everything.

“You’ve got to start living again my love. Moving forward. It’s been months.”

“I- I can’t Kento… I’m trying and I can’t do it.” The tears had started falling, like they always do when he says anything about you letting him go. “Why’d you leave me that night? I as-asked you to stay. I told you something felt off. You left me and you never came back. You promised you’d always come back to me.

He was running his hands up and down your back, trying to comfort you.

“I know and I’m so sorry Y/N. It’s the only promise I made you that I couldn’t keep. I never meant for you to hurt like this.”

He feels so real… smells and sounds so real.

“Come back to me. Please… please… plea-…….”

You were startled awake. Finding yourself again on his side of bed with his pillow soaked through with tears.

5 months… it’s been 5 months since Shibuya, but it felt like it was yesterday. The way your heart ached for him.

Most nights you dream of him and recently every time, he’s telling you to move on. To start living your life again….. but how are you supposed to do that when he took your beating heart to the grave with him…

#imagine #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento x you #jjk kento #nanami kento #kento nanami #kento x reader #kento nanami angst #jjk angst #jjk #jjk writing #kento Nanami drabble

117 notes · View notes

thoughtssvt · 3 months

Text

so deep in my core i need to write this angst piece.

walk with me

it's 2007 the end of august

nanami is in the process of moving out when he meets gojo face to face for the first time since haibara died.

"nanami, listen," he starts, elongating each vowel as he searches for typical phrases to tell someone who's mourning. he hopes that nanami will understand what he's trying to say and just nod and wave off the awkward sorrow because what do you say?

but nanami ignores him completely. his face is neutral save for his tightly knitted ashen brows. his pace picks up enough for gojo's bangs to tickle his forehead with the wind.

"nanami, wait," he finds himself calling out for him before he can decide against it, a hand gripping nanami's arm. "i'm... i'm trying to say that i'm sorry about what happened to hai-"

"don't say his name." it's cold and foreign. nanami's always been the type to listen to every single word he said despite the irritation it brought.

nanami's name slips off gojo's tongue because this is one of the very few times he's left speechless. what else could he say?

"if you were sorry then you wouldn't be here right now, would you?" nanami turns to him, filling the dead air before gojo could even attempt another word. "you'd be out there, taking all the missions because you're gojo satoru." if nanami's head was a little clearer he'd have bit his tongue, he'd have known this was unreasonable. "every second you're here— doing what? looking to annoy someone for shits and giggles?— another one of us human beings are killed."

one of us human beings

"that's not fair..." gojo whispers.

"it's not fair?" nanami tests on his tongue. "it's not fair?!" he growls, snapping his lips shut to conceal the seething hum that rumbles through his chest, heavy huffs leaving his nose.

"satoru," at the call of his name gojo's hand drops from nanami's arm. "leave him be," suguru urges, calm and steady with a slight edge that carried a serious tone.

but satoru didn't want to leave it like this. he was sorry, he really was. he's... he's a human being, too.

"nanami, i can't be everywhere at once—" before he could finish there was a fist floating right in front of his face. nanami's arm is shaking with rage as it stays in place.

gojo's gaze shift from the fist to nanami's face. his eyes had grown dark, vein popping out of his forehead camouflaged by every wrinkle of pain that contorted his face.

nanami sucked in a breath before winding his hand back again only to be stopped just inches before gojo's face. he tries again. again and again. each attempt picking up speed against the double-paned glass. low, frustrated grunts bouncing off the hallway walls, a sniffle here and there until it's all reduced to shoulder shaking sobs.

"it's not fair," nanami chokes out.

A/N: AAAA i need to write it. right? right? AAAA okay thank you for reading my snippet. i needed to get it out

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami kento angst #kento nanami angst #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo satoru angst #satoru gojo angst #jjk gojo #gojo jjk #jjk nanami #nanami jjk

120 notes · View notes

ay0nha · 4 months

Note

hello :3

i can't stop thinking about nanami being readers biggest cheerleader but on the down low...imagine that reader is outspoken and always gets introuble and because she's a girl is never taken seriously so she gets into trouble for something big and is now "shadowing" nanami to know how to be a "proper" sorcerer !!!! but nanami is pining for reader and does everything to make her "punishment" bearable...can be smut if you're comfortable! but either way I love your writing and what you can do! hope you read this!!!

uwu thank youxxx

PAIRING: Nanami Kento x f!reader (sorcerer)

WORD COUNT: 3K~

WARNINGS: angst, canon-typical things, mentions of blood, death, injury, etc, innuendos, blink and you'll miss the slight fluff, rushed ending, hope it isn't confusing, etc.

A/N: I ADORE this ask!! I got a little more angsty than I thought with it and @hatsunemitskislobotomy and I have talked LONG about the entire world that could be created around this idea. SO, I think I'm going to make a second part to this (maybe three parts total? we'll see). Thank YOU for your patience. Enjoy.

“Answer the question.”

The brief and concise statement thrown at you mimicked the ones prior. Your reluctance to answer was anticipated; everyone seated before the Jujutsu higher–ups reacted similarly. But the jury surrounding you didn’t have the same empathy for you.

“The answer is obvious, isn’t it?” You were oddly relaxed in the stiff wooden seat. The eyes on you hadn’t made you nervous but instead energized your subtle rage. “Or is our system that dull? Have you truly failed to see who is behind this?”

“Be mindful; your responses have repercussions.” The Jujutsu Commander warned. His position saved you from a scornful vote against your innocence. Yet, those who looked on weren’t too far off. “Were you or were you not responsible for what happened at the Kokuritsu Kokkai Toshokan?”

The framing of your trial was spectacular. All evidence was vindictive, and the story was so perfectly skewed there was no way to worm your way out. Your fate was already sealed.

“You lot ask the wrong questions.” Your laugh was bitter.

“Your admission. Only.” His patience was running thin, his politeness only formality as his tone opposed it entirely.

The truth was a volatile thing. Children were taught that it was essential in life, valued so highly that corrupt justice could manipulate it so finely that you almost believed it yourself.

Lying, therefore, became a habit. It came naturally as if it was second-hand nature.

The twitch of your lip was poisonous. “Guilty.”

The others murmured at your feigned candor. The whispers were silly, as anonymity never existed for those behind the walls. Every face was bared, burned into your memory by resentment.

—

Your wrists itched.

It was as if phantom threads tethered you down. When the knots tightened due to your resistance, you became a marionette for those who put you in your place. You’d move with dexterity as a puppet controlled by those ranked above you.

Your exhaustion created a silly—delusional— image. Your cheeks were rosy with red paint, and your eyes brightened with Pierrot-styled tears. You performed on a stage silently, an alienated observer of the mysteries and shadows of sorcery.

You took on a second life, reciting an alert, troubled, swaying, and deliberately uncertain verse. It didn’t matter if the audience understood; they considered what you said genuine art. Then, when it all ended, the standing ovation wouldn’t bring you joy but the flowers that waited for you.

It wasn’t until the third time your name was called that you acknowledged its source.

“What do you see?” Nanami’s tone was sterile, but you knew he was fighting frustration at your languidity.

The stone walls were icy, and the lack of sunlight within the church nurtured the cold. Nature started reclaiming every pew, and the stained glass became disfigured. Its evidence of abandonment seemed uneventful—normal.

“Graffiti.” Your response was dull.

Effort was a comical notion.

Sorcery required it at times, just as breathing did. The effort now felt good, worth it. The icy air that reached the ends of your lungs stung. Yet, each breath was quieter, the effort only coming in the form of physical mechanics of pushing a warm breath back out that the air around you marked.

Although studied meticulously, its real trait was its vitality. It shifted and molded. Evolved. It made even more concrete things seem like rubber, rejecting electricity with an uncanny ability to mold into shapes unknown. It was the type of thing that could be so exciting to happen just to become something so vague that it no longer held value to it.

You felt childish, undermined really, but you knew Nanami was following orders. Yet, your core frustration came from being in the countryside. The higher-ups slowly pushed you out of the city with each mission you were attached to.

Away from real problems, you were no longer deemed theirs. That distance kept you busy with the unwanted chores of dealing with low-grade curses who were scared of their own shadows.

“No.” Another wrong answer. “Look closer.” Nanami urged you, hands tucked away and nodding ahead. “The carvings are in a pattern. Do you recognize it?”

It was an ancient incantation, one that’s effectiveness lessened by time. Most charms were for protective measures, but the spiraled swirl of lettering was fresh. You traced your fingers across the symbols, feeling their lingering heat, only freshly scorched.

“Cursed user?” Your breath was just shy of being transcribable in the air.

The temperature was dropping by the second. Something dense settled on your skin in warning. The cursed energy came from multiple points, not able to find a convergence point. Instead, its disharmony grated against itself, creating such a pressure its purpose became overt.

In hushed tones, you were careful with your words. “Something is trying to get out.”

“Precisely.” Nanami’s voice echoed lightly, as did his footsteps. “It has been entirely overlooked…” He explained leading you to the heart of the church. “...I’ve been monitoring this place for months—

“So this is where you disappear to?” You bubbled, Nanami unintentionally drawing a smile out of you. Your laughter started to grow gently. “…and here I thought someone—a man like you, of your stature, would have—well, you know.”

“I don’t follow,” Nanami answered absentmindedly. His focus was still set on following the etchings and hoping to find any residuals.

“You value your privacy,” You weighed earnestly. “I don’t blame you for handling your more intimate business away from, well, everything else.”

Nanami paused.

After a few heartbeats of hesitation, he caught onto your implications. There was no reply save for a subtle re-texturing of his breath, the gap between inhalations infinitesimally smaller, the length of his exhalations protracted.

It was nearly imperceptible as Nanami fought to smother it. It may have gone unnoticed, mistaken for concentration. However, to an experienced eye, you watched your words ripple an ever still puddle of emotions.

With a gentle clear of his throat, Nanami quelled your suspicions. “You’re the only other that knows this exists.”

“Not even those old conservatives?” You were impressed by his discretion. “Breaking the rules for me, Kento?”

It was as if you knew how your words tickled Nanami’s sides. They taunted him with childhood memories that made the tips of his ears heat. However, your words cemented that you siphoned your humor through affection.

Nanami remained practical; any endearment had to be taken at face value.

“Our visit is to resolve this before they find out.” He ignored you, reaching for his blunt blade. “Now, stand back.”

Cursed energy fluidly surrounded his stature as he conjured his technique.

With sharpened eyes, you took Nanami’s presence in. The suit he wore was filled well. Even late into the evening, he was always so poised. Professional. It worked silently, exuding from his presence alone. That magnetism couldn’t be credited to sorcery but to how he evolved, becoming pointed and moving without fault.

It channeled well into his movements; the swipe of his blade was swift in finding the wall’s weak point. Everything was so well calculated, Nanami remained standing, untouched by the debris that floated around you.

“Stay close,” He instructed, knowing curses fed off the unanticipated. “Please understand this is for information only.”

Very little light penetrated the swamp of shadows. That gleam revealed etchings of connected hands. They were conjoined by a thin tongue of brilliant flame that wound its way around the hands like a red-hot wire.

You stepped carefully, tracing the path Nanami created for you. He mumbled warnings that always came with the unknown, but his voice slowly warbled into a tune you could barely make out. The walls seemed to pull you in, their dissonance filling your senses.

“It’s warm…” You noted, the oddity furthering your curiosity. Your fingertips burned against the markings. “It’s like the cursed energy is…is it? It’s–It’s moving.”

“It’s growing.” Nanami stated. There was a feeling of regret bubbling behind his words, as if reprimanding himself for thinking aloud. “These confinements can no longer hold it.”

The continued touch burned.

You flinched, drawing your hand to your chest. The walls were upset by the action, groaning with age and anger. It was sharp and tonal, lacking an echo, its mournful cry resonating with despair.

“Do you hear that?” Your question dissipated lamely. Although words were spoken, the sounds around you overlapped. It created a deep and thunderous sense of urgency.

The noise was luring you into a past that never was. This was the moment before a ship could crash onto the rocks. Your arms felt like lead, weighing down with poisonous consequences.

The cursed energy pressed into your abdomen from all directions; the air was pushed from your lungs, your rib cage about to crack; your eyes felt forced back into your head; your eardrums swelled pounding within your skull, and then with a crack like a whip you—

“Are you alright?” Nanami watched you return to yourself. He called for you, but you were lost under the curse’s lure. It wasn’t until he reached for your palm that you sucked in air. “What do you hear?”

You felt a needle of pain in your nose like you were near tears. “It’s—crying.”

The missions on the outskirts were always more condensed. The fresh air was too pure for the deadlier cursed spirits. Their strength had little to latch onto without a dense population to feed on.

This, however, deviated at the core. It was a mistake that relied on the distance to stay hidden. It was an anomaly that should have never been touched. And yet, it found its new prey.

Nanami’s grip on you tightened with regret. “This was a mistake—

“No, wait…” Your brows furrowed as you pulled away. “There’s something in here,” You continued, hands reaching for the inner wall’s deterioration. The walls became silent, unwilling to guide you any further. “We need to exorcise this—

“This was to survey only.” Nanami checked his watch, the hands taunting the idea of overtime. A sinking feeling swirled in his chest. “Exorcising an unknown, most likely, unregistered curse is too unpredictable.”

A quick solution was never appealing when you were capable of unearthing hidden answers. That novelty fed your reputation of being offensively bold. Even now, as you moved through the unknown, you weren’t afraid of the repercussions.

Although you were still present, Nanami watched you flee. Your guard returned stronger, but he didn’t regret his words. Nanami’s eyes were pleading, and you went to chastise him, but you found something distinct there. You didn’t know what to do with it, but to muse a buried thought.

“Why did you bring me here?” The anger you carried felt foreign, rarely, if even, had you directed it towards your counterpart. “Pity? To make me feel better about being benched?”

“You know that’s not—

Years worth of vexation simmered on the surface of your skin. “Save your lecture.”

You weren’t lucky like the others. There wasn’t a defining moment that made you who you were, or something so tragic that its vengeance led to motivation. Your birth was uneventful, your existence logged by a series of numbers and your childhood consisting of mediocre memories.

Even now, the memory of arriving at Jujutsu Tech was muddled with an indifference put upon you. It wasn’t for a lack of enthusiasm, but for the way even there, with its rarity and quaintness, you were ignored so blatantly.

There was never any demureness in how you spoke out. You dissected the obvious flaws of the teachers and higher-ups, but your voice wasn’t considered the way others were. Your presence only became perceived insolence. You hadn’t cared about the threats offered, even when you were removed from the curriculum entirely.

The lack of lineage attached to your name and rare technique led to reprimands even in adulthood. Your presence with Nananmi was one of them.

Although not on an official mission, Nanami’s current company was obligatory. Where he went, you were required to shadow, to learn from your mistakes and behave like that of a true first-grade sorcerer.

After a so-called catastrophe, you were put before the higher-ups. Every grievance was brought forth and judgment determined you were unfit to even advocate for yourself. It was then, those imaginary-thin strings wound around your wrists with permanency.

You pulled at them the further you ignored Nanami’s warnings.

“This is why you brought me…” You reminded him of your punishment. For you, even this, was to keep an eye on you. “...isn’t it?”

With Nanami’s cemented frown, his intentions were further concealed. It didn’t have the capacity to speak of the trip’s impulsivity. It ignored the uncharacteristic apprehension that created knots between Nanami’s shoulder blades; new to the sorcerer celebrated for composure.

It was rash, but the innate desire clear; Nanami wanted to be behind your reprieve.

“There are rules and regulations. ” He swallowed any lingering remorse. “They don’t stop for you.”

He mistook his demeanor for bravery, but his true bravery formed by being across from you. The only barrier seemed to be Nanami’s incorruptible moral code, a space where you couldn’t quite freely exist.

“Nanami Kento, the reluctant hero…” You tutted with tender sarcasm. A hand rested above your heart, the same way the elderly read the headline that exploited your name, “...how kind of you to pity a recluse like me.…”

Your words carried back to Nanami’s core, becoming distant as you furthered into the mess he’d created. The darkness succumbed to your presence, your cursed energy steady as it unknowingly created space for the spirit that lurked.

Nanami’s lips shaped your name, but all you could hear was a mild ringing, a buzz. Your anger dissipated into a murky haze, the harder you blinked the more the argument dissipated. Even if you had held onto it, the lump in your throat wouldn’t allow it to exist.

The longer you lingered with the feeling, your surroundings slowly morphed.

All you could hear was your shaky breaths, and all you could see was a faint familiarity with your surroundings. Even your stumbling steps forward felt practiced.

“Keep up…” A disharmonious voice called for you. It was airy, like a child filled with excitement. “Hurry!”

The environment was damp, still reflecting the country’s dreariness. It was a good hiding place to play, to sneak, and for you to abuse. But the fog in your mind started to swirl. The colors became deeper, more like shadows that soon transformed into familiar figures.

The curse’s magnetism was a warning you ignored, causing your pupils to blow large at the burden before you.

The scene was explicit—nothing could be saved from the carnage.

There was no use in prayers. The gore set the air with dust that could never settle; a blood-warm heat had set into your marrow, never to be forgotten; it had been dragged to your doorstep like a cat bringing in fowl.

You recognized your own body from the anguish in your shoulders. Hunched over Nanami’s body as you held him tightly, that lump formed in your throat again.

The fabricated illusion scratched at subconscious emotions and controlled your movements. Your sentimentality was your weakness. Even your stubbornness couldn’t block the overwhelming flood of anxieties and longing.

You watched yourself stuck in a loop, hand rhythmically gliding across the fabric of his shirt in hopes of softening it. To revive something that was determined to remain still. Its structure was that of a fever dream, its kaleidoscope quality provoking you to interpret it.

“Nanami?” You couldn’t tell which version of you spoke. Regardless, his name was like torture. “Nanami—please.”

Your defenses damped, your cursed energy draining the further you succumbed to the hallucination.

“You can’t leave me—” The wails you let out grated against your skin, unrecognizable as your own. “I can’t do—please, Nanami!”

There was a disillusioned passion you felt. It grounded you within the false reality. Even if your mind wasn’t your own, your body moved with muscle memory. Your cursed energy crawled from your core to your fingertips, using the little amounts to start your technique.

The blue energy extended like nails. You stalked forward until they met your second-self’s back, piercing through your back until you could feel the breeze on the other side.

The puncture flashed an image, revealing the truth of your damage.

The spell you were under broke. The veil no longer misguided you.

“Nanami—” You cursed his name as he grunted in pain. Your hand was warm with his blood. “Fuck. Fuck—” The words tumbled from your quivering lip. You couldn’t think of anything else, repeating the curse. “I’m so sorry—I—

Guilt crawled up your throat when you recognized his hold on your wrist. Nanami’s grip was the only thing keeping your strike from being lethal. Your mouth was dry, shallow breaths passing your lips with a bargaining plea.

“No, no, no—” Your vocabulary became limited the further you panicked. “Nanami—

Nanami’s breath struggled, but there was determination on his brow. The copper taste took over his tongue, any warning could never make it out in time.

Your body froze, more aware of your surroundings than your mind. It happened too quickly to realize the position you put yourself in; in a flash, you pushed Nanami to endure the hit from the curse that had forced your hand.

The moment your head snapped back against the stone wall, everything went black.

60 notes · View notes