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softquietsteadylove · 22 days

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Hey could I ask for a Thenamesh human au were Thena is raising her little sisters (Sersi and Sprite) after their parents die and Gilgamesh is her co-worker who finds her having a mini breakdown and comforts her? Kinda slow burn-ish and no smut if possible

"Sorry!"

Thena pressed even harder on her eyebrows, sure she would get bruises from it. Maybe then she might actually get medical clearance for time off. "It's fine."

"I didn't mean-"

"It's fine!" she snapped at him again, shifting to swipe at the corners of her eyes and wipe the tears onto her fingertips and then on the sleeves of her cardigan. "I was just...looking for something."

But all she heard was the door shutting gently.

Thena sighed, picking her head up and looking around the shelves. All that was in here was extra paper and printer ink. "Gil, I'm fine."

Gil was sweet, if a little too sweet. He went out of his way for people, which their firm really discouraged. But he was going into family law, which was easy to tell from the 'everything' about him.

"Yeah, I just, uh," she heard him shuffle around before finally turning to glare at him. Her glower was usually strong enough to scare away anyone else. He pointed at the shelf of toner. "Printer."

She closed her eyes, feeling the throbbing in her head from her coffee and the twitch in her eyes from her need for sleep. But they had a lot of contracts to examine, and Sersi was in the middle of the soccer season, which meant she didn't even get home until 6, which pushed dinner to 7 and that said nothing about homework and getting Sprite to bed at a decent hour.

"Um," Gilgamesh gulped, tugging at the suit he was wearing. It was standard attire for the firm, of course, but she always imagined he had a hard time finding suits to really fit him. Perhaps he needed shirts and Jackets in one fitting and trousers in a smaller one. "How was Sersi's game?"

She whipped her head up at him, and she must have looked ready for murder by the way he flinched. "What?"

He went stiff as a board, practically pressing his back to the door. "S-Sersi--your sister, you said she had a soccer game on friday. H-How did it go...if that's okay."

Right, friday; she had rushed home from work, still with half a day's work to complete, picked up Sprite, gotten her not to gripe all through grocery shopping, bundled her up for Sersi's game, which was a loss, and it was a hard loss, and Sersi got a few scrapes and bruises, so then they were both a little cranky for the start of the weekend, and of course that meant she didn't actually get any work done-

"Thena?"

She blinked, feeling as if she had gone somewhere else entirely. This was getting ridiculous. She just needed coffee, she reasoned. Even more coffee. She shook her head.

"Hey," he whispered, not moving from the door to let her out, despite her moving closer. "Are you okay? I know you're...I know you've got a lot on your plate."

A lot on her plate? She had that already with this job and the beginnings of her career. Her student debt alone would be more than a full plate.

That was before handling a joint funeral, and counselling for her sisters, and getting them back to school, and a full year of them not being themselves. And then, when they finally seem to be getting better, both of them start having the worst time with school in their lives.

Or maybe their mother was just better at dealing with it than Thena could say for herself. And while their father wasn't exactly her favourite person, let alone parent, her first year of filing her taxes with two dependants was enough for her to look into a decent accountant for this year.

"Listen, I know you've got this under control," Gil continued, visibly worried about saying the wrong thing. "I know you're tougher than I could ever imagine."

She really didn't know about that.

"But if you need--I mean, if you ever want a hand with anything, or even just logistics, or carpooling or something," he suggested, losing confidence with every new idea. His massive shoulders drooped and he gave her those big, sad puppy dog eyes that always got him the best desk and the best cases and the best lunch, "just let me know, y'know?"

Thena gulped. Heat rose up in her as the horror of her tears resurfaced. She was done crying. It was the middle of the work day. She didn't have time for this. This had never been an issue before.

Can we have lasagne?

Just that simple text from Sprite had set her off. Because Sprite loved lasagne--she loved their mother's lasagne. And for an entire year Sprite couldn't even stand hearing the word, let alone the sight of it. And to have her ask for it, when they all knew that Thena was somehow the worst cook of all three of them.

Gil blinked as Thena dropped her head, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her hand over her eyebrows again. His hands hovered around her, never crossing the last few inches of boundary she held.

Thena was just as shocked as she leaned froward and her forehead met something firm. But she couldn't choke it all back, a squeak escaping her as her tears dropped to the musty old storage closet carpet below.

"Hey," he whispered soothingly. Of course the bastard was great at comforting people too. Why wouldn't he be? Why wouldn't he be so completely perfect? "It'll be okay."

She usually hated when people spoke so certainly. Because what did they know? What assurance did they have? But Gil meant well. He only ever meant well. Her breathing slowed and she realised she was truly letting him embrace her. What an unfortunate turn this had taken. But he was warm, and he smelled nice. And it felt nice when he rubbed her back.

Gil let her pull away, not making a grand affair out of the whole thing. He brushed away a few more tears of hers, "you okay?"

She nodded. She was far, far from it. But she could probably get through the rest of the work day without humiliating herself further. Her throat felt dry as a bone. "Thank you."

Gil tilted his head at her. He did give off the first impression that he would be some meathead, into his own looks and loud and brash and hypermasculine. But he was kind, he was considerate of others and his good nature only made him more sensitive to those around him. "I mean it, Thena, if there's anything you need at all."

He was one of only a few who even knew about her sisters. She didn't really go around announcing her past, and she wasn't one for keeping precious personal keepsakes on her desk either. But Gil had once seen her phone light up with a notification and asked who the girls on her lockscreen were.

And as much as she could have told him to mind his own business - and he would have, knowing him - it seemed worse to ignore it. So she had told him about her sisters, and how she had basically acquired them as children, as far as the state was concerned.

The biggest advantage to Gilgamesh knowing about her duties outside the office was that he was her biggest defender whenever she couldn't make events outside of work. Of course a lot of deals happened out of the office as well as in, and being able to seal those deals came with the job. But Gil always had an excuse ready for her when she couldn't join them for drinks after work, or make a round of golf or two on sunday morning.

He smiled as she finally picked her head up. "There she is."

She chose to ignore that. She sniffled, dabbing at her eyes again. If anyone asked her if she was okay once she stepped out of this closet, she might commit an act worthy of termination. "Thanks."

"Any time," he shrugged. He still didn't leave. "I saw you get up from your desk. I thought-"

Silence came over him, perhaps at the admission that he had all but followed her here. Any other coworker and she would have her keys in her hand and a knife with his car's name on it. But only Gilgamesh could say something like that and have it be just as innocent as he meant it.

"Sorry," he concluded, having discouraged himself yet again. He blushed.

She truly was a bitch of epic proportions to inspire this level of fear from the sweetest man alive, she gathered. Usually that wasn't a problem, of course, but just this once: it was undeserved. "That's nice of you, Gil."

That seemed to surprise him even more than walking in on her crying in the closet.

She finally reached for the doorknob, and Gil nearly leapt out of her way. She headed back to her desk, with the same papers in hand as when she had first gone in. At least at her desk, she could take a breath. Her computer was still open on emails, she set the papers beside her.

Of course

She replied to Sprite, although if she got more texts she was just going to tell her not to text in class.

If her sister wanted lasagne, then she would find a way to make it happen. Affection was not her most polished skill, but love needed no polishing. If her baby sister wanted lasagne, she would have it.

If only she weren't a horrendously bad cook.

Sersi was decent, but she only ever let her help when Sersi herself seemed eager to do so, and that was usually on weekends. And Ajak was an excellent cook. Her handwritten recipes alone would not help Thena actually produce the promised product.

Thena picked up her phone again. She scrolled until she could select the contact in her phone. Perhaps it was silly to text him when his desk was in sight of hers. She was just in a closet with the man. But she selected his name and typed.

Can you make lasagne?

#Thenamesh AU #thank you for the ask sweetheart!#it's okay I only post smut if it's specifically asked for and it will always be tagged #this is a very sweet prompt #I love the idea of Thena doing her very best for these girls #at first of course she's like I do not know how to be a mother #but they don't need a mother they need their sister #so Thena #freshly out of law school and deep in debt goes yes I will take my sisters into my custody #she takes the first job she can at any firm that pays decently #she can never socialise outside of work because she's literally a single mother #not that she wants to socialise anyway but that's beside the point #meanwhile Gil is everyone's fav #he's sweet he's charming he's charismatic #and he goes and has a beer after work and he gets offered to help on a big contract and he's like #okay but I'd like Thena on it with me #they're like uh buddy you don't need the ice queen's help #he goes no but she did study divorce and custody law it kind of overlaps with my specialty sometimes #anyway lasagne!#Thena says this is my...friend #from work #Sersi and Sprite:#Sersi and Sprite: is this your boyfriend?#Thena: dO NOT!!!!!#but I mean come on #your sister brings home this super handsome and funny and sweet guy from work #and he takes off his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves #and gets to work on your late mom's precious lasagne recipe?#they don't watch tv at all they're just spying on them all night

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convxction · 3 months

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realizing i haven't send dance ask from krumb. what am i evening doing?

#ooc.|| faty speaks #[arrest me now #[how dare me #[wow #[the prince trope and i just kicked it out of my brain #[ROLLS SLEEVES. I DONT NEED TO POST A THING I KNOW MY PEEPS LETS FRICKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO #[but ye if u wanna dance with krumb l got u fam let me know teehee #[oh god i feel stupid. thanks chrom. u usually nag the heck out of my brain #[oh. i see.#[it is something yo are not good at thats why u kept quiet huh #[ i see it now. asshole. i will not forgive you #[BUT YOU WANT YOUR ORANGES NAGA SMITE U CHROM #[smh.#[ok enough ranting here.#[blamewarstagihopeshedoesnotseeit #[sending extra things because i have been mia here #[swwwooooyy ;a;#[we will get the groove back soon #[i just hate my laptop because it is getting cluttered with school work and it kills the space and everything in it #[i want to save up and buy an external hard disk for school work because ... THERE IS A LOT #[i underestimated word files for worksheets exams lesson plans etc...frick

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ghoulschooldropout · 2 years

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thinking about MacCready's silly little outfit

#love to draw it hate to think about it #my dude why did you keep the back #get a shorter coat if the front part was bothering u so much instead of ?ripping??? it off???#and what is keeping that pocket on your leg? tape? is that tape? what is that #please just rip the other sleeve off or sew a new one on #it just cant be comfortable the way it is #i would be so annoyed with the sleeves i gotta have either both rolled up or both rolled down you just cant be lopsided like that cmon man #his fucking belt is the only thing keeping this outfit together literally he takes that off his coat falls apart and his pants fall down #do you guys think he goes commando? i feel like he would (derogatory)#like aesthetically i love this outfit somehow he makes the asymmetry work for him and altogether its like ok cohesive outift #and like you look at all the parts and it paints the picture the devs wanted to tell about him-- it fits his story #like ok I Get It homeboy is a practical self-taught wasteland mercenary hurting for caps #+green to show association with gunners and call back to fo3 #but like do the bullets chafe him at all? do they jingle when he walks? or does he secure them tight enough not to?#his hat's baller though no complaints there #i like his lucky charm bullets even if they are a bit silly #would've been cool though if he had more personal beef with winslow and barnes and was like 'im saving these two bullets for them'#revenge quest shit ig lol #anyway maccready ? smooch #i bet he thinks he looks so cool hes like yeah bullets on my thigh? badass.#the shreds of my coat flapping behind me in the wind? badass #and gotta have a scarf. thats his staple #k rambles #sorry the brain rot is strong today

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the-gayest-sky-kid · 1 year

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tbh dazais character design isn't that bad

#sure he has the ugly trenchcoat /lh #and he has his sleeves rolled up halfway inside the trenchcoat sleeves which is. sensory hell #and his shirt is striped.#and his pants are WAYY too light for his line of work #just because youre not getting blood on you all the time doesn't mean you wont get fucking grass stains #the vest is nice though #anf the bandages are an interesting design choice #and the bolo tie is a actually a good touch #its my favorite part of his design

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squidsploitation · 1 year

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— 3.2

#nunki watches columbo #long post //#columbo #notes: crazy rich whites double decker plane with the piano; visual theme of separation (your dad’s margin scribble: Homosexuality?)#— a shot of dear lieutenant with sleeves rolled up (obligatory); i’m happy of course that he went to work and found a bestie there and also #— learned a lot of stuff about wine and all; but did he have to have this sort of begrudging respect and camaraderie with. the guy who —#— is responsible for the most disturbing way to cain instinct someone we’ve seen so far… get his ass to jail babey you can do better 😔#but also. this was such a satisfying gotcha moment…….. ya played yaself…. right into his hands…………#additionally: that interview on carson on this ep where peter is just head over heels about donald pleasance… good stuff

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werewolfrevenge · 19 days

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Since I made 03 leon a gear (a psychic one so he’d be much weaker then most gears! But still like decent power level) he’s absolutely the type who doesn’t start fights but he’ll damn sure finish one

#he’s definitely more pacifistic in nature but if needed he’ll roll his eyes and get involved in a fight #(only way he gets involved in fights is if it’s absolutely necessary or if Casey gets seriously injured which means someone’s signed a death #certificate…..also later on after he builds a better relationship with the turtles he’d probably hop in a fight for one of them too….)#annoyed psychic🔮#a good way to describe his place on in the group is more so the medic #/defense like he’s got psychic abilities that are decently strong but he doesn’t know defensive combat so it’s easier for him to be last #line of defense/last resort basically just a card up your sleeve that you need to use correctly #like his abilities only work in short bursts so like gotta play strategic moves with how I write him in fight scenes and shit

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kentopedia · 7 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ my girl — nanami kento

summary: you know the kid that kento mentors has a little crush on you; why wouldn't you use that to your advantage?

contents: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, brat taming, possessive sex, semi-public sex, hair pulling, pet names, praise, dom nanami, jealousy, ino has the hots for you, unprotected sex, kinda deg, slight dumbification, um i think that's it clearly i am so desperate for nanami and i haven't even watched the new episode — 2.3k

under the table, you slide your palm up kento’s thigh as he speaks.

he's explaining something about sorcerer politics that you’re not really interested in hearing about, not when there’s an ache between your thighs that he refused to take care of before you left, and his sleeves are rolled up in the way he knows drives you crazy.

across from the two of you, ino sits, attentively listening to your husband as, every few seconds, his eyes subtly slide over to you, the pink flush on his cheeks returning each time he glances at the soft smile that rests on your glossy lips.

ino’s crush on you is no secret. he is, really, quite obvious about how much he wants your attention.

of course, he knows about you and kento, has known since he first set eyes on you at a sorcerers’ meeting and asked you, slyly, if you were single.

kento had come up behind you not a moment later, smiling with a golden band on his ring finger, asking ino if he forgot to introduce his wife.

and though the younger sorcerer respects nanami, perhaps more than anyone, it does little to quell the attraction he has for his wife… especially since you are so insistent on teasing the poor kid at every chance you get.

you can’t help it, really, when it riles kento up so easily. the way he vibrates under his skin with anger, irritated that another person could ever think of his wife in any manner that is less than respectable.

kento sets your hand gently back down on your lap, jaw clenching as his fingers twist around your wrist tightly. though he hides his irritation well, you can tell from the sharp glint in his eye, the tension in his shoulders, that it is getting the best of him.

your husband may be sweet, a lover that never acts rashly out of anger, but he has a possessive streak he’s never been very good at taming.

as kento stiffens, you smile sweetly at ino, who exhales heavily, shifting all of his attention on your husband. though, you are staring him down, listening attentively to every word that he says.

while ino speaks, you slide your hand back over kento’s thigh, vying for his attention. he clears his throat, a warning, as he grips your wrist once more and pushes you away.

it won’t be much longer before he snaps. kento's sitting straighter, back taut as he focuses his gaze sharply on the younger man across from him. whatever the two of them are speaking about is dull, repetitive talk about work that you are bored of.

“so, ino,” you finally ask, the lull in the conversation that you've been waiting for. you speak up before kento can ask any more questions about the sorcerer’s progress. “any pretty sorcerers caught your eye?” you lean froward with a small grin, your breasts fully on display as you set your chin in your palm. “surely someone as charming as you already has a girlfriend."

ino turns red then, a flush spreading from every corner as he tries, so hard, not to let his eyes fall. you admire the effort, really, even though kento catches the moment the younger man's gaze drops, the half second he stares at your tits and squirms in his seat.

“n-no,” ino stutters, nervous for the first time in this conversation; he is usually so loud and outspoken, never feeling shy about the words that leave his lips. “can’t seem to find many sorcerers my age.”

you laugh. it’s true that there are few sorcerers from his year, but you know it is the wrong thing to say.

anger radiates off your husband, and with a sense of satisfaction, you trace your fingers back up his thigh before grinning, batting your eyelashes at ino.

“why not go for someone older, then?” you ask, palming a hand over the steadily growing bulge in kento’s pants

ino chokes, and kento grabs your hand roughly, shoving your fist back onto his lap as he steadies all his anger and buries it down.

“excuse me,” kento suddenly interrupts, and his voice is so calm, so smooth, that its almost like nothing is out of the ordinary. he slides out of the booth, running a palm over his slacks, palms sweaty from his annoyance. “i just remembered i’ve got an important phone call to make. could we put a pause on this conversation?” he is so polite as he nods his head, and ino blinks, looks between the two of you, uncertain if he’s done something wrong.

“of course,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “take you time.”

“would you come with me, sweetheart?” kento turns to you then, and he sounds normal, like there’s nothing wrong, but his hands flex at his side, and his eyes are narrowed almost imperceptibly.

kento’s mad, and you know you’re fucked; but you can't help the desire that sits heavily in your stomach, the way you’re already soaking your panties, wanting him inside you.

“sure, ken.” you nod, smiling at him. “sorry, ino, we’ll back right back.”

you stand next to your husband, who places a heavy hand on your shoulder, a warning. but you love the feeling of his skin on your own and it does little to stop your teasing; it only makes you want him more.

ino says nothing as kento leads you around the restaurant, takes you to the back of the shop where there are two single-person bathrooms. one is occupied, and the other, empty.

the two of you go inside.

“are you trying to embarrass me?” kento says angrily, shoving you into the bathroom as he locks the door behind him, his eyes hungry at the sight of your flushed cheeks, the way you are already so desperate for him. he pushes you towards the sink, eyes flashing as you reach for him, hastily undoing his tie. “you’re acting like a fucking brat whose husband doesn’t know how fuck her right.”

“maybe you don’t,” you counter, yanking off his tie so you can unbutton his shirt, slide your hands across the expanse of his chest. god, you want him so fucking bad. you’re aching, arousal pooling in your panties as your husband lifts you, shoves you back onto the sink. “you wouldn’t even take care of me before you left—“

“don’t start.” he glares and unzips his slacks to free his half-hard cock, stroking it as you try to get your hands on him. though that attempt is feeble as kento grabs both your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head. with the other, he hikes your dress up, pushing it along your smooth thighs.

his voice is low and dangerous, deepening as he dances fingertips along your skin. “you’re so fucking desperate for attention that you’ll take it from anyone.” he pins you with his hard gaze, and you’re hot all over, legs shaking with anticipation. “i bet you like that he wants to fuck you so bad, even when you know i can fuck you better.”

you whimper, eyelids fluttering as kento reaches under your dress to pull down your panties.

“prove it, then” you say, and you know you’re only digging yourself a deeper hole, annoying him further as you grope at him. you squirm, trying to release your wrists from his hold, but he’s so strong; you’re only left a writhing mess under his touch. “i want you, kento.”

“yeah?” he asks, yanking your panties roughly down your thighs, the pair that has already been soaked through. “if i give you what you want, will you sit there quietly like a good girl, and stop flirting with the kid who wants something he can’t have?”

the tone sends aching need throughout you, and the commanding presence of his voice is almost too much. “i promise,” you say, shaking as you lock your heels around his hips. “please.”

“please,” kento repeats mockingly, eyes hard as he slips a finger inside of you. he slides right in, barely needing to prep you before he fucks you. “you should be embarrassed; you’re this fucking wet just from looking at me." his eyes harden. "so impatient that you can’t even wait until we get home.”

“i’ve been patient all day,” you say, high-pitched, but you’re quickly silenced as kento slides in and out of you, setting a steady pace while his thick fingers squelch inside your aching pussy. “need you to—“

“stop making demands." he releases your wrists to place a hand on your hips, stop you from fucking yourself on his fingers. “shouldn’t even be giving you what you want, but i can’t help myself. you’re so pretty, so desperate to have my cock inside you that you can’t even sit still.”

“kento, fuck,” you groan, grabbing his shoulders as he stretches his fingers deeper inside you, past the walls that clamp down on him. in a desperation to keep quiet, you try to kiss him, moan into his mouth so no one else can hear you.

but he grips your hair tightly, pulls you away from his lips as you moan, loudly, into the tight space of the bathroom. “nice try.” his fingers pump in and out of your soaked cunt. “but i want everyone to hear those pretty sounds, sweetheart. need them to know who’s fucking the brat out of you.”

you try to pull him towards you, shift him closer with your ankles. “kento—”

“louder.”

“kento, fuck, baby, please. i want you so bad, i love you—” you’re almost screaming, desperate to cum as his thumb brushes against your clit, teasing, and not enough for you to find complete release.

but you’re squeezing so tightly around his fingers that he must know you’re close, even as he pulls out of you, the juices from your need for him soaking his knuckle.

finally, he smiles at you, softly.

“there’s my good girl,” he says, and it reminds you why you never want anyone else but him, why you need him, desperately, all the time. kento’s cock is already aching, leaking, and he forces it into you without warning, grunting into your neck. “sometimes, you're just so fucking stupid when you want my cock.”

you nod, whimpering out a breathy moan as he thrusts into you, hard and rough, still holding you by the hair so you can’t kiss him, even as much as you want to.

you’re so hot all over, skin burning as he stretches you. “please, let me cum, ken,” you say, and there’s tears in your eyes; you’re so close, but you want to be good for him, want to show him how much you love him.

he hums against your neck, watches you writhe as he forces himself deeper into you, burying his cock in your pussy completely.

you can’t help the sinful noises that leave your throat, echoing down the vents to the kitchen, to the dining room. and maybe everyone in the restaurant can hear your husband fucking you, but you don’t care, not when you’ve waited this long for him to be inside you.

“so pretty,” he says, sharply, and finally, he lets his hands fall from your hair, holds your hips instead, bringing you harder onto his cock.

a tear rolls down your cheek and you bite down on your tongue to keep from screaming, whimpering at the aching pleasure in your entire body.

“you’re mine,” kento says, kissing you sloppily, hungrily as you thread your fingers through his hair. his tip brushes the sensitive spot inside you, and you're not sure how much longer you can stop yourself from cumming. “mine, mine, mine. no one else should ever get to fucking look at you if they can’t tell who you belong to.”

“i don’t want anyone but you,” you say, and you’re almost shouting, saliva all over your mouth as you drool from his harsh kisses. "i'm yours, kento."

you feel him smile against your lips. “that’s my girl,” he says, voice rough as he grips you tightly, nearing his own orgasm. “you wanna cum, pretty? make a mess on my my cock, sweetheart. i’m so close.”

his thrusts grow sloppy, and you grip his shoulders as he fucks deep into you cunt, forcefully, and, finally, you cry out, toes curling as you cum, hard, around him.

kento’s face is flushed, sweat at his hairline as his tips edges against your cervix, almost painfully, before he’s toppling over the edge, biting down hard on your shoulder with a groan. hot ropes spill into your cunt, and you're still writhing, moaning from sensitivity as his warm seed settles deep within you.

he’s so pretty; you kiss him over and over, the loose hair that sticks to his forehead, the flush on his cheeks. “mmm,” you hum, tasting the coffee on his tongue. “love you so much, kento,”

“you say that now,” he says curtly, slowly dragging himself out of your tight walls. “but wait until we get home.”

already, your pussy aches again, and you’re too warm, sweating as kento fixes his hair in the mirror.

you try to slide your panties back on, reach for where they've pooled at your ankles, but kento is faster. he yanks them away, folds them up nicely to tuck into his pocket.

“kento—”

“leave them off,” he says, sniffing as his cheeks slowly return to their normal color. “maybe ino will stop thinking about fucking my wife if he sees my cum running down her thighs.”

you stare at him, blinking, but you don’t have the energy or the willpower to fight anymore. instead, you obey, standing as a mix of kento's cum and your own juices seep onto your inner thigh, creating a sticky mess between your legs.

your husband unlocks the door, and you follow him back into the dining room, where ino is subtly sliding back into the booth, his cheeks red, a bulge obvious in his pants. he glances between the two of you with wide eyes, and darts his gaze back down between your legs, before staring at kento uncomfortably.

“did you get your call sorted out?” he asks, and his voice is higher, squeakier as you sit down with your husband.

kento smirks, satisfied. “it’s been taken care of.”

i need him to fuck me so bad

#kento nanami smut #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami x fem!reader #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami x you #nanami x reader #kento nanami x y/n #nanami x y/n #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#beloved kento 💋 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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nanaminis · 1 month

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piggyback rides

synop: you want trueform!sukuna to give you a piggyback ride and he doesn’t know what it is. that’s it.

tags: fluffy fluff fluff, fem!reader (referred as woman once, refers to self as ‘queen’ and ‘wife’ once), ooc sukuna (only bc he’s less of an asshole), possessive behavior (kind of?), mentions of sukuna-typical violence, likely historically inaccurate, not proofread. i couldn’t determine whether or not he was actually wearing a haori or something similar - correct me if i’m wrong n i’ll change it!

notes: basic ass title ik... erm sorry! another post in two days is a miracle so i’m a little proud of myself. half-assed ending lol... anyway, this is just a silly lil drabble!! any interaction is much appreciated, enjoyyyy! :3

“what.”

the first set of crimson eyes dart down to look at you, the other set still tracking the scuttling servants. you’re situated quite snugly in his expansive lap — two thick arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into the warmth of his bare chest. “what the hell is that?”

you nibble the inside of your cheek to suppress a smirk. finally, you know something that sukuna does not! and it only took three years. “it’s where i get on your back and you carry me around. quite simple, truthfully.”

he snorts at the slight condescension in your voice. for something so agitating, you have quite the ego. “mm. and why should i do that for you? you can walk on your own, unless your legs are mysteriously broken all of a sudden.”

“because,” you say with a huff, “it’s fun. don’t you want to bond with your queen?”

anxious eyes of passing maids sneak glances at you, your little huff drawing their attention. sukuna shifts you in his lap, turning you to the side, and the massive sleeve of his robe moves to obscure your form from their undeserving gaze. “we have bonded enough.”

“and it would not hurt to bond some more!” you counter. sukuna’s stubbornness is something you absolutely adore about him, but not right now. “can the mighty king of curses not spare a moment of his day to entertain his wife’s wish?”

he falls silent at this, and you can practically see the gears churning in his big head. he’ll cave. if there’s one thing that’s undeniable about the sorcerer, it’s his curiosity.

“... fine,” he grunts. after scooping you up and setting you down, he stands up and gestures with his hand. “so how do we do it?”

your lips curve up into a smirk. “okay, turn around so that your back is facing me.”

sukuna turns around, folding one pair of arms over his chest.

“then, crouch down a little.”

a beat passes, and then he crouches down, back muscles flexing underneath the dark fabric of his haori.

you step up behind him and slide your arms around his neck. his adam’s apple bobs, and the other arms move to cradle your butt. “if this is an attempt to choke me, it isn’t work.”

he always thinks someone’s out to get him. you roll your eyes. “no. if i wanted to kill you, i likely would’ve attempted forever ago.” you lift your lower half onto the lower part of his back, and your legs wrap around his hips.

another beat passes. “is that it?”

“yep.”

sukuna adjusts you, his hold on you becoming more secure as he rights himself to his full height. the warmth of your breath ghosts across his ear, and he can smell the scented lotion you applied this morning.

why hadn’t he done this before?

“soooooo,” you drawl, and he can hear the smile in your beautiful voice without even having to look. you’re so close — he hears the little inhale before you speak, the nearly imperceptible huff of laughter once you finish. “what are you just standing here for? we gotta walk around, explore the estate! it’s not fun if we’re just stuck in one place.”

“i am not a servant,” he warns, voice gruff, but he starts to move towards the throne room’s exit anyway. anyone unfortunate enough bows, mutters a jumbled greeting to the both of you, and scrambles out of the way.

it’s no secret that sukuna is more... benevolent, when you’re around. but that is a double-edged sword — if someone dares to disturb your peace or inconvenience you in his presence, they’d be facing a swift death, along with their parents for giving birth to such vermin.

“apologies, my spectacular husband.” you lean forward a bit and press a kiss onto his cheek, leaving a faint lipstick stain. “now, please, venture forth.”

he rolls his eyes. “if you command me again, woman, i am going to sprint.”

the teasing lilt quickly disappears from your voice, and your arms tighten around his neck. “n-no, that isn’t necessary.”

sukuna’s pace increases, now a brisk jog instead of a leisure walk, and you can hear the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “oh? is it not?”

“it isn’t!” you squeak. a little embarrassing, yes, but you know how fast sukuna is — you’re positive that if he broke out into a full-speed run, you’d be sick by the end of it.

“let’s find out and see.”

#﹒writing #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk sukuna #sukuna #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you

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kissitbttr · 10 months

Text

miguel putting up with his girl’s princess attitude

“miguel!” you call out from the bathroom as your fingers delicately fix the straps of your bodycon dress. “can you come here for a minute?”

miguel sighs, this is the third time you keep calling him knowing how busy he is at the moment. work has gotten the best of him, and if reinventing new techs back to back isn’t enough to drain him, he has to keep up with your needs daily.

does he has the courage to say no to you, though? nope. as much as he hates to admit it because it’s embarrassing, he’s scared of you. if the spider society think that Miguel is too frightening then they have not seen you get mad or being a brat.

“coming, baby!” he walks out of his office while taking off his glasses, rolling the sleeves of his henley shirt to his elbows.

the bathroom door is left wide open, immediately seeing you standing before the mirror in a long and tight fitting grey dress that falls just around your ankles. and just like that, his annoyance completely washed off,

he takes a good look at you. eyes slowly observing every single detail of your face and down to your body. the way that dress hugs your curves and accentuate your best assets should be a crime,

God, you’re such a perfection.

“shut your mouth before you catch flies, babe” you jokingly say as your fiancee stares at you with his jaw slightly agape. “mind helping me?”

Miguel clears his throat after, slightly smirking as he shrug his shoulders. he leans against the door way with his arms crossed, eyes never leaving yours.

“you look absolutely divine, mi amor.” he comments, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “is that new?” he points at the dress,

rolling your eyes playfully, you try to keep your composure still. even after three years of dating—now engaged— he still manages to make your heart skips and create butterflies in the pit of your stomach,

“I know” you reply in confidence, winking at him which he chuckles in return. “and yes it is! it’s SKIMS! got it yesterday, does it look good on me?”

he frowns, tilting his head to the side. “baby, you already know the answer to that come on now… you make anything look sexy.” he strides closer to you as he stands from behind you, “now, què necesitas?” he questions, resting his hands on his hips

you find it attractive how he towers over you, and it’s one thing that you love about him. it’s not that you’re petite or anything. but compared to how tall and big he is, you’re definitely tiny.

“straighten my hair for me please? I can’t reach it” you pout at him through the mirror, “just this part right here” fingers move to the back to touch part of your hair,

“ay dios mio, woman… you’re lucky i love you” he teases before grabbing the iron from the sink. “going out with the girls, mami? i assume lunch?” he asks as he starts parting your hair with one hand,

your head shakes, straightening the dress. “no, I’m doing cake testing today and wedding dresses … Darla is bringing three more flavors.”

he stops what he’s doing, giving you a confused look. “alone? cariño why didn’t you tell me? you know I’d come with you” he feels a bit disappointed and now guilty that he’s busying himself with work and instead you’re left dealing with your wedding, alone.

his hand rests on your shoulder and you move yours on top of him. “hey, it’s okay, Miggy… you’ve been so stressed lately i do not want to put more pressure… it was last minute anyway, she texted me this morning.”

“you’re my girl, i would never be too busy for you.” he says almost too fast,

giving him a sincere smile, you nod your head. “yes… i know, baby. trust me it’s okay…plus it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in a wedding dress” you giggle a bit. “we can go over the seating arrangements again together, yeah? i promise” you plant a soft kiss on his finger,

Miguel exhales a sigh, still feeling tiny bit upset that he won’t be there to keep you company. “okay, fine… tell Darla that keep vegan options open for the cakes.”

“noted, honey.” you tell him as he continues to straighten your hair, “is everything okay with work?”

he nods, eyes too fixated on your long hair, not wanting to mess up a single strand. “just running over a few reports and fixing few minor defects on the techs and my suit…the last guy did quite a number on me.”

“hmm i love it when you speak science to me” you comment, watching him laugh a bit at your flirty remark. “but you still need to be careful. i do not want to see my future husband all bruised up when i walk down that aisle or else I’ll leave your ass.” your tone comes off demanding and firm, but it’s only because you care.

“yes ma’am” he replies, setting down the hot object down on the sink before slowly running his fingers through your hair. “there you go, baby” he moves your hair to the front, kissing your cheek and seeing you smile just makes him happy. knowing he’s done a great job.

turning around to face him, you stand on your toes to kiss his lips. “thank you, miggy… I’ll see you later, okay? we can go grab dinner outside and then movie night at 9?”

his heart warms at that and lips stretches into a large grin. “sounds like a plan.” then he lightly slaps your ass as you walk out of the door,

“let me know if there’s going to be bunch of assholes staring at you today, I’ll hunt them down and fucking kill them on the spot.” he mentions as if it’s nothing

and they say romance is dead.

cake testing with miggy!

#miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara

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augustinewrites · 9 months

Text

“babe. baaaabe. babe!”

“what, satoru?” you ask sharply, looking up from your laptop to where your boyfriend has spread himself across your couch, his legs in shoko’s lap.

he lifts his shades to look at you. “was i your first crush?”

“yes,” you answer quickly.

you immediately return to the report you’re writing, missing the face shoko makes before she says, “that’s not true.”

“ieiri,” you whisper harshly, but it’s too late. your boyfriend’s already jumped off the couch to lean his palms against your desk.

“what? i wasn’t your first?!”

“you were,” you insist, glaring at your friend. “shoko is clearly misremembering things.”

“am i though?”

“you know what, it’s fine,” gojo sighs, slipping his shades back on and rolling the sleeve of his t-shirt up so he can flex. “obviously i’m way cooler than whatever lame schmuck high school you was crushing on.”

behind him, shoko’s scoff is the final nail in your coffin. “nanami is way cooler than you ever were.”

you slap your forehead, bracing yourself for gojo’s inevitable overreaction.

but he doesn’t get the chance, interrupted by a light knock against your doorframe from, you guessed it, nanami kento.

“yaga said you wanted to see me?”

cue overreaction.

“you had a crush on— on him?”

nanami swats gojo’s finger away from his cheek.

“oh my god,” your boyfriend breathes, currently experiencing a quarterlife crisis. “you liked this emo nemo?”

nanami ignores him, sending you a questioning look. “he doesn’t know?”

“what is it now?” satoru asks, slumping back into the couch. “did you guys go on a date or something?”

your lack of answer is enough for him to let his head fall back rather dramatically.

“can you blame her?” shoko asks. “he was sexy back then. in an edgy, mysterious kind of way. meanwhile, you were like…if a string bean made love to a cauliflower.”

even gojo doesn’t have a witty retort prepared for that.

you decide to clear this up once and for all. “it wasn’t just about looks. you were busy after— after riko. you didn’t have time for a relationship or…for me. you wanted to get stronger and i didn’t want to get in your way.”

“you wouldn’t have been—”

“i would have.” you shrug. because you know him, and you know what he was like. “and that’s okay because we were still kids, satoru. and it was only one date! no need to get so torn up about it!”

_____

“what is this?” you ask later that night, when you find satoru hauling a huge box into your apartment.

“it’s a bowflex!” gojo explains proudly, patting the unopened box. “shoko said that i was built like a string bean, so i’m gonna buff up like nanami! and when megumi moves out next year, i’m gonna turn his room into a gym.”

you lean in the doorway, amused. nanami also has a home gym. “is that why you’re also wearing a suit and tie instead of your usual uniform?”

he does a show spin, letting you take it all in. you don’t even want to know how much it must have cost. “do you like it?”

“you do look very handsome.”

“i know,” he winks, cocky as ever. “now watch this.”

he brushes a few strands of hair over his eyes, lowering his voice a few octaves as he says, “taxes. office work. satoru, i respect you so much!”

you walk up to him, brushing the hair back to press a kiss to his forehead. “nanami would never say that last thing, but i do like the effort.”

he loops his arms around your waist, returning the kiss and murmuring against your skin, “did it turn you on though? maybe i should get an office job—”

“satoru,” you whine, resting your forehead against his chest. “it was just a short-lived crush. and it was forever ago! i’m pretty sure you’ve had crushes that weren’t me.”

“nope,” he hums, resting his chin atop your head. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve ever needed…is you.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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sukunas-wife · 4 months

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Waking up pressed into Sukuna’s large frame on a cold morning, the thick heavy embroidered blankets trapping all the heat. Eyes heavy with sleep as you took a deep breath through your nose arching your back and stretching your free arm.

Turning over and looking at Sukuna who was already staring down at you. Bleary vision as you blinked away the faint blur, “Good morning.”

Sukuna’s smile was faint, lidded eyes looked over your body through the duvet, “morning.” On of his arms held you against him and the other pulled your head closer as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “There’s a surprise.” The arms on his right side moved you leaned up trying to peek over his massive chest, before you smiled laughing quietly. He held up the blanket with one arm the other holding your son Yuji curled up into his side, almost in the pit of his arm. You reached over fingers lightly tracing Yuji’s cheek, your sweet boy who resembled his father so heavily but wore his heart on his sleeve so openly.

“He’s been waiting for the first snow, he’s been so excited now that it’s getting colder, but he shouldn’t be running around in this hard floor with no shoes! Or socks at least, look at his little feet, he could get sick.” You scolded your son in his sleep before he started to stretch “Look what you did, you woke my boy.” Sukuna chided with a mischievous laugh.

“Sno?” His first words as he rubbed his eyes with his tiny fists yawning. You sat back in your spot as Sukuna evaded his question holding him up in the air with one set of arms using the other to tickle him as he spoke “Waking up and the first thing you ask is if there’s snow, need to show my little brat some manners, how about a good morning dad or how did you sleep mom, hm?” Yuji was laughing holding onto his dads forearms kicking his feet before Sukuna sat up and Yuji sat in his lap resting his chin on his dad’s chest still smiling “morning daddy,” he turned to you trying to climb off his dad “gmornin mommy.”

You cooed at him dragging him into a tight hug and kissing his head, “Good morning baby how did you sleep?” He smiled “Good! It was cold so so i came running and ume saw me and i started to run faster like daddy! I made it an ume didn’t catch me but i couldn’t make it into the bed …” he looked down at his little chubb legs, “Is to high so i used teh chair!” He perked up and pointed at a chair at the foot of the bed, you laughed and squeezed him again, “Your so smart and cute.” He laughed when your squished him peppering his face with kisses.

“Like daddy!” Pointed at your husband causing him to let out a loud laugh “Sorry brat but if you wanna be like ME you have a lot of work to do.” Resting your cheek on Yuji’s head you looked at your husband who had a set of arms folded behind his head the other set crossed against his chests, you moved your cheek watching Yuji look at his hands before feeling him shake, he looked up at you with a look of look of betrayal and teary eyes, his cheek’s reddening, “i… i only have two… two hands!” Bringing a hand to your mouth you looked away not wanting to laugh at in your son’s face, looking out the window you saw your escape, “Yuji! Honey look it’s snowing!”

He tried to rush over to the window, tripping off the bed, the patter of his feet making you shake your head. You heard Sukuna sigh before you felt a hand of his rest on your waist pulling you back to him. “You do realize he’ll want to-CAN WE GO OUTSIDE!” The scream of your son made you side eye Sukuna with a smile and he looked away rolling his eyes.

“Uraume!” A second later Uraume entered the room bowed with closed eyes, “Yes Lord Sukuna?” Sukuna pushed the duvet back “bring my robes let the maids in and then get my brat ready to go outside.” Yuji cheered and rushed to Uraume ready to get dressed. Uraume and the maids made quick work of getting you and Yuji ready to head out into the snow that was quickly piling up. Sukuna only closed his robes for a change, but it was evident he was uncomfortable from the stretch of the fabric. The three of you heading out into the snow your ladies in waiting and Uraume standing just a bit off. You watched as Yuji ran around in the snow the crunching of his foot steps as he ran throwing fallen snow into the air, Sukuna laughing loudly when Yuji tripped and disappeared into the snow, only stopping and shocked when you rushed over to Yuji and falling waist deep into the same hole. He sighed walking over to pull you both out, his arm movement restricted by his closed robes before he tore the robes entirely just to pull both of you out.

“That’s better.” Was all he said as he rolled his shoulders, chest and back exposed to the cold, and soon enough you were fighting Yuji to keep his clothes on when you had turned to him watching him try to fold his robes down the way his father had. Sukuna scoffed with a smirk watching as his son ran away from you in the snow chest bare for all to see. Your lungs aching from the cold air, Yuji was smiling big his laughs blowing out puffs of fog until he was snatched up by Sukuna who fixed his robes, “enough,” his voice was stern as Yuji sat on his forearm, “when your mother tell you to stop and come here you listen understood.”

Yuji nodded looking up at Sukuna, in his eyes his dad was the best thing in the world, to him Sukuna could say he hung every star in the sky and created the moon and sun and Yuji would awe and hold onto every word he said believing it was the absolute truth. You smiled at your husband, leaning against his arms once you were close enough, the heat of his body radiating and you realized he didn’t have a single snow flake on him.

🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤

“Yuujiii” you rubbed your sons back, he was curled up against your chest, your back against Sukuna’s chest. “Mm” he shook his head trying to bury his face in your chest and smiled down him. “Yuji, it’s Christmas don’t you wanna get up and open your gifts?” “m cold” he was quick to fall asleep as you huffed flipping over your body pulling Yuji with you

You face Sukuna with your little bundle of life between both of you, in his half awake state he pulled you closer squishing Yuji between his and your own chest. He laid on his left side on arm tucked under his head the other pulling both you and Yuji close, his right arm placed on your waist and the other pulling the duvet up to cover you all. The faint crackling wood could be heard from the smoldering fire as it slowly faded, the shadow of snow falling filled the room from the window, the soft breaths of your son squished between you and your husband. Your left hand came up to hold Ryomen’s face, his eyes opened slightly, the smile on your face as you did your best to stretch up and kiss him, he leaned down to meet your kiss.

“I love you,” was all you whispered against his lips, feeling the heat on his cheeks as he squeezed your soft side “I’ll do everything to protect you and Yuji until my last breath.” Was his affectionate response.

Your soft smile in the faint light of the rising sun, soft breaths when you whispered “Merry Christmas Ryomen.” He let out a breathy laugh amused, “mm, Merry Christmas.”

#sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen #jjk anime #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna thirst #jujutsu kaisen #daddy sukuna #yuji itadori #son Yuji #jjk au #jjk asks #ryomen sukuna #yuji and mom reader #Sukuna x wife reader #soft sukuna #Sukuna x reader fluff

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gojonanami · 20 days

Text

❝ 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌) ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS YOU TAKE CARE OF NANAMI ALL YOUR LIFE -- AND HE DOES THE SAME FOR YOU ? ❞

✧ pairing: nanami kento x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: throughout your years of jujutsu tech, you take care of kento, whether its a wound from a curse or a simple cut his finger -- and when he returns he finds you still ready to take care of him -- even after shibuya.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, hurt / comfort w/ a happy ending, domesticity, jjk canon compliant au (because nanami is alive) reader is the same age as nanami, set during through the events of star plasma vessel to end of jjk, nanami getting hurt and reader taking care of him, reader gets a cold and nanami takes care of her, jealous! nanami, kitchen counter sex, soft dom! nanami, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing

✧ wc: 7,657

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 3 has been sold to two anons!

“Show me,” Nanami furrows his brow in reply, jaw set as he glares, but he knew no amount of staring would get you to let this go. You stood in the doorway of his dorm room — your room was clear across on the other side where the girls resided, so he wondered for a split second how you knew he returned when it had barely been an hour, but answered his own question without having to utter a word (Haibara).

“It’s not bad. It’ll heal by itself—“ and you’re shaking your head, and his lips purse, “it really isn’t worth speaking to Ieiri about — it’s not a wound, just a bruise—“

But still you stood, as immovable as ever — and he finally relented, unbuttoning his jacket, as he shrugged it off, unable to hide his wince as he revealed the large bruise that colored his skin in red, his skin peeling and angry, and surely would turn into a lovely mish-mash of purple and blue.

You brush past him into the dorm room, as you brought a first aid kit in, setting it on the bed, turning your head before tilting it as if to say, “well?”

He repents, as he always did with you — he knew a battle of wills with you was as unwinnable as a battle of jujutsu with Gojo — not to mention needlessly frustrating. He sat at the edge of his bed, eyes fixed to the floor, as you grabbed a washcloth from the kit, heading for his bathroom. He hears the sounds of water running, and the squeak of the faucet closing.

You return as you lift his arm slightly, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt to his shoulder.

Your touch is gentle — Nanami was always surprised at how gentle you always were. With the line of work you all did, it was easy to be rough, to find smooth edges corroded and jagged, but no, you remained as smooth and soft as you always were.

He flinches when you bring the wet washcloth to raw skin, and you’re careful even as you seemingly pick out pieces of gravel and dirt stuck in his flesh. And you frown at the sight of it, doing your best to clean every bit.

“So what happened?” you ask, and he gives a terse chuckle.

“Didn’t Haibara tell you?” And you shrug, “I know he told you we’re back,” and your lips curl ever so slightly as your eyes meet him, a small amount of mirth returning.

“Maybe I’m just a stalker,” and he can’t bite back the small smile on his lips, “Haibara told me you didn’t go to Ieiri, and that you got hurt protecting him on your mission,”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head, “Ieiri was busy dealing with Haibara, he got it worse than I did—“

“Even if your injury is less serious, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look after yourself,” and he sighs, as his eyes slide to you, “you need to learn to care about yourself, Nanami,”

And he knew you were right on some level — he didn’t have a delusion of invincibility and he also didn’t have a strong enough desire to strive to be stronger, but — his fingers grasp at his sheets —that didn’t mean he wanted to see his friends die. “You don’t have to do this,” he says again, and you don’t meet his gaze when he looks over at you, your brow set in concentration, “it’s not important—“

“Nanami, you don’t ever seem to value yourself properly,” you finish cleaning his arm, before grabbing bandages and tape from the kit, “you are important — even if you don’t think you are,”

And he opens and shuts his mouth — before a smile pulls at his lips — you were far too kind, especially for a jujutsu sorcerer.

And then you add, “and if you don’t get your wounds tended to, I’m going to tell Gojo you want to take a sweets tour of Tokyo,”

…maybe he spoke too soon.

~~~~

“How did you manage to hurt yourself so badly during training?” You offer Nanami a makeshift ice pack, a small cloth wrapped up with ice from his freezer, and his lips pursed in disgust as his reply, “ah, Gojo,” the mattress shifted under his weight as he sat,

“That arrogant idiot,” Nanami grumbled, as he pressed the ice pack to the back of his head, “his excuse was that he didn’t know his own strength — he’s lucky that he had infinity or I would have—“

You chuckle, “You know he’s just messing with you, it’s just because you react,” and he scowls at his floor of his room, as if his carpet was the six eyes sorcerer itself, “he’s not so bad—“

He raises an eyebrow, his mouth parted in disbelief, “Are you defending him right now?” And you chuckle, as you lean back against the side of his bed, your head leaning back against the soft comforter that you had bought him and guaranteed would help him sleep better (it only guaranteed that you would be asleep underneath it half the time they spent in his dorm relaxing).

You wave him off, “Lower your blood pressure. I’m not defending him, I’m just saying, it can’t be easy being the strongest — all those eyes on you, the way people treat you, the—”

“The weight of your overinflated ego that you have to carry around—” and you roll your eyes, and the action bites at his last nerve, because he thought if anyone would have his back, it would be you — the next words spit like venom out of his mouth, “I thought you were better than those girls that moon over Gojo,”

And he regrets the words as they leave his lips, as you stare at him wordlessly — not with anger, but frustration — which hurts all the more, “If I was so in love with Gojo, then why am I with you instead of him?” He doesn’t have a reply as you rise to your feet and make your way out the door, the click of the door far too deafening, leaving him with a throbbing in his head — but not just from being hurt.

His fingers curled tighter around the ice pack. Because why—why did the thought of you liking Gojo make his chest ache—the idea of your care and time spent on someone else, not even Gojo, but anyone else, made his stomach churn at the idea.

He had told himself when he decided to become a sorcerer, he would do anything to avoid relationships — even friendships if he could do so. When you work a job like this, it can only end in disaster. but— his eyes slide to the closed door you had just left through.

Why did this feel so much worse?”

~~~

“You can’t stay here all night,” your voice cuts through the silence of the morgue — the only life left in the room. Because he too had died along with Haibara.

Or rather he should have.

He kept the towel over his eyes, unmoving from his chair, head resting back against the cold metal — as if it would protect him — from seeing Haibara sliced half over and over, last words dying on his lips said in pure chaos but somehow Nanami could still hear them ring in his ears— just as the sick crumple of his torso hitting the ground after being ripped from his body. The words leaving his lips as the last vestiges of life left his body, fingers twitching as his lips moved—

You got it from here.

The hopeful optimism from a person seconds before death did little to comfort him. Not when that person should have been the one who lived. He had the one thing that was so rare in his shit world of jujutsu — kindness—

The very thing that left half his body lying against a metal slab.

“I can’t leave until…” he trails off, he didn’t wish to leave until his body was inspected and then taken to be…disposed of. He knew it was for the best that his body is turned to ash, but it made it no easier to consider the person that he knew to be his best friend would be nothing but ash in a few hours time, “I won’t leave him alone,”

You nod, and the silence makes him wonder if you’re leaving, but instead he hears footsteps and the slight scraping of a metal chair against the floor. And he feels the slight brush of you beside him as you sit.

And you don’t say a thing. The only thing is that your fingers brush his tentatively and when he doesn’t pull away you intertwine them. And that’s enough—for now.

Until they take his body away.

A sorcerer glances at the two of you, “Do either of you have contact with next of kin? We need to notify—“

“I’ll handle it,” Nanami says, the towel pulled away from his gaze, hoping his dark bags and red tinged eyes aren’t noticeable to you, but he sees the purse of your lips and knows they are.

The sorcerer shifts, “Have you considered asking his family for—“

“That’s not an option,” Nanami cuts him off with a stare, and the sorcerer parts his mouth before shutting it again with a nod, “okay, please allow us to take his body,”

And they do, pulling the sheet down ever so slightly that Nanami sees a flash of his face — no hint of that smile he always unfailingly had on his lips — it too was gone, just like he was. And they carefully wheel his body away — assumedly to be burned. And the door swings shut behind them — leaving only him and you. Silence hangs over the room, the finality of the moment leaves nothing in its wake but regret.

And regret only felt hollow — just as his heart did.

You choose to break the silence, a shaky sigh leaving your throat, as you quickly scrub tears away from your face, clearing your throat, “Come on, let’s go—”

“You can go ahead, I’m going to stay here for a while,” and your eyes try to find his own, but he still stares at the spot where Haibara’s body had laid for hours. The essence of cursed energy was almost too easy to understand compared to the concept of death — a person can be living, breathing, and talking one day to be nothing but a husk the next. And now, he knew it would be a lifetime of feeling as if something is missing — as if something was wrong — and moments where it felt fine would be overcome by only guilt and anger.

What was the point of all of this? His fingers formed into fists, nails digging into his palms — were they nothing but pawns to be used in an unending game that forced sorcerers to not only to put their lives on the line, but their colleagues as well. A twisted game that only ended in a pile of corpses.

“Nanami, you can’t stay here all night—”

“I’m fine,” he rubs at his temples — and how long would it be until he’s staring at your body on that slab? Or maybe you’d be staring at his own—crying over his body just as he had done for Haibara, “you can go—”

“I’m not leaving you, and you shouldn’t stay here — you need sleep—”

“You don’t have to take care of me,” he snaps, his gaze meets yours, “I’m not injured, I didn’t even get hurt— ”

“Yes you did,” you say quietly, as you step closer to him, but his eyes refuse to meet your own.

“No—” and your hand finds his chest.

“This pain is worse than any physical pain you could put in — and I wouldn't leave you to deal with a bruise by yourself, so what makes you think I’d leave you now?” you say softly, and tears burn at his eyes, as your hands gently pull him into your arms, his head buried against your chest, “I’m not leaving you, Nanami,” you murmur quietly, as your fingers slowly run through his hair.

And you didn’t — he was the one who left you.

~~~~

You never get sick. That’s what you loved to brag about — especially yesterday when you got home from spending an entire two days in the rain soaking wet and ice cold without a hint of cold symptoms.

You supposed your bragging was a curse in and of itself because now you were buried under your comforter. You barely manage to text Shoko that you’re sick and you won’t be able to make it to class today. And now you had to wonder if it was worth the effort to get out of bed to take your medication or to simply sleep it off.

But your body made the choice for you as your eyes fluttered shut and you slipped into a fitful sleep, body burning from the inside out.

Consciousness faded in and out, as you felt something brush against your forehead, your eyes heavy as they open ever so slightly, a flash of blue and blond, before you fall back into sleep.

Your head aches, muscles heavy, and the smell of spices wafted through the apartment, “Are you finally awake?” a voice said, as your eyes flutter open, still burning at the corners as your head turns.

“Nanami?” You croak out, throat raw and dry, as if your flesh was raked across coals, “what are you—“

He turns his head from your kitchenette — a ladle in hand, before he sets it down, wiping his hand with a dishcloth. And he steps over to your bed, pulling the washcloth from your forehead, before placing a cold washcloth, “your fever went down a little,” he said, “but I brought cold medicine and I made some soup for you,”

“You didn’t—“

“Have to?” his lips quirked up, “I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to,”

“How did you know I was—“ and his eyes find yours, “Shoko,” and he nods, you relax back into your bed, “how long have you been here?”

He turns back around to finish cooking the soup for you, stirring, the metal of the ladle slightly clinking against the sides of the pot, his eyes flicker to your clock, “About an hour and half, hasn’t been too long,”

“Why are you taking care of me?” you mumble, glancing at his back, as he lifted the ladle to pour into a small bowl to taste the seasoning of the soup, “you don’t owe me anything—“

“I owe you a lot,” he cuts you off, the clatter of the bowl against the counter as he sets it down, the click of the stovetop as he shut it off, “but that’s not the reason I did it,” and your brow is furrowing under the washcloth, as he walks over to you, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Then why?”

And he raises an eyebrow, “Why do you think?” And his fingers brush your cheek, “you’re the only reason I’ve stayed here as long as I have, otherwise I would have left, a long time ago,” and you don’t know how it’s possible for your face to grow warmer but it does from his words and his touch that lingers against your cheek.

And he’s gone as quickly as he came, going over to the stove to take out a bowl of soup for you to drink, “can you stay after I finish eating? Until I fall asleep?” You ask, as he brings the bowl over, as you sit up slowly, head spinning as you do still.

“Of course,” and he does, staying by your side after you eat and take your medicine, hearing your quiet murmur, “thank you, Kento,”

And he realizes, as his lips curl into a smile, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, just how much he liked hearing his name on your lips.

~~~

“How did you manage to hurt yourself on our last mission together as students?” you sigh, the worry in your voice making his lips curl — as the two of you had just found yourselves in his dorm room, as you rifle through his bathroom to pull out the first aid kit you had given him (after you had learned he didn’t own one).

You return to him sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his hand up in such a way that he didn’t drip blood all over his sheets. Your fingers brush his own, and he’s still surprised at how soft your hands are. His hands had grown rough from the years of jujutsu, calloused from the grip of his fingers around his blade handle, but somehow, yours were always as soft as he remembered them.

Your fingers found his, warmth blooming as your brow wrinkled as you scruntized the cut on his hand, “Maybe we should ask Shoko to look at it—”

“There wasn’t any cursed energy that cut me — it was just—”

“Debris, I know,” and this seemingly did little to soothe your worries, had gotten when pushing you out of the way of the curse, “I had it handled — you shouldn’t have dove in—”

“It’s fine, it’s not that bad—” but your glare cuts off his sentence, as you begin to clean the wound.

You shake your head, “What am I going to do with you? Every time you go on a mission, I’m going to be worrying about what trouble you’re going to get yourself into,”

He’s silent, his eyes unable to meet yours — he can’t keep hiding this from you. He had made the decision months ago — and it was only a matter of time before someone else slipped up and told you (most likely Gojo).

“I’m leaving after graduation,” he says the words like ripping off the bandage, but it hurts him all the more when your fingers are still for a moment, your eyes finding his own, as you stare at him.

“You’re—” you cut off, and you don’t protest, you don’t argue — you only ask one question — “Why?”

And that one question was more difficult to answer than any other you could have asked, a sigh stuck in his throat, as he shook his head.

“I can’t do this anymore — I haven’t wanted to since—” he cuts off, mouth impossibly dry — it was easy to tell Yaga he wasn’t going to continue, even easier to take care of half a dozen grade 2 curses at once — but this was— “I can’t stand by and watch my colleagues die one by one beside me — I don’t want to live like this. I’m sorry—”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Kento,” his heart squeezes at the sound of your voice wrapped around his name — what you had taken to calling him recently — “as long it’s what you want. I know it’s been difficult—I was surprised you hadn’t left when—” and your voice falters, neither of you could bear to bring up his name, refusing to even utter it around the other — as if it would summon every horrible memory from that time—and your voice is soft, “I just want you to be happy,”

And there’s nothing more than he wanted to be the one to make you happy — nothing more than he wanted to ask you to be by his side, let him be the one to take care of you, and nothing more he wanted than to ask you to leave with him—

But that was the one thing he could never ask you to do.

Just as you would never ask him to stay for you.

“I want you to be happy too,” he murmurs, as you continue to clean his cut, before your fingers are moving to grab the bandages, slowly beginning to wrap them around his palm, “more than even myself,”

“What’s new?” he wrinkled his brow, and you chuckle, “I mean, you never put yourself first, and I’m glad you are now. You deserve to be happy, even if it’s not….here,” and you finish bandaging his hand, but his fingers curl around yours, “Ken—“

He squeezes your hand softly and his words are just as soft, “You would be the only one who could ever make me happy,” and he hears your breath catch, and it only makes him want to steal it from your lips with his own, “because I know that being by your side would be only thing that could satisfy me,”

Your fingers brush against his cheek, “Too bad I’m apparently in love with Gojo—“ you tease, all too pretty smile as you do, and his lips draw even closer, “Kento—“

“And if you’re so in love with Gojo, why are you here with me?” And he waits, waits for you to pull away, to stop him, to show any indication you didn’t want this—

But you close the gap instead, lips barely brushing his, so chaste, and yet it’s a spark to kindling — a fire neither of you should have lit. And yet, his lips find yours, insistent, his fingers cup your cheek, featherlight touch drawing a shiver down your body that he relishes in.

“Kento—“

“Why is it my name on your lips?” And he kisses you again and again, your noses brushing each other’s, he’s murmuring your name like a prayer, and if it was, he would worship at your altar each day, “Why it is that you’re kissing me?”

And your lips curl against his, as they find his again, “You kissed me first,” and he can taste the sweetness of the melon bread you had shared with him that morning, but something even sweeter that only be you, “so why did you do that?”

But you knew why — especially from the smile gracing your features, one that he wished he could have etched in the inside of his mind, “Isn’t it obvious?” and your lips part to answer, but he cuts you off with another brush of your lips, “I love you,”

And your eyes widen only slightly, but you’re kissing him again, arms curling around his neck, fingers sliding behind his neck — “Figured that out when you got jealous of Gojo, but I’m glad you admitted it,” and your forehead finds his, “and that I love you too,”

You loved him — you loved him — he had to tell himself again and again, but he still couldn’t fathom it. Was it a dream? You were always a dream to him — something he could nearly grasp with his fingers, but always remained just out of reach.

And now he held you in his hands and he never wanted to let go. But he had to — he knew he had to.

So he would — even if it would hurt — hurt that no bandage would fix.

He kissed you again, unless you were the one to place it.

“Why is it that I always find you like this?” Nanami’s eyes slowly met yours — he sat in Ieiri’s office, waiting to be seen, only find you there in the doorway instead, “it’s as if you’re asking to be patched up by me, Kento,”

How long had it been? And somehow he knows the answer before even thinking about it — it had been nearly a decade. A decade since the two of you had graduated — you moving to Kyoto to help run the campus there, while he had moved onto a regular college and then a corporate job — one that had nearly sucked his soul dry of any life he had to begin with. And it was only when he had received gratitude for the first time in a long time — that he remembered the reason he had stayed a jujutsu sorcerer after Haibara…

And now, here was the other.

He murmurs your name, nearly sounding foreign on his lips, “How did you—”

“I ran into your student, Nanamin,” and he furrows his brow at the nickname — Itadori’s little name for him after he had refused to be his sensei. Because he wasn’t one — Gojo may have taken up the mantle of teacher for his own personal ego trip — but he wasn’t ready to form relationships like that. And yet…his lips curl, there you were, “didn’t think you wanted to be a teacher,”

“I don’t, but how can I refuse that white haired idiot?” he half grumbled with a sigh, eyes still slowly grazing over you, “but I don’t want to talk about him right now,”

You draw a step closer, shutting the door behind you, a lilt in your voice as lovely as your grin, “Then what do you want to talk about?” and you stop right in front of him, as your fingers reach out, and he’s nearly leaning into your touch, but he’s wincing, as your fingers press against his bruised body, “because I want to talk about how you ended up in such rough shape,”

A sigh stuck in his throat, his next words nearly along with it, “It could have been much, much worse,” he murmurs, “if Itadori wasn’t there, I—” he breaks off, “that special grade — he could touch my soul and it had caught me in its domain—”

And your arms are pulling you into a tight hug, your fingers running through his hair, “But you’re here, you’re okay,” you murmur softly, your palm pressed against his chest, you can feel his heart pump under your fingers, “you made it,”

“But—”

“But nothing, Kento, you’ll make it back every time,” your fingers cup his cheek, pressing your forehead against his, “right?”

Your touch was the only thing that could truly make him feel whole again — as if every crack in his soul had been mended with gold, “how do you know?”

And your lips curl into a soft smile, your head tilting ever so slightly, “Because you love me, right?”

The chuckle on his lips is nearly enough to bite back his nerves as the words leave his lips, “I’ve loved you for years, sweetheart, that’s nothing new,”

You’re shaking your head, “And all these years, we always found our way back to the other, right?” your hand finds purchase on his shoulder now, the other against his cheek, “so we just have to keep doing that,”

“You make it sound so simple,” he murmurs, and your lips find his — and it makes him wonder how he had spent so much time without your touch, because right now it was the only thing keeping him whole — stealing the doubts from his head and the aches from his body — leaving only heat filling the empty gaps left behind.

“It is simple,” your hand interlaces with his, “if we let be.”

~~~

“I’m starting to think you hurt yourself on purpose around me more now that we’ve moved in together,” you examine the small cut on his finger, a nick from the knife that the ratio sorcerer had been using to slice his freshly baked loaf of bread. Scarlet slipped from the small cut, and his soft murmur of ‘ouch’ unfortunately had not gone unheard by you. He swore you must have selective hearing — you wouldn’t listen when he told you to go to bed, but you’d hear him hiss in pain under his breath even when half asleep on

“It’s not too deep, I think just a bandage should be fine,“ Your brow knit together as you purse your lips, and he bit back his smile, knowing it would only serve for him to get scolded for not being more careful.

“It’s nothing, love, I can take care of it—“ and his breath catches when your lips find their way around his finger, sucking slightly to ease the bleeding, your tongue flicking over the cut, “sweetheart—“ he swears under his breath, a distinct flush burning at the crown of his cheeks, “what—“

“They say saliva can help a cut heal faster,” you smile, before pulling a bandage out of the first aid kit you had pulled out, and your lips press a sweet kiss to his cut again, a smirk as you meet his gaze, “Ken—”

And he’s kissing you, your body tenses a moment only to melt into his touch, your arms wrapping around his neck — he can taste his blood on your lips, raking your fingers through his hair. He can only think about getting closer, closer, closer — he needs you. His hands slide down your back, until they find your hips, squeezing, as he presses himself to you.

“Baby,” you murmur breathlessly, as your lips part his, a gasp that turns to a soft moan when his lips press heated kisses down your jaw. His nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, as he presses you against the counter of his apartment, his hands slide down, large palms grasping your ass, “I need—”

“What do you need?” his fingers sneaking up and down the sides of your body. His teeth graze your pulse, your head falls back, exposing more of your neck to him, as his tongue soothes the mark he left behind, “because you know I’ll give you anything you ask for, sweetheart,”

And his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he lifts you onto the counter, calloused palms pressing your legs apart — but he barely has to, your thighs already spreading for him. And he finds your shorts nearly soaked through — your drenched cunt visible even through the two layers of fabric stuck together from your arousal.

But you don’t need to ask for him to know what you want — it’s second nature, it’s instinct for his fingers to dip inside the waistband of your shorts and underwear alike, tugging them both down, until you were kicking them off.

“Is all this for me?” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to your inner thigh, as two fingers graze down your slit, gathering your pre on his fingertips, before he meets your gaze only to lick his fingers clean, “I was never one for sweets — except when it came to you. Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,”

Your head lolls back, as his thick fingers circle your clit with practiced ease, pulling back only to drag his tongue up the length of your needy cunt. And your eyes find his again, heady gaze heavy with need and his pretty lips and chin already glossy with your juices.

“Kento—fuck,” your fingers thread through his blonde locks. First, one finger sinks in and then another —

his nose bumping against your clit as his tongue stretches your walls in tandem with your fingers, grinding against his face, “s’good, I can’t—“

But he’s relentless, the wet squelch of your messy walls and your choked out moans ring in his ears and are nearly enough to make him cum right in his pants — already far too tight, blood rushing downwards far too quick.

Another

“Such a good girl,” Kento murmurs, and you are, so perfect — “just let me take care of you,”

“Kento, please, more, need—“ and his lips find your clit, tongue flicking against the hardened bud, before sucking long and hard, while a third finger joins the other two. Your back arches, the coil in your stomach grows tighter and hotter — your slick dripping from your messy hole onto the counter.

His fingers squeeze at your flesh, and he could live between your legs forever — it could be his meal morning, noon, and night — he could spend hours lapping at you until you fell apart over and over. His fingers stretch you out far too deliciously, and your walls are giving that telltale flutter.

“Kento—g’nna cum—I—“ and his fingers are fucking you harder and his lips close around your clit, sucking hard, until you’re moaning his name, muscles growing tight as you fall apart. You’re a mess, your fingers trying to press his head impossibly closer as you grind against him, riding out your orgasm, as your juices gush over his face — and he’s lapping up every drop, as you fall limp against the counter, his arm slipping around your back to support you.

Your eyes flutter open to watch him pulling away with a pop, strings spit and cum connecting you to your cunt. His gaze drags over you, watching your juices drip against the counter, as he murmurs quiet praises, licking his lips clean of your release.

And your fingers find his cheeks, pulling him into a deep kiss, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips, the filthiness of it all enough for his cock to grow even harder against your thigh. And it’s a matter of moments, before your fingers are tugging at his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his erection, his pretty cock all but ready for you — lovely ruddy head dripping with pearly white beads of precum.

“Look at what you do to me, love,” he murmurs, as your eyes meet his, gaze blown out in lust.

“Kento, please,” and his lips curl, his fingers raking through your hair, as he pulls you even closer, his erection bumping against your sopping pussy, “I want—“

He drags his cock over your slit, watching his pre mix with your release, the two of you groaning when his tip catches on your clit, “what do you want sweetheart? Tell me, tell me what you need,” his arms are hooked around your knees, pressing them to your chest.

You keen when his tip teases your sopping hole, “I need you to fuck me—“ and you’re whining as his cock pressed into you, splitting you open on his length — and god you could never get used to how big he was — you could feel very pretty vein and delicious curve—

Fuck, he could bust just looking down at you, at the way your lips parted for him as he had sunk into you, the way he could see how your pussy stretched around his dick — like you were made for him. Pleasure ripped up his spine at the sight — his fingernails digging crescents into your hips.

And he knew that he was certainly made for you.

“S’good, s’full — please,” you’re nearly mewling, begging for him to move, “Kento—“ and he obliges, unable to hold back any longer, as he begins to slowly rock his hips against you, each stroke getting longer and deeper. His balls slap against your hips, as he picks up the pace — your walls squeezing around him.

“Fuck, sweetheart, didn’t think you could get any tighter,” he grunts, his cock stuffed inside your walls, and he’s gritting his teeth, your soft moans and the noises of your pretty pussy becoming too much for him. White ring of release formed around his base — his balls growing tight as he inches closer and closer to blow his load, “you always can f’me, can’t you?”

And he gives a particularly hard thrust, right as his lips find yours in a messy, sloppy kiss — all tongue and teeth, your head falls back when his tip finds your g-spot again and again. You squirt all over his length, soaking him and the counter with your release, as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again. Your toes curl when he finally comes, his release painting your walls with his thick, hot release — fucking it deeper and deeper, and he’s notching himself inside.

You’re slumping against him, your eyes shut, as he pulls you closer into his arms, pressing sweet kisses all over your face until he finds your lips again.

“I love you,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open as he cups your chin, a soft smile on his lips.

“I love you more,” and he’s slowly lifting you, carrying you over to your shared bed, and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“But what about your cut?” You mumble, and a chuckle on his lips, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, as he sets you down on the bed, grabbing a damp washcloth to clean you up.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ve done plenty,” he murmurs, as he finishes cleaning you up, only to slip into bed beside you — “let me take care of you.”

~~~

It was over.

That’s what Nanami had thought when Mahito had stopped him in his tracks, his hand pressed against his chest, but more importantly, against his soul.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Nanami said, his eyes unable to tear away from the curse’s.

He could barely feel anything anymore — the stinging had dulled somewhere between his trek down the winding tunnels of Shibuya station. Instead, he could only hear the echo of his footsteps, as he had forced himself to take one step forward over and over and over — and that’s when he had seen them.

The congregation of curses or mutated humans — he didn’t know which they were, but did it really matter at this point? It didn’t. He dispatched them all the same — all while his thoughts were only filled of you — you, you, you and you.

And a beach in Malaysia.

“Yeah, Kuantan would have been nice,” and it would have been — it was only a few months away. The vacation the two of you had meticulously planned out. The days spent out walking the beach, lounging by the water with the books neither of you had never read, and nights falling asleep by each other’s side to the metronome of the waves crashing.

And now, he had found himself, staring death in the face — an echo of his near death from only a few months ago. How had it come to this already? He had always felt he was running out of time — constantly watching the clock, trying to run it out for his retirement, only for it to run out before he could make it to those sandy shores he had dreamed of.

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

Nanami’s eyes fall to the floor, the dirtied and bloodied tiles underneath his feet — he didn’t feel like spilling his guts to a curse.

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 Haibara, appearing in front of him, patented smile on his lips, as he points south — points right at—

“Itadori,” Mahito says.

“Nanamin!” his eyes wide as he takes in his state — horror painted on his face, already so helpless — what else had he seen and now he had to see this too? He shouldn’t have had to see this. He should have been a normal kid — worrying about normal things — not fighting monsters in some damned subway tunnel.

But what could he do about what now? What could he do but stop?

Could he finally stop?

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—“

And then there’s a crash — screaming, the sound of blood splattering. It takes him a minute to realize it wasn’t him.

It was you.

You had crashed between the two of them, sending the curse flying with your cursed energy, the impact drawing blood from you and Mahito alike. Your arm was around his body — and Nanami is whispering your name.

“I told you, Kento, we’re always going to come home — even if I have to drag you there,” you say, your eyes still flickering between Itadori and Mahito, “Itadori, tske Nanami—“

“No, this is my fight,” he shakes his head, his fingers clenched into fists, “I almost let Nanamin die — I have to do this—“

“Yuji—“ you say, but he’s already barreling towards Mahito, and you’re whispering fuck, as you take Nanami in the opposite direction.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” and his eyes are barely able to stay open, as you help carry his weight alone the deserted subway, “I’m sorry—“

“Why are you sorry—“ but he’s barely awake along enough to hear your question, until it’s all black.

It takes him several months to recover. Cursed energy healing could only do so much, especially since Ieiri was spread thin enough with everything between Shibuya, the Culling Games, and everything else that came after.

Most of the brunt of his care had fallen on you — you changed his bandages, tended to his wounds, dealt with any signs of infection with help from Ieiri, and handled everything else around the house.

“Why do you do all of this for me?” He asks quietly, one day while he sits, your back turned while you washed the dishes from lunch — the clinking of plates and the sound of water running that squeaks shut when he asks.

You turn, lips in a frown, “what do you mean, Kento?”

His fingernails dig into his knee, biting back a sigh, as you walk over after wiping your hands off, “it’s been months of you just…taking care of me. I don’t get it — I didn’t understand when we were students when you insisted on caring for me, and now…” he swallows, his throat still impossibly dry—even after all treatment, nothing still tasted the same, “I’ve just become a burden—“

You cup his cheeks, “Kento, you are never a burden to me—“

“But—“

“But nothing — wouldn’t you do the same for me if I was in your position?” But he’s shaking his head.

“It’s not—“

“Kento, do you remember our first mission together?” he blinks, his brow furrowing, but you only smooth it with your fingers, “it was my first mission — I had barely gotten the hang of using cursed energy — I hadn’t even exorcised a curse before, but as always, jujutsu society had left children to bear the burden of survival amongst themselves,” and your fingers find his, “but you never left me alone. I froze in front of the curse. I didn’t know what to do with myself — even while you dealt with two others on your own — you still managed to save me, even though you managed to hurt yourself in the process,” your voice was soft, your hand finding his, lacing your fingers with his, squeezing his hand — but he’s not sure whether it’s to remind him you’re here or to remind yourself that he’s still here, “and you don’t remember it do you?” his lips purse, as his eyes can’t find yours, gaze cast downwards, but he hears you give a soft chuckle.

“I look at you and I see all the ways a soul can bruise — because you’ve taken hits that weren’t yours to take — you’ve taken challenges that shouldn’t have been yours to bear,” your fingers skim over his cheeks, “even in what you thought were your last moments,” your voice breaks, swallowing back tears, “your thoughts were of others — of helping your students, of Itadori, of me—” you shake your head, “and you think I’m doing too much for you? I think you deserve so much more than me—“

“All I need is you,” his voice is breaking, swallowing thickly, “that’s all I ever wanted,”

“Then just stay here with me — that would be enough for me,” you lean close and press your lips to his — and even still, the taste of your kiss was never any less sweet, “all I want is to come home to you, you think you can handle that?”

His lips find yours again, as they always would, “I’ll show you.”

~~~

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” and Nanami chuckles, his hands hooked around your knees and thighs, as your arms wrapped around his neck, your head resting on one of his shoulders, “Kentoooo, you don’t have to—“

“I want to, and I’m not going to risk it getting any worse by letting you walk on the sand — the sunset was painting the water in hues of gold, pinks, and purples — and the beauty of this beach was only made better by your presence, “just let me do this for you, love,” and you sigh, relenting, as you bury your face in the side of his neck.

“My husband is so doting, just a small cut on sea glass makes you this crazy?” and he shivers slightly, but it’s not from the slight sea breeze tickling his nose, but from your nose brushing against your neck, “are we headed back already?”

“How else will we treat your foot?” your hands slide over his bare skin — the skin still scarred as it always would be, an eye tucked away under an eyepatch — unable to be saved — but your husband was saved all the same, “unless Ieiri taught you how to used reversed cursed technique before our vacation,”

“It’s really not that bad—”

“Is this your first time being a patient?” and you pout, as he chuckles, vibration of his sweet laugh against your chest as you press yourself impossibly closer, especially when you see the looks of others as the two of you walk by.

“It’s embarrassing to be carried like this,” you murmur, “come on baby, I can walk the rest of the way,” but he only hums, casting a small glance over his shoulder.

“I like carrying you like this,” his lips curled in a smirk, “everyone knows you’re mine this way,” and your cheeks burn, and you kiss his cheek, pouting as you do, “we’ll be back on the beach soon enough — we have all the time in the world sweetheart,”

And you did — you bury your face in the side of his neck again — with him—

Always.

✧ a/n: this has been a long time coming!! i feel like with every one of these fics i'm never happy with them, but then they end up being better than i remember. apparently i just don't like my writing very much haha. i hope you guys enjoy <3 it's been so long since i wrote nanamin, so i hope it came out good <3

✧ taglist: @1angel-digits1, @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone, @freaky-show, @strangehuman101, @nanamis-baker, @hanxyy, @chosobeee, @luneriaa, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @forest-fruits-jam, @unorthodoxfaithxx, @caelestine-the-caelicatto, @kenmei, @somrou, @spider-fan72, @missukiyo

#sab [mlist]#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x you #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento fanfiction #nanami x you #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x reader

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miss-dollette · 5 months

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Simon "Ghost" Riley is a very big boy.

So, my husband is quite a tall guy (6'4"), so I have first-hand experience of what it's like to be in a totally different atmosphere with a lover. Since Ghost is such a huge guy, I decided to write some little headcanons of what it's like to be so much smaller than him.

Anyway, who else is putting serious overtime at work for Christmas??

TW: Unedited, a little spicy, size kink.

Big boy.

Very, very, VERY big boy.

Big boy, in every way possible.

Requires half an hour of foreplay before getting to the main course. Sometimes, even that's not enough.

Hands so large they could practically wrap around the back of your skull. He'd grabs you there, sometimes, and move your head to face him as he thrusts.

His fingertips can touch the tips of each other when he wraps his fingers around your throat.

Silver scars and sores from war litter his hands, and they're calloused like hell, too. Don't worry, he'll touch you so softly you won't even notice.

His whole hand covers the entire valley of your ass and upper thigh. God forbid he uses his full strength to slap your ass 'cause you won't be surviving.

Muscular but with a layer of fat. This man doesn't miss a meal, and theirs definitely no leftovers for the next day.

Works out like a bull. Before the sun even rises, he's in the backyard, lifting 50 pound/23 kilo dumbells over and over until he's practically dead. Then comes the mini marathon he does every day. By the time you make breakfast, he's already finished his Olympic level workout routine.

Playfully flexes for you when you compliment him.

He can definitely do this to you:

He loves holding both of your hands in his palm.

Veiny forearms that are to drool for. Ugh, seeing him with rolled up sleeves...

Doesn't fit in the shower. Has to lean down to wash his hair because he's practically touching the ceiling.

Has back pain. He will lay on the floor and tell you to walk on his back to soothe his sore muscles.

Would be arrested for attempted murder if he ever tried to do a trust fall with you.

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw2 #mw2 #cod mw3 #ghost x reader #call of duty #cod x reader #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost mw2

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verysium · 5 months

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attractive things bllk characters (unintentionally) do?👀

i received this ask and decided to write this entire thing through a caffeine-powered fever dream. may have gone a little overboard. please pray for both your sanity and mine. thank you anon for your strong sense of imagination (or delusion, whichever you prefer.)

nagi lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, and you accidentally (or not so accidentally) get a good look at the droplets running down his abs and v-line. he also does the doorway lean while waiting for you to get ready. since he's so tall, he puts his one arm up on the top of the door frame while scrolling through his phone. when he feels drained of energy, he clings to you like a koala, face buried into the crook of your neck.

rin pushes his hair back when his bangs get in the way, and it shows off his ridiculously sharp side profile. sometimes you have to pause mid-conversation because the direct eye contact gets too intense. he has the brightest turquoise eyes in existence, and they stare right into your soul. pair that with the height difference and him towering over you. hang onto your ovaries because this man is about to snatch them. if isagi or sae are anywhere remotely close within your vicinity, he will personally drag your chair closer over to him. you know, the whole nick jonas chair pull thing? he also unintentionally clenches his jaw when pissed, the vein popping out and everything.

barou is polite to his elders. he holds the door open for others. he tips extra at restaurants. he is kind to service workers. he's just a gentleman overall even though he likes to act tough. he rolls up his sleeves while cleaning or cutting up vegetables, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearms. wears those form-fitting aprons where you can see the outline of his waist and the muscles in his back. he is not immune to raging pit bull moments, but he will calm down immediately when you ask him to.

kaiser requires physical touch to function. all concept of personal boundaries goes poof in his little ego-driven brain. he holds your chin so you look up at him while he's talking. also has that husky growl when he wakes up in the morning. he speaks german. what else is more attractive than that? if you stroke his ego, he will puff his chest out like an emperor penguin and flash that movie star smile. does not slow down his pace for you, and will laugh at your expense when you trip in heels and fall. but then he feels guilty about it and begrudgingly picks you up and carries you home. however, before that he will make you swear on everything holy to never tell isagi about his moment of weakness. (tbh kaiser is a menace and has some serious self-esteem issues. pls avoid dating a man like him in real life until he is fully mature. i still love him tho.)

reo mansplains but not in the condescending way. he does so in the "omg i'm so excited to finally get to share something with you and you're never going to believe it" sort of way. rambles on and on about his interests and gets that little glint in his eye when he's passionate about something. also not sure if this counts but he gets extremely depressed when you don't message him back within five minutes. what do you mean you were busy? he was out here dying from a literal famine. he needs your affection to survive. last but not least, he is good at styling. he knows what colors work best for you, and he will put together three new looks for you in record time.

hiori dreams that you left him for good and wakes up crying with his arms around you. will refuse to let you leave the bed even if it is just to get a glass of water. his rare moments of emotional vulnerability are what gets to you.

shidou does not condone any of your bad decisions. you want to get shit-faced and party until early morning? no complaints from him. you want to wear sexy outfits to the club? say less because he's about to enjoy the view and knock out the front teeth of every guy who dares to ogle you. i don't know if this qualifies as being attractive, but he would never be the controlling type. you can dress and act however you want. unfortunately for you though, this is also a textbook case of the blind leading the blind. if you get horrendously hungover, so does he. if you get pulled over, he's going to be too blackout drunk to even comprehend the officer's words. you can count on him for a good time, but not anything else. do not take any of his advice at face value.

oliver likes to show you off even if he doesn't notice it himself. any talk with his team, and he will find a way to make the entire conversation about you. at this point, the entire u-20 team is done with him. they placed bets that you two wouldn't last more than a month due to his philandering reputation, but the universe seems to think otherwise because you and oliver hit the six-month mark and are still going strong.

ness guards your drink with an unnecessary amount of protection. while you left to go use the restroom, he was looking left and right, and the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling every time someone even came close to your cup. he also shoos away any person who opens their mouth while standing next to your drink because apparently the condensation from their breath could be dangerous. definitely covers your cup with both hands even if it has a lid. no suspicious shit is happening on his watch.

yukimiya is well-read, and he wears glasses. he has a copy of every single classic out there in existence and will fangirl along with you over your virginia woolf collection. he was written by a woman with two cats and a wine glass. not much else to say.

loki absolutely clears the entire carnival/arcade game. you want that giant teddy bear that costs over three hundred ticket points? say less because he's about to win the whole damn pot. of all characters, i would say he's one of the only green flags. like celery green.

isagi always looks for you when he enters the room. intentionally or not, he always seeks your presence. if someone says a funny joke, he turns to you to see if you're laughing or not. also does that somewhat creepy stare thing where he just looks at you quietly while you do mundane tasks. internally he is screaming cus what do you mean you actually like him?

chigiri gives you that thankful little smile whenever you stand up for him. i feel like people don't understand how goofy he can get as he's canonically good at doing impressions/impersonations. also has the prettiest laugh. if he ever cuts his hair, i think i'm going to get a nosebleed.

noa unconsciously says yes to every question you ask of him. he'd be giving bastard münchen a hard time (and denying isagi's requests) but then immediately once you come over, he's automatically acquiescing to everything you say. the rest of the team is low-key shocked you can win him over so easily. when they confront him about it, he just shrugs and goes "y/n is always right."

kurona's entire existence is attractive. he's just perfect. nothing is ever wrong with him. will let you check out his shark teeth and lightly pokes your finger to leave an imprint. hopefully you'll always remember him that way. he's also quiet so he will listen to everything you say and give ample weight to your words.

sae is my baby girl so he gets a whole section dedicated to himself:

absentmindedly plays with your hair. when you're sleeping in his lap, he'll gently run his fingers along your scalp. sometimes in the morning when you're sitting up on the edge of your bed to do your makeup, he'll come up from behind you and brush back your hair. might also press a kiss to the back of your neck.

helps you put on your face mask. when he's shopping, he will buy you lotion along with his own skincare products. says that it was just a convenient store run but you know he personally made sure to get you the best quality ones.

this is canon because i said so: when he gets out of the shower, he slings the towel over his neck or his shoulder. he also involuntarily flexes his biceps when he bends down to grab something. has the world's most defined deltoids.

when you're stuck in large crowds at the airport, he puts his hand in your back pocket to keep you two from getting separated. if the TSA pat-down is anywhere too personal for his liking, he will openly glare at the officer once you've passed the security checkpoint.

bonus point: when you two brush your teeth early in the morning, he has that little bed head where his shorn-off bangs stick up in cute little tufts here and there. will have a dead look on his face, but his eyes soften when he catches your gaze through the mirror.

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