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luminialib · 2 months

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I CRIED. SOBBED.

"Itadori-kun. Good. You're on time."

Kento checked his watch, clearly distracted, as Yuuji approached with pocketed hands. The shopping centre was bustling, a hive of activity around them. Yuuji ruffled his own hair, unsure.

"Yeah, I just...wasn't sure why we're meeting here, is all."

Still distracted, Kento tapped off a message, before slipping his phone back into his inner pocket. He rarely offered smiles when there was business yet to be done, and today was no different.

"I was hoping for your assistance with a few errands before your school term ends. I'm sure you'll be busy with your friends after then, and I shouldn't like to take your vacation time. I'm sure you're looking forward to the break."

In truth, Yuuji deflated just at the thought of it; though he was an orphan amongst orphans, he didn't favour empty time in the way he used to, with memory and the devil as his constant companions. Still he smiled.

"Yeah! Can't wait. Got...got loads planned."

Kento read Yuuji, shrewd for a moment, before hyper-focusing on the task at hand.

"Quite. Come along, Yuuji."

Yuuji grew more and more flummoxed as Kento's list of errands tickered out before them. Too polite to question why, and with absolute faith that Kento had good reason to drag him along for the ride, Yuuji stomached it all with confused good grace.

Yuuji blinked, momentarily blinded by the flash of light in the photo booth. He grinned for the next photo, and Kento's cool deep voice rumbled past the curtain.

"No smiling, Yuuji."

"H-huh? How did you know?"

"Was I wrong?"

"Uh...sorry, Nanamin."

As a strip of tiny poe-faced photos clicked into the dispenser, Yuuji couldn't understand why Nanamin was so satisfied by such bland pictures. Yuuji was, however, touched; clearly Nanamin liked wallet photos as he liked his suits-- beige. Kento clipped across Yuuji's thoughts.

"Do you like the beach, Yuuji?"

Yuuji blinked. "The beach...?"

"Yes. The beach. Do you like it?"

"Uh...I guess. Why?"

Kento hummed, satisfied, not answering Yuuji's question. Instead, as he passed Yuuji his coffee, he stood and leaned around Yuuji, gently pulling at the back of Yuuji's collar. Yuuji twisted to look, baffled now, and Kento released him, sitting with another satisfied hum. He tapped on his phone again.

"Your identification documents are in your room at Jujutsu High?"

"Nanamin...what's this about?"

"It's important to take care of your documents, Yuuji."

"...so you're just...checking up on me?"

Kento smiled, polite. "Of course." A pause. "I assume you'd like to come back to ours for dinner?"

Yuuji brimmed with unasked questions. "I don't need to-- I'm not really that hungry-- honestly a coffee is great--"

"Mrs.Nanami has cooked extra."

"God, yes, please, I'm starving."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The summer vacation approached Yuuji like a black cloud. He could not bring himself to be excited for enforced inactivity; his casual offers to assist staff on missions fell on deaf ears. Gojo laughed Yuuji off with a clap on the shoulder. Yuuji smiled away the gentle rejection; he did not have the stomach to beg to work.

Instead, Yuuji stewed, leaning on his rainy windowsill until cicada buzz replaced the pitter-patter of water on earth. Late July arrived, unwelcome, and Yuuji steeped in a pit of dread.

At 2am, on the first day of summer vacation, Yuuji's phone rang. Bleary-eyed, and flat, he looked away from his computer screen and lowered his headset. He looked at his screen with a lurching gut; he answered the phone.

"Nanamin?"

A voice, rusty with sleeplessness. "Ah, Yuuji. I apologise for waking you at this hour. I need help with a mission. Are you available?"

Yuuji perked up immediately, tail wagging. "Y-yeah! Yeah, totally! I can be ready...er...in ten? Yeah?"

Kento's voice smiled. "Good. I'll pick you up."

Yuuji danced from his desk chair, shaking off his joggers and wriggling into his uniform with a grin, ruffling his hair before the mirror. In barely two minutes, he was ready, a spring in his step as he headed to wait outside. He felt so light, so relieved, and he grabbed his keys, opening his door to--

"Oh, shi--...Nanamin?"

Kento stood at the door, comfortable in loose clothes, and...sandals? It was an odd contrast to the backdrop of night, and Kento's usual attire. Kento smiled again, polite.

"Yes. Are you ready?"

"Y-yeah, I'm...how did you get here so fast?"

"The roads are quiet at this time of night, Yuuji."

A pause. "...Nanamin."

"Yuuji."

"Are you fucking with me?"

"Language."

When Yuuji opened his mouth to argue back, his jaw dropped, as you bustled up the corridor behind Kento with a sleepy grin on your face. You slapped Kento's elbow, shooting him a chastising look.

"Morning, Yuuji! Excited?" You pressed a kiss to his cheek, whirling past to invade his bedroom. Yuuji was speechless, horribly confused.

Kento checked his watch as you bustled around. Tapped his foot as you bustled around. Tutted, and leaned pointedly round the corner to stare at you as you bustled around.

"Darling, we're going to be la--"

"--don't give me attitude, Kento, we are about 6 hours early, and you know it--"

"--it pays off to check-in ahead of schedule--"

"--hush. I'll have words with you later."

Kento bristled, pugnacious. You walked out of Yuuji's room with his rucksack in hand. You pinched his chin, gesturing him along with your hand.

"Come on, Yuuji. Before Mr.Organised has conniptions."

Yuuji felt himself swept along by Kento, who still scoffed, mulish. The night air smelled sweet, and Yuuji found himself gently bodied into the back seat of Kento's car.

"--Nanamin-- I don't understand--"

You shot Kento a pointed look from the passenger seat. At first frowning, then with dawning realisation, you scolded Kento in disbelief.

"...you haven't told him."

Kento almost smirked as he rolled the car away over gravel. "I don't know what you mean."

You looked from Kento, to Yuuji, and back again. You reached slowly into Kento's bag, rummaging. Yuuji felt a glossy little book pressed into his hands.

"...a...passport?"

"...Kento didn't tell you."

Never one for expecting a gift, Yuuji couldn't see one when placed before his eyes. "Tell me what? Nanamin?"

Kento chuckled to himself, his eyes glimmering at Yuuji in the rearview mirror.

"Our flight is at 10:30, Yuuji."

Yuuji peered into the seat beside him; a new suitcase, neatly labelled with a luggage tag in his name. He yanked it to the seat beside him, unzipping it, and finding it full of new swimsuits, t-shirts, shorts, sandals, everything he could possibly need. He opened the glossy new passport in his hands, and hiccupped, his breath catching in his chest.

Yuuji rammed into realisation with prickling eyes, and a quiet sniffle, his eyes hidden in the dark. His reply was thick, stilted.

"Our flight...to where?"

"Malaysia. Now give me back that passport. You'll only lose it."

#🍥: fic recs #nanami kento x reader

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luminialib · 2 months

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I love him. 😢

Nanami is more of a listener than a talker, and would happily listen to you ramble on and on about anything that would pop into your mind. And no matter how little it really concerns him, he’ll always pay attention to when you explain something so enthusiastically — even if it’s a silly internet trend or drama.

Nanami is definitely not the guy to have TikTok, but would on occasion lift his attention from his book when you’re both laying in bed to quietly watch along for a few minutes.

Nanami is not the type of guy to really form any defining opinion on said internet controversies — except the videos of grooms disrespecting their brides at the alter in their vows. When you tell him about the men who only spew vulgar statements to their future wives, you witness Nanami get incredibly angry, going on a long and serious tangent about how these boys are immature and have no business getting married at all.

Nanami is the type of guy who would spontaneously pull you out of the chair in the calm hours of the evening to slow dance with you around the living room. Sometimes he’d put on some calm and beautiful melodies to play in the background, but sometimes he would just slow waltz without the music, casual chatter filling the void instead.

Nanami is the type of guy who’d pull your feet in his lap to massage them after a long day, without you asking for it.

Nanami is the type of guy who looooves to cook for you, and he does it as often as he possibly can. And when he does, he loves to feed you small bites during the process for you to taste everything.

Nanami is, of course, a respectable man — meaning he doesn’t engage all that much in pda. But he’ll happily walk beside you with your fingers intertwined with his, or he’ll have a tender hand on the small of your back to guide you when has to let go.

Nanami however, has one physical need and that is kissing the back of your hand, which he will do wherever and whenever. Walking the grocery store; lift your hand to his lips. Meeting up for lunch; lift your hand to his lips. Waiting in line for a restaurant; lift your hand to his lips.

Nanami is the type of guy that would love being a girl’s dad. It would be the highlight of his day to come home from work, only to squeeze into one of her small chairs in her bedroom and would put on the most convincing act of sipping tea from the empty cup, a pretty tiara at the very top of his head.

Nanami is the type of guy who would love planning the wedding along with you. He hates the idea of loading all the responsibility on the bride, because he wants to celebrate your love just as much as you do.

Nanami is the type of guy, who once he falls in love, he’s settled.

#🍥: fic recs #nanami kento x reader

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luminialib · 1 year

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hi rylie!! thank you sm for the recs! and since you said your inbox is open …

could i maybe request a fic where nanami proposes to you? like a spur of the moment thing where it’s not really the “right time” but he just springs out the question bc he wants you forever 🥹😮‍💨

thank you a bajillion! <3

my everything

FEATURING: nanami kento x f!reader — wc: 3.1k

SUMMARY: after nanami remembers how short life can be, he realizes he wants to spend the rest of his with you.

CONTENTS: takes place during jjk 0, slight angst per usual, marriage proposals, sorcerer!reader, nanami's pov, happy ending

note: thank you for this sweet request!! i kind of took it and ran w it, but this was so much fun to write :) i hope you enjoy lovely!! <33

Kento couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so afraid.

The gnawing feeling of dread was as heavy as the ring in his pocket, the one that he now regretted hanging onto for so long. Shinjuku streets were drenched in the blood of so many curses, humans, and sorcerers and it sickened him, reminded him that life could be cut short at any moment. There was a reason that he’d quit Jujutsu so many years ago, and he started to wonder if he’d made the right decision in coming back.

Kento sorted through the bodies, scanned the mangled corpses for any sign of your familiar face. He never spotted you, but he wasn’t certain if it was a relief that you were nowhere to be found.

Satoru stood at the edge of the street, his forehead lined with sweat, the pale bandages falling away from his icy eyes. Briefly, he dropped the façade that always lingered, and it was obvious how tired he was. How much everything had beaten him down in the last decade and refused to let up.

In that moment, Kento felt sorry for him. Then, Satoru resumed his usual air of arrogance, straightened his back, and the natural balance fell between them once more.

In just a few strides, Kento was upon him, his hair unruly, shirt wrinkled as the tie remained still crumpled around his hand. His muscles ached and he longed for a shower—though any of those trivial thoughts were outweighed by his incessant need to find you.

“Where is she?” The words hung in the air before Kento realized they’d left his lips at all.

Satoru hesitated, almost unwilling to hand over his confession so easily. “I sent her back to the school.”

Kento clenched his fists, but Satoru was defending himself before any irrational actions could be taken.

“She insisted, Nanami.”

Still, he couldn’t help but wish that Satoru had ignored your pleas, even if Kento was unsurprised that you’d volunteered to stand by the students’ side. You weren’t the type of person to let a few first and second years go up against a special grade on their own, no matter how strong they were.

Satoru was squeezing Kento’s shoulder before he had even noticed the movement. Something in his expression had darkened, and though Kento normally would’ve shoved him off, put some distance between the two of them, he wasn’t sure he could remember a time when Satoru Gojo looked so somber. “I wouldn’t have sent them there if I wasn’t certain they’d be alright. I’m not as cruel as you might think.”

Kento knew that he had never behaved warmly towards his ex-classmate, but his opinion of the man was not as low as Satoru believed. For better or worse, Satoru loved his students, and though he pushed them, Kento knew he would never put them into an undefeatable danger.

He sighed, dropping his chin to his chest as Satoru’s hand fell away from his shoulder. “Just take me to her, Gojo.”

Satoru nodded, his lips curling down into a frown before he was teleporting them both back to the high school. There, the sight was even more dismal than Kento had expected. Many of the buildings had been destroyed and there were clear residuals from many sorcerers and curses. It was chaos, a grim sight to behold, and they weren’t even past the gate.

The anxiety twisted up in his chest, and inwardly, he prayed, hopeful that you were as fine as Satoru believed. That Geto, in every inch of his darkened heart, would hesitate when it came to killing an old friend.

“Hey,” Satoru said, tying up the blindfold once more, tightening it across his snowy hair. “She’s fine. This, I’m certain of.”

Kento’s lips were too dry to even offer a thank you, even though Satoru probably deserved it, for all the sacrifices he made, all the time. Instead, he nodded, and turned away from the tall man, haunted by a memory of him once as young as the students that had been left behind to protect humanity.

The leaves and gravel crunched under Kento’s feet as he ran up to the school, taking in the sheer destruction that had befallen the place he’d once called home. It made him ache with a longing for a simpler time, even though he could never go back, and the boy he’d been was long gone.

It was a brisk night—the kind of night that you normally would’ve spent bundled up inside, a bowl of hot soup between you, a movie running while you rested your head against Kento’s shoulder, dozing off before the credits rolled.

That’s how his night should’ve gone. Instead, he was searching every crushed piece of building, every pile of rubble in case your body had been caught between it.

Kento knew that the life of a sorcerer was a miserable one, that it was easy to lose the people you cared about, but he wasn’t certain he’d be able to go on for much longer if he lost you.

The ring was even heavier in his pocket, weighing him down, making it near impossible to move. If you hadn’t survived, Kento would never forgive himself for waiting so long to propose.

He called your name, ripping off his glasses in any attempt to see you better, wondering where you could’ve disappeared to, hoping that you hadn’t died alone.

The grounds, it seemed, had been hollowed out completely, and for the first time, Kento wondered if Gojo was wrong about his old friend.

Panic clawed up his chest, scratching at his throat, sending him into an illogical spiral before a small, shaky voice from behind him brought him back to reality, a light that parted through the black night, so sweet and heavenly to his ears.

“Kento?”

He turned, blinked as you swayed on your feet, making your way slowly down the steps of the main building. You walked awkwardly on your ankle, though you pushed on, heading towards him despite the pain.

For a moment, he watched, and then he was upon you without even acknowledging his movements, two long strides that brought him back to his salvation.

Kento pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair, breathing in the undeniable truth that you were still alive, even as you winced from his stronghold, your arms limp at your sides.

“Fuck,” Kento said, kissing you on the top of the head, your hairline, forehead. His eyes were glossy with tears that had been held back by his remaining shreds of hope. “You scared me there for a second, sweetheart.”

Your hands were on his chest, tracing his bicep before you curled your fingers around his jaw, bringing his gaze to your own. The touch was light, searching for any wounds that hid under his stained button-up. “I’m okay,” you said, softly, even though your face was bruised, your ankle twisted, and you were bleeding from more places than one. “Are you?”

Kento nearly laughed, wondering how you could even think to ask that question when he was untouched compared to you. Though, the amusement died immediately when you looked at him with so much concern that he melted, and he squeezed your hand in reassurance. “I’m okay.”

You nodded, expression serious as you attempted to ingrain the words into your mind, convince yourself that everything would be alright, even though things hadn’t been that way in nearly a decade. You kept your hands on him, as if waiting for some wounds to appear, for him to start bleeding into your palm, even though his injuries went no further than some sore muscles.

“And everyone else?”

Kento pulled you into his chest, running a hand up and down your back, wishing that he could heal you as easily as Shoko could, that a gentle touch could fix everything that had ever soiled your life. “Everyone’s fine,” he said, and as far as he knew, that was true. “A little beat up, but they’re alive.”

You exhaled, nodding into his chest as you rested your weight on him.

Kento would gladly bear it, would carry you all the way home if need be.

Briefly, you were silent, before you squeezed your eyes shut painfully and grimaced. “I got the students to Shoko, but they were all so hurt, so badly,” you swallowed, digging your fingers into his shirt, and Kento suddenly hated that Satoru hadn’t sent him with you, even if he was needed in the city. “Geto—”

You stopped yourself, and said nothing more, heartbroken by a boy you had too many fond memories of to ever see in a malicious light. It was difficult for everyone who’d ever known him back then, even if he hadn’t been that way in a decade.

Kento swallowed and you pushed away your tears, buried whatever conversation had transpired earlier between you and the dark-haired sorcerer.

Though, you’d resolved to be everything that Geto was not. That, at least, had been one positive outcome of his betrayal. “It’s not your fault, love.”

“I should’ve been more prepared to kill him, Kento. I’m not as strong as him, but I should’ve been able to hold him off until Gojo—” You choked back a cry before standing straight, shaking your head. “I tried too hard to reason with him. I left it to a student, and—”

“Hey,” Kento held your cheeks tight in his palms, forcing you to gain a better perspective of the situation. You looked up at him with soft, lost eyes, and Kento was filled with a swell of adoration for you, for the strength that came with the vastness of your heart.

Despite all you’d suffered, you’d managed a smile, been the light in Kento’s life, even when he’d wanted to do nothing but wallow in his own misery. If not for you, he wasn’t sure he ever would’ve come back to being a sorcerer at all. If not for you, Kento would’ve been lost, without an ounce of meaning in his life.

You were so foolish for thinking you hadn’t done enough, when you’d done more for him than he could put into words. Kento’s love for you was enormous, and in that moment, he would’ve let the rest of the world collapse in on itself if it meant you’d be safe and happy.

“Any of us would’ve done the same. Do you really believe that Gojo would’ve so easily killed Geto without speaking to him first? Would I have?”

The look didn’t dissipate from your irises, but you didn’t disagree with him, and that was enough. Kento kissed you, deeply, putting every ounce of affection into that single touch. Everyone had made it out of the night alive, and you’d been there for the students when it mattered the most. That was more than he could say, at least.

“I don’t want to lose anyone else, Kento,” you said, blinking at him once more with those sad eyes, ones that he never wanted to see on your normally bright expression. “I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t tear me apart.”

“You won’t lose me,” he promised, even though he knew that there was no way he could keep it, an oath that was almost destined to be broken. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You and I both know that you can’t be sure of that,” you said, backing out of his embrace to wrap a protective arm around yourself. The smile that graced your lips was sad, defeated. “Our world is not merciful enough.”

Kento knew that better than anyone, and he’d been reminded of it that evening. Reminded of the loss that befell those who wanted to fight for a better world, and even those who didn’t. Death didn’t give any warning, didn’t choose based off anything more than a random draw. “Then I’ll promise to love you until the day I die. That, at least, is a vow I won’t ever break.”

The ring in his pocket was practically vibrating now, reminding him how little the non-necessities of life mattered to him. All this time, he been waiting for the perfect moment, to plan everything down to the very last detail.

It seemed meaningless now.

You squeezed his hand, your face brightening despite your sorrow, lips tugging up sideways. “I can promise the same.” Kento’s heart swelled, and you kissed his cheek before dragging him a few steps forward so the two of you were walking in time together. “We should go check on the students. I want Shoko to check my ankle too. I’ve suffered worse, but it’s starting to swell pretty badly.”

Kento nodded, though his mind was too busy whirling with fears of a wedding that might never happen, that you might never know he was going to propose if he didn’t do it soon. You could be snatched away from him at any moment, or perhaps, he could leave this world with the ring still in his pocket, and you’d only know once you found it on his corpse.

Kento wouldn’t forgive himself, even in death, if he didn’t do what he’d been wanting to do for months.

With one arm around your shoulder, he reached the other into his pocket, twirling the box. He wasn’t even sure why he carried it with him that night when he could’ve so easily lost it in the middle of battle.

Yet, there it was, lingering, the constant weight in his pocket that rested against his hip. He swallowed, and you looked up at him, your lips falling back once more into a frown.

“Hey,” you said, slowing your pace, concern evident in your expression. “Is something wrong? Did something happen in Shinjuku, Kento? I didn’t mean to just brush off—”

Kento shook his head, shushing you quickly. It didn’t take him long to make up his mind, and he wrapped the tiny box up in his hand. “Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of your head again before holding the box out, presenting it to you calmly, without any spike in his normal tone. “I just was thinking about how I was going to ask you to marry me.”

You stopped completely, your pupils blown wide as you took the box from him with shaky hands, blinking back down at it before meeting his tender brown eyes. “Kento?” you said again, calmly, as if waiting for him to explain.

A beat of silence passed between you. Kento, suddenly, felt nervous around you for the first time in a long while.

“Truthfully, I was going to prepare a long-winded speech and buy you some flowers and take you out for dinner. But,” he cleared his throat, regaining his composure as he flipped the lid of the velvety box, revealing the sparkling ring he’d spend hours searching for. “I love you too much to waste any more time. Somehow, until tonight, I’d forgotten how short life can be. I just want to spend every moment I can as your husband.”

Your eyes became glossy as you stared down at the beautiful gem, lifting the ring out of the box to slide onto your finger. As expected, it fit you perfectly, shimmering in the pale light, the perfect complement to your skin. Kento gently took your hand, kissing the knuckle right below the jewelry.

“I’ll propose again to you properly,” he said, laughing quietly, though if it was because of your silence or the joy lodged within him, he couldn’t be certain. “Without all the blood and the—"

“Kento.” Your lips were on his before he could finish his sentence, harsh and passionate despite your injuries. Fingers curled around his chin, holding him into place, making him forget all the horrors that had occurred that evening. “Don’t be silly. I don’t need a grandiose display to know I want to be with you forever. I love you too much.”

Kento’s chest warmed, that bundle of affection within him bursting, making its way through every ounce of his being. There, you seemed to glow brighter, every day making you more beautiful than before, and he wondered how it could be possible that he could feel so much for one person.

He relaxed, unknowingly tense, and kissed you again on the forehead, his arms around your shoulder once more. “I should’ve done it sooner.”

You smiled and caressed the harsh bones of his cheeks, shaking your head. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.” You laughed, pulling him down by the tie, pressing a kiss between his brows to ease the wrinkle there. “Besides, now you’ve turned this awful night into something special. I don’t have to remember this day with a bitter taste in my mouth.”

Kento returned your smile, but it was still weak, even with all of the adoration he felt for you.

Though, when you beamed at the ring, your eyes soft, all of the previous despair gone, he knew that everything would be alright. Perhaps his timing had been less than ideal, but he would do it over and over again if only to ease away the misery from your face.

“So, then you will marry me?” he said again, wanting to hear the words from your lips, even though there was no doubt in his mind.

You rolled your eyes playfully, noticing his teasing smile and indulged him. “Yes, Kento.” You kissed his cheek, letting out a sharp exhale. “I’ll marry you. I would’ve always said yes, even back when we were silly, lovesick teenagers.” You sighed theatrically, adjusting his tie. “Who knows why. You had such a ridiculous haircut back then.”

Kento’s cheeks grew warm, splitting with the force of his smile, one that only seemed to appear with you at his side. Despite all of the horrible things that had happened in all of your lives, he was grateful that there were good moments too.

“Well, I still managed to win over the prettiest girl in the world, didn’t I?” he said, ghosting the words as he laced his fingers with your own, squeezing tight. “Now I get to call her my fiancée.”

You mumbled something less than kind under your breath, but Kento could feel the warmth on your cheeks, the flush the began from your neck.

He laughed, continuing his path back to the infirmary, where the students were likely waiting for you to return safe and sound. “Come on, I’m taking you to see Shoko. I wouldn’t want my future wife’s injuries to get any worse, would I?”

And though the both of you knew your injuries were minimal, your eyes brightened as the skin around them wrinkled, and Kento knew that whatever happened after this, he would live and die a happy man.

#🍥: fic recs #nanami kento x reader

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luminialib · 1 year

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Is it a bare minimum??? 😧Nah, to him? It's the standard fr.

⟣ nanami kento doesn’t ever realise that he’s a complete gentleman. whenever he does something for you, it’s done out of pure instinct or love. therefore, kento gets a bit confused as to why you’re swooning over his little actions. to him it’s normal to help your partner—even when it comes to the smallest of things that one could easily solve on their own.

you could be walking down a staircase consisting of only three treads—just having your regular sneakers on—and kento will still go down the stairs first, holding out his hand for you to grab on while you descend.

or when you’re rambling to the blonde man about something whilst ignoring your surroundings in a crowded street. kento will have a protective hand on your waist and subtly pull you closer to him whenever a passer-by threatens to bump or even slightly brush against your arm. he does this while attentively listening to you and responding to your comments.

on rainy days he’ll be the one holding the umbrella you two share. the wind would sometimes be so strong that the water droplets still somehow land on your clothes. kento notices this whilst talking to you and tilts the umbrella over to your side, forming a protective layer against any rain from any direction and thus allowing his own shoulder and head to get wet—just for you to remain perfectly unharmed by any possible disturbance.

it isn’t often that you get on public transport with him, but when you do, he’s always looking out for you. if you’re standing in a packed train and there are no available seats, kento would automatically come to stand behind you, veiny hand on your hip, the other holding onto the handhold above your head. his entire body would engulf yours and prevent you from stumbling whenever the train makes an (abrupt) stop. he also uses his body to make room for you or shield you from getting trampled and squeezed between other people.

according to kento, it’s the bare minimum that he can do to show his unending love for you.

#🍥: fic recs #nanami kento x reader

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luminialib · 1 year

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cw: alcohol, reader is drunk, Nanami is a doting husband, kissing, suggestive dialogue, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, honey, good girl), use of daddy once

Author’s Note: Whoops, I’m afraid my Nanami brainrot is not over! Anyways, I got wine drunk yesterday and I was just imagining about how cute it would be for drunk!reader to come home to husband!Nanami. Enjoy! Banner by @/saradika.

You’ve got your arm draped across your best friend’s shoulders as she helps you stumble up the driveway to your house and towards the front door. She knocks with her free hand, waiting only several seconds before your husband answers, an amused grin on his face. “Thanks for bringing her home in one piece.”

She laughs, handing you off to him. “We almost found the bottom of the bottomless mimosas,” she jokes, waving farewell to the both of you, heading back to the car with the designated driver. Nanami watches them leave while you hang onto his shoulders for dear life.

He shuts the door behind him, carefully leading you into your home, bending down to remove your heels. You’re a wobbling mess, head hazy and body buzzing with intoxication from today’s brunch. One of infinite things you love about Nanami is how patient he is with you, even when you’re a useless lump, too uncoordinated to do the simplest things like this.

Now barefoot, you lean against him, using his entire body as support. He remains silent, a calm expression on his face, practically dragging you to the couch where he plops you down, kneeling before you to press the back of his hand to your cheek. He gives you a delicate smooch on the forehead before he stands up to walk to the kitchen. You hear the rushing sound of water from the faucet filling up a container and within seconds, he’s back, sitting beside you, handing you a full glass. “Drink this, sweetie.” You take it, tipping it into your mouth slowly until it’s half full and you’re properly quenched. He studies you in silence, scooching nearer with his hand resting on top of yours. “Are you alright?”

“I’m great,” you giggle, leaning towards him, lips grazing his with a crooked, goofy smile.

He laughs. “It looks like you had a lot of fun with your friends.” He sniffs, adding, “Your breath is very fruity.”

“Is it gross?” You frown at him, feigning embarrassment.

He shakes his head. “Not at all, honey. In fact, it’s very sweet.”

“You’re very sweet,” you respond, kissing him sloppily. Your hands grip to his t-shirt, tugging at the fabric to bring him closer to you.

Chuckling into your mouth, he pulls away, licking his lips. “Honey, you’re drunk.”

“No I’m not!” you exclaim. “I want you, baby! Don’t you want me?”

“Of course I want you. I always want you. But not like this. Let’s sober up first.”

“But I want it now!” you whine, being absolutely unbearable.

The smile on his face remains, ever so patient even when you’re being an annoying little shit. He nuzzles his nose to yours, cupping your cheek in his palm. “We’ll do it later, okay?” His voice lowers, mouth hot on your ear now. “Please, sweetheart? Can you be a good girl and listen to daddy?”

You groan, squeezing your legs together, grabbing him firmer. “Don’t tease me like that!”

He laughs again, placing another loving kiss on your forehead. “How about I make us some sandwiches and we watch a movie? Then, I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

You release him, sighing, still pretending to be disappointed when in fact, you’re more than satisfied. Thrilled beyond belief that you’re married to this incredible specimen of a man. “Fine. I guess that’s alright.”

#🍥: fic recs #nanami kento x reader

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luminialib · 1 year

Text

👁️👁️

it's ovulating szn

ft. nanami kento x fem!reader

content warnings: reader has a uterus, reader is horny, can't blame them though, kento is just fucking hot, suggestive, making out, thigh grinding, implied smut, reader has periods, reader is called a slut once, nanami nutted in his pants LOL, not beta read

wc: 915

note: wrote this while being half-asleep and delirious, i'm sorry in advance

kento just want to finally sit on the couch with you and talk about his day. especially when it's been the bane of his sanity for the past hours he had been working.

but how can you even concentrate listening to your lover when he looks especially good and delicious today?

the words just went in and out of your ears, not having any energy to comprehend any of them. not when kento's lips look so juicy and inviting. his biceps bulging through his blue blouse that is folded until his elbow, practically begging to be touched and held. not when his thighs are spread deliciously, muscles relaxed as he sigh from yet another complaint (something about gojo, but you don't know for sure), his veiny hands and forearms on the top of the cushions on the backrest, holding his face steady. and his voice — oh god— his voice. so hot and raspy that you would do anything to hear his moans right now—

"i don't think you're listening anymore, sweetheart." you search his face for any hint of dejection for not being able to be interactive with his stories, but as you take a look on his face any longer, a tiny smirk is present, giving you an idea that he knows why you're being awfully quiet.

"yeah? well, how can i?" you crawled to him from the other side of the couch, straddling his thighs and making your face closer to his, distance merely a hair's breath away. "when you look this fucking good," deciding you had enough, you cup both of his cheeks into a passionate kiss.

you can still taste the slight hint of coffee that he had earlier in the afternoon, probably his third cup of coffee but you don't mind. kento, being the gentleman he is, opted to give your hips some attention, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze which makes things even harder for you to contain. the kiss went more aggressive, your teeth clashing against each other, your tongue exploring his mouth, finding the taste addicting.

you hear kento moan against your mouth, swallowing it all. you can already feel your panties soaking wet, you wouldn't even be surprise if you see yourself dripping on his beige trousers. you feel your pussy begging for any ounce of attention but the heavens above must have heard your wishes as kento pushes your hips firmly on his thigh, "sit like a good slut and keep yourself entertained," you knew it was the code for 'go on, use my thigh as you please' and you couldn't be any happier to oblige.

"mmh— hah— kento, oh my god," you felt yourself closer to your climax, the rub against your clit bringing your eyes onto the back of your head. the pressure is too much for you to handle that when you bit your lips to suppress yourself from being to loud, you're positively sure that it's going to bleed.

"let me hear you, darling, come on, use your big girl voice," kento was happy enough to keep your desires occupied as he felt his trousers get tight, but he doesn't mind, your needs are always above his.

"hah— oh lord, you're so, ah!" you yelped as you feel yourself closer to cumming, the friction between your clit and both of your clothed bodies too hot to handle. "i'm gonna cum, kento!" the movement of your hips getting sloppy each second is enough for him to tell even before you said it. "come on then, cum like a good girl," with that, you finally let yourself go.

as you look down at his crotch, you see a big wet patch forming. "oh my god, did you cum too?" you asked him, shocked that his dick was able to bust out even without touching it. "making you finish makes me cum, darling." he chuckles in between light pants.

"well, here's an idea," you let your hands explore his heaving chest, "what is it?" kento answered, his sultry eyes meeting yours.

"why don't we take this to the bedroom, then you can continue your story."

"will you actually listen this time?"

"i'll try." you replied with a suggestive tone, knowing he won't mind telling you the story again as long as he gets to fuck you.

"sounds like a plan."

and with that, kento lifted your body up, the both of you not being able to contain yourselves, making out towards your shared bedroom.

that night, you and kento swear to god that it was one of the best sex that had happened this year.

the next day after your steamy session, kento found you getting irritated to almost every single thing that annoyed you.

the door knob snatching the hem of your shirt? annoyed. your charger not working like it used to? absolutely livid. you found your favorite shirt on the laundry when you were planning to wear it today? at this point satan is asking to be replaced with the stages of rage you just went through.

later that night though, he saw a packet of tampon thrown on the garbage bin in your bathroom.

and then kento swore the gears in his head started working.

ah, so that's why. everything started to make sense.

the few days after that, he took care of your every need and served you like a goddess (not that he was treating you any less regardless if it's that time of the month or not).

#🍥: fic recs #smut #nanami kento x reader

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luminialib · 1 year

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This man is beyond 10/10.

Cozy Nanami Headcannons

He pretends to sleep with his glasses on while sitting on the sofa with a book on his lap, just so he can feel your hand caress his face.

He loves to exchange books with you and leave notes in the margins with his impeccable handwriting, usually they’re really insightful but sometimes he’s a little silly and likes to make you laugh.

He likes to be a gentleman, definitely respects the road rule- tugging you to the side of the pavement and putting his large hand on the small of your back when you two cross the road.

He likes when the two of you nap together accidentally, the feeling of you legs tangled up and your back hushed close next to his. He can fall asleep easier when you’re next to him, hearing your heart beating and seeing the rise and fall of your chest.

He likes to wake you up with a kiss to your temple and coffee just the way you like it in his hand waiting for you to get up.

He is really good with children, as much as he likes to pretend to be awkward with them. As soon as you turn your back he plays with them, picking them up and spinning them and listening to their every command seriously.

He loves it when you bury your face in his chest to shield your eyes from the bright light flooding into your bedroom from the window.

He loves it when you cat stretch next to him in bed, he knows you push up against him on purpose but he just kisses your nape and pulls you in impossibly closer.

He loves to massage you after a long day at work, feeling you relax under him because of something he has done makes him happy.

After care is so important, almost as important to him than actually having sex with you. He takes it very seriously, bubble baths and massages. The work.

Occasionally, he surprises you with a homemade treat, like cookies or muffins, that he drops off at the office to brighten your day.

He likes to share a quiet moment with you before work, sipping your favorite warm beverages and discussing your plans for the day.

He has a small polaroid picture of the two of you at the park after he’s asked you out for the first time.

He is on Pinterest religiously, if he sees something that gives off a you vibe he’ll put it in his folder he has just named ‘darling’.

#🍥: fic recs #nanami kento x reader

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luminialib · 1 year

Text

f!reader, reader teaches the second years, established fwb/mutual pining/something between reader and gojo

Clacking down the hardwood planked hallway in a hurry, you slow down to listen as you hear the voices of Satoru’s first years echoing down the hallway.

“Of course this clown has kept us waiting. What do you think he’s doing? Chasing down the oth-“

Nobara’s disinterested tone, one that sounds a bit more like your student Maki’s every day, is cut short by the voice of Yuuji who doesn’t hesitate to defend his teacher’s honor.

“No, no. Gojo-sensei is just running a little late. It’s fine.”

A sigh you easily recognize as Megumi’s punctuates the other boys’ words and you snort to yourself, walking further down the hallway until the trio comes into your view.

“He is so frustrating.”

The tittering gossip of the three first year students stops as soon as your shadow crosses where they sit against the wall in the hallway, wondering why on earth Satoru has kept them waiting for so long.

“Your sensei was called away on a mission last minute.”

Three faces bow toward the floor in apology as you clear up the mystery and you can almost see a tinge of pink across Megumi’s cheeks, not the usual suspect of who you’d catch red handed gossiping.

“Come on,” you motion them to standing with your head as you slide open the door to their home room. “Let’s get started.”

He asked you to cover for him after being called away on an emergency, something he wasn’t super interested in taking until he was told they weren’t sure any other first grades or higher were available for the mission.

The option was him or you and he easily decided he’d go in your place, a small squeeze of your hand as he left his thank you until he returns.

“So what were you guys saying when I walked up?”

Looking over your shoulder at three very embarrassed teenagers shouldn’t make you smile as hard as it does but you remember those days all too well yourself. Gossiping with your classmates, apologizing to Yaga for speculating about his ex-wife’s looks as teenagers do, it feels like a lifetime ago but you see yourself in them more than ever each time it happens.

“We were just discussing how confusing it is that Gojo teaches first years instead of you.”

Shrugging, you motion for them to sit down and slide onto what is regularly Gojo’s desk, letting your legs dangle with your hands in your lap. They take their seats and look at you sheepishly, as though they’re expecting to be in trouble, but you smile at them instead.

“Well, let’s talk about it. What are your issues with Gojo-sensei?”

Immediately, the flood gates open.

“He’s always late.”

“His jokes are so stupid and he always makes them at the wrong time.”

“He’s disorganized.”

You nod thoughtfully as they speak over one another but you put your hand up and they stop, cutting themselves off mid-sentence to give you their attention.

“And what makes you think that I’m any better than he is? More organized or timely or whatever?”

Megumi raises a brow, the boy having known you since you weren’t much older than he is now, and you shoot him a look out of the corner of your eye but it doesn’t keep him from speaking.

“Because you are.”

A single nod is your response and they keep their gazes pointed at you curiously, waiting for more.

As true as what he’s saying may be - you’re timely to a fault, you are meticulously organized when it comes to teaching and only teaching, you have been known to tell a joke that outdoes The Strongest himself - you can’t stomach hearing him be disrespected by his own students and your feelings for him are winning over the logic that tells you to stay out of it.

“Have you three ever really thought about what we do here?”

Three blank faces until Nobara half smiles.

“We kill curses and keep people safe.”

You nod.

“Have you ever thought about what that actually means?” Their faces turn blank again and they turn to look at each other. “What you’re learning about while we get to have you as students?”

The sound of crickets may as well be blasting from the desks in front of you and you smile, shifting your position slightly to standing and leaning against the edge of the front of the desk.

“You have a big responsibility and nothing about this life is fun,” you start and they point their faces back toward you.

“We may joke and there are times where things seem silly or lighthearted but each of us has killed. Some of us have almost died and some of us have, even while we were your age.”

It’s never any fun to be solemn with these three but if anyone will do it, you know it’s you. Satoru spends all of his time protecting them from sadness and harm and you simply want to remind them of the sacrifices it takes for him to do that.

“When we decided who would take the first year students and who would take the second, Yaga and I unanimously decided it would be Gojo alongside the other sorcerers.”

Three surprised faces watch as you continue to speak, now pacing in a little line with your arms tucked over one another resting against your waist.

“He’s the perfect person for first year students and do you want to know why?”

The kids nod raptly.

“He keeps you guys smiling when it would be really easy to let you experience just how shitty all of this is.”

The point comes across more bluntly than you intended it to but it appears they understand, sitting back in their desks with wide eyes.

“Your sensei cares about all three of you and deserves respect because he respects you enough to want you to still enjoy your lives. That’s why he’s your teacher and not me.”

Three bowed heads sit before you and you shake your head as Yuuji raises his hand sheepishly.

“Itadori?”

“Why were you picked for the second years then?”

You laugh and they slowly look up, hands resting in their laps.

“Because they had no one else.”

Sitting back down on the desk, you hold your arms out with a smile and the three of them just stare at you unblinking.

“Maybe you are a little worse than he is,” Nobara mutters and you shrug with the same smile plastered on your face.

“Perfect.” Waving dismissively, you stand up and head toward the door and slide it open. “You guys have a free day now so go do whatever you want.”

They stand up and chat amongst themselves, waving goodbye to you with sidelong glances and you assume nothing of the conversation until Satoru slides into bed next to you that night with a heartbreaking grin.

“Heard you stood up for me today.”

Reaching out, you pinch his cheeks between your thumb and forefinger and shake your head.

“Something like that.”

#🍥: fic recs #gojo satoru x reader

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luminialib · 1 year

Text

Ay wow- it hurts.

THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY.

⤷ what was I made for?

જ⁀➴ synopsis: after hanging out with Suguru's friends, you head home and can't wait to bury it down like you always do. But when your boyfriend insists on knowing what upset you, the night takes a turn for the worst.

જ⁀➴ word count: 2,8k

જ⁀➴ content warning: hurt/no comofrt, angst, fights, suguru is a little mean and says mean shit.

જ⁀➴ note: sorry for the long wait, i'm struggling to work on many things at once. but a huge thank you for showing the first part so much love! it was truly unexpected.

ʚ⁺˖ ⤷ tag list: @error404-tryagain @fiannee @anarosextodo @ayeputita (couldn't tag everyone for some reason, my bad!)

⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

Suguru remembers when he first fell in love with you, how his face felt warm when you wrapped your arms around him and told him to have a safe trip, the little bag of goodies you had prepared for him sitting atop of his suitcase. He remembers pulling you into a deep kiss in the middle of a crowded airport, and he wasn’t a huge fan of PDA, has never been—but something about you caring for him, preparing food for his flight and showing up as he was about to board made his heart leap out of his chest.

Your first I love you to each other was shared when you realized you couldn’t handle being away from each other for longer than a day. You move in together shortly after he returns from his travel.

You don’t remember when you started to feel out of place, but it makes its way up and towards the back of your head like a parasite—your emotions were always too much for anyone to handle. You recently had a breakdown over messing up at work, and you’ve never seen Suguru look more lost than when he tried to comfort you. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern, he looks defeated when you refuse to let him touch or hug you. You were a mess, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

When you do calm down and are finally able to breathe properly, your brain flashes you little moments from your breakdown like a flashback—almost as though to shame and embarrass you for the way you behaved, all while your perfect boyfriend looks defeated at your lack of cooperation. You’re not sure if it is true, you hope that it’s not—but you see Suguru sit at the edge of the bed and bury his face in his hands and he curses under his breath. He looks tired.

It’s because of me.

When Suguru notices that your breakdowns become less frequent, he is convinced that you are slowly working towards getting better, praises and showers you with compliments. This is the Suguru you always want to see, full of life and love and not the one you saw that night.

And so you decide that from now on, Suguru wasn’t made to see you at your lowest.

Dinner ends an hour later and you almost run out of the restaurant and towards the car. Suguru is quick to join you, and from the corner of your eyes, you see Gojo standing near his car and his eyes are staring into your soul. You were grateful that he didn’t tell your boyfriend about the bathroom incident. You confided in the male at such a vulnerable moment and you would’ve been pretty upset if he went against your wishes.

You’re as quiet as ever as Suguru starts the car and drives away. You’re mindful of the way you sit not to face Suguru, and decide on letting him pick the songs to play on the way back. And your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re avoiding him like the plague, after all this wasn’t the first time you were eerily quiet on the way back home. But you were wrong.

Suguru watches you as you walk inside your shared apartment and remove your shoes. You’re not wearing any specific expression indicating that you might be upset. After all, you did have a habit of frowning as a resting face. But it feels different as you quietly greet your cat with a head pat, choosing to head to the kitchen first since you knew Suguru would go to the bathroom for a quick shower.

You were avoiding him.

“Did I do something?” Your boyfriend watches as you halt your movements, the glass of water in your hand long forgotten as you stare at him wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Huh?”

“You’re avoiding me, did something happen?” Suguru tries to remember the night you spent outside. He has no clear memory of saying or doing something that you might’ve tipped you over the edge, so what was wrong? You were never this quiet.

“I’m fine, Sugu. You didn’t do anything.” The smile you flash him does anything but reassure him. You ignore the frown that sits on his face and you turn around, your back facing him as you try to busy yourself with something—anything, but facing the man you called your boyfriend.

“Then why are you acting so distant?” So he was able to pick up on it. You hoped that he wouldn’t be able to, maybe breaking up with him would be much easier that way. You are quiet as ever as you turn around and walk toward the fridge.

You were distant because Suguru wasn’t supposed to see you like this, he wasn’t supposed to know how much of an insecure mess you were when he was around, how you were desperately trying to get him to fall out of love. You can barely say I love you to him without feeling guilty about it. Did you truly deserve his love? It felt like he was wasting his time on someone as miserable as you.

“I am not distant, just tired.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, you were tired. You wanted to sleep so badly, wanted to drown the lingering thoughts of never feeling enough as Suguru’s girlfriend, but feeling whole and complete when you are yourself outside of your relationship. This was a you problem, and dragging Suguru down with you felt a little unfair.

“You were crying in the restaurant.” Your heart stills at this. “But you lied and said you were fine.”

“Did Satoru—“

“Satoru doesn’t know you better than I do.” His tone is sharp, and you’re taken aback by the harsh way he chooses to address you. Was this about to escalate into something else? You didn’t want it to, you didn’t have the energy to fight back and tell him to choose his tone carefully. You might’ve been the easy-going, kind girlfriend—but you weren’t going to tolerate disrespect from his part.

“You’re right, he doesn’t.” You sound almost defeated, and you put your glass in the sink before wiping your hands on the towel. Suguru stands near the kitchen island, and watches you with cat-like eyes. You were barely looking his way, the dark circles under your eyes prominent despite your effort at covering them up with make-up. When did Suguru start paying less attention to you? Or did you simply never allow him to see you like this, vulnerable and exhausted. His heart aches in his chest.

“So you won’t tell me?” You’re about to walk away when he decides to speak, and you heave out a long sigh when you realize that the night was taking a turn for the worst.

“Tell you what?” You mumble under your breath, and you refuse to meet Suguru’s cold eyes. You can feel them on your skin, they’re intense and trying to read you like a book. Perhaps if you don’t look his way, his stare would feel less intimidating.

“Would you please just stop?” Suguru rests his elbows on his the surface of the kitchen island, burying his face in his hands. “I’m really trying to figure out what’s wrong, and you’re not helping.”

“Maybe because I don’t want to tell you what’s wrong.” Your response comes out almost immediately, and the frustration you’ve been suppressing all night suddenly resurfaces. Months of trying to play it cool, sweeping your insecurities under the rug and hoping that a kiss from Suguru would fix all of your problems, it was all piling up into this huge bubble. And the more persistent your boyfriend was, the harder it was to stay quiet.

“What do you mean you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong?” Suguru’s voice is a little bit louder, and he’s almost in disbelief at your words. You were dating, you slept on the same bed, ate on the same table and cuddled on the same couch. You weren’t a girl he started dating last month, or a person he was testing out the waters with—you weren’t even a potential lifetime partner, but he was almost certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

“Because it’s useless to whine to you about shit you don’t need to know. My problems are mine, you don’t have to fix me.” You feel yourself shake a little the more you speak, your heart is beating fast at the realization that this was a conflict—you were creating a conflict and it felt suffocating.

“Fix you—who said I have to fix you?”

“Right, no one did—Suguru, just drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But I do.” His tone is sharp, and his hands are curled up in fists. His eyes are staring you down the same way he looks at strangers—threatening, cold and mean. You find yourself tearing up and it makes you feel stupid. You started this, you’re the one who doesn’t feel enough in the relationship—you’re the one being mean, and yet a single look from Suguru has you almost bursting into tears? Pathetic. You felt pathetic and weak, and the longer your boyfriend stared at you, the harder it was to maintain a normal breathing pattern.

“Suguru, I don’t want to talk about it.” You try again, and you hope that your voice doesn’t betray and breaks. Tonight has been exhausting enough, and the thought of having to speak up what has been on your mind for months now makes your chest feel incredibly tight.

“You’re being selfish.”

Selfish? You were being selfish?

You stare at Suguru in disbelief and he immediately realizes how badly he must’ve fucked up because the tears start falling down your cheeks almost instantly. You, who has been pushing her feelings to the side for the sake of his happiness, were selfish? You, who can’t even remember the last time you were truly happy about something, were selfish? This is bullshit.

“I’m selfish?” Your chin quivers pathetically, and Suguru is quick to reach a hand towards you to hold you, but you flinch away from his hold, arms wrapped you to give yourself the comfort Suguru wanted to give you.

“I am selfish, me?!” Your voice is getting louder, but you didn’t care. All the frustration, all the sadness and insecurities were all coming up to the surface because of one single comment.

“Baby, I didn’t—“

“Don’t call me that, don’t you fucking dare touch me!” You move away when he attempts to hold you. “I’m selfish because I don’t wanna tell my perfect boyfriend with his perfect personality about my shitty problems. That’s just fucking great, isn’t it?”

The last time Suguru saw you like this was months ago and he doesn’t even realize it until now. All those times where you would brush off something that would normally set you off, give him a tight lipped smile and tell him not to worry.

“Your problems aren’t shitty, you don’t even want to talk about them!”

“Because every time I tried, it felt like I was robbing you of your fucking happiness, Suguru!” Your voice is loud. “Every time I realized that my mood was ruined, I could only think of how you must be fed up with me.”

“But I’m not? I never even said that I was fed up!” Suguru’s body language completely changes, and suddenly he’s not even trying to comfort you. More so understand where all of this was coming from.

“Your face says it all and fuck--” You groan into your face, your cheeks flushed from frustration.

“Oh so now it’s my face?” You raise your head to stare at him. “One moment you’re saying it’s how I behave, but now it’s all in my face?”

“You’re missing the whole point, Suguru—“

“No, I’m not missing anything! You are the one who created this situation, you’re the one who decided to pull away!” Each word feels like a knife being stabbed into your heart. You stare at the man who usually gives you warm, sweet smiles and all of that is replaced with a cold angry look.

“Suguru—“

“Selfish. Yeah, actually I don’t take it back. You are selfish,”

“Stop.” your lips quivers.

“Because if you actually wanted this to work out, you would tell me what’s wrong instead of finding excuses.”

“You’re being mean, Sugu.”

Your boyfriend groans out of frustration and leans against the kitchen counter. You stand still next to the fridge, tears streaming down your face. You try to stop and wipe them away, but it feels as though you really needed this more than anything.

“I want to take a break.” You say quietly and Suguru’s head snaps up almost immediately.

“What?”

“I want to take a break from this—from you, I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

Instead of giving you a proper reply, Suguru storms out of the kitchen and grabs his jacket and car keys and is out of the house in less than a minute. You are frozen in your spot as you let the words you just uttered out loud sink in, and there’s a sense of guilt. You are pulling away from your relationship, you’re willingly taking a break and not looking back, but does it matter anymore?

This was by far your biggest fight with your boyfriend, and the way he stormed out at the mention of taking a break makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. But not anymore.

You can’t even remember the last time you were happy, and for it to go on for so long was so draining and tiring. You could barely recognize yourself anymore. Your feet take you towards your shared bedroom with Suguru and you start packing some of your stuff. Whether he agrees to the break or not is not important, because you were doing this for yourself. And if Suguru truly cared about you, he would let you do what is best for you.

Suguru didn’t know where he was going, he just wanted to get away from you and as soon as possible. The roads are empty, and he isn’t driving recklessly. In fact, he’s probably driving so slowly that it would look suspicious to anyone on the outside.

He parks the car on the side of the road and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. When did it turn into this? When did he become so absorbed in his personal life that he stopped including you or care for you? Suguru doesn’t want to blame himself, but it’s a little difficult. He thought he was living this picture perfect life with you, under one roof with a single pet and future plans ahead of you. But to fuck up this badly and call you selfish simply because you were struggling on your own was horrible.

And to make things worse, he stormed out of the house and left you there all alone. He groans into his hands.

“Fuck.” He wants to fix this. He doesn’t want a break, he doesn’t think that it’s necessary. But you looked serious about it, maybe he could talk you out of it.

He grabs his phone and dials your number, and when it takes a while for you to pick up he just knows that you must’ve been contemplating whether or not you wanted to take the call. Eventually, you do answer.

“I’m sorry,” the line on your side is quiet, so he continues. “I fucked up, I don’t think I should’ve said what I said and—“

“It’s not your fault.” Your nose is stuffed, but Suguru can tell from the tone of your voice that you were tired. “But I need some space, Suguru.”

Some space… So you were considering the break.

“We can work it out, we don’t have to take a break or anything, we can go on a date tomorrow morning and—“

“I called a cab, I’m going back to my place.” You cut him off, and Suguru hears you lock the door to his apartment. “I’m doing this for myself and for us,” Suguru closes his eyes when he realizes that there was truly no hope in talking you out of it.

“Okay… can I still text you?”

“No,” you reply quietly. “I don’t wanna think about you for a while.” He tries not to feel hurt but it’s difficult.

“I understand.” The line goes quiet for a while, and Suguru hears a few sniffles from your side and sighs.

“We’ll be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You wipe a few tears. “I have to go now.”

“I love you.” Suguru waits for a response, and when you take too long to answer, his chest tightens a little.

“Take care, Sugu.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

#🍥: fic recs #geto suguru x reader

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luminialib · 1 year

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.”

#🍥: fic recs #gojo satoru x reader

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luminialib · 1 year

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Synopsis: For Satoru's 18th birthday, you give him a book. Word count: 1.3k Tags: 16+, Crack, references to m!masturbation (in teasing, joking kind of way) but no actual mention of it, it's just crack tbh, idiot (gojo) in love, gn!reader, reader is shorter than gojo, we're all going to pretend hidden inventory doesn't exist a/n: im ngl when i searched for pictures of waka inoue i blushed

“What’s… What’s this?”

“Hm? It’s Waka Inoue.” You answer brightly, pushing the book further into Gojo’s arms as he stares, and stares, and stares at the open book, flipped to the front page where the sultry smile of the model stares right back at him. Dread creeps up his spine, and the ‘honoured one’ gulps. “Suguru told me you liked her.”

“I… what?”

“And that you had her as your wallpaper for some time,” you continue to explain as he stands there, baffled. “I didn’t know you liked these kinds of girls, ‘toru, but I’m not sure what I expected. You men are all the same, really, but I guess I can see why you’re attracted to her. Her boobs are really nice.”

Satoru chokes on air.

“No need to be ashamed,” you pat his shoulder sympathetically. For the first time in a long while, he’s dumbfounded. Stunned silent. Satoru doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Was this a cruel joke? Revenge for the times he’s annoyed you? Were Suguru and Shoko going to pop up behind a pillar screaming ‘gotcha!!!’? He hopes so. Dear god, he hopes so.

When he looks behind you, hoping, praying to see at least a wisp of his friend's cursed energy and coming up blank, it starts to sink in that this was, in fact, very, very real.

“I didn’t know what to get you in return for your birthday,” you say, and though he loves the sound of your voice—could listen to it for hours, really—but for the sake of his sanity, he needs you to stop.

“I wanted to get tickets to her fan meet for you, but it didn’t really work out. So I put together this book instead.”

The horrible, terrible implications of those words snaps him out of his stupor. “You put this together?!”

“Mhm. All by myself!” That makes things a hundred times worse. Satoru wants to wither away. Book thick and heavy in his arms, he can only imagine what might be in there, what you might’ve (most definitely have) seen. What you think of him now.

“Hunting down her photoshoots was pretty embarrassing.” Then you shrug like it’s no big deal. “But it’s whatever. Think of it as if I’m giving you merch! It’s pretty much the same thing.”

No, it’s not the same thing. It’s one thing to give him a magazine where the images were of a celebrity, it’s another altogether to pick and choose and cut those images out!

His cheeks tighten even further, heat rising to the tips of his ears as he breaks eye contact and looks down at his feet in a rare show of embarrassment. Humiliation rises steadily in his chest, the primal urge to fight back making him bounce on the balls of his feet. Realistically, would you be hurt (emotionally, never physically) if he blasted the book with Blue? Maybe. Yes. Probably. Definitely. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to try and find out. He’d like to be kept in your good graces, thank you very much.

Next best thing, then. Flight.

Toes curled in under the cover of his shoes, he wonders how feasible it would be if he ran out of school, if he warps to the other side of the world and starts a new life there. He could handle his clan, but would Yaga go after him? Demand an explanation? Shit. Would you accompany Yaga to bring him back? Saying no to you was impossible, and his ego can only take so many hits. Having to say “oh! don’t mind me, sensei! i’m just too ashamed to go back to school because my crush hand-selected and gave me a book full of Waka-san’s bikini photoshoots!” would be a blow not even his infinity could defend him from.

What next, then? Would it be better to just blast a hole through the centre of the earth and hide in its core? He could. He most definitely could. But then he wouldn’t be able to hear your voice again, and the signal’s probably shit enough that he can’t contact anyone else, either.

“It’s okay, Satoru,” you say in that sweet voice of yours, squeezing his arm lightly. Just like that, he’s rooted in place. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of your needs.”

He jolts. “I don’t–”

“It’ll be… good,” you smile wrily, “if this book can be of use to you. I just hope you don’t tell me what you plan on using it for.”

Did you think that–

“No! I’m not going to–”

“I really don’t need to know,” you cut him off without much fanfare. A stick dragged through sand to form a makeshift boundary. How was he going to recover from the wary look you were giving him? “Just be respectful, okay?”

Like his jaw, his heart drops at the insinuation. “No, w-wait! I really don’t–”

“I’m well aware that you’ll probably use this for more personal purposes,” he cringes at the wording you went with. Goosebumps litter his skin, crawling down his arms. It feels like nails were being raked down a chalkboard, except he was the chalkboard and those nails were yours. “But she’s still a person. So you should still adhere to etiquette—or at least some form of it.”

“I-I-I…!” he sputters.

“It’s really okay,” you reassure him once more. Is it too late to run? “Don’t be weird about it.”

“ME? Weird?” He almost cries, voice raising another octave in the empty classroom. “You’re the one handing me a book full of cut-outs of Waka Inoue!”

“Birthday presents are supposed to be memorable! And thoughtful!”

“Not this memorable!”

“If I had more time, I probably could’ve tracked down some of her trading cards!” You say excitedly, mistaking the distress in his voice for the simple embarrassment of receiving a raunchy gift. “Maybe I could do that for your nineteenth! I should run that through Suguru again…”

The bastard would give you the green light along with all his blessings. He’d pop out a bottle of champagne on his dime and clink his glass with yours.

“Do not do that for my next birthday! Don’t you dare!”

You laugh, a bright sound that temporarily overrides his shame. Satoru finds himself gripping onto the book a little bit tighter, heart skipping, missing a beat when you smile up at him with sparkles in your eyes. Pretty, he thinks, and almost forgets the predicament he’s in.

“You’re so cute when you’re shy, Satoru!”

“‘m not…”

“You are.”

Hooking an arm around his, you tug him out of class, pulling him out of school and in the direction of the dorms. Like running water under the bridge, the book and its contents and its implications get pushed to the back of his mind. Satoru stumbles after you like a newborn lamb, strangely docile as you continue to babble, shoulder knocking against his side as you share heat in the cold of December.

It’s not so bad, he thinks, to endure a bit of humiliation for your sake. For your happiness. Sooner or later, this will become a story for you and him to laugh over, in fits of giggles underneath a shared blanket.

Before any of that happens, before he sets his plans in motion, he still needs to handle something.

“Suguru.”

You’re not here anymore. Satoru saw to it that you were deposited back in your dorm room where it’s warm and toasty. Out of earshot. He would have stayed, picking a justification from a bookshelf of pre-made excuses to remain around you longer, but Satoru’s not quite sure how much humiliation he can take in one day, especially when you had given him a sly smile and told him to ‘go have fun’.

Oh, he’d have fun.

His best friend’s eyes drift down to the book he was still holding, an involuntary snort escaping him when he recognises what it was. Satoru’s nose twitches at the sight of an entertained, smug smile stretching across his face.

“Yeah?” Suguru snickers, and that’s all the confirmation Satoru needs.

“I’m going to kill you!”

a/n: shy, embarrassed gojo here i come :> ive missed writing him. also i gave up on a title lol

Do not plagiarise, use, translate and/or share my content outside of Tumblr in any way, shape, or form. Likes and reblogs/comments are greatly appreciated if you enjoyed!

#🍥: fic recs #smut #gojo satoru x reader

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luminialib · 1 year

Text

Man. I love him so much. His ken-ergy is amazing.

nanami kento has a green thumb

a/n: hi hi friends ! I’m back with another nanami one shot ? drabble ? idk what this is considered anymore,, i hope you guys enjoy !! i write something similar on my old blog so this is loosely inspired by that :3 let me know what y’all think <3

wordcount: 1,181

masterlist

nanami kento has a green thumb, he’s only ever bought one plant in his life, and he’s kept it alive for five years now.

you’ve bought a multitude of plants in your life, and each and every one of them have met the same twisted fate: death.

nanami learned about your love for plants after the first couple dates, telling you that surely there’s no way you managed to dry out a cactus. and you, as sad as it was, showed him the picture of the dried cactus, a frown on your face as you explained to him that your love for plants just wasn’t meant to be; you were star crossed lovers.

so when you began dating, kento found himself in the plant nursery, getting you a small succulent that he hoped would survive.

“you only have to water it once every two weeks, just feel the soil and if it’s dry then water it” he explains to you, making sure his every word is heard before handing you the small plant. there’s worry in your eyes as you hold the plant gently.

“I’ll do my very best little guy” you say to the plant, looking up at your boyfriend and smiling widely. “thank you kento” he can only smile, pressing a kiss to your lips before taking in the sight of you and your sparkling eyes.

there’s no way someone as gentle and life as you could kill a plant that was easy to take care of, right?

when nanami comes over a month later he can help but let his eyes wander to the spot that you had claimed as the succulents home, only to find the plant nowhere in sight.

“okay the popcorn is ready, did you find the movie?” you ask, smiling as you settle onto the couch next to your boyfriend, “what’s wrong?” you ask, eyes following his and your whole demeanor shifts.

“y/n” his voice is soft as he turns to look at you, “where’s the plant i gave you?”

he knows. you know he knows. he knows you know he knows. and you wish he didn’t know you knew all that.

“you have to hear me out” you begin, setting the popcorn down and taking his hands in yours. “i really tried i did! i watered him like you said and he just started dying! i googled what to do and do i did that but then it just got worse so i didn’t water him and then he just- he was all yellow and dead!” you cried out, squeezing his hands before resting your head on his chest, landing with a small ‘thump.’

“okay, okay,” he smiles, arms wrapping around you and holding you tightly, “maybe he had a bacteria or a parasite i didn’t catch when i had bought him” he reasons, “I’ll get you another one, I’m sure you’ll be able to keep it alive” a smile of reassurance on his face as he kisses the top of your head.

two weeks later when he brings you yet another successful you take it in with weary arms, as careful with it as you’d be a newborn. everyday you talked to it, checking it’s soil and making sure it was healthy. and it was!

for one more week. then it began to wilt, despite the soul being moist. and so you watered it, because it needed water, right? it’s what google said.

and so succulent #2 was dead within the month. death by overwatering.

nanami didn’t gift you anymore plants, deciding that maybe when it came to plants you really were doomed.

he opted instead on buying a couple more plants for his own apartment, letting you name them and sending you updates on them.

when the two of you moved in together you were beyond ecstatic. you were finally gonna have plants in your home and they’d live longer than a month!

the home you’d bought had a small garden in the back, and you had envisioned an array of flowers you could plant. maybe your bad luck was only with house plants, you thought, outdoor plants are a lot easier right?

and so nanami watched as you brought home flower seeds and fertilizer, the gears in his head turning as he pieces together the plan you’d kept secret from him.

kento didn’t dare say a word to you, watching as you researched endlessly on the laptop, trying to keep the screen out of his sight but failing miserably.

“you need help with anything my love?” he asked, watching you haul a bag of soil across the yard.

“I’m fine, thank you honey!” you called out, smiling widely as you continued working, praying that these flowers would grow.

and they did! they grew beautifully and bloomed larger than you could have ever hoped for.

nanami watched as you snapped pictures of the blooming flowers, bright eyed and buzzing with excitement as he smiled next you.

“I’m so proud of you” he smiled, kissing your forehead as you boasted on and on about your now prized flowers.

nanami kento has a green thumb. one he used to help your garden of flowers out everytime after you worked on it. you’d slip into the shower and he’s rush outside, hastily and quietly gardening and trying to make sure you were doing the right things (half the time you were way off.)

“we’re you in the garden?” you asked once, noticing the speck of soil on his shorts.

“i just wanted to see how it was coming along, it look amazing darling” he smiled, hiding his very dirty hands in his pockets.

he would never tell you, nothing in the world could force the truth out of him no matter the circumstances. seeing the pure joy and accomplishment and your face was enough for him to bury his secret deep down and throw the key away.

for as long as he could, kento kept up with you Garden and every house plant you brought in, caring for them properly and letting you have all the praise for it. he didn’t mind, your happiness was all he ever wanted.

nanami kento had a green thumb, you had a black thumb. but maybe that’s what made you two destined for each other.

you eventually did find out though, when he had one too many shots and began apologizing profusely to you, spilling his secret and begging you to not leave him.

your hurt and anger came and went in a couple minutes, the sheer love and devotion of your lovers actions hitting you like ocean waves. all you could do is hold him tightly, kissing his face and telling him how much you love him.

come morning you’d confront him, asking him just how hard he had to work to keep alive the five orchids you brought home.

or in which you can’t keep a plant alive to save your life, but kento could do it with his eyes closed. he’s willing to live a life of lies in the garden to see you happy.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags

#🍥: fic recs #nanami kento x reader #kento = ken #kenergy #it's very ken-ergy

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luminialib · 1 year

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AOSHDJAMXGW SOBS. I LEGIT FORGOT ABOUT THIS AND WHEN I FOUND PART TWO, I INSTANTLY REMEMBERED.

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?

characters — nanami kento x reader

note — i'm so sorry this came out so late. if you didn't see my other posts, i mentioned that i basically rewrote this bc the original was so bad, and then i went on vacation. it's still kinda bad i'm sorry. dividers by benkeibear.

cw — not proofread (is anything i write even proofread?), established relationship, kinda ooc nanami, pregnancy, few mentions of sex, mentions of birth control, mentions of pregnancy symptoms, a lot of crying, sappy shit, angst, hurt/comfort. lmk if i missed any!

synopsis — after a hellish week caused by a misunderstanding and sickening fear, you decide you'd had enough of not speaking to your boyfriend and reveal your secret.

part 1 | part 2

for the past week, you've noticed that nanami had been taking on longer shifts than normal. in fact, it wasn't normal, because if there was one thing he absolutely hated in this world, it was working overtime. he'd leave for the school early, sometimes before you'd wake up, and come home past dinner or when you were already in bed. what was even more surprising (and hurtful) to you was that he was taking more time out of his day to put up with gojo satoru and his antics, rather than be around you.

you knew he was avoiding you. it was quite obvious, and nanami made no effort to hide it either. during the now short amounts of time he was home, he barely spoke and looked at you. this must have been what it felt like to him on that night, you realized.

you also knew that nanami would come around and talk to you. or, at least, you hoped he would. you knew him like no other—your boyfriend was a rational man who always thought things carefully and through. you convinced yourself that he was still upset and in need of space to think about that night, and maybe even what you were up to during that. maybe he was thinking of the possibility of you seeing someone else, having feelings for someone who wasn't him. by letting him ignoring you, you believed you were giving him the time and space he needed.

throughout the week, your pregnancy symptoms had become more prominent. you also found out that your birth control expired, which explained why you had gotten pregnant. you felt stupid for not checking the date. you began experiencing morning sickness, strange cravings, fatigue, even mood swings. but nanami wasn't there to see it happen. he'd already be at the school when you would be hunched over the toilet. he'd be on his lunch break while you'd be eating ice cream topped with pickles. you would be asleep half the time he was gone, which would help prevent the overthinking you faced while you were awake. you would be elated to hear him come home, but then tear up right after when you realized it would be another night without hearing his voice, without feeling his arms around you.

everyday you thought of revealing to him that you were pregnant with his child. and everyday, you thought of how he might be enraged and leave you for good. but despite the stomach churning fear you had, you were desperate to hear him speak to you. desperate to be held and kissed by him, to be looked at as if you were the most ethereal being in the world. you were desperate to hear nanami tell you he loves you, and always will.

after long thought and contemplation, debating with yourself about whether to confess or not, you came to a conclusion. you had had enough of this distance between you and the man you loved. tonight, when he came home, you were going to tell him the truth.

you were exhausted. you felt like if you blinked once, your eyes wouldn't open for another 9 hours. but you had to stay up. you were waiting on nanami to walk through the door.

and luckily for you, he did. you heard the faint click of the lock followed by soft footsteps padding into the kitchen, where you were waiting with a plate of food for him.

nanami took one brief glance at you before looking back down, not bothering to greet you. you inhaled deeply, weakly fighting back tears.

"hi, ken," you started nervously. he didn't reply, but he began to occupy himself with the mail you left out on the counter, telling you that he was listening.

"i made you food," you continued, "but it might be a little cold. i made it earlier but you didn't—"

"i already ate, thank you," nanami cut you off, not meeting your eyes.

"oh."

your heart began to beat erratically, and tears began to flood your eyes. you kept thinking to yourself that he's upset, and for all he knows you might be cheating on him. you reminded yourself why you were doing this, and that you had to push through if you wanted this misunderstanding to end.

"how was your day?" you asked shakily, opening your eyes despite the tears that were still there.

your heart sunk lower when you saw that he was making his way to the bedroom, and you swore it cracked when you hear the barely there "good" and a door shutting.

with your elbows propped on the counter and keeping your trembling frame up, you buried your face in your hands. this went much smoother in your head. you imagined nanami to have accepted the dinner you made him, take a bite of it at the least, and let you talk to him. but he was refusing to let down this cold front he kept up around you. you were beginning to have second thoughts about telling him.

but you couldn't keep hiding it, you knew that. so, wiping away any stray tears and taking a few deep breaths in, you made your way to the bedroom.

you found nanami on the bed, already dressed in his pajamas and hair free of any product. his glasses were set neatly on the nightstand and his phone was in his hand. nanami wasn't the kind of person to be addicted to his phone, and even though you've been going through it for a while now, him not paying you any mind and more attention to his phone was painful.

"ken," you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady.

without craning his neck, nanami looked up at you with his eyebrow raised. he seemed tired, exasperated, and looked as though he didn't want to talk but just wanted to get it over with.

"can we talk? please?" your voice was thick with emotion, the please coming out softer and cracking.

nanami sighed before tossing his phone onto the bed. he finally, for the first time in days, looked at you and held your gaze expectantly.

"go on."

letting out a breath you didn't know you held in, you began slowly, "i am so... so, so sorry, kento. i know i hurt you and i made you believe that i would see someone else. and i'm not, i promise you. i could never love anyone else the way i love you."

nanami's eyes softened, and you could practically feel the worries of you cheating dissipate from him.

"so what was with you night?" nanami asked, the most he's ever said to you so far.

you almost choked on a sob when you realized what you had to do next.

"o-okay, uh... while you were at work, i found something out," you basically whispered. there was no need for extra details. you were getting straight to the point.

slowly, you turned to the dresser behind you and reached for your purse. your hands shook violently as you dug inside for the piece of plastic that made your life a living hell this past week. as you clutched it tightly in your hand, knuckles whitening, you closed your eyes and tilted your head up. you couldn't control the tears any longer, and the sobs were growing harder to keep down.

"love?"

the name caused a whimper to escape you. you inhaled shakily, trying to reduce your crying before turning around with the test results hidden behind your palm. as you walked towards nanami, you felt as though this was the last time you would ever see him, speak to him, and be around him.

with a quivering hand, you hand him the test.

"i'm so, so sorry," you whisper.

nanami flipped the test over, his eyes scanning every inch of the device. it took him a few seconds to realize what it was, and by the way his eyes widened and expression contorted into one of shock, you knew he had seen the results.

and when he didn't say anything, you swore your heart had actually broken.

"i'm sorry," you repeated through a heavy sob, no longer able to keep in your cries.

you turned around, back faced to nanami as you continued to cry into your hands. the lack of response was a response in itself, you believed. you knew it was over. you knew you were going to have to pack all your things, find somewhere else to stay, and raise this child alone.

that is, until you felt a gentle hand on your waist and a quiet voice behind you say, "y/n, look at me. please."

so you did, hesitantly. you turned back around and peeled your hands away from your tear stained face, but avoided eye contact, or even looking at his face. keeping your head down, you were afraid of what you would see, or of what you would read.

then both hands came to your cheeks, cupping them carefully and tilting your head up. your eyes met his, and instead of finding the anger you were expecting, you found comfort and understanding.

"is it mine?" he asked first, likely to confirm that you hadn't been with anyone else.

"yes," you replied without hesitating. "kento, it's only ever buh—been you."

he nodded, believing you completely. he began wiping away your tears with the pads of his thumbs, even though more would fall every time he wiped at them.

"y/n, why didn't you tell me sooner?" nanami whispered. he wasn't angry with you, however. just a bit hurt and curious.

"because, kento!" your voice coming out steadier than expected. "you have your whole life planned out. you have goals and dreams and you know what you want in life. i couldn't, i can't ruin that for you."

"and i was scared, ken. i was scared that you'd get mad and leave me and that you wouldn't want anything to do with our kid. and—and maybe i'm selfish for not telling you, maybe i'm selfish for hiding something so important, so life changing, and maybe that makes me a bad girlfriend. but i couldn't let you go like that. i love you too much to do that."

nanami now had watery eyes at your confession. despite still feeling a bit upset at the fact that you had kept this from him, he fully understood and didn't hold it against you. and despite already knowing, he even felt elated to hear that you loved him so dearly.

"y/n," he sighed, "i would never, ever get mad at you for this."

you froze, sniffling and looking up at him. the curiosity in your eyes urging him to go on.

"you becoming pregnant wasn't—isn't on you. this was mostly caused by me," nanami said, hoping it would ease and erase the feeling of everything being your fault.

"but i was stupid and didn't realize my birth control was expired," you replied.

"even if, y/n. we both did this, we both had sex, we are both in this together. this is our child."

"i know that, ken," you sighed, hiccuping shortly after.

"then you do know that since this is a result of both our actions, i will be there for you, for us? there is no way in hell i would leave you for getting pregnant, i'm the one who got you pregnant in the first place. yes, this is life changing. yes, i have goals, i have plans for the future—for our future. because every time i think about it, you are there. it doesn't matter if our timing isn't right, it doesn't matter if we aren't married yet. i am extremely confident that one day, i'll put a ring on your finger and we will spend eternities together, with this child. do you understand, y/n, love?"

his ramble was so sweet and so genuine, just as all his other rambles were. no matter the situation, whether you'd be feeling insecure or you both got into an argument, nanami never failed to reassure you and make you feel better. they were waves of relief and comfort, like sudden shelter from pouring rain. like being bundled up in blankets and full of warmth after shivering for so long. like a breath of fresh, cool air after a steamy shower.

like nanami telling you that everything was alright, and no matter how tough the situation felt, he would stand by you.

"yes," you breathed, "i understand."

"good," nanami whispered back.

still holding your face in his hands, he pulled you towards him and planted a lingering kiss on your forehead, and then a peck before removing one hand from your face and down to your hip. nanami squeezed you gently and walked you both to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling you into his lap. he slid his arm around your middle, then moved the hand still on your face to the back of your head and gently guided you to the crook of his neck. you wrapped your own arms over his shoulders and squeezed him tight, the way he was doing you. you continued to pour out whatever remaining feelings of sadness and relief, quietly sniffling and whimpering into his neck, all the while nanami would softly rub up and down your back, occasionally patting, combing his fingers through your hair and scalp, and whispering sweet nothings and reassuring affirmations into your ear. leaving sweet kisses around your face, into your hair, on your shoulder.

when your cries died down and all that was left were hiccups, you quietly muttered, "i'm sorry for doubting you and thinking you'd leave."

"shh, don't apologize," nanami assured you. "i understand. i'm sorry i thought you were seeing someone else, and i am truly sorry for giving you the cold shoulder and not talking things out with you like an adult. i was hurt and afraid to face the truth, but i realize i was wrong. do you forgive me?"

pulling away from his neck, you looked into his sincere amber eyes, cupping his cheeks. nodding, you answered, "of course."

a small smile graced his lips, followed by a gentle kiss on yours. pulling away, you tilted your head down and rested your forehead on his. both of your eyes shut, your arms squeezing each other in silent reassurance.

"i love you, y/n, and our baby, and this future we're creating together."

m. list

#🍥: fic recs #nanami kento x reader

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luminialib · 1 year

Text

a/n: im so overwhelmed with jjk content its insane honestly. this is a megumu and gojo-centric fic, more focused on their developing relationship when gojo took in megs as a kid alright. because im literally broken after what happened to megumi :/

when megumi gets sick, he is more capricious than usual. he always wants you to treat him, to make him feel better, and who’re you to not do everything you can to help him.

but you’re on a mission, out of japan. and the only person who is home and is an adult(kind of) is gojo.

see, gojo doesn’t know how to take care of sick kids. he doesn’t know how to take care of healthy kids, too, but that’s besides the point.

he knows megumi wants you around 24/7 whenever he is sick, but for the past few days, your “presence” could be provided only through calls, and that was a privilege itself since sometimes you were too busy to respond to his calls or call them yourself.

you text satoru and tell him detailed instructions on how exactly he should treat megumi; everything you always do when megumi falls sick, starting from the temperature of the soup he has to eat and ending on the wording of different questions and asks so megumi drinks his medicine too.

but megumi doesn’t eat his soup, he doesn’t drink the syrups that shoko recommended, doesn’t watch the cartoons he always watches, and certainly doesn’t listen to gojo, — all because you aren’t there.

but satoru is. and it hurts him that megumi doesn’t accept his care even though he does realise that he is just a child and throwing tantrums is okay.

—

“when will you be home?” satoru whines into his phone, throwing his head against the pillows on his bed.

megumi rejected him again, choosing to cover his head with a pillow instead of drinking the syrup(admittedly, a disgusting one, gojo thinks), and gojo feels like he is failing.

you sigh on the other end of the line, “tomorrow morning. just— can you try to give him some medicine again?”

“he won’t take it, i’m tellin’ you! he only wants it from you.” gojo rolls his eyes. “how come our kids love you more than me?”

your sweet giggles make him smile, “that’s not true! tsumiki adores you, and megs— well, i think he just can’t express himself yet. but it’s okay, we’ll be fine.”

your voice soothes him and he feels like he can last one more night till you’re home.

“let me talk to him? i’m sure he misses me enough to listen to me.”

gojo leaves his room, quietly, to not wake up tsumiki, who is asleep close to megumi’s, and walks into the latter’s room.

magumi pulls his head out from under the blankets, when he feels gojo’s presence in his room. just as he is about cover up again, he sees the phone that is offered to him and as soon as he notices your name on the screen he snatches it from gojo. he gives the kid privacy and leaves to check on tsumiki.

megumi and you talk for what seems like hours, and when satoru comes back into his room he finds the raven haired boy asleep with the phone clutched in his little hands.

satoru also notes that the syrup and pills he left a long time ago on the bedside table are gone. it’s your magic, for sure.

he shakes his head fondly and takes his phone back with ginger movements, ready to go to his room and talk your ears off about how much he misses you, but the small voice coming from the bed stops him.

“don’t— don’t go.”

it’s megumi, his voice raspy and barely audible, but nonetheless there is a plea satoru never thought he’d hear from the little boy.

he sits down by megumi’s side slowly, eyes carefully scanning his face. is he sick enough to be delusional? maybe he thinks that satoru is you and that’s why he wants him to stay, but in any case, satoru still wants to do whatever he can to help.

megumi moves aside, making space for him. satoru feels like he is frozen in this moment; when he lays down and megumi subtly buries his face in his side, curling into him, with red cheeks. maybe it’s the fever or maybe it’s the affection he craves playing with him, but nonetheless, satoru’s heart is ready to burst with happiness.

he hesitantly brings his hand to megumi’s head, gently smoothing down his unruly locks. a small smile appears on satoru’s lips at the sight of his boy, already asleep.

—

when you return back home, it’s tsumiki who greets you by the door.

she looks at you with a finger over her curved lips, motioning for you to be quiet and follow her. you comply with curiosity in your eyes, and move behind her with careful steps. she is leading you to megumi’s, you soon realise, a smile creeping on your face.

the sight that your eyes set on is one that makes your heart stop. megumi gripping gojo’s arm while the latter hugs him close to himself; it’s the closest they’ve ever been, they will ever be.

you silently step closer and tug the blankets over them, covering both of them better. take a picture to rub it in megumi’s face from time to time. and close the door behind you when you leave, a fond expression on your face as you direct your attention to tsumiki.

#🍥: fic recs #gojo satoru x reader

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