I Started Making A Nanami Fic That I Meant To Post On His Bday But Then Got Side Tracked With Work And

Thank you for the love on the toji ask, I lub u guys 🫶🏻

Keep doing asks, I love doing them hehe

i genuinely hope that boop day inspires everyone to interact more with other tumblr users. because it’s clearly way more fun this way!! even once the boop button is gone, there’s still asks, tag and ask games, comments, dms, fuck it let’s bring back blog rates i don’t care. part of the reason that tumblr is dying is that its way less social than it used to be. let’s fix that!!

NANAMI HELLO?

Mappa I sincerely love you with my entire heart (and pussy)

Just listened to Beyoncé’s new album….got me wantin to do so many cowboy au’s omg…

been wanting to write for a bit now that im done with school for the summer (im still working tho so not 100% free) so i might have stuff for yall soon. Plus i’ve been wanting to post more cuz i feel like my account is so bare and i hate it

oki bye bye for neow

Stepdad Choso and Toji and cold female reader????

This was sent a bit ago but just now had time to write something for it, apologies <3

Tbh I don’t really fuck with stepdad/stepkid stuff…but for this pairing I’ll allow it….

also not quite sure if I made reader cold enough, I don’t know why it was difficult for me to do so, also pretend choso is your step uncle because hes best friends with toji in this. Also not sure if you wanted seperate or together, i made it together so i hope you don’t mind.

-somewhat edited-

MDNI

masterlist

wc: 3.3k

tw: age gap (reader mid 20s, toji and choso in their 40s), Toji is a facebook user(lol), a glock makes an appearance (you’ll see why lmao), no mention of protection (wrap it up), fingering, Oral (m recieving), piv sex, sort of rough but not totally. (please lmk if i’m missing anything)

The sun had been down for a few hours, the moon and stars starring at you through your new floor to ceiling windows. You were sitting in your apartment that you had just bought, relishing in the comfort of your new home. You had gotten a great position for work right of college and were overall living the dream at the moment. Everything was so peaceful and quiet, sipping on wine enjoying the new atmosphere. However your quiet was soon ruined when you heard the ring of your new doorbell.

Throwing your head back and groaning, you sat up and sat your wine glass on the coffee table in front of your couch. Putting on your slippers, you make your way to the front door. Not even looking through the peephole, you open the door enough to show your face but not your body with a deadpanned face. The sight in front of you was definitly not what you were expecting at this late hour.

Standing in front of of you was your step-dad Toji , or well ex step-dad considering your mother had dumped him a year ago, and he best friend Choso. They had smirks on their faces while holding what you assumed was a gift considering the bag and the tissue paper stuffed in it.

“Hey cupcake.” Toji spoke after a few seconds of staring at each other.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” You ask him and Choso, poking your hip out and keeping a hand on the door, not fully letting it open.

“Saw on facebook you got a fancy new job and new apartment, thought me and your favorite uncle could bring ya a new housewarming gift.” Toji had said motioning over to Choso and the gift in their hands. Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms at the two of them.

“Yeah and you know you aren’t in the family now that you and mom are done.” You quirk your eyebrows at him and Choso. They chuckle knowing you’re technically right.

“Well, still can’t hurt to bring a loved one a gift no?” This time Choso speaks up. You look over at him and see a small smile on his face. The face that still adorns the tattoo he’s had the entire time you knew him. You just scoff and turn over your shoulder, leaving the door open to let them in. As you walk towards your kitchen and turn on the lights, you grabb two more glasses for wine to accompany yours.

As you walk in your apartment the men follow behind you, but as they do so they realize what you’re wearing. When you had opened the door you had your body hidden by the door mostly, hiding quite the sight for the two men.

Considering you thought you weren’t going to be seeing anyone for the rest of the day, you had showered and put on just an old large t-shirt and a pair of underwear. The t-shirt went down to at least your mid thighs, but still left quite the image for the two men following behind you. Once they had met you in the kitchen, you poured the wine and handed it to the two of them.

The two accepted the glasses with quiet thank you’s, setting your gift on the island table in your kitchen. While they took a few sips of their wine, you went into the living room to grab your wine and return to the kitchen. When you returned to the kitchen, Toji spoke first.

“Open your gift cupcake.” He told you with his usual smirk, leaning over and pushing the gift towards. You roll your eyes and grab the gift.

Grabbing the tissue paper out of the bag, you see a box wrapped in wrapping paper. You glance at the two of them, raising a questionable eyebrow. They just laugh and motion for you to keep going. You grab the box at the bottom and pick it up, realizing its actually very heavy.

“What the fuck did you get me?” You ask the two of them as you start ripping the paper off. Once you got the wrapping paper off you see its actually a small case, having latches on it that you have to open. When you turn the case to the latches, you click them up and open the mysterious case. When the case finally opens the absolute shock that waves onto your face made the two men bark out laughing.

Sitting in front of you on a cushioned piece of foam was a small black hand gun with gold embellishments.

“Are you fucking crazy!” You slam the case shut and stare at the two men across the counter.

“What cupcake, when I found out you moved out from your mom’s I thought I’d buy you some protection you know, since daddy and uncle ain’t here to protect you.” Toji smirks over at you, Choso chuckling along with him. You huff out an annoyed scoff, moving to the side of the counter that the two men were on.

“I don’t need a whole ass gun though, I don’t even know how to use that thing. Also you aren’t my daddy and uncle anymore.” You sternly tell him, poking him in his very muscular chest. You see Toji look over to choso when you do so, the two sharing a knowing look. Next thing you know Choso is taking a step closer to you and Toji is grabbing onto the hand that’s poking him in the chest.

Looking up at the two men in front of you now, Toji holding onto your hand giving it a tight squeeze. Your face had gone hot and red.

“Oh you sure about that cupcake?” Toji looks down at with a huge grin now. You look between the two and your brain just goes fuzzy.

To be honest you were always aware of the attractiveness between the two men surrounding you. You could always feel the lingering gazes that would be on you when you would visit your mom during college, along with Chosos anytime he was around to. You obviously never played on it though because Toji was with your mom at the time and Choso would be around and act like a ‘step uncle’.

Trying to muster up what little strength you had, you tried to struggle out of the hold from Toji.

“Aw shes trying to run.” This time Choso spoke up, stepping closer now so his hands were holding onto your waist over your large shirt. This made you stop moving and just stand still. You could feel the arousal starting to pool in your panties but you still didn’t want to admit to anything. You huffed and look away from the two men, avoiding any sort of eye contact from the two. This made the two of them share a look and chuckle at your silly acts of trying to ignore them. You weren’t sure what they had planned but it seemed like this was all a set up they had previously thought out. Next thing you know, Toji is moving his hand up your from your hand and settling to your throat so he could force you to look up at him.

“I think we need to teach little one a lesson or two hm? Make sure who she remembers who’s in charge yeah?” Toji says down at you, Choso humming in agreement behind you.

The next thing that happens is you being thrown over a shoulder and walked down to your bedroom. All you could see was your new tile floors as you were carried to your new room

You’re thrown onto your bed that laid in the center of your room. By doing so the big t-shirt that you’d put on had risen to now your mid stomach, exposing your panties you had beneath. The two men stood over you, one on each side of the bed. Toji was at your feet and Choso was your head.

At this point you couldn’t even hide the arousal that was pooling between your legs. There was a very evident spot wetting on your panties the two men could clearly see. Toji didn’t even give you a chance to try and close your legs, grabbing onto them and keeping them spread with a strong grip. Choso had also grabbed onto you, gripping your arms and keeping them above your head.

“Aw look at her Choso, she’s soaked right through these.” Toji says, grabbing the side of your panties, pulling it and snapping it against the skin of your hip. This makes you let out a small whine, trying to pull away from the two of them even though you know it won’t work. Choso then decides to run his hands up your arms, roaming over your breast over the t-shirt you’re wearing. He gives a gentle squeeze before talking.

“I think we should take this off, shouldn’t we fushiguro?” He said before grabbing the bottom of your t-shirt as Toji mumbles out an agreement. Within seconds your shirt is off and thrown across the room somewhere, leaving your chest exposed to two of them. Due to your restrains you couldn’t put any arms across your chest for any kind of modesty. This made you slightly annoyed considering the two men were still full dressed, so you finally speak.

“You know Its quite rude that i’m the only naked one here.” You tell them, staring into Tojis eyes.

“Oh, she speaks?” Toji responds with his usual smirk on his face. He still had a strong grip on your thighs. Now they moved down your thighs, getting very close to your last remaining piece of clothing.

“Well you heard the lady.” Choso speaks up, releasing your arms and going to take his shirt off jeans. Toji followed after his friend, releasing your legs and also taking off his shirt and his pants as well. Once they had gotten down to their boxers they looked back at you and grab onto again.

“All better princess?” Choso stares down into your eyes, leaning over a bit to where his chain that he was wearing dangled in your face. Now you felt like you couldn’t speak again and just slightly nodded at them. You eyes quickly shot down to wear Tojis was grabbing out your legs again and grabbing onto your underwear.

“Now time for these cupcake.” He tells you before slowly dragging them down your legs. This time you got a small bit of time to try and close your legs as Toji removed your panties. Though within seconds of you smacking your legs together, Tojis hands were on your knees pulling them apart, leaving you all exposed.

“Oh look at this, all nice and wet for us huh?” Toji says out loud to the group, taking a finger and running it up your slit. All this made you let out a big whine as Toji continued to run his fingers through your slick, gathering the wetness on his fingers. Once he had enough on his fingers, he brought them up to his mouth and gave a small lick. Toji let out a hum of satisfaction at your taste before gesturing his hand to choso so he could get a taste as well.

Choso wrapped his lips around Tojis fingers, sucking the taste of you off of them and humming in agreement to Toji. See the sight of them like that let out a small moan, shifting trying to rub your thighs together for some kind of stimulation. Of course the two men notice and grin down at you.

“Aw does the princess want something now.” Choso speaks down at you but this time putting a hand on your face, poking at your pout you had on. You muster enough encouragement to let out a small ‘yes please’ to the two men.

“Oh now she wants something.” Toji speaks as he grips and pulls your thighs apart again, setting a hand on the flat of your stomach and dragging it closer to your entrance. Soon he’s circling your clit with his thumb and dipping a finger into you. This immeaditaly makes your back arch off the bed. You haven’t felt a touch like this for a long time, so it was doing quite a lot for you. Choso took the opportunity to reach down and grab onto one of your breast, giving it hard squeeze and pinching at your nipple. This made you let out a louder moan, arching into both men.

Toji can feel you squeezing around one finger, so he adds another for your pleasure. Soon both men are working in tandem trying to bring you to a quick release. Toji speeds up his rhythm on your clit, making you squirm in reach of a release. Looking for something to grab onto in your wiggling, you grab onto Choso hip, gripping the fabric of his boxers. It wasn’t long before you were actually gushing around Toji’s fingers.

“Ah-I-!” Was all you could get out as you came. Your chest was heaving up and down as you came down from your high.

“There we go, look how relaxed you are now.” Choso said, looking down at your heaving figure. Once you sort of calmed down and get a clear vision, you look up at the two men. They both look down at you, but to they don’t share that exhausted look that you have. If anything, they look like they just had a small warm up. This is how you knew they weren’t done with you and you had more coming.

“Oh don’t be tired yet cupcake. We got more in store for you.” Toji says pulling you a little closer to his side of the bed. Once you were closer Toji pressed his front to your bare cunt. You could feel how hard he was through his underwear, becoming well aware how big he was below the fabric. This made you clench around nothing which Toji could easily tell while he was smirking down at you.

“Now cupcake, you’re gonna sit here and let your favorite daddy and uncle take care of you right?” Toji said down at you with his teeth shining at you. All you could really do in this moment was nod your head and let out a small yes to the man in front of you. After you nodded your head Toji let go of your thighs, going to grab onto the fabric of his boxers, finally pulling them down to reveal his cock.

When you felt that it was big, seeing it just confirmed it. Large and slightly curved with veins running up and down it, your eyes bulged out of their socket at just the sight of it. You couldn’t even think on how it’ll actually fit into you. Toji noticed your eyes and gave out a small chuckle.

“Don’t worry cupcake, we’ll make it fit just fine.” He somewhat assured you before slowly dragging it up your wet cunt. When it dragged against your clit you immediately flinched from the stimulation. Still not totally recovered from your first high, this brought a whole new wave of pleasure to you. Toji slowly dragged down to your entrence, prodding it with his tip. When he finally pushed his tip in, it was like seeing stars again.

“Fuck- there we go cupcake.” Toji groaned out as he slowly pushed into you. Once he was fully in you couldn’t even see anymore. Your back was arched off the bed and your arms were grabbing onto Toji’s forearms. His grip tightend on your hips once he was in and stilled.

In the mix of all this going on, you failed to notice that choso had taken his underwear off and was stroking his cock behind you. Once you had grown accustomed to Toji’s cock, you tilted your head back to look back at Choso cock which was awfully close to your face now. Choso noticed that you had your eyes on his cock now and smiled down at you.

“Come on princess, open up that smart mouth.” Choso grips his cock, moving it close to your mouth. You don’t have much of a say and just open your mouth as wide as you could. His mouth was almost equally as large as Tojis with it’s own set of veins on it, so it was a bit of struggle trying to accommodate it in your mouth.

As you struggle to fit Chosos cock in your mouth you felt Toji start to move inside of you. He pulled back and started slow but harsh thrust into your cunt. As Toji was doing this, Choso was sliding his cock in and out of your mouth. You tried to not choke around his cock but it was pretty difficult not to. You could feel him reaching the back of your throat with every thrust, making you gag every few seconds.

“Fuck, princess. Doing so well for us.” Choso let out a moan, tossing his head back and grabbing onto one of your breast, giving a tight squeeze and tweaking at your nipple. Toji was giving you deep thrust that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. He moved his hand towards your clit, rubbing fast but precise circles over it. All of the pleasure was starting to get a lot for you, you couldn’t help but start letting out tears from your eyes and choking out moans around Choso’s cock.

“Come on cupcake, give it to us.” Toji demanded at you, quickening his thrust into your soaking cunt. You could feel yourself quickly approaching a release, gripping at your new bed sheets below you. After a few harsh thrust, you were soaking Toji’s cock with your cum which he was thrusting right back into you.

“Fuck- yeah that’s right, soak his cock princess.” Choso groaned, his hips stuttering with his thrust into your mouth.

It wasn’t long before the two men followed you. Choso was first, letting out a moan as he came down your throat, that you had basically no choice but to swallow. Choso slowly left your mouth, giving you a second to breath. Toji was right after him, giving a few last hard thrust before exiting your cunt and spilling all over your stomach.

Now that both men had left your body, you all sat there for moment, catching your breaths. The two of them sat on the bed next to your layed out figure, rubbing soothing hands up and down your body as your recovered from everything.

After a few minutes, Toji got up to go to your bathroom to grab something to wipe you down. As he was doing that, Choso left to go to your kitchen to grab a glass of water for you two. When they both came back, you were barely awake at this point, your body completely exhausted from everything. Toji quickly cleaned you off while choso sat you up enough to take a few sips of water before laying you back down. They pulled back the covers of your bed before maneuvering you under them, the two of them joining you on either sides of your body.

Toji layed an arm under your head and gave your a small kiss on your forehead,while Choso wrapped his around your waist, both men moving close to you. However you didn’t wanna let them completely settle before mentioning something.

“I don’t need a gun just so you know.” You mumbled as you quickly approached the dream world. The two men chuckle down at you, not far behind with their own sleep.

“Whatever you say cupcake.” Is all you hear before drifting off to sleep.

—————————————————

feel free to tip

a/n: If you didn’t see my post from a few days ago, just wanna say thank you so much for 100 followers. I know it’s not a lot and my fics aren’t super amazing so I appreciate every like, reblog, and comment. So thank you so much and hope you enjoyed this and my other works. xoxo Liv

Just imagine you and buggy chillin in his tent or whatever on his little chair, you on his lap ofc. Like I can just see y’all making out and things getting all heated and then someone interrupt y’all and him getting all mad.

Babeeeessss, give me your best choso fics. Feel like I’m in heat over this fuckin man.

As you can tell by my TikTok saves:

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

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

✧ pairing: nanami kento x sorcerer!reader

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

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

✧ wc: 7,657

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…maybe he spoke too soon. 

~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did this feel so much worse?” 

~~~

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

Or rather he should have. 

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

You got it from here. 

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

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

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

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

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

Until they take his body away. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No—” and your hand finds his chest. 

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

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

~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t—“ 

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why?” 

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kento—“ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~

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

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

And now, here was the other. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he knew that he was certainly made for you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

It was over. 

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

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

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

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

And a beach in Malaysia. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Itadori,” Mahito says. 

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

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

Could he finally stop? 

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

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

But he couldn’t regret it now. 

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

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

It was you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—“ 

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

“It’s not—“ 

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

“It’s really not that bad—” 

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

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

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

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

Always. 

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

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

Imagine you’re just doing it with Shikamaru and he pulls away suddenly and you’re like “tf” then he starts doing hand signs and next thing you know you’re all wrapped up in shadow hands to the bed post.

You smirk up at Shikamaru, “Didn’t know you liked it kinky.” He rolls his eyes at you and comes back down to your face.

“Yea well you’re about to find out.”