#Nanami jjk

[swuumi]

thinking about kento who is sick.

he loathes getting sick. it makes him unable to do more productive things, he thinks that being sick just holds him back from progressing on something.

he did figure out that it would lead to this due to the amount of overworking, not getting enough sleep and barely eating throughout the day.

“kento, come on. don’t be stubborn, you can’t go to work like this! you’re just gonna make your cold worse and possibly infect others!”

“i’ll be fine... just a couple of tylenols and i’ll feel better. don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”

“nuh uh, you’re gonna stay in bed and rest. you are not going to work!” you huff, tucking him in.

of course you’re not gonna let him get up.

“but—”

“no means no, kento.” you quickly cut him off, offering him the thermometer.

“i’ll go and make you something to eat so you can take your medicine, okay? i’ll get you a cold towel too.” giving his forehead a quick peck as you leave the room.

“alright...”

don’t get him wrong, he loves it when his wife takes care of him! it’s just that he feels like he’s a burden. with you having to tend to his needs, taking care of him, even staying up just to check on him!

kento’s thoughts were snapped as you open the door.

“how’s your temperature?” you come close to him as you place the cold cloth on his forehead.

“38.7...” he sighed, facing the other direction.

“and you still think that you can go to work when your temp is pushing 39?”

“no...” he mumbled, looking back to you.

“come on, sit up. you need to eat, it’s probably the reason why you’re in this state right now. i keep reminding you to eat, and what do you do?” offering help for him to sit up.

“prioritize work... please, enough scolding... i’m trying to learn my lesson.” his voice was hoarse.

“i’m not scolding you, ken. i’m just saying, you have to balance everything. you have yo eat on time, get enough rest and lastly, no more overtime.” punctuating the last three words.

“sorry, you have to take care of me...”

“hey, i have no problems with taking care of you. i love it, actually.” you smile softly at him.

you’re like an angel, just saving him from this damned misery, his fever.

“you’re so...”

“‘so’ what, ken?”

“you’re so pretty...”

he’s tearing up.

“thank you, baby.”

you wipe the droplet falling from his cheek and kissed him.

you know it’s just the fever acting up but you find kento in this state, cute and pitiful...

you know that once he gets better, whatever reminders you mentioned to him, he’d forget. he just ends up getting sick again.

but... you wouldn’t mind taking care of your husband, right?

[wibben]

Premium Air

----------------------------------------------------------

“Oooh, Kentooo—”

Your sing-song lilt carried through the door as you shouldered your way inside, precariously balancing keys and groceries and your coat sleeves and your phone and everything in your arms. The door thunked shut behind you with a deft bump of your hip, and your voice practically dripped with syrupy mischief.

You were always happy to come home to your husband. But tonight you were practically bursting at the seams.

The prank had planted itself in your brain during an idle moment of scrolling earlier – a viral video of some poor soul falling hook, line, and sinker for their partner’s insistence they’d paid for “premium air” in their tires.

The disbelief. The sheer, helpless outrage. It was perfect.

What other choice did you have, really?

You had to try it on Kento.

The warm scents of garlic and herbs welcomed you home like an old friend as you stepped into the kitchen where Kento stood – apron-clad and sleeves rolled to his elbows – methodically slicing vegetables. It was a scene straight out of some too-perfect ad for domestic bliss.

“Welcome home,” he smiled, not even glancing up, the low rumble of his voice curling warmly around the words. “How was your day?”

���Good,” you said lightly, sidling up to the counter where he worked, the marble smooth under your fingertips. Your hand found its way to his hip – a quick squeeze – before plucking at the apron strings knotted snugly at his waist. “I got air in the tires while I was out, by the way.”

“Good,” he said simply, pausing in his work just long enough to catch you by the waist. The kiss he pressed to your brow was automatic, familiar, and warm in a way that settled your nerves even as your grin threatened to betray you. “Thank you for taking care of that.”

You lingered for a beat, fiddling with a kitchen towel, busying yourself with nothing in particular while you readied your pièce de résistance. Straight face, poker face, you could do it—

“Mhm!” you chirped, as if it had just occurred to you. “I got the premium air, actually. So we should be good for a while.”

The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board stuttered, then stopped entirely.

You didn’t dare look at him, instead scrubbing furiously at an invisible stain on the counter. “Premium air?”

“Yeah!” Your tone brightened, easy as if you’d snagged the deal of a lifetime. “Supposed to last longer or something. Smoother ride. The guy said it’s good for fuel efficiency, too.”

He turned now, his full attention leveled on you. Arms crossed, brow furrowing just slightly, like a storm cloud gathering on the horizon, and you knew you had him.

“How much did it cost?”

You hesitated, just long enough to sell it. “... Five hundred dollars.”

His lips parted slightly, brows climbing toward his hairline. For a moment, he just stared, the silence heavy with disbelief. Then his eyes slid shut, and he let out a long, resigned sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as though you’d planted a headache just beneath his fingertips.

“Five hundred dollars,” he repeated, his voice somewhere between incredulous and exasperated. “For air.”

You shrugged, biting back a grin so wide it hurt. “Well, it’s premium.”

“Did he give you a receipt?”

He scoffed, already moving for his phone. His thumb hovered over the screen, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he muttered under his breath, “... taking advantage of someone like that – what kind of business are they running…”

Your lip caught between your teeth as you tried – and nearly failed – not to laugh.

“Nope. Said the machine was down.”

“Where did you go?” he demanded, steel laced his tone, though not for you – never for you. His frustration, his righteous indignation, was aimed squarely at whoever had dared, in his mind, to deceive you. “Which shop? I’ll handle this.”

You decided enough was enough, then. He was sufficiently prickly and you’d gotten your satisfaction from his defense of you, the armor he donned just for you without hesitation. It was time to put an end to it before he marched out the door, ready to wage war on the world in your honor all because of some unscrupulous mechanic that doesn’t exist.

“Kento—” you started, fighting to keep the laughter from spilling over, but he cut you off, glasses nudged firmly back into place as he muttered to himself, “They think they can pull something like that on you? On you?”

He paused mid-dial, a flicker of something indecipherable passing over his face as he looked at you. His tone was steady as ever.

“Did they at least refill your blinker fluid while you were there?”

You blinked. “My what?”

“Blinker fluid,” he repeated, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “And grease the horn. That’s critical for winter. It’ll seize up if you don’t.”

Your mouth opened, the beginnings of indignation clawing up your throat, but he pressed on, nodding as though delivering sage advice from on high. “And the engine,” he added thoughtfully. “I hope they waxed it. People always forget to wax the engine.”

“Wax the–? That’s not even—”

He exhaled, heavy and martyred, as though the weight of your ignorance had become his cross to bear. “I should double-check,” he muttered, already setting the knife on the board and moving to step past you. “And the muffler oil. Did they top that off? Or are we going to have to go back tomorrow?”

“No!” you yelped, darting into his path and planting both hands against his chest to halt his progress. “Wait – Kento, no! You don’t have to check anything!”

His momentum stilled, his palms settling lightly over your wrists, warm and unhurried, as he looked down at you with an almost clinical curiosity. “No?” he repeated. “I need to make sure your car is safe to drive, I won’t have you getting into an accident because your engine isn’t properly waxed.”

You wilted under his scrutiny, exasperation bubbling to the surface in a huff. “No! There’s no such thing as blinker fluid, or muffler oil, or… or premium air! I made it all up! It’s a prank, Kento. A joke. You’re not actually supposed to believe it.”

There was a beat of silence, his expression so unreadable you began to second-guess whether the joke was on you. And then – his lips twitched. It was the faintest movement, barely perceptible, but it unraveled into a low, rumbling laugh that warmed the space between you like the crackle of a hearth. His smile – soft and indulgent – followed close behind.

“You thought I’d fall for premium air?” he asked, his voice thick with amusement, hands sliding up to frame your shoulders with infuriating ease. “You thought that would work?”

Your protest died on your lips, replaced by a flustered splutter, as he guided you backward with a careful pressure. The countertop met your hips, the cool edge sharp against the warmth radiating from him. His hands didn’t leave your shoulders, steady and grounding, until he was satisfied you wouldn’t bolt.

“That would only work if I thought you were stupid enough to fall for something as ridiculous as that. You’re too smart for that, and I know it.”

“... but you’re staying right here where I can keep an eye on you,” he hummed, his breath brushing your temple as he leaned past you to retrieve his knife. “Clearly, you’re not to be trusted.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Oh really?”

“That’s right.” He resumed chopping, his voice maddeningly even as though you hadn’t just been maneuvered into a corner like some errant schoolchild. “Five hundred for premium air. Honestly.”

“I was trying to prank you!”

“And you failed,” he said smoothly, glancing at you with a smirk that sent your blood pressure soaring. “But next time, you might want to pick something a little more believable. Like… gold-plated windshield wipers.”

A groan escaped you as you thunked your forehead against his shoulder in an act of theatrical despair. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. Without missing a beat, he tapped a freshly chopped carrot slice against your pursed lips. “Now, stop sulking and taste this for me.”

[chaiwithmybeloved]

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader.

Description: Hitting (on) a stranger with a shopping cart was not on your grocery list.

Word count: 1k

The lights in this grocery store are too warm for your liking.

Too warm, too dim. You suppose it goes well with the aesthetic of the brand but it's almost fucking impossible to check the fine print on the imported pistachio spread that you've been holding for the last 15 minutes.

You cannot risk buying something so expensive without knowing when it expires. You grimace at the amount of produce in your cart that's going to cost a chunk of your paycheck and put the jar back on the shelf saying a silent goodbye.

Steering the trolley to the front of the store, the angel on your shoulder scolds you for thinking it was good idea to visit a gourmet grocery store.

In your defense, this place wasn't your first choice either. The regular grocery store was 5 miles closer to your place and handed out amazing discounts too, but—

"You're not going to believe who I saw at S-Mart."

"Was it..." Adjusting the phone between your shoulder and ear, your frowned as the layer of purple nail polish smeared on the skin of your toe. "...your biochem crush?"

Your friend sighs, "I wish. It was your ex-situationship, though. Anyways, I hope you've blocked him..."

Her voice fades and the carpet is stained purple.

No. You couldn't risk running into him, even if that's all you've wanted. So, you drive— 20 minutes out of your way— to be as far as possible from the bittersweet memories of the ice cream isle.

You almost hit someone with your cart. Panic sets inside you. What if it's some rich snob who would set their lawyers on you like a pack of dogs? It wasn't your fault the wheels were wobbly!

"I'm so sorry," you bend quickly, to pick up the fruit that had slipped from their hand. As you stand straight, a pair of formal shoes, khaki pants, a half tucked blue shirt and a loose tie meets your eyes.

"It's alright," the smooth voice has you looking up faster than your brain can process. "No harm done." Thin lips, gentle crook of his nose where a pair of spectacles rest, hiding his beautiful brown, maybe a little tired, eyes.

The devil on your shoulder calls you an embarrassment. You hold out your hand and he takes the apple, adding it to his cart. "Thank you."

A number of wooden carts are arranged before you, each containing different colours and varieties of apples; Fuji, Gala, Honey crisp, Kashmir—

Reaching out for the Granny Smith, you're impressed with how big they are. Instinctively, you smell them: sweet yet tart.

You add one to your shopping cart, eager to go home and taste it. The last batch your vendor had brought were pathetic—

"Excuse me, would you mind picking them out for me. I can't tell the good one's apart." The man asks, showing you his selection. Small and weirdly round with red streaks.

"Calville Blanc?"

He nods, "I've read that they have a high amount of Vitamin C."

You try not to fall on your knees. Beautiful and intelligent? Maybe gourmet grocery stores weren't so bad after all.

"They do," you select a few from the paper bag and replace them with better quality ones. "But if you're looking for Vitamin C, citrus fruits are the best."

He doesn't reply. Not for a whole minute. "My son—"

Oh. OH.

The angel slaps her forehead. You wanted to suck off a married man!

He doesn't have a ring. The devil makes a fair point.

"—doesn't like oranges. Or anything orange flavored. I've been trying to get his Vitamin C levels up."

"Does he like lemonade?" You try to maintain a normal conversation. He looks pretty young to have a child.

"Yeah," The stranger nods. "Will that help?"

You nod and hands rest on the handle of your shopping cart, feeling dirty for lusting after a married man. "It would be more pocket friendly than spending...5,499 ¥— shit, that's pricey."

Great, now he thinks you're broke. Clumsy and broke.

The man laughs and you get a warm feeling in your stomach. "That was my first thought too."

Two of you make it to the check out counter, standing behind an older, definitely richer, woman. Her cart is full, to the brim and the cashier looks like they're in pain.

"How old is he?" You ask. The blond falls for the marketing gimmicks, taking a cartoon keychain off the rack.

"Turns six, soon."

"If he's fond of apples, you could buy regular ones and squeeze some lemon juice on them."

The man nods, "Thank you. He's a picky eater but—"

"Every child is."

"Exactly."

You move ahead in the line and the cashier is relieved to see your minimalist cart.

"You should try Golden Plate on 5th street." A shameless self promotion. "They have customisable kids menu."

"That would make things a lot easier. Apparently, he hates everything nutritious," He sighs. A notification on his phone goes off and you get to see a glimpse of a pink haired child, smiling brightly with a floating tube around under his little chubby arms.

"You seem to know a lot about kids," The man clears his throat, unsure how to phrase his words.

"I know a lot about food," you correct him, looking back. "Sometimes I make meals for my colleague's daughter, so I know how to hide the greens."

The word tumbles right out of his mouth. "How—"

The cashier clicks some buttons. "Your total is..."

It physically hurts you to pull out your wallet and hand over the card. A quick swipe and you're being handed your paper bags.

The cool AC air greets you at the exit doors. Should you wait for him? The stranger has an unfairly gorgeous side profile as he unloads the cart items. You almost smile at the heart eyes the cashier gives him.

He doesn't look your way and you walk towards the parking lot.

The sunset looks prettier, the air seems lighter and like some cheesy sitcom lead, you hope that you get to see him again.

(Spoiler: you do.)

[tsukimirecs]

kento nanami // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

4th avenue viewing

strangers on a train

less than zero

ups and downs

play

nights in tokyo

selfish

pride is the devil

i need some wine and you, you need to be nicer

lovefoolish

banana bread with nanami kento

bride-to-be

chaos theory

simple pleasures

a trip to the tailor's

ave maria.

convenience (store) marriage

interrupted

heaven (is a place on earth with you)

tender loving care

a bento for kento

you've got a fetish for my love

[kanekisfavoritegf]

full fic here

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin Humps his sheets unknowingly when he dreams about you.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin swore off dating when working as a sorcerer until you came into his life.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin asks you out politely, despite the fear of being incompetent due to his lack of not only sexual relationships but emotional ones too.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin would offer to make you dinner at his place, and drink wine on his couch by the fire place.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin is absolutely mortified when he cums in his pants after you kissed him for the first time.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin is comforted by the way you treat him the exact same after he explains his lack of physical and emotional experience.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin finds himself pinning you to the couch and kissing you harder, keeping you down with his hips and making sure your legs are wrapped around him as he does so.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin doesn’t even care that his already stained pants seem to be getting worse as he rubs into you because you are letting out the sweetest moans for him.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin would beg you breathlessly between wet hot kisses and needily to teach him.

Teach him how to be your perfect lover in more ways than one.

[chariaki]

Lover's quarell

A teensy weensy bit of smut!

Husband!Nanami who's big hands cup your cheeks, head dips to your level and kisses your lips to shut you up mid arguement. It wouldn't just be a normal "kiss". It'd be the type of kiss where his head moves slowly in sync with his lips kissing yours, with saliva mixed together, his tongue in your mouth. You'd always hear his deap moans and grunts, the way he inhales in your kiss, desperate for air. His big body caving into yours as if your legs didn't just buckle up on his waist to beckon him closer.

And when he pulls away for some air, your saliva and his would connect your bruised lips to his lipstick-stained ones.

Husband!Nanami who lifts you up and puts you on his shoulders when you told him to "take what's yours and leave for the night."

Husband!Nanami who walks closer to you, places his big, warm hands on your shoulders and lowers his face to plant a kiss on your forehead. Your eyes. Your nose. Your lips. It wouldn't just be a simple peck. It's a slow, wet and passionate kiss full of sincerity, love and adoration for you.

Husband!Nanami who would whisper: "let me make it right, love." in your ears while his cock is burried deep inside of you. Gently thrusting in and out while rubbing your back, your sides, your waist. He just wants to relieve your stress, and what better way to do that than to fuck it out of you using his fat cock that you love so dearly.

Husband!Nanami who understands his short coming and mistakes. He acknowledges your feelings and most importantly, he communicates. He sincerely apologizes with his eyes glued to yours, hands embracing your, body faced to yours. He asks you how can do better and, indeed, does better.

Husband!Nanami who tightly embraces you in bed after your arguement. Chest pressed to your back, arms to your tummy, head on the crook of your neck, lips kissing the blade of your shoulder. His body would never leave yours, no matter how hot it is. He's afraid he to lose you, so he hugs you tightly to prevent you from literally leaving.

Husband!Nanami who cooks your breakfast with a heart shaped omelette with words on top that say "I'm sorry ❤️" in ketchup. Alongside your favorite dish and coffee just the way you like it. It's not unusual for him to cook you breakfast or any other meals, it's just that most of the time, you wake up earliet than him to cook for him. So, of course, even if you didn't argue, Nanami would occasionally beat you to waking up early and preparing a breakfast in bed for you.

Husband!Nanami who demands you to hold his hand the whole day after every argument. This is because you're usually stubborn and avoidant. He doesn't want you to be awkward and distant. He doesn't need you to talk to him if you don't feel like it. A simple hold from your hands is plenty of reassurance for him and you.

[o4i0n]

came across a tiktok where the bride surprises the groom with her ‘spicy’ photos throughout their wedding day and all i can think of is pulling a stunt like that with nanami .. the embarrassingly bright flush that appears in red splotches below his neck that creeps up his ears; the way he blinks at the polaroids you discreetly slip into his clammy hand before he looks at you, then away again as he clears his throat to dismiss his reaction; the flustered smile that quirks up at the corner of his lips as he chuckles because the timing could not be any more perfect (for you, at least. it isn’t for him but he’d let it slide).

the pictures aren’t too explicit—god knows you’ve been more brazen in the past with your now-husband. they’re sensual, tasteful, and you know that they’re just right when kento tries to pull you away to somewhere secluded during the busy moments in between your reception since he told you that your guests can wait a few minutes. you tell him no, not yet, but not without handing him another polaroid.

even if he kind of expected it, he can never truly prepare himself when he flits his eyes down. you’re donned in lingerie that hugs your body in all the right places, and best of all, the set you’re wearing shares the same shade of blue as his signature dress shirt.

he can’t wait for the formalities to end.

[sanemistar]

᧔o᧓ husband!kento x wife!reader, established relationship, domestic fluff, requested by @luvnami <3 (i hope you don’t mind the headcanons, i just wanted to include as many fluff themes as possible <3)

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who never misses his good morning and good night kisses to you.

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who gets you a bouquet of your favorite flowers almost every day, because he knows how much you love them.

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who almost never eats outside because he loves when you cook dinner for him after a long day of work, takeout can never stand a chance against your cooking.

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who praises you for every little thing you do for him, because you deserve to be praised all the time.

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who rests his head on your lap as he grabs one of his favorite books to read, your thighs are far more comfortable and warmer than any pillow.

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who lets you do his tie for him every time, not because he doesn’t know how to. but because he likes having your hands all over his chest.

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who loves giving you back massages when you feel exhausted (it’s mostly just an excuse for him to touch you)

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who brings you breakfast to bed every morning, you're his wife so you're definitely getting that princess treatment.

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who does the house chores for you when you're tired, even if he's also pretty tired himself. your comfort is his most important priority.

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who takes pride in calling you his wife, you have everything he’s ever asked for and more.

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who never lets go of your hand when you two are walking together in public, especially in crowded areas. you will never be separated, not on his watch.

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who lets you pick his clothes for him every time you two go shopping for clothes.

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who loves to travel with you on his days off, he wants to see the world with you by his side.

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who expresses his love for you using the most romantic book quotes.

ᡣ𐭩 | husband!kento who’s still head over heels for you every day as if he’s falling in love with you all over again for the first time.

୨୧ taglist: @spkyssn @yueliie @ayrastv | back: jjk m.list

[bluelockmaniac]

“pftt– kento, what did you just say?” a wholehearted laugh bursts from your lips, your body hunching over as you smack your knee senselessly. you look at nanami, urging him to repeat his words.

your newlywed husband stares at you like you had gone crazy, brows furrowed in confusion. he sits on the edge of the bed next to you, his thick fingers fumbling to loosen his tie as he clears his throat.

“i said, are we going to do the birds and the bees...?”

you couldn't hold it any longer. with a loud thud, you throw yourself back onto the bed, rolling on the mattress with your arms clutching your stomach as you try to catch your breath.

“ahahaha, oh my gosh. baby, you're so funny.” you manage to gasp out between fits of laughter. you wipe off the pearly tears that had gathered at the corners of your eyes, your cheeks aching from the wide grin plastered across your face. “do people even still say that?!” 

“ah.” nanami immediately turns his head away from you, his eyes darting to the floor as he desperately tries to avoid eye contact. he could feel the warmth blooming up his cheeks and dusting his the tips of his ears a soft pink.

“—and that euphemism refers to teaching people about sex, not the action itself, hahaha.” you state matter-of-factly, adding salt to his wound with a teasing smile.

you watch as nanami shrinks from embarrassment. perhaps he was a bit outdated. he propped his elbows on his knees, hiding his face in his hands. “sweetheart, i'm not sure if i'm mentally ready to do this now.” he mumbles awkwardly.

you positioned yourself in front of nanami, effortlessly prying his large hands away from his face. “hah? no way,” you shake your head, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “this is our wedding night. i want us enjoy ourselves and do the... birds and the bees together–" you bite your bottom lip to stifle your laughter.

he was not impressed. needless to say, your teasing led to a rather merciless night. but, you did not mind it one bit. in fact, nanami soon noticed that you had developed an obsession with the birds perched outside your window and the bees hovering over flowers in your garden.

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[emmyrosee]

Kento is… stressed.

You’ll be back any minute with the confidence that Kento has fed Aina, given her a small bath, then taken her for naptime. And normally, kento is more than comfortable and confident in his abilities to provide that security in your expectations.

But Aina is not eating. She wants nothing to do with the food he’s trying to feed her. Every time he tries to nudge the spoon close to her face, she screams and pushes it away. He doesn’t have other food to give her, this is what the pediatrician recommended so naturally, that’s what you both bought.

And she wants nothing to do with it.

In a desperate attempt to make his little girl eat, he takes a spoonful onto the plastic spoon, his heart breaking as his little girl winces in distress. “Here, here, my love, see-“ he takes the spoonful into his mouth, and almost immediately, spits it back out into his palm, groaning in agony at the taste.

Him and Aina stare for a moment, then two, before suddenly, her chubby cheeks curl into a smile. He shakes his head and makes a move to the sink to wash his hands, “I’m not feeding you that. No. That’s abhorrent.”

She merely giggles more and fists the banana mush on her tray. He chuckles, “that wasn’t yummy, was it, little love? It was yucky?”

“I just bought that food.”

He relaxes at the sound of your voice, flashing you a small smile as you enter the room. You wrap your arm around his waist and rest your head on one of his biceps, “she’s a baby, she doesn’t know what good and bad food is,” you chuckle.

“Normally I would never argue with my wife, but trust me, my love, this food is awful,” he says.

“It can’t be that bad, the pediatrician recommended it.”

He watches as you take the spoon and scoop some of the blended baby food onto it, and confidently, as he did, pop it in your mouth. Immediately, to his amusement, your face twists in utter disgust and you dash to the sink, spitting out the contents into the porcelain. “Oh my god!”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, my love.”

You dry your mouth on a paper towel, “yeah no. Don’t feed that to her. Burn it if you must.”

He smiles and nods his head, “will do.”

[spidertams]

Old nanami drawing I forgot I did

[wibben]

New official Nanami art with no glasses, loose hair, and a smile 🥹🥹 I'm in complete shambles, he deserves the world.

He even has feet 🫠 have we seen those before? I think that's NEW SKIN! I feel faint.

[stargirlstabber]

imagine waking up to nanami gently thrusting in and out of you. his hot breath fans over your neck, leaving love filled kisses down your shoulder as he's spooning you. he's quick to shush you when whines and whimpers leave your lips once his big hand trails over your waist and between your legs, slowly rolling your sensitive bundle of nerves between his thick fingers.

[faintrustle]

NANAMI KENTO:

[mahgyu]

Ex-husband!Nanami who even after so much time since the divorce, can only empty his balls with the memory of you.

Unconsciously, he opens that specific folder on his phone titled "my dear love" and scrolls through the numerous photos and videos of you until he finds the same video he always uses to relieve himself. Surprisingly, it's nothing obscene, but just a video he recorded of you while you were spending a homemade afternoon together. Your eyes so bright as you look directly at him instead of the camera lens, your subtle smile gradually growing along with the blush on your cheeks as his voice echoes in the background of the video.

Nanami already has his hand around his semi-hard cock, a weak sigh escaping him as he squeezes the tunnel formed by his hand around the pink head and slides down without loosening the grip, letting out a moan that sounds almost gasping. With the phone in his other hand, he doesn't take his eyes off your image, admiring every pixel on the small screen as if you were truly in front of him.

Nanami always feels his heart will leap out of his chest when he hears the same words that always push him to the edge: "I love you, Kento. And you don't need to record me saying this, you silly. We have a lifetime together for me to repeat this to you as many times as you want." Warm, viscous, and whitish jets stream down Nanami's abdomen where his now soft cock rests. He struggles to regulate his breathing and start to stare at the ceiling after putting the phone down beside him with the video already ended.

And even though the guilt for doing something so dirty with your image overwhelms him as he comes down from his peak, the greater guilt that Nanami truly feels is not having fought harder to keep you by his side. Only Nanami knows how much he would be willing to face the world just to hear you say those things to him directly once more.

Yeah, I have a certain arousal for depressed men AND SO WHAT?? Just a brief pause in the smut + audio series to post this thought I had. It's not corrected so please ignore possible errors.

Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome 🫶🏻💕

[itsafairytalekay]

𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙇𝙊𝙊𝙆 𝘾𝙐𝙏𝙀, 𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙔!!

Desc: jjk men see you reacting to their pics/voice messages!!<3

Characters: Gojo, Geto,Nanami, Toji, Choso, Sukuna!!

Warnings: fluffff!!!

Requested 🖤

Comments are appreciated!!(๑•ᴗ•๑)♡