#nanami Kento x you

[pseudowho]

You crept past the living room; you had only one opportunity to do this right, and to get away with it, too, but it was entirely reliant on Kento remaining engrossed in his book. You held your breath; a floorboard creeeaked beneath your feet.

"And where," Kento rumbled from his place on the sofa, pyjama'd, reading, and cracking another walnut open in his hand, "do you think you're going, wife?"

You bit your lip in furious self-chastisement, but schooled your expression fast, leaning round the doorframe with a smile.

"Just grabbing a snack. Want anything?" Kento popped a walnut into his mouth, shaking his head, mellow.

You walked to the kitchen...and then crept just past it. You peeked back down the corridor; empty.

You reached up to the thermostat, turning it up just so, just a few degrees more--

"What are you doing?"

Kento was behind you, supernaturally fast and looming, and you shrieked. His hand reached out, turning the thermostat back down with a glare, and you begged.

"--please, Kento, just a few degrees more--"

"--how many times, put a jumper on--"

"--you are such a Scrooge, that's how you got rich isn't it, you massive skinflint--"

"--take care of the pennies, and the pounds will take care of themselves, it's warm enough--"

You played rough at the thermostat, squealing and playfighting, until you felt yourself bound by thick arms and lifted into the air.

"Kento!" You laughed, tossed over his shoulder like an unruly child and carried away, "Put me down!"

Kento tossed you onto the sofa, ignoring your scoffs as he dropped a blanket over you, "It's my duty, as your husband, to keep you warm. And financially responsible."

"--you're incorrigible--" Kento sat next to you, tugging you close with a smirk, "--I loathe you--" Kento threw the blanket over you both, pulling your feet into his lap, "--I can still divorce you--"

"There now," Kento hummed, ignoring you completely, "isn't this nice?"

[itsafairytalekay]

𝙂𝙊 𝘽𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙏𝙊 𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙉!

Desc: reader finding out they were a second option for the jjk men!

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

Warnings: Profanity (a bit much) , angst

Part 2: here! Part 3: soon!

Comments are appreciated!!!（｡>‿‿<｡）

[twinkletfout]

I like to think that a soft and gentle man like Nanami has to be the roughest in bed. Just the thought makes me MELT.

The moment both of you stumble into your shared bedroom, The second the door closes behind with a 'click', he has you against the now closed door, your wrists are tightened with a single grip of his. His other hand harshly pulls down your panties to cup your wet pussy. His middle finger rubbing circle on your sensitive nub as he hums in delight of the way your thighs tremble. Maybe he will catch you off-guard by stopping midway to earn a whimper or two, then plunging his thick fingers, he would love how your eyes roll back in ecstasy as you try to stand still with your back arches in pleasure. "You're leaking all over my fingers, baby" you hum lightly, arching your back against him, "missed me that badly, sweetheart?"

He would push you on to the bed as he takes off his shirt in a hurry that he might break a few buttons. The way you look splayed on the bed with those eyes filled with desire. Gosh, it's doing things to him, his cock twitching and bopping up at the sight. And it hurts but in a good way that he wants to grip his length to be inside you after so long. He was thinking of you all day long, all those flirty comments you make, nanami never falter, not even a little bit or break a sweat in public, but that exact man is in front of you right now, ripping his shirt off and his face practically painted red, flushed.

After he gets on top of you and looks down at you, narrowing his eyes as he drinks down your state under him, and how you get embarrassed of the way he is looking at you and turns out you look away at last is what he loves the most, so he can make you look at him and spout the filthiest things with a playful smirk. "Weren't so shy in all those messages, what's wrong now? Cannot even look me in the eye anymore?" He would make you look at him, brushing his thumb past your lower lip as he leaned down to kiss you messy. Oh and btw he definitely is a man to talk you through it and knowing you like it like that. As you try to accommodate his size, he would run his fingers down your thighs reassuringly while his other hand rub your puffy clit. "Aren't you a good girl? Take it, i know you can" And when he manages to slip it all in, kissing your most sensitive area as your thighs literally tremble, he would coo in your ear, a sweet praise for making him feel so good. "Godd, i might cum if you squeeze me that hard, shit— haa im trying, baby, am i being good nhmm?" All of his senses will drown in your moans, later as he would start thrusting in you roughly. It's like he uses you for his own pleasure, slapping your ass and pulling on your hair. But you notice faintly the way his roughness crumbles, kissing your teary eyes and capturing your lips as he pounds into you, your moans drowning in between those kisses.

I might be a lil too feral for him but like, look at him, he is Nanami Kento

[zu8her]

winter break

pairings — reader x nanami, reader x geto, reader x gojo summary — winter break, you and the trio have some fun in a cabin. tags — university au, winter break, pussy eating, edging, quickie, fem reader, she kinda passed around, masturbation??, mentions of consensual nudes, fucking of an academic rival, over 2k words notes — back with an actual fic, it's been a while. hope you like this, maybe prt.2 with gangbang??? also taking requests

Boots sink into the snow as you walk. You groan adjusting the big gloves. Drawing a cold breath as you stare at the snow-covered forest, at the white surrounding you. Cursing yourself for volunteering to venture into the cold.

“The gloves don’t fit?” Gojo chuckles. He stops, waiting for you to catch up.

“I mean they are Geto’s.”

You shove your gloved hands into your pockets. “You don’t need help with that?” He holds firmly at the wood with one hand while pulling the already wood filled slay.

“I got it.”

Breathing, you look through the frosted forest. “I'm gonna go look for wood there,” you point.

“Cool, just stay close.” Gojo settles the wood on the slay. You venture east. Taking a breath. Finally, out of that cabin. You don’t mind their company, you just grew tired of being around people and wanted to be alone. You just— wouldn't tell them that.

So, when you found out you forgot wood, you volunteered to go out and get some outside. Along with Gojo.

The forest was bleak. Barely any colour outside, white, oak and dark green can be seen, and most animals are either hibernating or migrated elsewhere. You turn seeing a young deer sprint north. Staring down at your phone, you continue walking. Your feed bombarded with your friends on skiing trips in some random mountain overseas or back home with their families. You sigh switching to another app.

As you continue to walk, the sinking snow is replaced with a hollow platform. Before you realise, you slip on the hardened ice. Trying to steady yourself you try to move forward back to the edge.

The attempt fails when your slippery boots make you slide further back, away from land and into the misty void of the frozen lake. You watch as the dense ice separating you from the lake begins to crack under your weight.

Panicking, you call for Gojo. Desperately, calling as you stare down at the ice beneath your feet. He rushes to the lake. Letting go of the slay, he stands at the edge. His eyes widen but calm as he lays eyes on you. Tears threatening to fall as you frantically look around.

“The ice! It's-” You hastily steps forward to the same result.

“Just move forward, slowly.” He explains calmly, reaching his hand toward you.

“I can't. If I move the ice will break.” Your tears trickle down.

“I need you to try, okay?”

You take a step. When the ice continues to crack under your feet, you dart towards, to the man at the edge. He holds his arms out, climbing on the frozen lake.

Close to the edge, you feel the ice give out. A striking frost bites at your feet as your boots envelope in the freezing water of the lake. Soon follows the rest of you. The ice cold water swallowing you whole. Your fear frozen as the chill strikes at your chest. You physically cannot scream, silenced by the chilling pain. The water travels, soaking every layer that clings to your body.

Your body almost fully submerged in the water, when Gojo lunged forward and grabbed hold of your arms. “I got you,” he whispers. “I got you.”

Winter. You loved Winter. What comfort it brought you. Just lying in bed. Drinking a cup of tea. Watching your favourite shows under a weighted blanket.

It is winter break. So, you were released from the shackles of university. You looked forward to replacing your books with a screen of your choosing. Lazy, in your fluffy pink gown, thick socks and oversized slippers you’d stolen from one the men that frequent your apartment. What were they doing this winter break?

You laid on your coach, under a mountain of comforters to embrace you in warmth. Your head turns to the door when you hear familiar knocks. The men enter.

Gojo calls for you, walking to the couch. He swats in front of you taking his gloves off.

“Hey,” you mumble under the comforter. Gojo smiles, his nose red from the cold. Reaching out the blankets you cup his cold cheek. “You’re pretty cold. You wanna come in?” You hold the blankets open.

“I'm okay.” Gojo captures your hand. “God, you’re hot.”

“Did you eat anything today?” Geto questions peering into your brown eyes. When you groan and nuzzles into the comforter, does he get his answer. He frowns rolling up his sleeves entering your kitchen.

Turning, Gojo’s gaze is back on You. Adjusting his glasses, he settles next to your on the carpet.

“I have a cabin up North. I was wondering if you wanted to spend winter break there with us.”

That’s how you ended up here. Naked. In front of the fireplace, blanket over you as you shivered your ass off.

“Here you go,” You feel another blanket wrapped around you.

“Thank you, Nanami.”

Nanami. A friend from class that tagged along for this trip. You invited him, to have a friend to talk to during the trip and he was also staying on campus for winter break. He was your PhD partner, always working together for projects and an academic rival.

You watch as he rolls up the sleeves and peer into your through his glasses with a reassuring smile.

“There are only two rooms, Gojo. Why didn't you tell us?” Geto roams the cabin. “I forgot. Last time I was here I was like 10.” Gojo argues checking the kitchen cabinets.

“Who are you going to sleep with?” Nanami questions adjusting his duffel bag. They all pause. Eyes going from Nanami to you. They stand in anticipation. “You. Wouldn't want to break up the duo.” You smile, nudging Nanami with your shoulder.

He settled next to you on the carpet. “Thank you.” You mumbled taking a sip of your tea. You admired the way his blonde strands fell gracefully across his face. Your eyes trail his arms.

Your eyes meet his when he turns his head away from the fire and sighs. “Do you need me to get you some clothes?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll get it myself.”

You had to share a bed. Which was fine. One problem was that You typically slept in a shirt and underwear, and you were cold. Nanami hugged you, pressing his body against yours. You couldn’t stop it, you wanted to, but your panties were getting soaked making you squirm. He was so warm. And he smelt nice. His hand was appropriately place on your stomach and his crotch so close but not against you. He kept you warm and that was all he was doing. You kept slightly moving trying to calm the ache between your thighs, to no avail. “Please stop moving,” he plead, moving closer to fully wrap himself around you, his crotch now pressed against you, yet he did not move. Desperate, you skilfully slide your hand into your underwear and rub at your clit. This drove you to accidentally grind against him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t sleep.”

When Nanami attempts to move his hand from your stomach, he finds that it is caged by your arm between your thighs. So, to help you relieve yourself. He rolls the vibrating wand over your clit repeatedly as you feel your orgasm wash over you.

“Keep quiet, love” he mewled as he rolled your wand onto your clit. You quietly whimpered groping at the sheets as he slid his fingers in and out of your folds. His eyes darting from each tantalising detail to another. The way you buck your hips against him. The wet sheets. Your mouth agape practically drooling. Your dazed eyes desperately peering into his. Your hard pecks under your (his) shirt (you borrowed).

“There you go,” he cooed easing the wand off your clit. “Is this why you invited me?” He looks down at you and your heaving chest. He rubs your thigh as you twitch, exhaling. “You’ll do that for me again, won’t you?”

Bent over, the sink. You look through the mirror to the white-haired man adjusting his glasses as he propped himself against your leaking cunt. He reveals a smirk, running his fingers hair as he looks at you through the mirror. Teasingly, he rubs his cock upwards against your clit and cunt. “Fuck, Gojo. Just put it in.”

It had been a day or two since, Nanami. He made you cum excessively. After your 3rd, you could tell, he did not do it to make your sleep anymore but for his enjoyment. What really got to you was that he never fucked you. You begged, oh you begged for it, embarrassingly so but he said no. He went as far to sit in front you the next night with his cock out just stroking it while you watched. It looked so pretty, you wanted it near you, in your mouth, fuck, inside you. But you could not do anything but watch as his moans filled the room and his cum landed on the wooden floor and hands. So, here you are. Pent up, you pulled Gojo into the bathroom.

“Uhm? What was that darling?” He leans against your ear. Reaching down you eases in his cock in. “Fuck,” he groans slowly rocking his hips into yours. You grip the the sink, watching as you get fucked through the mirror.

Oh, he’s been waiting for this. To finally get his hands on you and that pretty pussy of yours. Truthfully, he planned this trip to have you all for himself. Geto too, but himself mostly. Just think about it: comfy in a cabin, warm under the blankets, he and Geto’d spend day and night just fucking you, breeding you. That’s what a good girl like you deserved after all, to be fucked full of cock and cum. You’d love that.

But then you invited Nanami—

You talked about him a lot. He wasn’t stupid, he could see that you liked him, the same way you liked them. Worse, you decided to sleep with him in one room. They heard you, you know. You were not exactly quiet with your moaning. In fact, they stroked their cocks to it. Even, pulling out videos of you in their catalogue to jerk off to. So, when you dragged him into the bathroom for a quick fuck, he’d be a fool to say no.

Watching, as his sly smirk turns into a sloe of cusses and throaty groans. He hastily takes off his glasses promptly throwing them in the sink as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. You gently tug at his white locks. Wrapping his arm around your waist thrusting with deep slow strokes nibbling at your neck.

“Just cum for me, baby. Can you do that for me, please? Fuck.”

As you came, he held you, kissing your temple, gently rocking his hips forward until you stopped shaking. He pulled out stroking his cum glistened cock. “Do you need some time?” He breathed.

“Yeah, please just give me a second.”

He gave you quick kiss on your temple, pressing his chest against your back, stroking your sides. That was not enough you thought as he cleaned you up. You needed more, way more.

“Nanami and Gojo went out to get some things. We ran out.” Geto explained taking a seat next to you on the couch. He threw his head back in exhaustion, placing the cloth on his forehead, taking deep breathes as he untied his apron.

You watched as his breathe slowed and went back to reading on your phone. You looked back up when you felt him move closer, resting his head on your thighs sneaking his arms around your waist. “What are you reading?” he mumbled against you. “Material we're covering next semester.”

You soon twirled his hair between your fingers. Casually scratching and pulling at his hair. He sighed at your touch. You caught his occasional glance. He would look up for a moment and utter nothing. This continued until you felt him withdraw his hold of your waist and sneak his arm under your thighs, pushing them up and open.

He missed this. Having you in his arms. Like Gojo he thought he’d have all the time in the world to have his hands on you, yet he has barely touched you. Your big soft thighs. Your tummy. Your whole body. God, he craved it. He missed smelling you, touching you, tasting you, marking you. You made his insatiable need worse. Despite the cold weather you’d wear your basic tank tops with your tits in full display. That and seeing you sleepy and comfy in his sweaters just did something to him.

Yesterday you took a shower together, it felt so domestic. To have him help you put your shower cap on because you did not want to get your braidings wet, to have you guide him in the shower by his waist, to feel your hands through his hair as you applied shampoo, to have him wash your back and you his, to have you your plush body pressed against him as hot water ran down your bodies, and to press you against the wall to give you a few kisses before leaving the shower, it felt so, right. A glimpse of a life eternally with you, so safe, comfortable and domestic.

Frankly, it made him horny. He resorted to his catalogue of you as well. Specially, the video of you slowly slamming your ass on his cock with your back turned to him because you were too overstimulated and tired to move any faster but too horny to stop. Even the memory gets him hard, you were so cute and needy. But that was not enough he needed more. And he’d start by wrapping his mouth around your clit and having your cum drip down his chin.

Apparent, what he's doing you look down at him. “Can I?” He motions, tugging at the knot of your fluffy gown. You nod. “You can continue reading, just let me—” he lifts your knee rubbing at your clothed clit and placing gentle kisses along your inner thighs.

Feeling him pull down your underwear, you adjust as you feel his mouth on clit making your grip his hair tighter. The feverish ravishment of your cunt had you discarding your phone and was fully immersed in the sexual proclivity. Your orgasm came faster than expected and he took all of it, taking time to clean your cum off. Letting it slide down his chin.

When Geto looks up, he’s met with a gaze of need: more.

[affableramen]

you wake up sick smau with jjk men

ᡣ𐭩 gojo, toji, nanami, hiromi, suguru

ᡣ𐭩 fluff, comfort, early rel

[elmoees]

Thinking about Husband!Nanami who just knows. What does he know exactly? Every single thing he's supposed to, and everything else.

Husband!Nanami who doesn't have to be asked to do chores. He's a grown man who can clean-up after himself, but he also enjoys the time he gets to spend with you while doing them. Folding laundry together, helping load dishes after dinner, making the bed with you...

Husband!Nanami who knows what products you use off the top of his head. Who bought a replacement for every single one, while you two were dating so he could keep them at his apartment when you stayed over.

Husband!Nanami who sends you a good morning text regardless if he's at work or in the house with you for the weekend. He wants the first thing you see on your phone in the morning to be love from him, because why would he ever choose to treat you less than?

Husband!Nanami who celebrates and remembers important dates without being asked or reminded. Your anniversary? Taken care of months in advance. Your parents birthdays? Taken off with a nice dinner reservation for four. Graduations, trips, even silly holidays are all paid attention too with the same level of importance as the big stuff.

You may fight and bicker with Husband!Nanami, but always know that he loves you dearly.

@/elmoees 2024

[tswkento]

a.n.: hello!! i hope you enjoy reading this, this is pure fluff. ive been working on this for a few days so please be a darling and give it a chance!! thank you <33

c.w.: 3787 wc, fluff fluff fluff, lil bit of angst, hurt/comfort, whipped nanami ffs.

sum.: after years of excruciating yearning and pining, nanami can recall distant memories of the moments he thought he loved you and the exact moment he voiced his feelings, or—

4 times nanami thinks that he loves you and 1 time he says it out loud.

i.

nanami takes another sip from his drink as his eyes roam around the room, barely stopping on the faces of the people. they only ever paused when you came into the view; with your very cute, slightly tipsy smile and shining gaze, that got brighter whenever you caught him looking at you.

or maybe he was imagining things. after all, he’s been drinking too.

as he patiently waited for you to receive your present from under the big tree in gojo’s living room, nanami couldn’t help the anticipation bubbling in his chest while the other’s opened their gifts.

the game of secret santa was a nice idea and it was always a pleasant feeling — seeing someone’s joy over a simple present, no matter how well-thought or effortless it was. and it so happened that on the day yuuji and nobara came up with the suggestion, offering nanami a handful of small papers, he picked out the card with your name scribbled on it.

and although very much enjoyable — the satisfaction he felt at the moment was fairly easy to hide from the kids. he had an opportunity to give you something meaningful and no one would be weird about it since it was secret santa.

“oh? it’s from nanami!” you beam at him after you check the little card that was carefully attached to the ribbon. nanami nods down at you as he leans against the armrest of the couch where the kids are settled.

you eye the wrapped box in your hands with a curious glint and shake it a little, bringing it to your ears as you try to take a guess at what it is. nanami bites down a splitting smile, covering his mouth with the glass in his hand as he watches you tear off the wrapping paper, managing to slap away satoru’s impatient hands that volunteered to do it for you.

you open the medium, velvety box and gasp audibly, covering your mouth with your hand as you look up at nanami from your spot on the fluffy carpet. standing up abruptly, you look into the box again and stare at him with a petulant pout, the frown between your eyebrows calling for him to smooth out the crease of the skin with his finger.

“kento, i,” you take another look at the item inside the box and then back at him, “i can’t accept it, no way.”

nanami is acutely aware of the fact that everyone in the room is watching you two. he prays that the hot sensation he feels crawling up his neck isn’t showing itself as redness of any kind. but at the same time, he likes to imagine that there’s only two of you in the whole world right now and it turns his mind into a fucking mush.

he clears his throat and moves the glass away from his mouth to speak clearly,

“nonsense, it’s your rightful gift,” he puts down his drink with a prominent click and holds out his hand, “let me put it on you.”

your pout slowly dissolves into a timid smile as you put the box in his hand and step closer, hitting nanami with the barely noticeable wave of your sweet perfume. when he looks at you again and sees the way your eyes giddily follow the movements of his fingers, kento can’t stop the corners of his lips from slightly curling upwards.

at the contact with the supple skin of your wrist, his fingertips twitch — electricity running through them, up his arm and straight to his heart, the impulses quickening its pace. nanami breathes in through his nose slowly as he closes the clasp of the watch on the inside of your wrist.

“must’ve cost you a fortune.” you mumble with a dreamy sigh, glancing up at him only to find him already staring at you.

he pats your wrist with finality and lets you admire the accessory on your own, engraving the sight of your enticed expression into his mind. it takes him a second to realise that he has to say something and the alcohol that has worked its way up his brain makes him let out an unfiltered thought,

“worth it.”

your head snaps up at him and you beam at him before your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tightly with a string of thank you’s falling from your pretty lips. kento hugs you close with one hand, willing to ignore the knowing looks the both of you are receiving from everyone in the room, and thinks that he loves you.

ii.

nanami partially expects to see you when he enters the archive room.

you’re already settled by one of the few desks, fingers tapping against the smooth surface of the table as you read the paper whilst periodically checking on the screen of your laptop. the movements in the background seem to disturb your peace as much as kento tries to be silent, and you lock eyes with him, giving him a cute little wave and a bright beam that causes his brain to become empty.

when you notice the stack of papers in his hands, your smile turns sympathetic and you determinedly step from behind your desk, telling him that you’ll make him some coffee too. kento nods in gratitude and forces himself not to follow your temporarily exiting figure so he can stop thinking about how pretty your uniform looks on you and how much he’d like to spend time with you alone aside from the countless of times he’s caught you in this fucking archive room.

it’s a comfortable, quiet spot for anyone to deal with never-ending paperwork so it’s quite common for him to meet you here. probably one of the few reasons why he prefers this room — kento can always just get lost in random conversations with you and ignore the fact that he’d rather stay with you here than go to his empty apartment.

the tea you bring him is always something new. “i like to try new things” you beamed at him when he inquired about your little hobby, and then your face scrunched with disgust at the taste of your newly bought tea. at his eloquently raised brow you only rolled your pretty eyes and stood up to go make something different, at which point he couldn’t help his fond smile.

this time, situation seems to be a lot more dire because you bring two cups of freshly brewed black coffee with two cubes of sugar on the cups’ saucers. he’s already noticed that the reports you are observing are not yours and at his question you explain that gojo’s reports on his students’ missions are always an unorganised mess left for you to clean up.

kento doesn’t hide the disdain spreading over his features and focuses on his own papers. and at first, he doesn’t even notice how quiet you’ve gotten — by the time he finishes his work there is no sound of your pen clicking on the surface of your desk, none of the soft tapping of your fingers over the keyboard and the silence isn’t filled with your occasional hums or sighs.

oh, he lets out when he notices your form slumped on your table, head settled on your forearm with your posture situated awkwardly. that must be very uncomfortable, nanami thinks to himself before he stands up, pointedly ignoring the popping sounds of his own spine and knees, and strides over to you. one part of him really doesn’t want to disturb you, not when you look fucking angelic: cheek smushed against your forearm, lips jutted out in a pouty way and a tiny trail of drool escaping your mouth.

he wonders if you look like this when you’re sleeping on your bed too. maybe even more peaceful than this, with your head untied and your clothes more fitting for a good night’s sleep. kento wonders if he will ever be able to witness that dreamy sight.

he can’t resist the urge to touch your face; his fingertips hover above your cheekbones before sliding over the silky smooth skin, revelling in the suppleness of it before moving a lone strand of hair away from it. you’re so beautiful, nanami thinks, the prettiest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

and when you stir awake he doesn’t even process it at first, just stares down at you dumbly for a second before stepping away and clearing his throat because fucking hell, he’s in love. and you don’t even understand what’s going on. you crack your neck and groan in discomfort all while he stares down at you, all of his attempts at saying something failing miserably. you catch his figure being close and ask him if you were out for long, the slight hoarseness of your voice enchanting him completely.

and then his plans of sleeping early tonight get thrown out of the window because his mouth opens before his brain comprehends his thoughts,

“do you need help with these?” he can’t stand the thought of you working on this stuff for longer than necessary and going home so late at night.

you give him a reluctant glance and do the same with the papers in front of you before nodding meekly and moving your chair to the side so he can fit another one for himself. nanami thinks it’s a win/win situation: you get to go home early and he gets to spend a little more time with you. and it doesn’t matter that he’s going to wake up groggy and with his back hurting like a bitch, it really doesn’t. not as long as you are fine.

iii.

annual gathering of all the existing clans and sorcerers was something nanami liked to avoid as many times as he could since he found them to be just another pompous event filled with meaningless chatter and old traditions. for him, at least. most of the time he had missions so he was dismissed, but this year he was free and basically forced by director yaga to attend.

he exits the main building, fishing a cigarette out of the inner pocket of his yukata as his eyes search for a secluded spot in the garden.

his steps come to a halt when his eye catches onto your blurry figure, entering through the gates. his hand with the cigarette stick between his thumb and index finger hover over his mouth as nanami watches you stepping closer and closer to him.

the distance between you two allows him to observe you for longer; the way your hair moves with every step you take, your own yukata that makes you look ethereal with the way its colours fit so well, the slightly vacant expression on your face before you notice him too and beam at him. kento’s lips curl into a small smile as he decides to meet you in the middle.

“thought you couldn’t make it tonight.” he mutters softly, noting how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

something happened, nanami can tell that, however he has no idea what. you fall into an easy pace along with him, locking your arms behind yourself as you timidly glance at him. nanami can’t really decipher that look so he chooses to continue leading you both somewhere private. the cigarette stays in his hand, saved for later.

“yeah, i had a thing.”

“a thing?”

“well…”

kento points at the small gazebo hidden behind the main building to which you nod silently, and when you both settle on the bench inside of it, he notices on your face how you’re pondering something very seriously. so he tries to be as gentle as possible when he says,

“is everything okay?”

you stay silent for a few seconds and just as you open your mouth to speak, nanami realises that he might just be unintentionally forcing you to speak.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he suggests, leaning down a bit to see more of your face.

your profile is beautiful. in the twilight of the night, despite the fact that his vision gets worse when it’s getting dark, nanami can always clearly distinguish your luminous eyes, your beautifully shaped nose and your pretty, rosy lips. all of your features have been engraved into his mind ever since he’s found himself staring at you with adoration bubbling in his chest and warmth spreading all over it.

you turn your head slowly, the weight of your thoughts etched into your expression. you open your mouth to speak, but no words come out and you close it, choosing to remain quiet. nanami’s concern must show on his face because you only bury your face in his shoulder, inhaling sharply before leaning your temple against the smooth surface of his yukata.

feeling your body relying on him feels a lot better than he thought it would. the weight of your head against his shoulder was soothing, a silent gesture of trust and comfort you felt from him.

kento gazes down at you and in a moment of tenderness rests his open palm on his thigh, a discreet motion that offers support, the one that you clearly desire right now. it shows in the way your hand hovers over his, hesitant but eager, and nanami makes an effort of gently catching it and placing it on his thigh. his thumb doesn’t stop rubbing circles over your skin until he feels you completely relax against him, not quite sleeping, yet not aware of your surroundings either. in your head, in your own world.

and while nanami basks in the warmth that radiates from your body, enveloping him from the side, he can only think about how much he loves you and how nice it feels to be trusted by you.

iv.

nanami wonders if he’ll be brave enough to tell you how he feels.

to understand that there is so much love inside of him is to also realise that there is no outlet for that love, and it’s depressing to say the least.

his days are filled with meaningless missions that could only be described as temporary solutions to a permanent problem that is etched into this world, but he can’t just not do it. he can’t do nothing, he’ll never forgive himself if he stoops to something like that again. nanami must remind himself that this is his duty and what he’s been born to do, and by the time he’s done with his affirmations the curse is already dissipating into the chilly air of the night and he’s going home.

would you reciprocate his feelings? would you give him a chance to put his everything into making you the happiest person alive instead of constantly thinking about preserving something that is already damaged — the system that everyone’s living in?

would you let him be selfish and share with him everything that makes you ‘you’? your mind, your soul, your body, your presence, your emotions, your everything. nanami knows he’d give you anything you’d ask him. even if it’s his heart, even if it’s already completely devoted to you — if you ask to have it in flesh he’d rip it out of his chest and present it to you like the finest things in the world because you deserve it.

he doesn’t remember the day his heart started reacting differently to your smiles and your laughter. the transition of his feelings from ‘friendly’ to ‘completely enamoured’ was so rapid yet so fluid, something he didn’t realise until he felt the full extent of it. when his brain melted at the sight of your radiant smile, and when the slightest bit of physical contact with you sent small electric tingles through his body, and also when the desire to be in close proximity with you clouded his mind whenever you were in the room.

kento yearns to be close to you; he wants it so much his fingers twitch with longing to hold and need to feel. he wants, wants and wants, but he does it quietly and you know nothing. it’s crazy how he feels so fucking much even though he is nearly thirty and it’s no time for this kind of thing in the hectic lifestyle he chose to have, yet he can’t stop himself from craving it — your love.

it’s also crazy that these thoughts occupy his head as soon as he sees you. hears you. feels you.

“kento?” you’d call out to him sweetly, waving your hand in front of his face, disturbing him from remembering the minuscule details of your face and your microexpressions. “are you even listening to me?”

“always.” he’d say without thinking because it’s true.

you’d eye him sceptically for a second or two before giving him a pleased smile and leaning in to continue your storytelling, compelled by his lovesick gaze and completely ignorant to his hands itching to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. fuck, if this is hell.

he loves you, he loves you, he fucking loves you—

v.

“have you ever been in love?” you ask him casually as you pace around his kitchen idly while he washes the remnants of the dirty dishes.

it’s a peaceful night after a great evening spent with itadori and you, but itadori’s gone now and you stayed to help him clean up. though, naturally, nanami shooed you away with your every attempt at touching anything, telling you that your company is enough. you pouted at his nonchalant stubbornness, but didn’t try to resist.

nanami wipes the drops of water from around the sink and washes his hands carefully before he turns to face you, “have you?”

it’s a feeble attempt at moving the attention away from himself and onto you, yet it works and nanami can let himself exhale shakily when your gaze leaves him while you contemplate your answer.

“i feel like i am in love.”

nanami’s fingers close on the edge of the counter he’s been leaning against, eyes studying your dreamy expression whilst you idly gazed at the view from the window.

“he makes me feel very special.”

you glance at him for a second before stepping around the counter to stand by his side. nanami follows your movements carefully, mahogany eyes never leaving you as he tries to ignore the way his mouth dries at the mention of ‘he’. he does his best not to jump into conclusions and chooses to listen more.

“he does?” he croaks out pitifully, eager to hear more. his brain is frying.

you tilt your head up, fluttering lashes partially obscuring the sight of your piercing eyes. nanami feels his chest tighten painfully before he releases a semi-steady puff of air, waiting for you to continue.

“he is so gentle with me. treats me like i’m made of porcelain, treats me like i’m the only one.”

you are, nanami wants to say, but he can’t seem to form a logical sentence — not when your pinkie is grazing his hand on the counter and your lips soften into something serene, something content.

his brain seems to be catching up to his actions a little later than usual because before he knows it, nanami is allowing himself to occupy your space as he rounds you into the counter, letting his hand cage you. he knows his face gives it away; the longing he feels, the overwhelming need he feels to be yours and for you to be his, to give away the thing you rightfully own — his heart. but he has to wait.

“do you think that means something?” kento whispers tentatively, scared to push you away.

the corners of your lips twitch as your hand settles on his forearm softly, stroking up and down over the length of it whilst you watch him carefully. you don’t even know how much power you have over him right now and it drives him wild because he is hungry for everything you can give him. even the slightest touch makes him lose his mind and this— this is almost too much for one night.

“i don’t know.” you shrug, “does it mean something?”

“yes, it–” his trembling hand leaves the counter in favour of settling on the side of your face, fingers nimbly pushing back messy strands of hair away from your beautiful face. nanami exhales shakily before continuing, “it means a lot.”

“nana–”

“i love you.”

and then he kisses you.

he wants to fucking punch himself into face because there is no consideration of whether you’d be comfortable with him kissing you or anything else, it’s pure insanity that operates his brain and it leaves him 3 seconds later when he freezes and pulls away only to be pulled back by your soft hands on the sides of his face.

his arms wrap around your figure, embracing you in a manner that is more touch starved rather than romantic: with your body flush against his and his hands spread over the eloquent expanse of your back, his feet caging yours inside and his fingers twitching like crazy. nanami breathes in through his nose and focuses on your touch to stop himself from completely shutting off, finding the sensation of your fingers carding through his undercut and gently cradling his jaw to be very soothing.

soothing, warm, gentle, loving — just like he imagined it would be.

the softness of your lips is heavenly against his, the sweet taste of your mouth is even stronger as it fogs his brain and clouds his gaze, filling it with desire for more. nanami feels the restraints he put around himself coming loose with the hesitant swipe of your tongue over his bottom lip that prompts him to gently push into your mouth with his own eliciting a strangled moan from you. fucking hell— he has to control himself.

kento pulls away and his eyes are frantic in the way they scan you; noting the heat emitting from your skin, the shallowness of your breaths, how your chest heaves up and down and how your lips part ever so invitingly, luring him in. the thought of never experiencing this with you makes his skin crawl so he focuses completely on this moment, this second.

“why’d you– why’d you stop, kento?” you whisper into the space between you too, gliding your thumb over his cheekbone.

and you look so pretty. absolutely stunning, donning a sweet, worried expression that only spurs him on, adding fuel into his endless desire to tell you about how much he loves you. so he does, sealing every one of his confessions with a passionate kiss.

“i love you.”

[pseudowho]

Fully believe that he's stiff and awkward and takes ages to warm up. Canon (or it should be).

I would be choosing choco-banana or matcha Pocky for this particular experience 😌☕

Pocky Day

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

“Nanami! Check it out!”

The seasons had shifted almost without notice, and here you were, wrapped in the early chill of November, wrestling with your plastic convenience store bags and the loose sleeves of a coat that was not your own. The holidays were near; work was easing up, and curses seemed to fade with the colder air, which meant more free time. And you had resolved to spend it cracking the nut that was Nanami Kento.

Could you call him a friend now? Probably, you thought, if friendship included routine cups of coffee that tasted exactly as you liked, courtesy of him memorizing your order, and favorite sandwiches he only accepted from you because “the shop near your apartment makes them best.” The small gestures stacked up, predictable and warm.

As the two of you strolled down the Tokyo streets you stopped, shuffling crinkling bags with blunt mittened hands, delving into the pockets where you stashed your prize – aha!

You held up the carton between you, grinning through a nose gone red from the chill. “Did you know it’s Pocky Day?”

Cute, Kento thought, immediately charmed by the small, proud smile you wore. He shifted his glasses up his nose, a well-practiced excuse for a moment’s reprieve, hoping the sudden warmth in his face would pass.

“Is that a holiday?” he asked, careful to keep his voice steady as he looked down at the snack pack offered in your hand.

“Sort of,” you replied, your smile widening. “It’s today – eleven-eleven, you know? Looks like the sticks.”

He reached for the box, if only to indulge in the blanketing contentment of his fingertips brushing over the wool of your mittens. The softness of it, the small closeness, was something he never quite allowed himself to savor – yet there you were, none the wiser to his plight.

“Hm. I see.” He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like another capitalist holiday to me.”

“No no, this ones different! They’re cheap today and it’s fun—”

“Yes, cheap. To make you buy it. Like every other capitalist holiday.”

You shot him a look, glaring padded daggers into the back of his blonde head and hurried to catch up as he started walking again, huffing dramatically. “You’re no fun sometimes. Where’s your whimsy?”

Kento’s smile softened as he turned away, letting himself indulge for a second in the fondness that always crept up around you. Very cute, he thought again, and not for the first time. He tore open the cardboard carton with a deft press of his thumb against the perforation and peeled open the foil pack inside, passing it sidelong back to you to accept into your uselessly mitted palms.

You shuffled the box, jostling a single stick upward to pluck out with your teeth, then held the box out to him with a silent offer and a toothy smile. Kento accepted one with a quiet nod.

He twizzled the chocolate-free end between his thumb and forefinger, taking small contemplative bites as you both walked.

“There’s supposed to be a thing you do with it, too,” you said after a pause, feeling stinging warmth creep up to your cheeks. “Like… you know. With a pocky stick. People eat it from both ends.”

You kept your tone light, as casual as you could, but your heart was louder in your ears than you’d like, beating with all the wild things you wanted but couldn’t bring yourself to ask for as you tested the waters. God you wish he would bite. How might his breath feel, warm and humid, on your chilly and frost-nipped face? Watching those eyes that always looked so sharp get closer and closer to your own, watching them soften, feeling the snap of the pocky stick as it broke bit by bit into his mouth until his lips met yours—

Kento’s eyebrow quirked just so, his gaze flicking from the pocky in his hand to you. You can’t just say things like that, he bemoaned, feeling your words strike sharp and deep. Because if he had it his way, he’d stop you, right here on the sidewalk, reel you in close until he could feel the warmth of your breath mingling with his. He’d cradle your chilled face between his palms, brush away that tempting smear of chocolate on the corner of your mouth with his thumb – and then, finally, he’d kiss you, no hesitation, no half-measures, just the taste of you against his lips, snack be damned as he’d been tempted to do for months.

And for a moment he considered it. He considered it, because when the silence stretched and he looked at you just a little too long you turned to look at him too. 

Too obvious, you internally wailed.

She didn’t mean it like that, he doused himself.

And so Kento shrugged, keeping his response as carefully noncommittal as he always did. “What an inefficient way to share.” 

He wanted to smack himself.

Your heart dipped a little at the careful, too-neutral tone in his voice. “Right. Silly,” you said, laughing it off, but your voice was a shade softer than it had been.

And as if some twist of fate wanted to rub salt in the wound, a couple ambled past, laughing as they attempted that very thing. They were awkward, leaning in close in the fogging vapor of their cloudy breath, their laughter bubbling and sweet as the shared pocky stick disappeared between their lips. 

Your own heart stuttered. You watched them until it felt too voyeuristic to continue, feeling the cold air bite a little harder as you snuck a glance at Kento. His face was unreadable, focused on the path ahead.

The rest of the walk, neither of you brought it up again, and the box was shared between you until it was empty.

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

Another year came and went, swallowed in the rush of work and curses and routines until you’d all but forgotten about Pocky Day – what was the use, anyway? It was a capitalist holiday, as Kento would say. Something trivial and best left unthought of until it came around again. 

So you were taken by surprise to find Kento standing beside your desk that morning, silhouetted in soft strokes of pale yellows and baby blue. He was neat as ever, his coat perfectly buttoned, and as ever, the sight of him sparked something traitorous in the dying twitch in your chest.

You considered your shot to have been well and truly fired – and that was okay. Friendship was fine; you could live with it. You told yourself this every time you had to tame the excited pitter patter of your heart whenever you saw him.

“You’re early today,” you said, surprised but smiling. “You didn’t have to—”

“It’s Pocky Day,” he said simply, holding up a red box as if it was simply a matter of fact, just like picking up coffee… which also sat steaming on the edge of your desk.

“Oh.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden rush of butterflies that exploded in your belly. It doesn’t mean anything, you tempered yourself. “Right! I ah – I forgot! So, I guess… we’re doing this again?”

Kento rumbled and stepped across the room to you when you failed to move closer, offering the box to you as you had once offered it to him. “I thought it might be a nice tradition.”

You took the box from him, fingers brushing without the barrier of gloves, and you felt your soul tremble like the fragile leaves that still stubbornly clung to the trees just outside the large office window. 

You struggled to open the box, sucking in a breath from between your teeth to steady the unfortunate shaking of your fingers. There was an odd intensity to his silence, the way he stared at the box in your hands waiting for you to open it. You felt oddly pressured, and the enormity of the relief you felt from such a diminutive victory when you finally peeled it open was almost enough to shake you to your knees.

Your pulse ratcheted an uneven staccato as you drew out a single stick, offering it to him. “Kento.”

Instead of taking it, he hesitated, his gaze lingering on yours with a weight that made your chest feel heavy. And then, he bowed forward, his eyes never leaving yours, lips parting around the end of the pocky stick in a single, deliberate motion and reeled back with it pinched between his teeth. There was a quiet challenge in the lift of his brow, something vulnerable and daring woven together; an invitation and a question laid bare in his expression, highlighted and punctuated by the slow bleed of red blooming over high cheekbones.

Your pulse roared in your ears, catching you frozen. All you could do was stare, and in that pause, his confidence flickered, just for a second, his steady breaths growing slightly shallower as his eyes flicked between yours. That flutter of panic at his own boldness, like he might’ve misjudged this completely, tightened something inside you, and you couldn’t have that.

For a stunned second, it was pure disbelief: you were kissing Kento. He kissed you. Every ounce of longing and every secret glance you’d ever thieved was suddenly, incredibly, impossibly real, and that realization burst inside you with a giddiness that made your atoms buzz.

Slowly, you leaned in, feeling his breath feather warmly against your cheek. You bit the stick delicately, feeling the faint returning snap of it from the other end. Kento moved closer in response, eyes locked on yours, his gaze unreadable but unmistakably intent, filling you with a fire that licked at your spine. His lips were so close – close enough that you felt every small shift, every inch he dared forward, the space between you shrinking in this mutual game of chicken that neither of you intended to bow from.

You bit again, your noses brushing, hearts racing in the quiet with a fluttering synchronicity that left you dizzy. And then, in the last breath of chocolate between you, his lips met yours, as soft and hesitant as the very first touch of spring. 

The taste of chocolate and mint mingled with something undeniably him, a warmth so complete you felt it seep into your bones. The world outside of your bubble paused, cradling the two of you in a moment that felt so obviously inevitable yet so fragile, like any sudden movement might shatter it. 

You were caught in this vacuum of your own creation. Your eyes fluttered open, unsure whether to savor the kiss fully or to steal glances at him, afraid to miss a single, precious detail. You felt the faintest brush of his eyelashes against your cheek, his breathing soft against your skin. The closeness was overwhelming, yet you hesitated to give in entirely, your lashes fluttered with uncertainty against his cheekbone. You would pull away when he did, because oh, what if somehow you were misreading this? What if you embarrass yourself by lingering too long, what if it’s a misunderstanding, what if, what if, what if—

But Kento felt it too. Not letting you drift into uncertainty, his hand came up, fingers warm as they cradled the back of your head, steadying you as he tilted you just a little closer. The moment didn’t end with the last snap of the pocky, nor with the chocolate gone from both of your lips. His kiss deepened – until it broke. And his eyes opened enough to meet yours as he dipped down for a second time, this time without pretense or excuse – he kissed you because he wanted to and he always did.

Each press of his lips was steady, adoring. He kissed you with the tenderness of someone who wanted to remember every part of this and wanted you to remember it just the same; who wanted to remember the exact shade of your blush, the soft, delighted sigh he felt more than he heard, the way your fingers curled reflexively at his shirt collar as you allowed him to melt every last inch of you.

When he finally pulled away, it was slow, his forehead resting gently against yours as his thumb traced small, bashful circles at the base of your neck. A soothing gesture, whether meant for you or for him it hardly mattered, because you’re both left equally dazed. And the look in his eyes, warm and unguarded, told you he was no more ready to pull away than you were.

After a long moment Kento let out a soft, almost reluctant chuckle, his lips twitching upward in a devastatingly cute way with how the expression shook. He glanced down at the box of pocky hanging limp in his free hand, having been completely forgotten. “There’s… still more in the box,” he said, hushed, like he’s hesitant to push his luck any further than he felt he already had.

Your chest gave a hopeless little squeeze, a nervous giggle of your own bubbling from your throat. “Oh, really?” you teased, your lips curling into a shy smile. “Should we finish it?”

He gave you that look again, the one that always made you swoon – something warm and appreciative, and now you can see it much more clearly: bursting with promise. He raised the box again and offered it to you quietly, “It would be a shame to waste it, I think.”

[ryiju-muunie]

Your boyfriend loved to watch you squirm, loved to watch you beg and writhe for mercy under his cold boot. It was arousing to see you so disheveled, licking the sole of his shoe as you keened for your impending orgasm to take hold.

Your boyfriend loved to that that flogger and imprint mark after mark along your skin, smiling down at your bruised and bloodied form. Then he’d take his tongue and lick along the cuts, along those sensitive areas, just to feel you shiver.

Your boyfriend loved to fuck you, four fingers inside your honeypot squelching in the silence of your joint room. He arched his digits and watched as you gasped, grinding your cunt to get some semblance of pleasure. To get that release you had been craving- no, dying for.

It wasn’t like you to submit so easily, to give in and let someone else take the reins. It wasn’t like you to let someone else fuck you like an object until you were nothing more than a blabbering mess. But here you were, bent over as your master dug his nails deep into your ass

Your boyfriend licked circles around your hole and marveled at the noises he heard, at the orgasm he was able to pull from his tongue alone. From flicking it along battered skin and sucking on your blood. From tasting that copper and spitting into your pussy, spreading you apart and letting her tongue loll around your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you would whine, throwing your head back, “Mm.. I’m-I’m gon.. gonna..” You bucked your hips, spreading your legs back and rubbing circles on your folds as your boyfriend licked your anus, smiling into your skin.

“That’s it baby,” Your boyfriend cooed, spreading your ass cheeks to get a better angle, “You can cum..”

His words, so encouraging and quiet were enough to send you unraveling and bucking your hips. You gasped and felt your back arch, rolling your hips to the waves of pleasure washing over your abused pussy.

Strawpage | Bluesky

[xhyjin]

| nanami kento x reader

| nanami as a stay at home husband while your the breadwinner, basically a day in his life as he waits for you to return home

| #sfw #softnanami #fluff #sliceoflife

| 1.28k

| ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ : why does everyone write nanami as a workaholic we all know that man hates work so how about an au where nanami is for once not the breadwinner and just waits for his wife to come home from work :(

________________________________________________

ever since you met nanami, it was clear that he hated working. the signs were obvious—from the dark circles under his eyes growing deeper to the way his gaze carried nothing but exhaustion. most people might call your relationship “unusual,” given that men are often expected to be the breadwinners while their wives either work or manage the household. but you loved the way things were. you adored your job and cherished your beloved husband even more, happy to give him the rest he deserved while you took care of work and let him handle the home.

“i’m home,” you call out, opening the door to your house with a sigh of relief as you place your keys down on the table. the sound of heavy footsteps echoes from down the hall, and as you lean against the wall to remove your heels, nanami appears in front of you.

“welcome home, honey,” he says warmly, his figure framed by the soft light of the entrance. he’s wearing an apron, his hair dusted with flour, and the sight makes you chuckle.

“hello, handsome,” you tease, reaching up to ruffle his flour-covered hair. nanami smiles at you, his expression tender, before placing his hands on your waist and lifting you to sit on a nearby surface.

“here, let me help with that,” he offers, kneeling down in front of you. his hands are warm as they gently cradle your ankles, slipping your heels off with care. he rubs your feet softly, his thumbs soothing the ache from a long day.

“how was work?” he asks, still on his knees, looking up at you with that same calm, attentive gaze that you love.

“oh, work is work,” you reply with a small pout. “never exciting, never boring. but i couldn’t help thinking about you today.” your hand moves to his cheek, brushing against his skin as you caress it gently.

nanami leans into your touch, his expression softening further. “and why is that, my love? do you not think about me other days?” he asks, his voice laced with a slight tease as a playful smirk tugs at his lips.

you roll your eyes dramatically but can’t help the smile spreading across your face. “of course, i think about you,” you reply with a light scoff. “you’re all i think about—so much so that sometimes i end up writing your name on important files at work.”

nanami raises an eyebrow, amused. “oh? is that so?”

you nod, leaning forward slightly as your tone becomes softer and more teasing. “mm-hmm. i get so lost daydreaming about you—about how you’ll be waiting for me at home, how you’ll hug me, kiss me, and feed me—” you coo, trailing off with a playful pout.

his smirk turns into a soft laugh as he rests his forehead against your knee, shaking his head. “you’re unbelievable,” he murmurs, his voice filled with affection.

before you could respond, your stomach beat you to it, letting out a loud rumble that broke the comfortable silence. nanami lifted his head, his eyebrow arched in a mix of concern and amusement.

“did you skip lunch again?” he asked, his tone stern but laced with care.

you quickly shook your head. “how could i skip lunch when my beloved husband puts so much effort into making me the most nutritious and healthy bentos?” you replied with a sweet smile.

he narrowed his eyes slightly, unconvinced. in the past, skipping lunch had been a bad habit of yours, one nanami had worked hard to correct. “mhm,” he hummed, “i’ll check your bag later to see if you’re telling the truth. but for now, my love,” he continued, standing up and offering his hand, “let’s go eat.”

you placed your hand in his, letting him pull you up. “what did you make that has you covered in flour, ken?” you giggled, following him toward the kitchen.

“you’ll see,” he said with a small smile, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as he led you to the table.

“alfredo!” you exclaimed, your voice filled with excitement as you let go of his hand and rushed to the dinner table. “did you make it from scratch?!” you turned around to find nanami standing there, arms crossed and a proud look on his face.

“yep, i did,” he replied, his tone calm but laced with quiet satisfaction. he untied his apron and draped it over the kitchen island before stepping over to pull your chair out for you.

you sat down eagerly, looking at the plate of creamy pasta before you. “i’m going to devour this meal,” you declared dramatically. “thank you so much, my amazing, talented, sexy husband.” without even glancing at him, you picked up your fork and started chowing down enthusiastically.

nanami chuckled softly, watching you with a proud smile as he took his seat across from you. He picked up his fork and began eating as well, though with far more modesty than your ravenous pace. he didn’t mind—seeing you enjoy his cooking was more than enough to make his day.

you let out a satisfied sigh, leaning back in your chair and holding your stomach. "done, baby?" nanami asked, standing up and grabbing his plate. as he walked toward you to take yours, you nodded with a content smile.

"that was the best alfredo i've ever had," you said, stopping him by gently grabbing his hand before he could take your plate. bringing his hand to your lips, you placed a light kiss on it and looked up at him with soft, doe-like eyes. "thank you for everything."

nanami's expression softened even more as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. his lips lingered, and as he pulled away, he licked the corner of your mouth with a smirk. "you've got sauce all over your pretty lips," he whispered, his voice low and teasing as he rested his forehead against yours.

you giggled, your cheeks warming as his thumb lightly brushed against your lips. moments like these reminded you why you adored him so much-your caring, thoughtful, and slightly mischievous husband.

“not my fault you made it so creamy,” you tease, mirroring his smirk.

“oh yeah?” nanami responds, setting the plate he was holding back down on the table. “funny, I don’t remember you complaining earlier when you were ‘devouring’ it,” he says, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

he steps closer, now towering over you as you remain seated, his abdomen nearly brushing against your face. your cheeks flush a deep red as you try to look anywhere but at him.

“look at me,” he says, his tone soft yet commanding, with a teasing edge you know all too well. you hesitate, but eventually, your shy gaze meets his playful one, and it feels like the first time all over again—your heart racing under the weight of his attention.

“what?” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper, betraying your flustered state.

“hm?” he murmurs, leaning down so his lips are right next to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin. his proximity makes your heart skip a beat, and you wonder if he’s enjoying how easily he can unravel you.

“i said your cooking stinks!” you yell playfully, your voice loud in his ear.

nanami immediately pulls back, grabbing his ear with a dramatic smirk. “oh, is that so?” he says, his tone laced with mock offense. before you can react, he leans down and effortlessly throws you over his shoulder.

“no, no, no, put me down! stop!” you whine, lightly punching his back in protest.

“ken, my stomach is gonna explode—stop!” you giggle, squirming as you feel a playful smack on your butt.

“too late for apologies now,” he teases, his voice steady as he carries you down the hall.

he walks you into the bedroom and gently tosses you onto the soft mattress. you bounce slightly, laughing as you look up at him. his smirk hasn’t wavered, and he looms over you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, clearly pleased with your flustered state.

before you could sit up, nanami gently pushes you back down, his movements deliberate as he crawls on top of you. his hands capture yours, pinning them above your head while his legs straddle yours, locking you in place with no chance of escape.

"ken, no," you say sternly, trying to sound serious despite the grin threatening to break through. you already know what's coming.

"nuh-uh, baby," he replies, shaking his head with mock defiance. his smirk grows as he leans down, his face hovering over yours. ignoring your protests, he starts pressing wet, sloppy kisses all over your cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin.

"stop! ken!" you squeal, squirming beneath him, your laughter filling the room as you try to turn your head away. your giggles mix with the soft rustling of the sheets as he continues his playful assault.

"i'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" you cry out between gasps of laughter, but he doesn't stop, his lips peppering your face with even more exaggerated kisses.

finally, when he's satisfied, he pulls back slightly, his chest heaving as he grins down at your flustered, giggling face. "that's what you get for saying my cooking stinks," he teases, his tone warm and full of affection.

he had a little smear of lipstick across his mouth, and the flour still clung stubbornly to his hair. you couldn’t help but giggle as you reached up, your hands gently cupping his face. your thumbs brushed over his cheekbones, and then you slid your fingers into his hair, ruffling it playfully.

“you and i both know that it doesn’t,” you coo, your voice soft and affectionate as you gaze up at him.

nanami’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile, his eyes never leaving yours. “glad you finally admit it,” he murmurs, leaning into your touch as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

you sit up slightly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pull him into a tender, loving kiss. “i love you, i love you, i love you,” you whisper in between sweet pecks, your heart full of warmth as you press your lips to his.

nanami smiles against your lips, his hands gently holding you as he deepens the kiss, savoring the quiet intimacy between you. “i love you too, my dear” he replies softly, his voice barely a whisper as he pulls away just enough to look into your eyes.

as you looked into nanami’s eyes, a wave of gratitude washed over you. you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of appreciation for how amazing your life had become. everything felt right in this moment—the warmth of his touch, the love in his gaze, and the quiet contentment between you two.

his kindness, his care, and the way he made you feel so loved and cherished made every day worth it. in that moment, you knew that no matter what life threw at you, as long as you had him by your side, everything would be okay.

[nanamineedstherapy]

Velvet Sin & Clandestine Vows - Getting Railed by Nanami in a bathroom at a high end party!

Minors DNI/Implied Cheating/Shameless Smut/My First Smut

Summary: Nanami X F!Reader Porn with plot if you squint At a glittering party soaked in decadence and secrets, Nanami teeters on the edge of temptation. In a room full of strangers, desire simmers—and the truth hides just beneath the surface.

A/N: This is my first time writing smut of any kind so let me know if it hits the spot ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖) This is for the romantics who know that even in the darkest moments of doubt, love can be cunning and wild. Also, shoutout to that iconic YouTube playlist for being the chaotic muse behind this steamy disaster of a fic.

The road twisted through a dense forest, the towering pines casting long shadows that obscured the setting sun. As Nanami’s Aston Martin emerged from the trees, a breathtaking vista unfolded before him. The estate was impossible to miss—a billionaire’s playground, nestled by a pristine lake that gleamed like liquid silver under the evening light.

The mansion rose like a testament to unrestrained wealth, its classical architecture blending seamlessly with modern luxury. Towering stone walls surrounded the property, topped with wrought-iron gates that whispered exclusivity. The driveway, a winding ribbon of cobblestone, led to an expansive circular courtyard where sleek black cars gleamed under the soft glow of vintage lampposts.

Manicured lawns stretched endlessly, emerald carpets interrupted only by sculpted topiaries and fountains that gurgled softly, their marble figures glowing in the twilight. Beyond the house, a private dock extended into the lake, boasting a yacht that promised decadence on water. Overhead, the subtle hum of helicopter rotors hinted at rooftop landings, where multiple aircrafts were neatly parked, completing the scene of indulgence.

The driveway, paved in glossy black stone, curved toward the towering wrought iron gates that guarded the entrance. Beyond them, the mansion loomed—an artful blend of Art Deco and minimalism, its facade both imposing and captivating. Emerald lawns sprawled outward, dotted with perfectly trimmed topiaries, their shadows cast by subtle, strategically placed uplighting. This wasn’t just a house; it was a statement, a billionaire’s playground that dared anyone to dream bigger.

As Nanami parked and approached the grand entrance, the double doors swung open as if the house had been expecting him. Inside, the opulence didn’t waver. The grand hall was lit by crystal chandeliers that refracted light in a golden haze, their sparkle mirrored in the polished marble floors. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the lake like a living painting.

The party was in full swing—clinking glasses, soft jazz mixed with murmured laughter, and the shimmer of chandeliers casting a golden glow over the well-dressed crowd.

Soon corporate small talk had already grated on him, but he’d mastered the art of polite nodding, his expression remaining stoic as his coworkers droned on about profit margins. A gold-trimmed glass of whiskey rested in his hand, untouched, his attention flicking periodically to the entrance of the hall, waiting to escape.

Nanami adjusted his Tom Ford silk charmeuse shirt, the crisp fabric cool against his skin. His sleeves were rolled neatly to his elbows, revealing just enough of the Tateossian 18K gold cufflinks to suggest effort without indulgence. His tailored mohair trousers fit him like a second skin, the sharp creases giving him an edge of formality even when he felt far from it. He'd spent a good amount on tonight's party outfit in order to fit in with his office crowd, even though he couldn't care less about price tags. His wife, on the other hand, was a different story. She had such particular taste that she rarely found anything worth buying at a store. But once she did, if it was casual, it would probably be inexpensive. However, if it was anything work or party-related, then it would carry a hefty price tag.

He wasn’t here to mingle, despite appearances. Events like these were breeding grounds for insincerity, where pleasantries masked ulterior motives. His colleagues swarmed him, juniors seeking advice on everything from office politics to investment strategies, while his peers probed for weaknesses under the guise of camaraderie.

“Nanami-san,” an overeager intern chimed, her voice cutting through his thoughts. “It’s rare to see you out of the office! You seem more relaxed with your hair down.”

He regarded her coolly, offering the barest nod of acknowledgement. Her persistence at work had already frayed his patience—coffee he hadn’t asked for, lunches delivered without reason. At first, he dismissed it as professional eagerness, but her flushed cheeks and doe-eyed stares had revealed something more personal. He didn’t mind admirers so long as they kept their distance, but this one was suffocating. Tonight, he had a plan: feed her to his wife.

Soon his colleagues were rambling something about the last quarter being great but he couldn’t care enough to respond, the most he gave was an occasional nod. They had already stolen every waking moment of his life; now they expected him to be polite in his off hours? Nanami hated office parties for this very reason: small, meaningless talks like "Oh, how are you?" And God forbid the other person is honest and actually tells him something, it immediately gets spun around into something else entirely.

As he took another swig mentally cussing himself for showing up at all, then she walked in.

Time didn’t stop—it slowed—not in some romanticized way, but because she demanded it. Classy, confident, untouchable. The sound of her heels on marble cut through the hum of conversation, subtle but commanding. Heads turned, and conversations paused. Her dress was silk, liquid red that clung to her frame and teased with a slit that revealed long, sculpted legs. Every step was calculated, her movements as graceful as they were deliberate. Her confidence filled the room, her playful smirk daring anyone to approach. Her dress hugged her figure, each detail screaming elegance, but the siren-like glint in her eyes warned anyone brave enough to approach. She was magnetic—drawing gazes without even trying.

Nanami noticed her instantly, though he couldn’t pinpoint what drew him first—the way her dress glimmered under the chandeliers, or the quiet authority in her stride. One moment, he was half-listening to his coworkers drone about quotas; the next, he was captivated.

She didn’t need to seek attention—it sought her. Women flocked to her, showering her with warm greetings and effusive compliments. She reciprocated their affection with gracious smiles, her charm disarming even the iciest socialites. The men weren’t as brave, unsure whether to admire her or cower under her gaze—her siren-like aura daring anyone to try their luck.

Except for one idiot.

Fucking Gojo.

Nanami’s jaw tightened as his white-haired colleague made a spectacle of himself, wrapping his arms around her from behind like an old friend reunited. Her face scrunched in irritation, a flash of disdain that Nanami couldn’t help but savor. But then she turned, her expression softening as she saw who it was. To his dismay, she hugged him back.

Nanami’s fingers curled around the glass of whiskey he hadn’t touched in a while, the gold trim biting into his palm. Jealousy wasn’t his style—not like he wasn’t already married. But Gojo was a different story. The man had a knack for testing limits, his arrogance as boundless as his charm.

She was the embodiment of contradictions: sharp yet soft, fun yet untouchable, her elegant demeanor veiling something far more dangerous. Her eyes scanned the room lazily while still talking to her friends, landing briefly on him. Their gazes locked for a beat too long, and when her lips curled into a teasing smile, his chest tightened.

Nanami’s breath hitched when their gazes briefly locked. Her smile—a challenge, a tease, a warning. His pulse quickened, a subtle betrayal against his otherwise calm exterior.

“Who’s she?” The same irritating intern—a nineteen-year-old with an unfortunate crush—sidled up beside him, her tone laced with poorly masked jealousy. Nanami rolled his eyes at his male coworkers ogling her & this unfortunate girl next to him.

His focus remained on the woman who now stood at the bar, her long fingers adorned with a curious glove-like jewelry piece, casually toying with her champagne glass. She moved with precision, grace—everything about her was deliberate, calculated. Dangerous.

He didn’t notice the minutes slipping by, his colleagues’ words fading into background noise. Her every movement consumed his attention. When she slipped away toward the bathrooms, he barely hesitated.

A coworker intercepted him as he moved. “Nanami! Where’s your wife? Haven’t seen her yet tonight.” His annoying sing-song voice didn’t help the fact that this was Nanami’s biggest backstabbing bitch of a rival who called himself his work bestie.

“Still at work,” Nanami replied smoothly, his tone dismissive as he strode away, leaving behind muttered speculations about his sudden interest in someone other than his wife.

The hallway was quieter, the grandeur of the mansion amplified in its silence. High ceilings loomed above, ornate crown moldings tracing every corner. The door she had disappeared behind—a glossy black with gold fixtures—stood ajar, just enough to let him see the dim light within.

He knocked twice. Firm. Purposeful.

The response was immediate. The door cracked open, but before he could utter a word, a hand grabbed his tie and yanked him inside.

His back hit the closed door with a soft thud, The lock clicked shut, and then her mouth was on his—hot, demanding, searing, every bit as dangerous as he’d imagined. Her fingers tugged him down, and he obliged without question, instinctively gripping her waist.

“Not even a hello?” he murmured against her mouth, his voice low, strained.

“Hello,” she whispered, her tone dripping with mockery before she kissed him again, her nails grazing the nape of his neck. The heat in her gaze making his stomach tighten. Oh she was definitely a siren.

She moved with purpose, her hands deftly working the buttons of his shirt. Frustration flickered across her face when they resisted her urgency. With a soft growl, she yanked, sending buttons scattering across the pristine tiled floor.

“They’re custom,” Nanami deadpanned, his voice strained with effort. “My wife chose them.”

“No wonder they’re ugly,” she quipped, her smirk sharp, her eyes daring. “Send me the bill.”

Nanami chuckled low, the sound reverberating through his chest as he flipped their positions with practiced ease. Her back hit the full-length mirror with a soft thud, the cold glass drawing a gasp from her lips. He paused, taking in the sight of her—flushed, pupils blown wide, lips swollen from their kiss. For a moment, his reflection caught his eye: disheveled, hungry, a man on the brink.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered, leaning in to bite the sensitive skin of her neck.

“Stop talking,” she countered, her hands fisting in his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him groan.

He obliged.

The kiss turned feral, all finesse abandoned as tension unravelled into pure, unfiltered need. Her dress slid up her thighs, his belt clattered to the floor, and the sterile room filled with a symphony of gasps, moans, and whispered curses. Her scent felt like déjà vu—both unsettling and magnetic.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed her harder against the mirror, the chill of the glass contrasting the heat between them. His hands roamed, one gripping her thigh to steady her, the other sliding up to the neckline of her dress. His fingers traced the daring slit, his touch firm and possessive.

She kissed him again, her lips demanding, her teeth scraping against his lower lip just enough to sting. His right hand found her waist as his other found its perch on her decolletage then on her breasts, kneading as she moaned in his mouth still biting his lower lip. He spun her & lifted her effortlessly, in one smooth motion until her back met the cold mirror on the nearby large counter. She gasped at the sudden chill, her legs wrapping around his hips instinctively.

The bathroom radiated wealth��black marble countertops with gold inlays, pristine crystal fixtures glinting under soft, ambient lighting, and a rainfall shower that gleamed as if it had never been touched. The air was scented faintly with bergamot and cedar, the kind of understated opulence that whispered money rather than screamed it. But tonight, it wasn't the decor that took center stage. It was the chaos unfolding on the countertop, where passion replaced polish.

The sounds of their frenzy filled the room—the scrape of nails against skin, muffled gasps, whispered curses, and the occasional clatter of toiletries knocked askew. Nanami had her pinned against the marble, her legs trembling, the coolness of the surface a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from their bodies.

Then, with a devilish smirk, he knelt, his large hands splaying over the backs of her thighs as he pushed the fabric up to her hips. She gasped, her head falling back against the mirror as he tore the delicate fabric of her underwear with his teeth, the rip of lace punctuated by her sharp intake of breath.

“Ken—”

He didn’t let her finish. His mouth found her, hot and demanding, his tongue flicking over her clit in slow, deliberate strokes that left her gasping. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair, nails scraping his scalp as she arched into him, her breath hitching with every movement of his tongue.

Every touch was a battle for dominance, each moment teetering on the edge of control and chaos. His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her steady as she tilted her head back, her lips parted in a breathless moan.

When his fingers joined the fray—one, then two, then three—she let out a muffled cry, her hands trembling as they gripped his hair tighter. The rhythm was torturous, the pace perfectly calculated to keep her teetering on the edge.

“Quiet,” he murmured against her, though the command lacked any real authority.

Her laughter was breathless, broken. “Make me.”

He did. By taking off his shirt & shoving it in her mouth.

Her body trembled, her moans rising in pitch as she clawed at his hair, hips bucking against his mouth. His grip tightened, holding her in place as he worked her closer, his tongue and fingers moving in perfect harmony. Her cries grew louder, her body arching as the tension snapped, pleasure rippling through her like a tidal wave.

Her legs jerked, her entire body clenching as she came with a cry muffled by her own hand. Her chest heaved, her head falling back against the mirror as aftershocks wracked her frame. Still, Nanami didn’t stop, his tongue lapping up every drop of her release like she was the finest wine.

When he finally stood, he was a picture of disheveled control—shirtless, hair tousled. His eyes burned with fiery hunger as he took in her flushed face, her dress bunched up around her waist, her body still twitching in the aftermath.

Gripping the straps of her dress, he tugged them down her shoulders, exposing her bare chest. Her breasts bounced with the movement, drawing a low growl from his throat.

“Perfect,” he muttered, leaning down to capture a nipple in his mouth, his hand kneading the other. Her back arched, a fresh wave of heat flooding her as he alternated between biting and soothing with his tongue, leaving her gasping.

She fumbled with the waistband of his trousers, still hazy from her release but desperate for more. Nanami pulled back, just enough to watch her hands struggle with the clasp, his lips quirking into a smirk. 

Her breath hitched as she finally undid his belt, pulling his cock free. Her eyes widened in shock, momentarily frozen. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” he teased, his voice a deep rumble against her ear. He bit down lightly on her neck, his other hand busy kneading her breast, while his nails left faint crescent moons in the flesh of her ass.

“Shut up,” she muttered, her voice muffled by his shirt, which she still clung to, unwilling to completely let her guard down. Despite her hesitance, her hand moved, slow at first, tentative strokes exploring him. The low "fuck" that escaped his lips emboldened her, and her fingers became bolder—squeezing at the tip, letting her thumb tease the slit, earning sharp hisses from him. He groaned, catching himself before her touch unraveled him entirely.

“Enough,” Nanami growled, gripping his cock to guide it toward her slick entrance. She braced herself, mewling softly as he deliberately didn’t push in, instead teasing her, his cockhead gliding against her swollen folds. The wet slide was maddening, the tension building as he refused to give her what she wanted. Her eyes flashed with impatience, and the look of anger made him smirk through his own restraint.

But even he couldn’t hold out for long. With a sharp thrust, he pushed inside her, slow at first, letting her adjust to the stretch, both of them hissing at the intensity. Her breath hitched, her body tightening around him as if pulling him deeper.

Once he was fully sheathed, Nanami abandoned any pretense of restraint. He withdrew almost completely before slamming back in, forcing a loud, uncontrollable whimper from her. His pace turned brutal, driving into her with a force that made the marble countertop tremble beneath them. Her muffled moans turned into curses, sharp and biting, directed at him but fueled by the overwhelming pleasure.

He leaned down, capturing her lips, pulling the shirt away from her mouth to deepen the kiss. She bit his lower lip, sharp enough to sting, but he didn’t pull away, pressing his tongue against hers in a messy clash of teeth and hunger. The kiss grew rough, leaving behind the faintest metallic taste from their unintentional bites, neither willing to ease up.

Breaking away to catch his breath, Nanami's thrusts didn’t falter. His hips slammed against hers, forcing cries from her throat. Her nails raked down his back, desperate, as though she needed to cling to him to keep herself grounded like she needed them to fuse on a molecular level.

Despite his relentless pace, his lips softened, trailing kisses along her jawline, down her neck, and finally to her breasts. He nipped and sucked at the delicate skin, his attention split between breaking her apart with his cock and worshipping the parts of her he loved most.

The sound of skin meeting skin echoed, mixing with her whines and his sharp breaths. Her back arched off the counter, her body trembling as she climbed toward release. He knew she was close, her walls tightening around him in a way that made his restraint crumble. Shifting his focus, he slid one hand between them, rubbing precise circles against her clit.

Her reaction was instant—a sharp, keening cry muffled when he cupped a hand over her mouth. She came with a full-body shudder, her walls clenching around him, drawing him deeper as she unraveled.

“She’s sucking me in…so tight,” he murmured, voice hoarse, as his control finally broke. His eyes fluttered shut as his own climax surged through him, leaving him breathless and trembling. He barely managed to catch himself before collapsing onto her entirely, his arms braced on either side of her as he let the aftershocks roll through him.

For a moment, neither of them moved, their bodies still pressed together. Her fingers traced soothing circles on his back as they caught their breaths, the occasional tremor running through her as she adjusted to the lingering sensitivity.

The bathroom was a mess—perfume bottles askew, the mirror fogged with their heat, and the faint scent of sex mingling with the rich cologne that clung to his skin. The luxurious setting only amplified the rawness of what had transpired, making the contrast all the more striking.

Nanami finally pulled back, brushing a kiss to her forehead before helping her sit up. The marble was cold against her skin, grounding her as she rested her head against his chest. Neither spoke, the silence heavy but not uncomfortable, their breaths the only sound in the aftermath of their shared chaos.

“Your technique hasn’t changed,” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

He froze. The words hit like a bucket of ice water. Nanami leaned back slightly, his brows furrowing as he studied her face. "What?"

"You heard me," she said, brushing his cheek with her fingers, her touch light but deliberate.

Then she laughed, the sound light but cutting, slicing clean through his overthinking. "Relax, Mr. Nanami," she teased, her lips quirking up in amusement. "I’m just grateful for the first million you invested in my company when no one else would even hear me out."

His gaze sharpened, and he leaned back slightly, realization dawning as her words sunk in. Her lips twitched, as though she could see the wheels turning in his head.

Nanami's expression softened, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Mrs. L/N," he said dryly. "Should I prepare my chequebook again?"

"Always," she shot back, leaning up to kiss him.

“You’re still mine, Kento,” she murmured, her lips brushing his ear.

When they pulled apart, her smile lingered, but her tone turned warm. "Congratulations on the house, by the way."

"And to you, Mrs. L/N," he replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch lingering. He arched a brow, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "Though I do have to ask—what was that dress for?”

When she just smirked, "Y/N,” he said, his tone a mix of exasperation and affection. “You planned this, didn’t you?"

"You looked miserable out there," she said simply, shrugging. "Your coworkers are vultures. I couldn’t just stand by and watch you suffer."

He exhaled, resting his forehead against hers. “I owe you one."

"You owe me plenty," she said, her hands gliding over his chest with a teasing softness. "But I’m not done. My company just hit a billion-dollar valuation, which means—" she smirked, her voice dropping into a mockingly serious tone—"you, my dear husband, can finally quit working for those corporate overlords. Effective immediately."

Nanami blinked, her words taking a moment to register. Before he could protest, she cut him off with a raised finger.

"And don’t give me that 'we need backup' talk," she added, rolling her eyes. "I’ve made enough for the next fifteen generations to sit around and squander. You’re free."

Relief washed over him, palpable in the long, slow exhale he let out. He pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers again. "I can finally spend my days as a stay-at-home husband," he chuckled, a rare smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. "What a dream."

"And a trophy husband," she corrected with a wicked grin. "I’ll deck you out with butlers to cater to your every whim. Even guards, drivers, and private pilots. The works."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re ridiculous."

"And you love it," she said, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw before stepping back, smoothing her dress. The fabric shimmered under the light, effortlessly elegant even after their impromptu escapade.

Her tone turned matter-of-fact as she continued. "Now, pack your bags. We’re going on a month-long vacation. We’ve barely seen each other this quarter."

"When do we leave?" he asked, arching a brow.

"An hour." Her smirk was mischievous. "Don’t worry about clothes—we’ll buy what we need when we get there."

He frowned slightly, glancing toward the door. "The house is still full of people."

She waved a hand dismissively. "Your white-haired menace can handle it."

As if summoned, a knock sounded at the door.

"Nanami," Gojo’s unmistakable voice called out, muffled but annoyingly cheerful. "I know you told me not to disturb you, but if you want to leave on time, you should probably come out now."

"I hate that he knows us so well." Nanami groaned, burying his face in his hands as her laughter bubbled up, rich and melodic. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she stepped closer, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

"At least we don’t have to clean up," she quipped, nodding toward the mess they’d left behind.

"Small mercies," he muttered, reaching for his shirt on the floor.

The mansion’s grandeur loomed around them, but for the moment, it all felt distant. The house was a masterpiece, every corner screaming wealth and success. But it was her—her presence, her wit, and her audacity—that made it feel like a home.

Once outside, Nanami walked straight to his new bedroom, its sleek modern design reflecting the house’s absurd luxury. The massive space was bathed in warm recessed lighting, with polished hardwood floors and a California king bed draped in silk sheets that practically whispered decadence. A walk-in closet—automated, of course—stood neatly stocked with new designer clothes, meticulously organized by color and style.

Gojo trailed behind him like an overenthusiastic puppy, his own martini glass in hand. "Aren’t you going to thank me for organizing this amazing party?" he chirped, watching as Nanami grabbed the first shirt he saw.

Without a word, Nanami stripped off his old shirt and replaced it with a crisp white button-up. The expensive fabric clung perfectly to his frame, a subtle reminder of how far from average he—and this house—was. He took the whisky glass Gojo handed him before taking a swig.

"Thank you, Gojo, for organizing this party," he deadpanned. "It’s not like we paid for it or anything."

Gojo chuckled, unbothered as always. "Fair, but I still expect to cash in the favor someday in the future."

Nanami nodded, adjusting his cufflinks before heading back toward the party, Gojo still on his heels. As they stepped into the grand ballroom, the sheer scale of it hit anew—vaulted ceilings with intricate gold accents

His gaze immediately found her. She stood near the bar, effortlessly commanding attention. She was speaking to two women Nanami vaguely recognized as the CTO and CFO of her company. Her laughter rang out, warm and genuine, and for a moment, he simply watched.

But before he could make his way to her, someone intercepted him.

"Nanami-san! There you are!" an overly cheerful voice called out. He turned to find the same annoying intern from his office, flanked by a smug co-worker whose very presence grated on his nerves.

"This place is huge," the intern continued breathlessly. "I looked everywhere for you!"

Nanami barely managed a polite nod before the co-worker opened his mouth. "Where’s your wife, Nanami?" he sing-songed, his tone laced with mockery as if testing the waters.

Gojo, ever the opportunist, draped an arm around Nanami’s shoulders. "Oh, you haven’t met her yet?" he interjected, grinning slyly. "Must not be that close, huh?"

The co-worker scowled, but before Nanami could enjoy the moment, the intern piped up. "Wait—you’re married? Why didn’t you say that before?"

Nanami’s expression darkened. One thing about him—he could be many things, but unfaithful wasn’t one of them. And she had just implied he’d hidden his marriage.

"Excuse me?" he said sharply, his tone brooking no argument.

But the intern, oblivious, pressed on. "You never mentioned you were married—"

"Please," he cut her off, his voice icily calm. "Do not imply that I’ve hidden my marriage. I’ve been married for years and have never avoided talking about my wife when asked. If you’re unaware, perhaps that says more about your interest in me as a person than anything else."

He brushed past them without waiting for a reply, heading straight toward her. Gojo followed, but not before turning back to deliver one final dig. "He talks about her all the time with his friends," he said, smirking. "Guess you’re just colleagues."

As Nanami reached her, his hand slid possessively around her waist. The gesture was subtle yet unmistakable, a silent declaration. He greeted his wife’s employees with his usual smile since they were better than his co-workers hence they were hired.

Gojo clinked his glass loudly to draw everyone’s attention.

"Everyone!" he announced, his voice carrying over the murmur of the crowd. "A toast to the lovely couple!"

Heads turned in their direction, though many had already been staring at her. Nanami cleared his throat, his voice steady as he addressed the room.

"Thank you all for coming to our housewarming party," he began, his hand still resting securely on her waist. "For those of you who don’t know, this is Y/N L/N. She’s my wife." His lips quirked into the faintest smile as he glanced at her. "Isn’t she stunning?"

There was a ripple of polite laughter, but he wasn’t finished.

"She hasn’t visited the office because she’s been working tirelessly on her company, Curse Cop, which, as of today, has officially reached a billion-dollar valuation." He paused, his voice softening as he looked at her with unguarded admiration. "Please, drink to your heart’s content, because starting tomorrow, I’ll be on vacation with her—and I’ll also be stepping down as Finance Director to spend more time with my wife, as I promised her."

A wave of applause broke out, though Nanami’s coworkers exchanged muttered remarks, their envy thinly veiled.

"How’d he even get with her?" one whispered.

"It makes sense," another replied grudgingly. "He’s the kind of man every woman wants."

But none of that mattered. Nanami leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips, as if the room around them didn’t exist.

For him, in that moment, it didn’t.

A/N: You thought Kento would cheat huh [̲̅$̲̅(̲̅ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] Thanks for diving into this tangled mess of lust and love. If you caught the twist and loved it (or even hated it), drop a comment. I live for your chaos and crave your feedback like Nanami craves his wife. 🖤

Masterlist

[actuallysaiyan]

This fic has a special place in my heart. I had always meant to finish the part 2...but it never happened. I still really love this fic so much.

Waiting For The Miracle(Villain!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

I dreamed about you, baby It was just the other night

Let's see if we're that strong Yeah let's do something crazy, Something absolutely wrong

warnings: Dark themes, murder, violence, abuse, blood, smut, unprotected sex, weapons, swearing, choking, rough sex, Yandere themes pairings: Villain!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader word count: 3.5k summary: Nanami Kento has a rage that builds deep inside of him for years. The minute he finds out that you are the victim of abuse, he snaps...and what ensues is the madness that you both descend into. taglist: @beneathstarryskies @seireiteihellbutterfly @an-ever-angry-bi @benkeibear @namikyento @adharadotcom @anonimusunnoaniswriting @erebus-et-eigengrau

I cannot stress this enough, this is a VERY VERY VERY VERY dark piece of writing. I do not condone these actions, but I just want everyone to know that this isn't for the faint of heart. If you cannot deal with any of the warnings mentioned above, please you should skip this. Heavily inspired by the film Natural Born Killers.

Nanami was outraged. He’s been holding these feelings deep inside of himself for years. They threatened to spill over so many times, but he was so good at keeping himself in check. So many times he clenched his fist and bit his tongue. Losing his best friend and watching his upperclassman defect, it made the fire deep in the pit of his belly become even more heated.

Kento took lots of comfort in knowing he always had you. You, the bright eyed smiling girl of his dreams. You worked hard to become a sorcerer that was at his own level. Both of you became Grade One sorcerers in no time. But what Kento never knew was that you were hiding your own secret. He had no idea that you harbored just as much pain as he did. Maybe you harbored even more pain than him.

For years, you endured the abuse of your family. The minute they found out that you could see curses and that you weren’t just mentally ill, they found it so repulsive to keep you around. During the summer vacation, you always wished you could go somewhere else but home. They tried to hide you like some dirty secret, but you always found solace in coming to school.

Meeting Kento and Haibara has been your saving grace. Having two best friends who would do absolutely anything for you made you feel like a normal person. It’s why you hid your secret from them for years. Neither of them had any idea that your family was treating you like some sort of pariah.

After the loss of your sweet friend Yu Haibara, something broke deep inside of Nanami. You watched him shift from calm and collected to sullen and deep inside himself. Then both of you felt so helpless losing Suguru as well. You, Satoru and Kento tried to pick up the pieces, but it all just seemed to be too hard. Gojo became too strong for any of you to match him, and Kento grew increasingly angry at the world.

It started with one mission gone wrong. Kento found himself in a conundrum where he could save someone at the cost of losing the curse. The curse taunted him one too many times, and so he allowed the victim to be hurt to be able to exorcize the curse. 

The blood that splattered from the victim ended up on Kento’s face. He shuddered at the way it suddenly excited him. His eyes rolled back and he smeared that blood. The victim watched in horror before their life was snuffed out. He used his Ratio technique, hitting them right in their weakest point.

From that moment on, Kento finds himself growing addicted to the spilled blood. He knows it’s wrong to allow innocent people to die, but he also knows he can’t stop the anger that fuels him. He’s gone too far down this path, and he doesn’t think he could ever deviate from it.

So the moment he found out that your family had been abusing you, Kento grew even more angry. It was like his whole body was crying out to end this madness. You were his everything. The apple of his eye. His sweet angel. He knew he’d kill for you if he had to. And he would stop at nothing to keep you safe…

It’s late one night when he knocks on the door of your family home. You open it to see him, and you swear you’ve never seen this look in his eyes. It’s pure rage that you can see. It excites you in a way that is confounding and eerily comforting. 

“Are you home alone?” he asks, his fists shaking from being clenched so hard. 

“N-no.” You reply in a quiet voice. 

You know that you shouldn’t let him in, but you feel it in your heart that this could be your way out. As you shut the door behind him, you hear your father calling out from his spot on the couch.You wished that he would just leave you alone for once in your life. 

“Who the fuck is here?”

You shudder and cower when you hear that tone of his voice. Tears sting your eyes, and Kento is quick to notice the way you’re reacting to this. He gently cups your face in his hands and he leans in closer.

“I’m here to deliver you from this pain,”

His words make your heart skip a beat. Your eyes widen and you try to understand just exactly what he means when he says he’s going to deliver you from this pain. What does he plan to do? Your heart races as you watch Nanami pull the carrying case from his back and unsheathes his blunt blade.

“K-Kento, what are you—”

But you’re interrupted by your father coming in to investigate what’s going on. His eyes narrow at the blond standing in front of you. You can tell your father is beyond pissed off at this point. You make no move to intervene.

“I knew it! You really just let any man into this house,” your father spits out. “Who’s this scumbag anyway?”

Kento sneers, “You’re never putting your hands on her ever again.”

Your father is about to laugh in his face, but you watch in surprise as Kento uses his ratio technique on your father. There’s a split second where your father doesn’t quite realize what’s just happened. Then the blood begins to gush from his throat.

You blink and squeal in surprise when some of the blood splatters on your face. With shaking hands, you try to wipe it off your face. Yet all you manage to do is smear it, and just like Kento some time ago, something changes inside of you. You look at the man you love.

“You…you killed him,” you say in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I did it for you. Nothing’s going to take you away from me. Never again,”

Kento wraps his arms around you, ignoring the gurgling noises that your dying father makes. Then you feel Kento’s lips on yours in such a heated kiss. Neither of you know where this passion has come from, but it feels like it’s growing with every second.

“I don’t know why you hid this from me,” Kento says as he rests his forehead against yours.

“I was ashamed. I was scared you wouldn’t see me the same way.”

Kento growls, “You are my one and only, do you understand me?”

You’re about to reply when a blood-curdling scream interrupts you both. Your mother is pointing at you, trying to convince you to move away from Kento. Then her eyes widen in horror as she sees the blood splattered and smeared on your own face. You begin to laugh as she’s piecing it all together.

“Oh sweet mother of mine,” you coo mockingly. “How many times did I ask for your help or for you to lay off me?”

“I-I-I-” she tries to get the words out, but she’s so terrified.

“I-I-I…what? You’re too scared to fucking talk to me now? After all this fucking bullshit?!” You cry out. 

Then you grab Kento’s blunt blade, imbuing it in your own cursed energy. It glimmers with red energy, pulsing and glowing. You spin it around, catching it with a scary precision. 

“Go on, darling. Show her just how strong and powerful you are,” Kento coaxes you, knowing you’ll do what you need to.

Your eyes flare with rage as your mother begins trying to reason with you. She tells you that she never meant to hurt you. She gets down on her knees and begins to beg for forgiveness. You slowly slide the blunt blade down her cheek, making a cut from the imbued cursed energy.

“What kind of mother hurts her own flesh and blood?” you ask her, tears in your eyes. “What kind of mother lets her little baby become the victim of years of abuse?”

Your mother tries to defend herself, but it’s too late. Kento watches you proudly as you slash the blade. Blood pours out of her wound, and she grasps at her neck pathetically.

“You let him hurt me for years. You let my own father— you let him touch me. You let him do anything he wanted, and all you did was watch.” You finally tell her.

You hand Kento his blade back, and he can see it on your face. You never knew that you’d be capable of doing something like this. But after being hurt so deeply by the two people who were supposed to protect you and raise you, your heart had been filled with so much rage.

“You’re free now,” he whispers softly before kissing you.

“We’re free.”

You hold his hand, and he leads you out of the house. You look at your childhood home one last time before Kento lights a match and throws it at the building. It goes up in flames within seconds, making you cheer loudly. 

Then he guides you to the car he managed to acquire. You jump into the passenger side, and Kento gets behind the wheel. He starts it up, winking at you. You never knew you could feel so liberated in your entire life.

With the music cranked up, Kento drives you far far away from all of this…

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

In the hotel room, Kento’s hands are all over you. After a long shower to clean the blood from your skin, you feel new. He kisses you hungrily. His tongue wrestles with yours for dominance, his saliva filling your mouth sweetly. You moan at the taste of your lover. When he pulls away you watch the strings of spit keeping you both connected.

“You’re my angel,” he whispers gruffly. “Nobody will ever take you away from me.”

Your eyes widen, “Nobody will ever take you away from me either.”

His hands pin your wrists above your head. You let out such a cute moan for him as his knee spreads your legs. Kento’s eyes are alight with passion as he leans in to kiss you once more. Your lips meld together with heat and desire. Your whole body shudders as he tightens his grip on your wrists.

“I fuckin’ mean it, angel. Nobody’s taking you away from me,”

Your heart races at the sound of his voice. His words are genuine and true. He’d do anything to keep you safe. One of his hands comes up to your throat, squeezing just a little to have you gasp for him.

“You are all mine,” he growls in your ear. Then he squeezes your throat harder. “I’d rather fucking die than to be on this earth without you.”

You let out a strangled moan as you feel his hand dragging down your naked body. He smirks as he tweaks one of your nipples, then the other. Then he presses a kiss to your breast, his teeth gently biting down on it. 

“Shit!” you cry out, your hands gripping his hair.

Nanami chuckles darkly as he licks the deep bite mark he’s left on your sensitive flesh.His eyes flicker up at you as his large, calloused hands cup your breasts. You let out passionate gasps and whimpers as he begins to suckle on your nipples. His teeth graze them, making you jolt into his touch.

Eventually he gets fed up with waiting. He spreads your thighs wide, spitting onto your already wet cunt. Using two fingers, he smears your arousal and his spit all over your weeping hole. Then he stuffs you full of his fingers, making you buck up.

“That’s it,” he coaxes you. “Think you’re ready for me?”

His cock rests against your mound and he pulls his fingers out of your cunt. You nod eagerly, begging for him. With one fluid movement, Kento bottoms out inside of you. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust, slamming into you over and over.

The air from your lungs is forced out, making you gasp and pant from the intense pleasure. You’ve never seen him look at you like this. It’s like he’s trying to bound your souls together. His hands grip your hips, pulling you down with each harsh thrust. 

“Don’t worry about anything,” Kento growls against your ear. “Never going to let anyone touch my fuckin’ angel ever again.”

You cling to him, wrapping your arms and legs around him. “I love you so much. I never want to let you go.”

Kento picks up his pace, nibbling at your neck. With every thrust, he tells you about how he’s never letting anyone come near you anymore. You’re always going to be right by his side where you belong.

“You belong to me, and only me…” he pushes his cock deeper inside of you.

The coil inside of you snaps and your orgasm comes crashing down over you. You cry out, your nails digging deep into the muscles of Nanami’s well-toned back.

“Fuck that’s it,” Nanami grunts as his hips go faster. “Good girl, my good girl.”

He grips you even harder, his fingertips surely going to leave bruises into your skin. His eyes are boring into yours, a flame of desire building between the two of you. It’s going to consume you both.

“Nobody’s taking my baby away from me!” Thrust. “All mine, you got it?!” Thrust. “Gonna claim you and keep you safe!” Thrust.

And with the final thrust, his cock is nestled bruisingly against your cervix. Shots of his thick potent cum begin filling your awaiting womb. You let out another sweet cry of love, making Nanami growl loudly.

“Mine!”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The days and weeks that follow are a whirlwind of pain, pleasure and killing. You and Nanami find yourselves unable to contain the bloodlust that seems to have infected the two of you. The rage that built so deep inside both of you has become uncontainable. It grew so fast.

Each and every little village you go to, you find yourselves unable to stop killing. With you seducing the worst types of people, Nanami is right there ready to attack them. Doesn't matter if they are men or women, you two get your fix together.

One night you’re in a small bar together, enjoying each other’s company. To anyone looking at you, nobody would be able to tell you’re the infamous curse users. Nobody knows who you two are. 

The music starts up on the jukebox and your eyes light up with excitement. You get up from your seat, getting closer to the source of the music. 

“This is my favorite song!” You exclaim, losing yourself to the music.

Nanami watches you, his eyes full of nothing but pure love. This soon turns into something else as a few men begin to take notice of you. His eyes are narrow and precise as one of these scumbags approaches you and tries to place his hand on you.

“Hey fuckface! I’m just tryin’ to dance here!” You spit out, pushing him off of you.

“What’s your fucking problem!? Stupid cunt!”

He’s about to hit you, when you slam him into the wall. The man’s eyes are wide as he notices how you are much stronger than you appear. Everyone is looking at the display, but Nanami’s got his eyes locked on just you. He thinks to himself how proud he is that you’re his girl.

“Now, now…let’s settle this calmly, little miss.”

You spit in the man’s face, “I told you, I was just dancing. You’re the one who got fucking handsy with me!”

The man’s eyes widen when he sees you pulling back his fist. Nobody in the bar can see the cursed energy imbued in your fist. The guy tries to reason with you, but it’s much too late when your hand connects with his fist. Everyone screams in horror as the blood comes flying out of the guy’s nose and eyes.

“Holy fuck!” Someone from the crowd exclaims.

Before anyone else can do anything, you watch as your true love pulls the blunt blade from his harness concealed beneath the cream blazer. Everyone watches you both as you begin attacking the people in the bar.

“Think you can just watch as a couple of scumbags try to take advantage of a young woman?” Kento asks the scared patrons. “Is this really what you want to see happen right in front of your eyes? How disgusting!”

One of the men comes over and tries to reason with him, which makes Nanami swing his blade while pairing it with the Ratio technique. You squeal in delight as you watch your lover dispatch these evil people.

Soon it turns into an all-out brawl. The bar was packed with so many people, and here you and Nanami are trying to teach them all a lesson. All you wanted was a night out for fun, but they showed you their ugly side. 

“Don’t even think about touching my pretty little angel,” Nanami sneers as he grabs someone by the back of their neck.

And he holds the person steady for you, causing you to use your cursed energy to set their nerves alight. They foam at the mouth from the intense shock to their system. Their eyes flutter shut, and then you strike them with your fist.

The last person alive is a writer named Genevieve. She pleads for her life, telling you she’s nothing but a lowly writer. You look over at your lover, smirking playfully. Then Kento sheathes his blunt blade back into the holster.

“Take your swing, honey.”

The last thing the writer sees is your fist coming straight for her face…

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The car slows down on an empty bridge. You’ve been driving for a long time. Kento looks at you when he cuts the engine. Then he gets out of the car, coming around to open your door. He takes your hand in his, leading you towards the railing.

“Look at that beautiful river,” Kento whispers in your ear. “The water flows endlessly…just like our love.”

Your pupils are blown wide with love. Kento cups your face gently, kissing you so tenderly. It’s been such a wild ride already, but you’re ready to continue this life with him. You know you’d happily die for him. You’d happily kill for him again and again and again…

“Let’s do this properly, yeah?”

You nod your head. Kento leads you back to the car and you gather up some stuff from your past life. He helps you push it off the side of the bridge. Mementos, pieces of clothing you’d never wear again and even family photos scatter in the water.

“Goodbye bitch,” you say to your former self. “I’m a free woman now!”

You climb onto the railing, raising your arms up and letting out a loud cry. Kento looks at you like you strung the stars in the sky just for him. He places his hand protectively on your back, keeping you steady.

“Let’s get married,” Kento finally announces.

You look back at him, your eyebrow cocked when you finally take in what he’s just said. You laugh wildly.

“Right here? I mean…we got no priest. No officiator. No church…no temple.”

Kento helps you down onto your feet, pulling you into his arms. Your face nuzzles in the crook of your neck as he begins to play with your hair. He then leans in to whisper in your ear, his voice deep and full of desire.

“No need for any of those things. Our church is right here. We are our own officiators. Our own redeemers.”

You look deeply into his eyes, your heart thumping wildly in your ribcage like the wings of a hummingbird. Then you nod, unable to properly form the words just yet as you are overwhelmed with so much happiness.

“Give me your hand,” Nanami asks, and you do as he says.

You watch as he pulls a small buck knife. Then he makes a small incision in his hand. You gasp when you feel the cold metal on your palm next, whining softly from the pain. Then Kento clasps your hands together, holding it out over the flowing river.

“There we go,” he whispers huskily. “Now we’re husband and wife.”

You tear up, “Y-yeah! Yeah we are!”

Kento then uses his other hand to cup your face. He kisses you with all the love he can muster. Then he leans his forehead against yours, keeping your hands together and dripping blood into the river.

“And there we go…flowing in all the rivers and oceans and lakes and seas of the world. We’re everywhere all at once.”

You look into his eyes, then you wrap your arms around him completely, kissing him so sweetly. You never knew that life could be so free. You know that things aren’t going to be the most normal with this relationship, but you wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.

“I love you forever, Kento.” 

He smiles, “And I love you forever, darling.”

[twinkletfout]

Nanami is the type of husband to pop a boner every time the both of you kiss.. THINK ABOUT IT

it's just a simple kiss and just when you are about to exit the car, his hand would reach out to you and he would just say "wait.." during the first few times it happened you were confused. "What's up?" You asked looking over at him. "Gimme 5 minutes" he wasn't looking at you, just anywhere else other than your face cause looking at your face is not going to help his little problem right now "5 minutes for what?" You asked, even more confused. He adjusted his pants slightly as he sank down on his seat, spreading his legs "um.. darlin' this is a little.. embarrassing to say but.." he rubbed the back of his neck, you noticed his ears turning a soft pinkish color. "What's wrong, ken?" You asked more impatiently, "I'm getting worried—"

he let out a heavy sigh as he said "I'm hard" your eyes widened as you tilted your head to the side, thinking if you heard it correctly. "Did i-" he cut you off before you finished your sentence, "yes you heard it correctly" his ears a bright reddish color now, "from the kiss? Really?" You asked. He nodded his head, embarrassed. You looked at him in disbelief, but you were quite turned on at the fact that you could turn him on just from a kiss "Don't look at me like that, sweetheart, it's not helping.."

[affableramen]

jjk masterlist

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　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦ ˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦

ʚɞ suguru geto:

in love with a non-sorcerer

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

ʚɞ smau sfw:

waking up sick

[lxnarphase]

𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !

❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k

❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk

❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!

the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.

after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.

you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.

it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.

there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?

well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.

you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.

it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.

has...has he always looked that handsome?

he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.

"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.

"mm."

slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door

"good."

dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.

he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.

you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.

once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.

his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.

modest, yet sensual.

"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...

you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.

"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"

it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.

a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...

it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.

"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"

such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.

It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.

but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.

the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.

his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.

calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.

even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.

"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.

the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.

neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.

sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?

they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.

'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.

however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.

"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.

"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.

he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.

"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."

with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.

you were this aroused just from...talking?

the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.

you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!

you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.

but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!

a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.

if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.

no true man of god would do such a thing.

"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."

giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.

something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.

so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.

a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.

he's so fucked.

"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.

the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.

this is what it felt like?

this is what he waited for?

fuck, it felt...it felt so good.

too good.

for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.

little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.

his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.

no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.

the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.

meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.

the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.

the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.

"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.

“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.

but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.

nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.

look at her.

those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.

so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.

"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"

messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.

he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.

how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?

doesn't she know she's giving into lust?

doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?

"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.

nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.

but he's lying to himself.

he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.

the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.

"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."

he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.

his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.

you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.

“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”

be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.

his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.

the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.

fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.

but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.

breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.

with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.

this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.

"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.

"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.

his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."

a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,

"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.

if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.

"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."

he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.

"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.

his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.

nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.

"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."

that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.

it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.

no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.

the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.

"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.

he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.

"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."

with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.

the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.

your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.

not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.

"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.

you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.

"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.

no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—

"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.

"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"

with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.

it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.

a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.

oh.

you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...

his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.

it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.

"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."

but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.

"k-kento, that's nasty!"

all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.

clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.

but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.

"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.

his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?

"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."

may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[pmpmyread]

This was such a riveting read. The tension is so well conveyed, palpable both characters and within the Reader character. I love the complex character flaws explored; it really helped bring some dimension to the story and made for a unique and interesting Reader character. Nanami’s characterization is on point, both in his personality and his capacity as a mentor figure. You can tell that he is well-intentioned and really seeks to see and understand the reader for who they are. Thanks for sharing this, OP!

wc: 2.6k

contents: nanami x gn!reader; age gap (they're both adults); kind of a mentor/mentee relationship (but not really); reader has some unresolved issues; (sexual?) tension; seemingly one-sided crush; suggestive; MDNI

a/n: a little something while I'm working on the toji fic. the voices made me write this, I hope y'all will enjoy it. comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! divider credits: @cafekitsune

“Are you hungry?”

A shake of your head, barely noticeable. As expected, Nanami mused. He held down a loud sigh.

The lethargic state in which the mission – the whole day – had left him was wearing him down, and all he wanted to do was lie in his bed and close his eyes. But even then, sleep came hard to him; it hovered above him, a painful tease, but it never dared to give him a sweet release. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt fully rested.

“Is there something else you want?”, Nanami tried again, a swift glance towards you.

You only made a dismissive noise in response. The sound almost got drowned out by the heavy rain outside of Nanami’s car. Every hit of the rain against his windows like a punch, with vigour and frustration behind it. Nanami tried not to let his frustration show.

If there was one thing Nanami didn't lack, it was self-awareness and the ability to see through others.

He knew that in the eyes of most of his peers, he came across as stern, overly composed and perhaps a bit too serious. More than once did he hear from them that he ought to relax more and be less formal, but despite all that, they still had a certain respect (and some even admiration) for him. He was able to handle majority of his peers, albeit with a headache sometimes.

Yet he - for the life of him - couldn't figure out why you suddenly became a different person when he was near you. He caught a glimpse of how you acted around others – you were relaxed, laughed at some of the jokes that were made and could hold conversations without any problems.

So why did you act so strange around him?

Nanami would even go so far as to say that you seemed irritated by him. Sometimes he’d catch the roll of your eyes when he’d admonish you, or you'd give him a halfhearted nod when he’d share an important piece of information with you, as if you were trying to have as little conversation with him as possible. As if any interaction with him was a pain in the ass. It deepened his frown each time, the ache in his already throbbing head only getting worse.

He was used to a reaction like this towards Gojo, someone who was naturally irritating, but towards him?

Today, you went on a mission together. Initially, you were supposed to go on your own, but the higher ups decided it would be better if Nanami tagged along, in case something happened and you wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Nanami told you that he would stay out of the mission - your mission - and that he would only intervene if he thought it was necessary. Until a certain point, you believed that the mission was going well and that it would end in success for you. A way to prove yourself, to show everyone how capable you were. But then fate decided to show its twisted sense of humor today; just when you thought you had exorcised all the curses, another one suddenly came from behind you, catching you off guard. Too fast for you to react in time.

And the worst thing? Nanami had to come to your rescue, even though you nearly had it.

So now you were sitting in his car, parked in front of the apartment complex you lived in and waited. For what? You didn’t quite know. Nanami told you to wait until the rain stopped, since none of you had an umbrella with you. How considerate of him, right?

He sat next to you in the driver's seat, not a single strand of his perfectly coiffed hair out of place, not even a small stain on his clean, pressed suit.

With each passing minute, the silence between the two of you only grew more tense. Since all available managers were busy with other sorcerers, Nanami offered to use his car. He didn’t expect to do much or any work at all.

Your arms were crossed against your chest as you stared out of the window, chewing on the inside of your cheek and pointedly avoiding looking at the man next to you. You seemed uncomfortable, visibly upset, and that in return made Nanami restless; he tried to remember if he unknowingly offended you earlier. He sometimes tended to be a bit harsh, not feeling and seeing the need to sugarcoat things, but he was not someone who was reluctant to praise. So what did he do to you to make you dislike him?

He cleared his throat, one of his hands loosening his tie. It started to feel awfully tight around his neck.

"If you have a problem, you can tell me. After all, we are both adults here.”

"There's no problem," you muttered, fingers intertwined in your lap. You didn’t sound very convincing and your eyes still refused to meet his.

"Clearly there is," he said matter-of-factly, tired of beating around the bush. He wanted your honesty; he could handle it. After all, he had dealt with worse things in his life. "I may not know you that well, but I can see that something is bothering you."

Another beat of silence and Nanami considered dropping the subject and giving up. If you didn’t want to talk, then he won’t force you.

You felt like pure shit. The truth was, you definitely had a problem. With him. And even though he probably didn't mean to, he brought out the worst in you, all those ugly, desperate feelings that were buried deep inside your body. You hated the way he nagged you or made you feel stupid and fragile. You usually prided yourself on being confident and collected, but he could make you question yourself and your abilities so easily without even trying. You wanted to be independent, not have to lean on him for support; you were a strong sorcerer, for God's sake. So when he had to step in and rescue you like a damsel in distress, it did more than just irritate you. Simply put, your ego couldn't handle it. And it wasn't even his fault, the cause was entirely your own deep-seated insecurities.

He wasn't much older than you, yet he somehow made you feel like a lost child that lacked decades of experience. It annoyed you, but what annoyed you even more was the strong attraction you felt towards him.

Nanami was intimidating yet gentle, someone with good intentions, probably better than any of the other senior sorcerers you worked with.

You longed for his praise, to hear his approval and let it wrap you in a warm embrace. But you were afraid of falling for it, of becoming dependent. An addict. You could never be casual about such things, the intensity was too strong in your heart, a part of you.

The smell of his expensive cologne made your head spin, the urge to nuzzle your face against his neck and breathe in his comforting, masculine scent growing harder and harder to resist. It was like fighting a natural instinct, every fiber of your body yelling at you to give in.

But what made it even harder was the simple fact that he would never see you in that light. Nanami was too good a man, you knew it, everyone knew it. It was supposed to lessen your attraction, but somehow it made it stronger. Maybe there was something seriously wrong with you.

Averting your gaze from the window, you couldn't help but let your eyes linger on his thighs, the thickness of them stretched across the seat, muscles straining against his tight slacks. You swallowed as your mind began to wander.

You imagined his big hand, the same one he used to exorcise curses, gently caressing the nape of your neck, the other one cupping your cheek so tenderly, as if you would crack under the slightest pressure, thumb brushing under your eye. The band of his watch would dig lightly into your skin, leaving faint marks that you'd only notice later when you looked in the mirror.

The sounds he'd make, a hungry humming vibrating against your lips as his mouth would fit perfectly against yours in a desperate rhythm, as if he'd waited far too long to devour you. A choked moan as your hand pressed against his thigh to stabilize yourself, nails digging into the fat there as the muscles twitched under your burning touch. 

The deep blush that would color his cheeks, spreading across the bridge of his nose as his breath hitched. The growing bulge between his thighs that would ache and harden as you brushed your fingertips over it, his hips lifting up and chasing for more.

You wanted to see him crumble because of you, to succumb to his desires and abandon his principles. To bring all the pleasure that brew underneath his skin to a boil. But you weren't naive; you knew it would only remain a distant dream, a hidden fantasy of yours. Because it was Nanami.

"I'm just exhausted," you finally responded with a shake of your head, daring to briefly meet his piercing brown eyes, rid of his glasses. You watched how his lips pressed into a flat line, his head tilted the slightest bit. You thought the expression on his face could be concern.

"Then you should take it easy," Nanami said, so frustratingly considerate. "You may be an adult, but you're still too young to suffer all this stress."

Immediately, as if he had pressed a trigger point, a groan left your mouth at his words and your head slammed back against the car seat rather dramatically. Your fingers pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Stop treating me like an incompetent child. I can handle this perfectly fine. Seriously, you're acting as if I’ve just started as a sorcerer, even though I've been doing this for several years now."

Nanami went still and blinked. His brows furrowed, the shadows on his face darkened, and he shifted in his seat to face you properly. "I do believe you're competent. You're talented, but that doesn't mean you should disregard your own limits."

Your eyelashes fluttered and you peered at him from the corner of your half-lidded eye.

"I just want you to take me seriously."

"I do. And I don't want you to end up like me; it's my duty as your senior to make sure you have it better than I did."

"But it makes me feel like shit," you bit back, all the frustration pouring out of you like an uncontrollable body of water. You couldn't hold back anymore, the gates now opened. "You may have no ill intentions, but that doesn't mean your actions can't negatively affect me."

You waved a hand at him. "And then you had to save me today. I really thought I could do it for a moment, but of course I screwed up. And you had to clean up after me."

"You did not mess up," Nanami insisted stubbornly.

“Oh, c’mon,” you scowled. “I always seem to do so in your eyes.”

"I never thought of you that way," Nanami replied, the tension in his face softening. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"Well," you murmured, rubbing the back of your neck. "I guess that's on me." You exhaled, head tipped back. "It's just hard, you know? To show any sign of weakness."

"But it's not weakness. You're just being human."

Then he reached his hand up, and you watched as he placed it on your shoulder, the size of his hand dwarfing it. The warmth of his careful touch made your skin tingle through your clothes, his thumb rubbing lightly against the tingling spot. In just a few seconds, you found it harder to breathe, the air too stuffy in his car, which seemed to have shrunk. 

A casual touch, you thought. Nothing special. But the way it consumed you and festered through your body was anything but casual.

"You did well today,” Nanami said pointedly, an attempt to calm and reassure you. The deep timbre of his voice crossed the small distance between you and traveled through your body, tightening the knot in your stomach. Your fingers pressed into the side of your seat. You held his piercing stare, fearing for a moment that he could read you every thought and figure you out. Your tongue poked out to wet your lips. A weak nod was all you could give him.  

He removed his hand, slowly, and for a fleeting moment you thought that his fingers lingered on you for a little too long before he resumed his former position and his hand returned to his leg.

You subtly shook your head again – clearly your exhaustion was taking over you and clouding your mind. You had to get yourself together. Maybe a short trip to Shoko would help.

"How do you deal with all this stress?" you asked, more calmly now that the cat was out of the bag.

He made a sound, a mix of a huff and a sigh. “I don’t deal with it; I’m afraid it will always accompany me.”

You hummed, tilting your head to rest on your shoulder. Your eyes flickered back to him. "Sounds exhausting. Have you tried anything to relieve the stress?"

“I don’t think there’s something that could relieve it. I guess that’s just the price I pay as a sorcerer.”

"Really?" you asked, sounding skeptical.  "Is there really nothing that would help relax your body? Take your mind off all this jujutsu stuff?"

His lips parted, words sitting right on the tip of his tongue, but they closed again. Instead, “No, I can’t really think of anything.”  

“Hmh, but that way you might die from the stress, and not because of a mission. That would be an unimpressive way to go.”

To your surprise, he let out a snort, the ghost of a thin smile forming on his face.

“You’re probably right.”

“Maybe I can help.”

He didn’t respond right away. Then, “How?”

"By locking Gojo up for a few hours. Or a few days."

The amused glint in the brown of his irises returned. He rubbed his eyes.

"I'm afraid that won't do much. Knowing him, he'd find a way to be annoying from wherever he's locked up."

You were about to reply, hoping to keep the conversation going, but then you looked outside; the rain had stopped. All that remained was the dark sky. Your teeth sank into your lower lip, hesitating.

"…I have to go now. It’s late and you probably also want to go home."

He gave you a curt nod. His eyes were now focused forward, an unreadable expression crossing his face.

You opened the door and climbed out of the seat, your feet already on the ground, before you turned your head slightly, giving Nanami a view of your side profile.

“…thank you, Nanami.” And I’m sorry, you wanted to add. But you weren’t there yet. Your stupid pride still had a firm grip on you and not even the little conversation you had could get you out of it. Perhaps you needed more time.

“Of course.”

As you closed the door and started to walk away, you didn't get to see him slump back into his seat with a heavy sigh, a hand running down his face, the tips of his ears turning a crimson color as shame coursed through his veins.

You would be the death of him, he was sure of it.