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liivzen · 8 days

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Cowboy!Gojoxfem!reader

warnings: pinv, fingering, Softdom!gojo, small mention of body hair, no curses au, slight angst??, pet names used a lot throughout (went a lil overboard my bad) i’m probably missing a lot so lmk if i did :)

wc: 5.1k

story info: reader works at a saloon in small town thats in the middle of nowhere and has a run in with a few people on her way home and a certain cowboy comes to her rescue

MDNI under the cut!!

You picked up the last few glasses that were left on the tables in the bar. You walked over behind the counter and started to clean them and put them back into the cabinets. Once you finished, you walked over and wiped down the counters and table. Letting out a yawn, you quickly grab your things and head to the door to lock up. After the long shift of constantly being catcalled in the saloon all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and enter your world of dreams. Shaking away the fatigue to keep yourself awake for the walk up, you lock up the door.

You turn around and start towards your apartment. It’s not that late, but with it being winter time it was already pitch black outside. The cool wind makes you shiver slightly, making you cross your arms to keep warm. Due to working at the Saloon you only wore so much fabric,the front of your skirt ending at your knees with the back dropping to the ground. The corset you wore brought warmth to your midsection but that was it. Your sleeves barely covered anything, if you could even call them sleeves. Thankfully your boss had let you wear elbow length gloves since it was winter but they didn’t help much.

Walking as briskly as possible, you continue down the street. Due to the cool weather and darkness, there was almost no one on the streets. This made the town seem like a ghost town, compared to the usually bustling town. This did your journey home even less exciting. Trying to cut the venture home, you decided to take a shortcut . In hindsight it probably wasn’t a good idea but the only thing on your mind was the warm comfy bed waiting for you in your room.

As soon as you turned down the side ally you immediately got a gross feeling. It may have looked like a normal ally during daylight, but right now it was a much more nerve racking. A few more steps in and you could see someone slouched leaning against the brick wall of one of the buildings encasing the ally. Thanks to the lack of lighting you couldn’t make out much details of the man. The only thing you could notice was a long dark jacket that reached his half calf high boots and long silver hair descending down from the black cowboy hat he was wearing.

Not wanting to take the short cut anymore, you turn around to make an escape from the ally. However, before you could take a step, you ran straight into a hard body. Looking up, a tall man is glancing down at you with a smile on his face. The man has long dark black hair, and a scar running across the middle of his forehead. He grabs onto the sides of your arms to stop you from falling backwards.

“Well what do we have here?” The stranger in front of you speaks.

You could hear footsteps behind you now, walking towards the direction of you and the stranger. You tense up in the strangers arms once you hear the footsteps stop right behind you.

“It looks like we’ve got a mouse of some sorts Suguru.” A new voice speaks, only inches from your back. You try and struggle out of the mans, Suguru you’re assuming, grasp. His grip however was very strong and you barely moved against his unrelenting hands. This made you even more scared, your heartbeat throbbing against your chest. You glanced behind yourself to get a good look at the man behind you. His silver hair went down to his mid chest and he also had scars running across his face. He had a wide grin going ear to ear and a look in his eyes that was very off putting and didn’t make you any less afraid of these two.

“What do you want?” You breathlessly say, trying your best to sound confident with your words. The two men chuckle at your question and smile at each other.

“Oh nothing, just wondering what a little lady like you was doing all by herself at night.” The one in front of you says, bending his head down so his face is parallel to yours. You try moving your face back but end up hitting the man behind you in the chest. You feel the man behind you grab onto your waist and give a not so gentle squeeze. You try again to break free of the two men but once again it doesn’t work.

You could feel tears welling up into your eyes, realizing there was very little chance of you getting out of this situation. You should’ve known better, being a woman walking around in the outfit you’re in all alone at night. The tears quickly escape your eyes and your hopes of being confident and unafraid of them have washed away. Sugurus hands slide off of your arms but grab onto your chin to make you look at him.

“Aw, the little mouse is crying Mahito.” He says, looking up at the man behind you, who now you knows name is Mahito. Mahito chuckles and starts to slide his hands up towards your breast. However before he can, the three of you hear a new voice.

“Now why do I always come across you messing innocent people Suguru.” The three of you look towards the voice that came from the end of the ally way.

The man standing there was very tall. You couldn’t see his eyes from this far away since they were blocked by his hat. He was also wearing a long jacket that reached the floor, but it was open, letting you see his white shirt he was wearing under a black vest. From this far away you could see the holsters he was adorning though. He had his hand resting on his belt loops at the front of his pants.

Suguru and Mahito loosened their grips on you but didn’t let go completely. They turned themselves around to face this new man that, at the moment, was your saving grace.

“Well where’s the fun if I don’t Satoru.” Suguru responds, slinging an arm around your shoulder. You can see the tall man at the end of ally, Satoru, shake his head and start walking towards you three slowly. You could hear the clicks of his spurs as he started to walk, making him seem very intimidating. As he got closer you could see the man a little better now. He had bright white hair sticking out of his hat the framed his face perfectly. The brim of his hat didn’t obstruct a majority of his face anymore, however a pair of round sunglasses still hid his eyes even though it was nighttime. He had a small smile that looked to be more mischievous than anything. His long fingers traced the handle of his gun that was resting at his hip, ready for use at any moment. Before he gets too close though, he stops a various feet away from you three.

Satoru looks over his sunglasses to look at you now. He could see how scared you were in this moment, the tears rolling down your cheeks and the way your breathing is very heavy. Looking away from you, he looks towards the two men that currently have hands on you.

“Why don’t we let the lady back on her way home and move on our ways hm?” Satoru questions the two men, his grip tightening on the handle of his gun. Suguru decides to let go and head towards the Satoru, leaving you in Mahitos grabby hands. You squirm as much as you can before his grasp around your arms is lock tight. Suguru meets Satoru in the middle of the ally, only a few feet distancing the two.

You could feel the tension radiating from the two, clearly having known each other and things were not well between them. You can see Sugurus hand also fall onto the handle of his gun once he stops in front of Satoru.

“I don’t think I want to Satoru.” Suguru whispered to him but loud enough for you and Mahito to hear.

Before anymore words are shared, hell breaks loose.

Satoru draws his revolver out of his holster and shoots at the wall by you and Mahito, making Mahito drop his grasp on you and dodge away. With this new freedom, you bolt as fast as you can trying not to get caught in gunfire. You hide yourself behind an array of boxes that had been sitting next to one of the buildings.

Peaking your head above the boxes, you could see the battle between the three men clearly. You could see an array of fist and shooting going on. All of them looked very skilled, but Satoru looked to be pulling through better than the other two men.

Before you could speak too soon though, a solid punch made its way across Satorus face, knocking him a little unstable. You were worried for a second, but clearly that moment did bother Satoru. Showing little to no issue, Satoru eventually got the two men on there knees on the ground, two guns pointing at both of them, their hands up in surrender. Next thing you know, Satoru is calling out to you.

“Hey sweatheart, you wanna do me a favor and tie up these fellas here?” Satoru asks you sweetly over his shoulder. Dusting your skirts off, you quickly stand up and make your way over to him.

“Theres some rope and a knife on my belt honey, just move the jacket out the way.” He tells you, guns still trained on Suguru and Mahito. Moving around and ducking under Satorus gun raised arms and stopping in front of him.

Moving His jacket away from around his waist, you see the rope tied around the side of his belt along with the knife in a sleeve of its own. Untying the rope from the brown leather, you grab it and stand in front of it him waiting for instructions. Satoru looks down at you and smiles.

“Thank you darling. Now, can you please tie their wrist together pretty please?” He asks you sweetly. Nodding your head, still too nervous to say anything, you duck back under Satorus arm and go behind Mahito first. You grab his wrist that were in the hair and place them behind his back. You hold the knife against the rope and carefully cut it and tighten as tight as possible.

“Damn pretty, loosen up a little won’tcha” Mahito smirks at you over his shoulder. Not wanting to hear his shit, you tighten the rope even tighter. You look up at Satoru and he’s chuckling down at you. You give a small smile back at him and move Suguru. You also grab onto his hands and start to tie his wrist as well.

“You know one day I’m going to get back at you for all of this Satoru.” Suguru tells Satoru as you finish up tying the rope around his wrist. Satoru chuckles and lowers his guns once you’re finished and stand up, dusting off your skirts.

“Yeah we’ll see about that.” Satoru replies back to him, holstering his two guns. Ignoring the other two men, Satoru makes his way to you. Once in front of you he grabs onto your side.

“You alright darling?” He asks you, caressing the side of your corset’d waist.

“Yes, thank you very much sir.” You replied back to him. He lets out a breathy laugh, removing his coat and placing it around your shoulders. You. could now see his long sleeve shirt with the black vest clearly now. Along with a chain that hung on his neck and disappears below his collar. Before you could stare too much though, you focus back on his face.

“No need for the formalities miss, the names Satoru.” He tells you, making the jacket is secure around your shoulders before letting go of it.

“Oh ok, well thank you Satoru.” You tell him, pulling the jacket close around you. You could feel the warmth left from Satoru on the jacket still, along with the smell of smoke and sweat. Before you could put much thought into the jacket though, Satoru was speaking down at you again.

“Why don’t we get you home now, that sound good?” Satoru asks with a tilt of his had.

“I’d like that please.”

—————————————

Reaching the top of the stairs and stopping at the door to your apartment, you stop and turn around to face Satoru.

“Um, thank you for everything.” You try and tell him, your voice quiet. Satoru has thumbs resting in his front belt loops looking down at you.

“It’s no problem little lady, couldn’t leave someone as beautiful as you so helpless out there.” He smirks down at you. You could feel your face heat up from the compliment.

“Well, goodnight Satoru.” You tell the tall gorgeous man.

“Goodnight miss.” He responds to you, turning away to start heading down the stairs. Before you could rationally think about the words that had left your mouth, you spoke out after him.

“Um, would want to come inside for a drink? I can’t let my saviour leave without a reward of some kind.” You speak out to the white haired man. He slowly turns around and walks back to you.

“I’d love that sweatheart.” He tells you, waiting for you to open the door.

You turn around and unlock your door, pushing it open to let the two of you inside. Satoru took in your place the moment his feet pass the threshold of the door.

Your apartment wasn’t filled with much. You had a small kitchen, just enough to cook yourself basic meals. You had a small table that barely was big enough to fit a plate and utensils for when you did eat, a small wooden chair accompany it. Across the room you have your bed pushed against the wall, that also looks to fit just you and your pillow and blanket. One last little piece was the small chair and bookshelf in the corner that held a few books and a small candelabrum that had a half melted candle on it.

“I know theres not much space, you can sit at the table if you’d like, while i prepare you a drink.” You tell Satoru, motioning towards your small dining table. He gives a little nod and walks himself to the table, scooting the chair out and sitting down. You move over to the cabinets, grabbing a glass and some old whiskey you had for special occasions. You sat the glass in front of Satoru at the table and poured the whiskey in. Satoru still said nothing, quietly watching you pour him the drink. Once you finished, you put the whiskey back in the cabinet and stood next the table watching Satoru. The two of you stared at each other before you looked away, breaking the eye contact, This caused Satoru to chuckle a little before grabbing the glass and taste a bit of the whiskey but not drinking the whole thing.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me miss.” Satoru says faintly, looking at the side of your face since you still couldn’t make eye contact with him. This made you a little aprhensive, but you weren’t scared of him though, so you told him that.

“I wouldn’t have invited you in if i was scared.” You quip back at him softly. This made Satoru chuckle, taking another sip of the whiskey.

“Oh ok, sweetheart. Well I would hate to leave you standing in your own home.” He says, grabbing onto your wrist and rubbing his thumb over your pulse-point. You’re sure he can feel how fast your pulse is and guessing by the way you gasp when he pulls you closer to him, it gets even faster.

“But theres no other places to sit.” You whisper down at him. Due to his height he was still pretty tall even sitting, but you towered over him slightly. He smirks up at you, knowing what he was about to do would surely make your question dwindle within seconds. And oh was he right.

Next thing you know you’re being pulled into his lap. You have no choice but to straddle his thighs, causing your skirt to bunch up around your waist. You could now feel the rough material of his jeans agaisnt your thighs. Your face was heating up immediatly, quickly feeling how hot the air around the two of you was turning even if it was the dead of winter. Satoru was now the one looking down at you in his lap, his arms now locked around your waist holding you to himself. The two of your faces were mere inches from each other now, you could slightly smell the whiskey coming off of Satorus breath once he started speaking.

“As much as I would love to drink this rest of this whiskey as a thanks from you, I think I have a better way of getting a thanks from a gorgeous lady like you.”

“What-“

Before you could even finish lips were crashing into you. You were shocked at first but within second you were melting into the kiss. You could feel Satoru squeeze your body even closer to him the as soon as you started kissing him back. You felt the swipe of a tongue asking for entrance into your mouth. You felt Satoru move a hand down to your ass and squeeze, causing you to gasp and let his tongue into your mouth. This had you melting into him even more, your arms were wrapped around his neck trying to get even closer to him as his tongue roamed the roof your mouth.

You could feel yourself start to roll your hips against his, feeling the hardness that was starting to form against you. Satorus kisses start to move away from your lips and down the side of your neck, his hand starting to roam now. One hand was still squeezing every few seconds, but the other graviated towards you breast. Giving a small squeeze you let out a breathy moan into the air. You feel Satoru smirk against the skin on your neck.

Without much warning though, Satoru stood, picking you up and walking.

This shocked you and you quickly wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms squeezed tighter around his neck. You look to where he was taking the two of you. You noticed that he was walking in the direction of your bed and before you know it, you’re flopping against the old mattress. Satoru stood over your flusterd self, taking in your beauty. After a moment of silence and gazing you speak to him.

“I-I haven’t been bedded before.” You stutter up at the gorgeous man at the foot of your bed. He takes off his hat and sunglasses that he was still wearing, setting them on edge of the bed and leaned down over you.

“That doesn’t matter at all sweetheart, you tell me at any point you want to stop. You decide how far we go, ok?” He whispers to you, fanning stray hairs out of your face. Not able to form anymore words you nod at him biting your lip. Taking notice of your lips again, Satoru captures you in another kiss.

This time it’s a little slower, but still passionate. You felt him run his hands down your sides before reaching behind you. He started to tug at the string of your corset. Once it was loose enough, Satoru broke the kiss and removed the corset all together. As soon as the corset was off he was back to kissing you, this time down the side of your neck towards the peak of your breast. You could feel him start to leave marks from the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin. This had you moaning out and grabbing onto his hair, tugging slightly.

Satorus hand dropped down to the top of your knees, where your dress stopped. You felt him grab the fabric and start bunching it up. Once it was past your waist you could tell he was wanting it off completely. Sitting up slightly you raised your arms to get rid of the dress. The moment the dress was off you wrapped your arms around your now exposed breast. Now you were almost completely nude save for your underwear, whereas Satoru was still his shirt and jeans. Feeling you starting to get nervous, he grabbed onto your face.

“Theres nothing to be worried about sweetheart, I’ve got you.” He spoke softy kissing the top of your forehead.

To make you feel better, Satoru started to lose some of his own clothes. You watched as he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his perfect looking chest. You could’ve guessed he was fit under those layers but you didn’t expect him to look like some greek god. Once shirt fully unbuttoned, he removed it completely, tossing it somewhere in the room. You did have much time to look though because then he was gently pushing you back down on the bed.

Satoru moved your hands and put then above your head, continuing his kisses on the top of your breast. It only took him seconds to get to one of your nipples. He started to gently suck on it, nipping at it every couple of licks. Moving both of your wrist into one of his hands, the other hand started to grope at your other breast, pinching at your other nipple.

This made you throw your head back and arch your back, pressing your chest even more into Satorus face and hand. He could tell you were enjoying it and started to get a little more harder with his pinching and sucking. This had you moaning even louder, and the throbbing between your legs almost painful.

Not wanting to spend too long on your chest, Satoru start to move down. His kisses reach your stomach and eventually down at the top of your underwear. He had moved his hands as well, now grabbing around the sides of your thighs, spreading them. This motion had you coming to your senses a little, causing you clench your legs together.

“It’s alright sweetheart, just wanna see you fully.” Satoru whispers up to giving a small kiss on your left thigh. Trusting him, you open up your legs to him.

Slowly reaching up to the waistband of your underwear, he slowly pulls them down your legs, exposing your cunt to the cold air. You bit your lip and looked away, embarresed that Satoru might be disgusted at what he was seeing now. You knew that hair was normal but it was slowly starting to become a trend to not have any, or have very little. But with your schedule of working you didn’t have time to worry about that. Now though, you did worry about it.

Satoru could tell you were anxious about how he would react to your now exposed cunt, but he didn’t want you to be nervous, he wanted you to feel relaxed.

Without saying anything, he took his fingers and started to rub up along your lips. This made you look down at him, wondering why he wasn’t saying and just staring at your exposed cunt. However, before you could think anything else, his fingers moved up slightly and rub small circles. This makes you twitch a little and spread your legs a little more.

“There we go sweetheart.” Satoru smiled up at you, noticing the pleasure that you’re starting to feel. He continued to rub the small circles on your clit but now taking his other hand spredding you lips apart. Satoru gathered up the slick that was starting to drip down from your hole, rubbing around it almost teasingly. This made you whine a little and move your hips towards his fingers. He chuckled but listened to your whines.

He slowly dipped an index finger of his left hand into your waiting hole. He could feel you squeezing immediately, pulsing around his finger. He looked up at you finally, seeing your face contort in pleasure. The moans you were letting out sounded angelic to him, urging him to do more. And so he did.

He sped up his circles on your clits and added a second finger in your cunt, thrusting in and out. Reaching his head forward, he started to give gentle kisses along the crease of your thigh and pelvis, nipping at it slightly. He could feel you squeezing on his fingers, he even felt you move your hips to match his thrusts.

Satoru could tell you were reaching your climax quickly, so he sped up his thrust. It didn’t take much longer after that for you through your head back against your pillow and let out a loud moan that you’re sure even your neighbors could hear. After a few moments and gasp later, you lift your head up and peer down at Satoru between your legs. And oh is the sight before you something that makes you clench around nothing now.

Satoru is lying there looking up at you with his fingers in his mouth, licking off your cum. He has a smirk that adorns his face that makes him look even more handsome that you could think of. This all had your face heating up and looking away from him. Satoru pushes himself up and gets to his knees between your legs. You watch as he starts to undo the buckle on his pants and bring it out the loops. He tosses the belt elsewhere, just like his shirt, and starts to unbutton his jeans.

You could see how hard he was below his jeans but nothing could’ve prepared you for when he pushes his jeans below his cock. You now had a clear view of his cock, as it was standing there clear as day. His cock was not too long but definitely something to make you gulp. It also has girth to it that made you wonder if you could even fit your hand around it. Satoru could feel you get more nervous as you stared at his cock silently.

“It’s alright pretty, we’ll go as slow as needed.” Satoru reasures you, climbing back over you.

He leans over you putting a hand next to your head, his face now parallel to yours. You look up at him as he locks eyes with you. With his other hand he grabs his cock and aligns himself at your entrance. The second he starts to push himself in you gasp at the feeling of him entering you. Its not necesarily painful but you can feel it stretching you out by a lot. This has you gasping up him, looking into his eyes. Satoru brushes the hair out your face, and kisses down your forehead.

“Its ok, it’ll feel good in a second. I promise sweetheart. Just tell me when to move.” He tells you once he’s fully pushed inside of you.

You sit there for a moment, trying your best to get used to Satorus size. After a minute you tell him he can move and he does. The first few thrust are still a little uncomfortable but then its starts to turn to pleasure. You let out moans once Satoru starts to suck on your neck again. You grab around Satoru neck and grab onto the bottom of his scalp, pulling at the hair there. This makes Satoru let out his own moan into your neck. His thrust getting a little deeper.

Satoru drags a hand down the middle of your body to rub at your clit again. You let out a louder moan at the feeling of his touch. The two of you are letting out your fair shares of moans and you’re sure you’ll be hearing complaints from your neighbors, but right now you don’t really care. Satorus thrust start to get a little faster, and you squeeze around him even harder.

Satoru could tell you were getting close by the way your breath was getting faster and the way you were squeezing him. He could tell he was getting close to his own climax as well. He pulled away from your neck and bent down to your chest, putting a nipple in his mouth. You through your head back at this.

“Ah-Satoru please.” You moan out his name, gripping harder at his hair. This makes him groan into your chest, thrust speeding up even more. He pulls away from your chest and kisses you hard. The two of you moan into each others mouths. After a second, Satoru pulls away just enough to speak.

“Please what sweetheart?” He ask you, thrusting hard into you. You moan out, almost unable to say anything but after a second you get out the few words you want to say.

“I wanna come please.” You tell him breathlessly, looking into his eyes with blurry vision. He smiles down at you holding your face in his hands.

“Don’t have to tell me twice pretty.” He mumbles to you before kissing you hard again.

It doesn’t take much more for you to get what you want. Satorus rubbing at your clit and giving you hard and fast thrust and within minutes your cumming all over his cock. Satorus not far behind you either, pulling out of you quickly and giving himself a few tugs and letting himself go all over your stomach. Once he’s done he’s collapsing next to you on the bed in the limited space given. The two of you catch your breath before any words are spoken. Satorus the first to speak.

“You did a good job sweetheart.” Satoru is mumbling into your shoulder, bringing you closer to him, tucking you against his chest. You let yourself lay against his chest, listening to his heartbeat for a second.

“Mm, thank you.” You tell him after a minute. Satoru chuckles at your tired response, kissing the top of your head. With the little energy that was left, Satoru tucked the two of you under the covers of your bed, taking the same position that you two were just in. The two of you lay there listenting to each other breathe, enjoying the quiet. It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself dozing off.

Before you could fully fall asleep though you heard a few faint words.

“Get some sleep pretty, you deserve it.” Satoru mumbles into your hair, slowly following you into the much needed sleep.

—————————

an - omgggggg this took two weeks to do write up (thanks to classes being an overload). This is the longest piece i’ve ever written so i hope you all love i! Depending on how this is received i miiiight do a part two, we’ll just have to see :))

thank you very much to my friend who decided to edit this with me, i would’ve posted this way more shittier if i didn’t have my friend (tbh its still probably a bit shitty) so thank you and ilysm.

#gojo satoru x reader #cowboygojo #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #geto suguru #mahito #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen manga #gojo smut #jjk season 2 #cowboy au

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liivzen · 20 days

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

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

✧ pairing: nanami kento x sorcerer!reader

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

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

✧ wc: 7,657

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…maybe he spoke too soon.

~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did this feel so much worse?”

~~~

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

Or rather he should have.

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

You got it from here.

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

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

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

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

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

Until they take his body away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No—” and your hand finds his chest.

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

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

~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t—“

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why?”

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kento—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And now, here was the other.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he knew that he was certainly made for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

It was over.

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

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

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

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

And a beach in Malaysia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Itadori,” Mahito says.

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

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

Could he finally stop?

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

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

But he couldn’t regret it now.

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

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

It was you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—“

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

“It’s not—“

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

“It’s really not that bad—”

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

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

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

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

Always.

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

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

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