right so if you spam like my posts and interact with my mdni/explicit works while literally having âminorâ in your bio youâre getting blocked! i really donât know what else to tell you.
this is a reminder for everyone that sees my posts and interacts with my blog! please respect my boundaries and donât make things weird.
summary: more dumb texts .. normally nonchalance is unacceptable but i'll make an exception for fratkuna!!!!!!
warnings: fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns, names like girl/girlfriend, etc.), actual overuse of exclamation marks do NOT take a shot everytime they're used or you will DIE, cursing?, mention of emotionally unavailable suguru (mommy i'm scared.......)
a/n: hi did you miss me? i'm back take these PLEASE TAKE THEM AAAAAA PLEASE IM SCARED
art creds: 1 (couldn't find the artist's tag so i linked the pin)
summary: more dumb texts .. normally nonchalance is unacceptable but i'll make an exception for fratkuna!!!!!!
warnings: fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns, names like girl/girlfriend, etc.), actual overuse of exclamation marks do NOT take a shot everytime they're used or you will DIE, cursing?, mention of emotionally unavailable suguru (mommy i'm scared.......)
a/n: hi did you miss me? i'm back take these PLEASE TAKE THEM AAAAAA PLEASE IM SCARED
art creds: 1 (couldn't find the artist's tag so i linked the pin)
summary: dumb texts that i wrote bc the pickleball msg did actually come to me in a dream
warnings: fem!reader (names like mama, wife, etc.), sexual humor, mean gf behavior (but they love each other itâs okay sheâs a tsundere), idk cursing?, maybe toxic behavior? they're both just weirdos tbh
a/n: idk just enjoy this or donât these r stupid anyway.. just wanted to put smth out there for yall to munch on
summary: nanami's heart aches for the boy he's come to love. (inspired by this pinterest post. idk ok it just made me emotional)
warnings: none rly, very minor angst
wc: 1.1k
a/n: nanami comfort fans I CALL UPON YOU!!!!!! RISE!!!!!!!!!!!!
something is wrong. the air is tense and uncomfortable; it closes in on your neck like a fitted shirt that's a few sizes too tight. kento sits across from you at your dining room tableâhe's here physically, but his mind is miles away. the deep, contemplative furrow in his brow tells you that much. watching him mull over thought after thought almost gives you a migraine, but you don't pry.
in all your years of knowing him, you have come to realize that nanami kento is not a puzzle box; he is not something you can work at time and time again, nor is he something that can be torn apart with brute force. instead, nanami very much resembles the silken button-downs he dons every morning. he is polished, borderline untouchable on the surface, but you have managed to unfasten him. the formal silk falls away, and what you're left with is kento. your kentoâsoft, warm, unyieldingly caring. so, you don't pry. no matter how heavy the atmosphere gets or how severe the crinkle of his brow becomes, you wait for him.
"he's just a boy," kento murmurs, not speaking to anyone in particular.
sukuna's vessel. itadori yuji. a boy from miyagi prefecture.
nanami had discussed the matter with you briefly before shelving it, never liking to talk shop while relaxing at home. admittedly, despite being a sorcerer yourself, you don't know much about it. because numbers have been so low, you have been operating in a different regionâfukushima, to be specfic. the internal happenings of the jujutsu world have not been much of your concern lately. nevertheless, when the nanami household's work-life balance is threatened, the problem becomes glaringly apparent.
"why don't you tell me about him?" you ask.
"well ... he's a sloppy, reckless combatant with enough power and potential to rivalâ"
"no, kento," you interrupt, "tell me about him. you said he's just a boy, so who is he?"
nanami stops to think for a moment, but the longer he spends in his head, the lighter he appears. his cheeks look fuller, his face releases all of that tension, and the inkling of a smile causes his mouth to twitch.
"he's silly."
"he's silly?"
"yes. he's silly," nanami answers. "itadori never stops talking. he's always asking me about what i like to do, where i go on my days offâhe even knows which bakery i frequent ... on top of all the questions, he somehow has an inventory of half-cocked impressions ready at all times. though, his forrest gump is actually quite good. it really makes me wonder how many movies he had to suffer through while training with satoru."
you laugh, "satoru's still putting those poor kids through the movie routine?"
"he claims it's the most efficient way to practice controlling one's cursed energy."
"is that so?" you snort, "wellâkeep going. less satoru, more itadori."
"the boy loves to eat. rice, eggs, noodles, whatever you put in front of him."
"he did eat sukuna's finger, didn't he?"
"i suppose," nanami chuckles, taking a sip of his tea. "but, he always orders the cheapest item on the menu, even when i'm treating him. he never wants to impose, and he's always looking out for others at his own expense. his heart is one of the purest i've ever come across. itadori is so sensitive and tender, and iâ" kento has to pause for a few seconds to collect himself. the sudden shine of tears welling up at his waterline catches you both off guard. "i never thought i would feel this much for him."
you sigh, thumbing at the corners of his eyes, "oh, kento."
nanami closes his eyes and leans into your touch. grief is no stranger to a jujutsu sorcerer, and your husband is not an exception. many a friend, many a comrade, many a human life has been stolen before his eyes. so much so that he mourns preemptively now, living in a constant state of grieving, a never-ending wake. he tries to leave it all behind. when the clock strikes six, nanami sheds his suit of armor and lets it fall away, listening to it clatter on the ground as he seeks a gentleness only you can provide.
but, itadori yuji has managed to slip through the cracks.
"he's too young ..." kento speaks around the lump in his throat, "âtoo good."
because kento nanami is not mourning itadori's death.
"he doesn't deserve what's waiting for him."
nanami kento is mourning the life itadori will not get to live.
they come in flashesâall the opportunities the boy will miss. the weight of a diploma held between overworked hands and the sense of accomplishment that comes with it; the state of bliss that overwhelms the body when sleeping in on a day off; the feeling of falling in love and the freedom of choosing to spend the rest of one's life with that person. these experiences have been stripped away from itadori yuji, all because of a choice he was forced to make.
"if he wasn't a jujutsu sorcerer ..." kento has given way to his sorrow, his sympathy, his pity. the tears flow freely from his reddened, bloodshot eyes, and he grinds the heels of his palms against the unruly organs. you walk around the table to meet him where he's sitting; wrapping your arms around his crumpled, shaking shoulders, you embrace his sadness. "if he wasn't a jujutsu sorcerer, he would've wanted to be a firefighter."
"what a silly kid," you hum, "'wanting to save people in any way he can."
nanami laughs. the sound is weak and watered down as he continues to cry.
"kento. look at me, kento. you know what this means, right?" you say, waiting for him to shift his gaze towards yours. "you couldn't stop itadori even if you tried."
"i know." i know it too well is what you know he wants to say, but he refrains, retreating into your hold.
"then, help him, kento. try your best to save the time he has left. love him, let him act like a kid, protect him." you stroke his hollow cheeks and press a soft kiss to the crown of his head, "treat itadori like the child we gave up all those years ago when we made the same choice he did."
"i want to," he confesses.
"i know you will."
kento says nothing after that.
having been unbuttoned completely, his soul is shivering, and he feels weak from all the emotion that has spilled out of him. nanami exhales, shaky and entirely unravelled, folding further into your body. he presses his face into the crook of your neck, and you welcome him with the gentle glide of your fingers through his hair.
eventually, the tea on the table goes cold.
and as the evening passes, nanami kento spends hours in the solace of your warmth, letting himself imagine another lifetime in which itadori yuji is free. instead of a hard mattress in a curse-ridden tokyo, perhaps in a different life, itadori yuji will be able to lie on a soft bed of sand and enjoy the warm, malaysian sun alongside him.
summary: dumb texts that i wrote bc the pickleball msg did actually come to me in a dream
warnings: fem!reader (names like mama, wife, etc.), sexual humor, mean gf behavior (but they love each other itâs okay sheâs a tsundere), idk cursing?, maybe toxic behavior? they're both just weirdos tbh
a/n: idk just enjoy this or donât these r stupid anyway.. just wanted to put smth out there for yall to munch on
summary: nanami's heart aches for the boy he's come to love. (inspired by this pinterest post. idk ok it just made me emotional)
warnings: none rly, very minor angst
wc: 1.1k
a/n: nanami comfort fans I CALL UPON YOU!!!!!! RISE!!!!!!!!!!!!
something is wrong. the air is tense and uncomfortable; it closes in on your neck like a fitted shirt that's a few sizes too tight. kento sits across from you at your dining room tableâhe's here physically, but his mind is miles away. the deep, contemplative furrow in his brow tells you that much. watching him mull over thought after thought almost gives you a migraine, but you don't pry.
in all your years of knowing him, you have come to realize that nanami kento is not a puzzle box; he is not something you can work at time and time again, nor is he something that can be torn apart with brute force. instead, nanami very much resembles the silken button-downs he dons every morning. he is polished, borderline untouchable on the surface, but you have managed to unfasten him. the formal silk falls away, and what you're left with is kento. your kentoâsoft, warm, unyieldingly caring. so, you don't pry. no matter how heavy the atmosphere gets or how severe the crinkle of his brow becomes, you wait for him.
"he's just a boy," kento murmurs, not speaking to anyone in particular.
sukuna's vessel. itadori yuji. a boy from miyagi prefecture.
nanami had discussed the matter with you briefly before shelving it, never liking to talk shop while relaxing at home. admittedly, despite being a sorcerer yourself, you don't know much about it. because numbers have been so low, you have been operating in a different regionâfukushima, to be specfic. the internal happenings of the jujutsu world have not been much of your concern lately. nevertheless, when the nanami household's work-life balance is threatened, the problem becomes glaringly apparent.
"why don't you tell me about him?" you ask.
"well ... he's a sloppy, reckless combatant with enough power and potential to rivalâ"
"no, kento," you interrupt, "tell me about him. you said he's just a boy, so who is he?"
nanami stops to think for a moment, but the longer he spends in his head, the lighter he appears. his cheeks look fuller, his face releases all of that tension, and the inkling of a smile causes his mouth to twitch.
"he's silly."
"he's silly?"
"yes. he's silly," nanami answers. "itadori never stops talking. he's always asking me about what i like to do, where i go on my days offâhe even knows which bakery i frequent ... on top of all the questions, he somehow has an inventory of half-cocked impressions ready at all times. though, his forrest gump is actually quite good. it really makes me wonder how many movies he had to suffer through while training with satoru."
you laugh, "satoru's still putting those poor kids through the movie routine?"
"he claims it's the most efficient way to practice controlling one's cursed energy."
"is that so?" you snort, "wellâkeep going. less satoru, more itadori."
"the boy loves to eat. rice, eggs, noodles, whatever you put in front of him."
"he did eat sukuna's finger, didn't he?"
"i suppose," nanami chuckles, taking a sip of his tea. "but, he always orders the cheapest item on the menu, even when i'm treating him. he never wants to impose, and he's always looking out for others at his own expense. his heart is one of the purest i've ever come across. itadori is so sensitive and tender, and iâ" kento has to pause for a few seconds to collect himself. the sudden shine of tears welling up at his waterline catches you both off guard. "i never thought i would feel this much for him."
you sigh, thumbing at the corners of his eyes, "oh, kento."
nanami closes his eyes and leans into your touch. grief is no stranger to a jujutsu sorcerer, and your husband is not an exception. many a friend, many a comrade, many a human life has been stolen before his eyes. so much so that he mourns preemptively now, living in a constant state of grieving, a never-ending wake. he tries to leave it all behind. when the clock strikes six, nanami sheds his suit of armor and lets it fall away, listening to it clatter on the ground as he seeks a gentleness only you can provide.
but, itadori yuji has managed to slip through the cracks.
"he's too young ..." kento speaks around the lump in his throat, "âtoo good."
because kento nanami is not mourning itadori's death.
"he doesn't deserve what's waiting for him."
nanami kento is mourning the life itadori will not get to live.
they come in flashesâall the opportunities the boy will miss. the weight of a diploma held between overworked hands and the sense of accomplishment that comes with it; the state of bliss that overwhelms the body when sleeping in on a day off; the feeling of falling in love and the freedom of choosing to spend the rest of one's life with that person. these experiences have been stripped away from itadori yuji, all because of a choice he was forced to make.
"if he wasn't a jujutsu sorcerer ..." kento has given way to his sorrow, his sympathy, his pity. the tears flow freely from his reddened, bloodshot eyes, and he grinds the heels of his palms against the unruly organs. you walk around the table to meet him where he's sitting; wrapping your arms around his crumpled, shaking shoulders, you embrace his sadness. "if he wasn't a jujutsu sorcerer, he would've wanted to be a firefighter."
"what a silly kid," you hum, "'wanting to save people in any way he can."
nanami laughs. the sound is weak and watered down as he continues to cry.
"kento. look at me, kento. you know what this means, right?" you say, waiting for him to shift his gaze towards yours. "you couldn't stop itadori even if you tried."
"i know." i know it too well is what you know he wants to say, but he refrains, retreating into your hold.
"then, help him, kento. try your best to save the time he has left. love him, let him act like a kid, protect him." you stroke his hollow cheeks and press a soft kiss to the crown of his head, "treat itadori like the child we gave up all those years ago when we made the same choice he did."
"i want to," he confesses.
"i know you will."
kento says nothing after that.
having been unbuttoned completely, his soul is shivering, and he feels weak from all the emotion that has spilled out of him. nanami exhales, shaky and entirely unravelled, folding further into your body. he presses his face into the crook of your neck, and you welcome him with the gentle glide of your fingers through his hair.
eventually, the tea on the table goes cold.
and as the evening passes, nanami kento spends hours in the solace of your warmth, letting himself imagine another lifetime in which itadori yuji is free. instead of a hard mattress in a curse-ridden tokyo, perhaps in a different life, itadori yuji will be able to lie on a soft bed of sand and enjoy the warm, malaysian sun alongside him.
dni: (these r listed on my carrd! but for reference ...) basic dni criteria (racist, homophobic, transphobic), pro-isr*al, antisemitic, yumeshippers, generally disrespectful
i can't control what you do, but if you're a child (i.e., under the age of 16), pls don't interact with me directly. i can't stop you from reading what i write, but i ask that you don't send asks or dms. it's just a bit weird for me!
this blog may contain nsfw content! don't like it, please just block me!
my inbox is always open, but i'm notorious for disappearing. i usually only write when i'm free/inspiration hits, so i can't promise anything (at all). i always want to put my best foot forward, so i have a hard time published what i write for myself already lol ...
do not copy, translate, distribute, or cross-post my works. do not feed them into ai. just don't, weirdo. you wanna read something specific? ask me directly or write it yourself ...
like i said, i'm busy! i have no posting schedule, so keep your expectations low in terms of steady posts.
my works
i try to keep my works as gender neutral as possible, but if they do lean towards being gendered, it will always be fem!reader. i don't feel comfortable writing for male!reader.
i will write smut, but it is extremely rare. you can talk to me abt whatever you'd like, but i tend to enjoy more dom-leaning!reader.
i'm leaning away from using [y/n] in my works, so hope you enjoy heavy second-person writing :p
[stay down + gojo satoru]
MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI! / tw: sub/dom dynamics, slapping [consent is not explicitly given, but it is implied], freakjo + rough reader, implied edging?, punishment?)
a/n: ummmmm hi â|ď˝Oâ˛|â ... this is smth i wrote years ago but i just now have the courage to post it. pls enjoy my first smut endeavor dw more sad, poetic writing coming soon!!!!
rivulets of molten lava stream down satoru's cheeks as he wills himself to be good for the first time this evening. he knew he was playing with fire when he ghosted his hand over the plush skin of your inner thigh, and he knew he was fanning the flames when he pressed a cool finger to your slit under the dinner table; but, satoru has always been a bit of a risk takerâa bit of a challenge. and, you always find the utmost pleasure in knocking him down a few pegs.
ânow, what on earth are you crying for, baby?â you croon, running a viciously gentle knuckle down the length of his wet cheek, âdo you want something from me?â
satoru lurches forward, planting his face in your neck and shaking his head. satoru's always been a bit of a challengeâa bit of a brat, and you know it all too well.
âanswer me,â you sneer, tugging his head backward by a fistful of his pretty, white locks. the smooth expanse of his neck is strained, flesh pulled taut as a whine slips from his mouth. âanswer me nowâor, iâll leave you like this for the rest of the night.â
âwan-hnghâoh, fuck, wanna cum, please.â
satoru's dominant facade has crumbled under the undeniably intoxicating weight of your thighs atop his own; he squirms beneath you, and you find yourself relishing in the way he twitches and jerks. drool threatens to fall from your mouth at the sight of the way his muscles ripple helplessly under his supple, pearlescent skin. itâs almost as though theyâre communicating his desperation to you.
âplease, please, please,â satoru cries, knowing that swallowing his pride will get him further than continuing to act like a petulant mess. âwant it so badâiâll do anything. iâll be good. iâll be good, i promise.â
satoru enjoys the fall. he loves to see that dark glint in your eyes; he would give anything to feel the sting of your tongue as it traces his cupidâs bow. he indulges in the way you grow angrier, and he loves to see the crimson overtake your gaze. his cock is throbbing in your hands; your touch is hot like blue fire, and satoru knows you love it, too.Â
âyouâll be good?â steeping rage is disguised behind the tranquility you attempt to put forth. âmy baby says heâll be good?â
âyes,â satoru pleads. âgood for you. anything forââÂ
you bring an open palm down on his cheek. the blow is hard enough to send his head reeling in the other direction and his mind spinning out into oblivion. the pins and needles under his skin hurt so, so good; satoru licks his lips and looks up at you through those beautiful, tear-heavy white lashes of his. he wants to ask you to do it again and again and again. but he keeps his mouth shut. like a good boy.
you glower at him, eyes sharp and calculated.
âitâs too late for empty promises ...â you murmur, leaning in to press your lips against the shell of his ear. âand, besides, being good is an expectationânothing to be rewarded for, baby. i think my pretty boy just loves to get what he deserves."
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