Kento Nanami - Jealousy

Kento Nanami - Jealousy

Warning(s): none tbh ??

word count : 476

- minors dni

“i thought you didn’t care about me. you barely even look in my direction!” you protested, after learning how you were making him jealous.

you thought he didn’t care for you or what you did with your personal life — given his rather aloof and taciturn nature. so it was an obvious shock to you when he seemed to be on edge about who you’ve been seeing and sleeping with.

“And who said that? who said i didn’t want you? need you?” he suddenly raised his voice, creeping closer to you, obviously vexed.

brows furrowed together in obvious confusion, you were simply left speechless.

being in an arranged marriage with Nanami Kento was far from what you would have expected or imagined. he gave you barely any attention and treated you like a common fly on the wall. whoever said marriage was the greatest step in life must’ve been lying. the frustrating thing was: you found Nanami extremely attractive and hot. not knowing if he felt the same way seemed nearly impossible of a task though. so in false hopes of drowning any thoughts of your stoic husband, you had a shameless habit of bringing home men you had just met with you.

unbeknownst to you, seeing you walking around your shared apartment half naked the next day, so relaxed and comfortable, not caring for the possibility of being caught in a precarious situation made his chest clench up weirdly and a bulge grow in his slacks everyday coming home from work. fists clenching, jaw clenched, and boiling with jealousy, Nanami had enough of this situation between the two of you. he wanted you, so desperately he couldn’t handle it anymore.

“all those times..” he wrapped an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. “all those men… it should’ve been me. and only me.” his voice now weak yet resolute.

his lips clashed with yours, pulling you into a long heated kiss. his long digits desperately teasing and giving short squeezes to your ass, trying to pry your panties off and down your legs.

“What is this?” you questioned softly against his lips, liking how they osculate your neck.

he could only shake his head and pick you up in his arms, untelling. you felt yourself sink into the softness of your mattress and in a blink of an eye, you were stripped of any clothing you might have been wearing, the garments lazily discarded on the bedroom floor along with his own.

“Kento…” you moaned as he squeezed your hips with his rough and calloused hands, his teeth grazing your hardened nipples from want. groaning as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, you felt his shaky breaths gently caressing your ear as he went to align his throbbing tip to your entrance.

“finally…” he whispered lowly, sinking into your warmth.

"...you're my wife?"

satoru gojo wrinkled his nose—out of disgust or confusion, you don't want to know—a little pout forming on his face. you raised an eyebrow at him, reaching forward to tangle his soft white hair between your fingers, feeling yourself getting lost in his beautiful sky eyes.

"yes, I'm your wife," you whisper, melting into his warm embrace. you smile as a muscular arm wraps around you, and a beautiful smile graces his even more beautiful features as he plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"i can't believe it," he murmurs, marveling at how your body fits perfectly against his, grabbing your hand with a gentle grip. you giggled, feeling his grip tighten around you as you ask, "you can't believe what?"

he exhales, slowly, awe entering his voice.

"that you're my wife."

wrapped in warmth

gojo satoru x reader

after a long day, all you want is to collapse into bed and let the world fade away. you’re exhausted, both mentally and physically, and you can feel the weariness clinging to every part of you. you shuffle toward the bed, already thinking about the soft pillows and warm blankets waiting for you. but before you can settle in, you feel a familiar presence behind you.

"hold on," gojo's voice calls out teasingly. "you can’t just get comfortable without me."

you turn to see him standing there, a playful grin on his face as he saunters over. even after everything today, he still manages to look like he’s just stepped out of a magazine—tall, effortlessly charming, and with that signature mischievous glint in his eyes.

"i’m tired," you mumble, crawling into bed anyway. "no teasing tonight, satoru."

he chuckles, sliding in beside you with ease. "no teasing? that’s going to be hard, you know."

before you can even protest, his arms are around you, pulling you close against his chest. the warmth of his body immediately seeps into you, and despite yourself, you relax. gojo holds you like this sometimes, usually after long days where neither of you has much left to give. it’s rare for him to be this still, but in moments like this, you’re grateful for the quiet.

"you’re tense," he murmurs softly, resting his chin on top of your head. his hand comes up to brush through your hair in slow, soothing strokes. "just relax."

you try to stifle a smile, knowing full well he can feel it. his presence is too comforting, too familiar, and no matter how hard you try to stay annoyed, he always manages to pull you out of it.

"i can’t relax with you talking," you tease gently, nestling closer into his chest.

gojo lets out a soft laugh, his breath warm against your skin. "okay, okay, no more talking. but you have to admit, i’m pretty good at this whole cuddling thing."

"mm-hmm," you mumble, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as the exhaustion starts to catch up to you. his fingers continue to thread through your hair, and you let out a small sigh of contentment.

"see?" he whispers, his voice barely above a murmur now. "told you i’d help you relax."

his arms tighten around you just a little, and you feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back. the world outside feels distant, and all you can focus on is the warmth of gojo's body, the gentle rhythm of his breathing, and the safety of being wrapped up in his embrace.

"you’re so warm," you mumble, your voice soft and sleepy. you can barely keep your eyes open now, and the sensation of his hand in your hair is starting to lull you into a peaceful haze.

"that’s because i’m perfect," he replies, the faintest hint of smugness in his tone, but it’s softer than usual, more tender.

"so modest," you whisper back, your words slurring as sleep pulls you under.

gojo chuckles softly, but as you start to drift off, he grows quiet. his hand slows in your hair, and he presses the gentlest of kisses to the top of your head, so light that it almost feels like a dream.

"goodnight," he murmurs, his voice barely audible now, as if he’s speaking more to himself than to you. "i’ve got you."

with those words, the last bit of tension leaves your body, and you sink fully into sleep, surrounded by warmth, comfort, and the quiet assurance that, in gojo’s arms, everything is just a little bit better.

toji body worship with brief sex mentions at the end :) // 480 words // divider by @adornedwithlight

firefighter!toji who’s 20+ years into his career and marred with scars and burns. they litter his muscly body, decorating the expanse of his back and creeping down his limbs like vines. he’s had far too many close calls and accidents to even remember what to attribute any of the burns to, but all he knows is that they’re… there. he doesn’t hate them, he’s too old at this point to give a shit what his body looks like. but he doesn’t quite love them. outside of his crew mates, letting others see them is difficult - namely because that never happens. his crew is his family, and who he spends almost all his time with, save for megumi. honestly? he forgets the blemishes are even there.

but then he meets you, and suddenly he’s hyperaware of them. following your first date, where the two of you really hit it off to his pleasant surprise, he immediately goes home and pulls his shirt off to inspect the burns. after years, fresh pink healing skin had faded to a dullish brown, jagged and irregular. the texture was rough and sinewy - like lightning, a younger megumi had said. it sure as hell felt like it at the time, too. the feeling now in them is sparse, if not gone completely. for the first time in years, toji worries that someone like you might find him… ugly. disfigured. disgusting.

so he’s hesitant to show you them. he always keeps his shirt on, as that’s where the majority of the scarring resides. even the first few times you make love, his shirt remains, and he dances around the possibility of you ever showering together. you don’t push him, as he hasn’t told you outright, but you’ve connected the dots. the man is insecure. and that simply won’t do.

after nearly two months of dating, with gentle hands and syrupy sweet words, you finally coax that damn t-shirt off your lover. and… wow. you gasp, and toji’s face falls.

“no, no!” you immediately bactrack, moving to rest a hand on the warped skin of his chest. “toji, you’re beautiful.” you say it with such conviction that while toji doesn’t believe you, he believes that you mean it.

“well if you say it, sweetheart, it must be true,” he chuckles, resting his own marred hand atop the one still pressed against his chest.

as you make love, you take the time to trace every single burn and scar with your fingers, followed by your lips, worshipping what he once believed to be imperfections. if needed, you promise to spend the rest of your life convincing this man that his beauty rivals that of heaven’s greatest angels. toji will never see what you see, feel what you feel. but soon, the mark left on his soul by you will be stronger and deeper than any wound his body could ever weather.

pornstar!nanami who has a signature style to his videos—all of which are solo content consisting of him, manspreading in front of the camera in an awfully expensive suit. as his hands trace the muscles of his thighs, the seams of his trousers, the outline of his hardened cock.

pornstar!nanami who always takes his time getting to the good stuff, his voice silken as he speaks to those watching him. praise falls from his lips, which are always just out of view—the man doesn't dare show his face. something about professionalism and all.

pornstar!nanami whose videos usually end with him cumming into his closed fist, or into a toy if he's feeling so inclined. as a long time viewer of him, you've come to learn a few things about how he orgasms—he always bucks his hips up, chasing that instinct to breed. he always moans like he's in heat just before his climax, but because he's not great with breathing through his orgasms he chokes up just as he falls over the edge—it's a pretty sound.

pornstar!nanami who sometimes gets messy with it—he's such an organised and ritualistic man in his day-to-day that he sometimes just wants to let loose. sometimes, he'll only pull his cock out of his pants through the fly, and let the world watch as his precum dribbles all over those pressed pants of his. oh and does he go feral knowing that he's dirtying something so expensive with the receipts of his lust. who will stroke himself to completion just to watch his cum stain the fabric he's worked so hard to afford—there's no explaining that away to a drycleaner.

pornstar!nanami who likes to imagine it's a pretty thing riding his thigh that wrecks his trousers. wonders how many of his viewers touch themselves to his videos, hoping the could take him for all he's worth as well.

pornstar!nanami who, after a particularly messy session one day, gets an email after uploading his video. it's not even been ten minutes, which was the length of his video, so he assumes whoever has emailed him came particularly fast to that one.

pornstar!nanami who was more than right in his assumption. because as his eyes rake over the email sent by an adoring fan, he sees about a million different typos that indicate nothing other than messy fingers and a fucked-dumb typist. in your barely legible email, you explain that Mr. Nanamis videos are tagged 'near-you', and you'd happily offer your services as the next sex toy he uses to fuck-and-film in exchange for an orgasm or three.

and oh is pornstar!nanami intrigued. because his life is a busy one, he's a businessman when the sun is up time is precious and human connection is a scheduling conflict—his videos aren't solo out of preference, poor nanami, the pornstar, is a virgin.

pornstar!nanami who, after a few weeks of back and forth and some genuine conversation, ends up with his camera flashing red as you sit naked on his lap. and oh are you happy with the sight of him, blonde and sculpted to perfection underneath those lovely suits of his. Your ass is on display to anyone watching, upper half out of shot as your teeth clash with his.

pornstar!nanami who can't help the sounds he makes when you grind against his clothed cock. your slick, your pooling lust, it smears over the fabric of his pants and leaves a gloss behind in turn. he's ravenous, holding onto your hips and grinding you down against him in all the right ways. who moans into your mouth, already a little pussydrunk and he's barely had a taste of you.

pornstar!nanami who hopes he isn't unseemly in the way he manhandles you to sit properly on his lap. he knows you're as desperate as he is, what with the way you slip your hands down to undo his belt and pull his cock free. your fingers wrapped around his length is enough of a narcotic to cum on the spot, though he steadies his reeling mind and holds out.

pornstar!nanami who offers to fuck you on his fingers first, to use his tongue to warm you up and get you ready for his, frankly overbearing, size. but you're insistent, eager, and lowering yourself onto his aching cock with a kiss to his lips and a sharp inhale shared between you.

pornstar!nanami who thanks whatever god may be out there for letting him film a glimpse of heaven.

pornstar!nanami who can barely keep himself together as you ride him like he's the toy at hand. he's sure he's never been this vocal for his viewers, moaning alone is a feat that is hot at best and hauntingly awkward at worst—this, though—he's never been so mindless. and you love it. all the videos you've watched where his voice is smooth and confident and he's the picture of put-together. having such a man, a gentleman like nanami, absolutely melting with each clench of your dripping pussy around his length? it's an aphrodisiac in itself.

and when you catch onto the fact that pornstar!nanami is about to cum—the bucking of his hips, those drawling moans, the hitch of his breath—you kiss him stupid, and then speak against his pretty swollen lips. 'breathe'

and oh does pornstar!nanami breathe. a desperate droning moan escapes his breath, right into your mouth as he empties himself inside of you like he's trying to give you his last name.

pornstar!nanami who can't help himself. flipping you over and onto your back, pressing you into the mattress as he continues to fuck into you. he's going to pull as many orgasms out of you as he can—it doesn't even register in his mind that, due to the new angle of your bodies, he's just let the world see his face, and the pretty pussy drunk blush that paints it pink.

Hello!! If you’re still taking requests I’d love to see a Nanami x Reader fic where the reader is pregnant but doesn’t realize yet but I’d like showing OBVIOUS symptoms and for Nanami to start to catch on to them, I don’t know if that’s like weird? 😭 Also I hope you’re doing good!!

THIS. IS. EVERYTHING.

Yeah, we're doing this right now

Nanami realizing you're pregnant before you do

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,2k

Synopsis: well, basically the request above hehe

Warnings: I mean, reader is pregnant lol, fluff fluff fluff, Nanami is just the greenest flag I can't, please tell me you enjoy this as much as I do, I LOVE THAT MAN

Lately, everything feels… off.

It's subtle at first. Mornings are harder than they used to be, a strange kind of sluggishness that lingers in your limbs no matter how much coffee you drink after waking up. Your back aches at the most random times. And don't even get started on the nausea that strikes out of nowhere, leaving you clutching the bathroom sink with trembling hands.

But, still, it doesn’t cross your mind - not at first.

Nanami’s been noticing though. He’s always been perceptive, sharp in the way he observes the world, but lately, his focus seems to rest more on you. It starts with the small things: a subtle glance as you push your breakfast away with a grimace, the way his brow furrows when you wince, pressing a hand to your lower back. He doesn’t ask you about it immediately, and you’re grateful for that. Nanami doesn’t rush things, never has. He knows you well enough to wait until the right moment.

Today, however, something is different.

It’s a quiet Saturday morning. You’re both in the kitchen, sunlight streaming through the curtains in soft beams. Nanami’s making coffee, his movements precise as always, while you sit at the kitchen table with your hands wrapped around a cup of ginger tea. You’ve been craving that instead of coffee these days, the rich scent of the brew turning your stomach in a way it never used to. To be honest, you’ve never been a tea drinker your whole life.

He’s noticed that too.

You yawn, stifling the sound behind your hand as you stretch in your chair. There’s a strange heaviness in your body, and the thought of going back to bed, even after a full night’s sleep, is oddly tempting. It’s the third time this week that the idea of a nap has crossed your mind before noon. You blink hard, forcing your eyes to focus, and turn to Nanami, who’s watching you over the rim of his cup.

“Are you feeling alright?” he questions, his tone neutral but his eyes searching.

“Yeah, why?” you respond, but your voice lacks its usual energy.

Even to your own ears, it sounds tired. You clear your throat and offer a small smile, hoping to brush off the question as well as the wave of concern that starts bubbling up your chest all over again.

“I’ve just been a little out of it lately, that’s all.”

Nanami places his cup down on the counter, his gaze never leaving your face.

“You’ve been ‘a little out of it’ for a while now, darling.”

There’s a weight to his words, a quiet concern that has your defenses rising instinctively. You sit up straighter, forcing a more convincing smile this time.

“I’m fine, really. Just tired. It’s probably work.”

It’s true, to some extent. Work has been stressful, the usual demands piling up, but this exhaustion feels… different. It’s deeper, sinking into your bones in a way that no amount of rest seems to fix.

Nanami doesn’t say anything right away, but you can feel him assessing you. His silence is almost louder than words. You know he won’t push you to talk, but his patience, the way he waits for you to come to your own conclusion, can be just as insistent.

You sigh, leaning back in your chair and rubbing at your eyes. There’s no way you’ll get out of this situation, not when your beloved boyfriend sits opposite of you with his calm but demanding orbs staring straight through your soul.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m coming down with something?”

It’s a flimsy excuse, and you both know it. But before you can think of anything else to say, a wave of nausea hits you hard and fast, making you lurch forward. You press a hand to your mouth, eyes wide as the world tilts just slightly. Oh god, not again.

Nanami is at your side in an instant, his hand on your back, warm and grounding.

“Hey, hey… breathe,” he murmurs gently, his thumb rubbing small circles against your spine.

“It’s okay. Just breathe.”

You close your eyes and focus on the rhythm of your breathing, counting each inhale and exhale until the nausea begins to subside. Slowly, you sit back, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. The embarrassment is hot on your face, and you can’t quite meet Nanami’s eyes.

“I’m fine, Kento”, you mutter, though you can tell it sounds unconvincing.

Nanami’s hand is still on your back, his touch firm yet gentle. He doesn’t say anything, not yet. You know he’s waiting, giving you space to figure out what’s going on. But even through your haze of denial, a part of you knows the truth is starting to unravel.

“Does this happen often?”

His voice is calm, but there’s an undercurrent of something more. Something you can’t quite place.

You swallow hard, not sure how to answer.

“It’s just been the past couple of weeks,” you admit quietly.

“I think it’s stress. Maybe some kind of stomach bug?”

Nanami’s brow furrows slightly, and he crouches down beside your chair, his eyes searching your face with that same quiet intensity.

“Are there any other symptoms?”

Your mouth opens to say no, but then you stop, thinking back over the past few weeks. The tiredness, the nausea, the strange sensitivity to smells, your shifting moods - small things you’d brushed off or tried to ignore. But now, all at once, it feels like they’re adding up, slotting together in a way that you hadn’t considered before.

You glance down at your hand, the one resting on your stomach, and something inside you clicks.

Oh.

Oh.

Nanami must notice the shift in your expression because his hand stills on your back.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice low and steady.

You swallow hard, the words catching in your throat before you finally manage to speak.

“I think… I might be pregnant.”

There. You’ve said it. And the weight of those words hangs heavy in the air between you, a truth you hadn’t been ready to acknowledge until now.

Kento doesn’t react immediately. His expression stays calm, though you can see the flicker of something in his eyes - surprise, perhaps, or maybe something more. Did he already suspect this? Is this why he pushed you to think about your symptoms further? Slowly, he straightens up, standing in front of you now as he takes a deep breath.

“Are you sure?”

You shake your head, feeling a little lost.

“I’m not. I… I hadn’t really thought about it until just now.”

The truth is, you hadn’t considered the possibility at all. With everything going on - work, life, the general busyness of existing, it hadn’t crossed your mind that this could be the reason behind everything you’ve been feeling.

But now that it’s out in the open, you can’t help but wonder how you missed the signs.

Nanami’s hand gently cups your chin, tilting your face up so that you’re looking at him. His gaze is steady, calm in a way that grounds you, just like always.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions yet,” he says quietly.

“But if you think there’s a chance…”

You nod, your throat suddenly tight.

“Yeah. There might be.”

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. The air between you feels thick with unspoken emotions, a quiet understanding settling between you. Nanami steps closer, his hand moving from your chin to cup your cheek instead, his thumb brushing against your skin.

“We’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, his voice soft.

“Together.”

The sincerity in his words washes over you, bringing with it a flood of emotions you hadn’t realized you were holding back. You blink, your vision blurring slightly as you reach up to cover his hand with yours.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nanami’s expression softens, and he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I know. But whatever happens, we’ll face it together. I promise” he mutters against your skin.

You nod, your heart swelling with a mix of fear, uncertainty, and something else, something warmer, softer. You aren’t alone in this. No matter what happens, you have your boyfriend by your side, steady and unshakable.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours again.

“Do you want to take a test?” he asks, his voice careful, as if he’s gauging your readiness.

You hesitate, biting your lip.

“I… I don’t know. Maybe? I mean, I guess I should, right?”

Nanami nods, but he doesn’t push.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

The idea of taking a test feels overwhelming, like it would make everything real in a way you’re not sure you’re prepared for. But at the same time, the uncertainty is starting to weigh on you, the not knowing gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you try to gather yourself. When you open them again, Nanami is still there, watching you with that quiet patience you’ve come to rely on so much.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice trembling just a little.

“Okay. I’ll take a test.”

Nanami squeezes your hand gently, a reassuring presence beside you.

“I’ll go get one,” he offers, his tone calm and matter-of-fact, like he’s suggesting something as simple as picking up groceries.

You nod, feeling a little more settled now that a decision has been made.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

He leans down, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back.

“I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he grabs his keys and heads for the door, casting one last glance over his shoulder before he slips out into the hallway.

Once he’s gone, the quiet of the apartment feels almost too loud. You sit there for a long moment, staring at the cup of tea in front of you, your mind racing with thoughts you can’t quite hold onto.

Pregnant. You might be pregnant.

The idea feels too big, too surreal to grasp, and yet it’s there, lingering just at the edge of your awareness. A part of you is scared, terrified of the changes this could bring. But another part, a part you’re only just beginning to acknowledge, feels something else. Hope, maybe? Excitement? It’s hard to tell.

All you know for sure is that everything feels different now, that your whole life will be turned upside down if this test comes out positive.

When Nanami returns a short while later, test in hand, you take it from him with trembling fingers. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a small, reassuring nod as you disappear into the bathroom.

The minutes that follow are some of the longest of your life. You pace back and forth in front of the sink, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for the results. The silence feels deafening, and all you can do is focus on your breathing, trying to keep yourself calm.

Finally, the time is up. You glance down at the test, your breath catching in your throat as you read the result.

Positive.

You stare at it for a long moment, your mind struggling to process what you’re seeing. And then, slowly, the reality starts to sink in.

You’re pregnant.

With shaking hands, you open the bathroom door to find Nanami standing just outside, waiting. He looks up at you, his expression calm but expectant.

“Well?” he asks quietly.

You swallow hard, your voice catching in your throat as you hold up the test.

“It’s positive.”

For a moment, Nanami doesn’t say anything. His eyes flicker to the test in your hand, and then back to your face, his expression unreadable. And then, slowly, he steps forward, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle, grounding embrace.

“We’re going to be okay,” he murmurs against your hair.

“You’re going to be okay.”

And somehow, with his arms around you, you really believe him. Maybe you will be able to work this out. After all, you have none other than Kento Nanami by your side, right?

“Kento…”, you begin, the flood of sniffs and wild emotions now slowly but surely calming down.

“What is it, darling?”

“Did you…did you know?”

He sends a small smile your way while gently stroking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I couldn’t be sure. But after seeing you like this for a couple of weeks now, I had some suspicions”, he admits quietly.

You let out a huff.

“I can’t believe you realized it earlier than I did.”

“You are my life, (y/n). I notice every little thin about you.”

“And now you’ll be the father of a child”, you breathe out.

The words still feel strange while rolling off your tongue. Kento Nanami will be a father – the father of your child.

You are pregnant.

This is real.

“And I couldn’t ask for a better mother for my child.”

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