Ddaenggorll

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nanami laid you down gently on the mattress, his familiar scent crowded you almost immediately as you buried half your face deeper into his pillows, filling your nose with a propinquity that felt like home.

nanami stood close by the bed, gazing at you in a state of unreadiness. his usual slicked back hair was now down and unruly, navy shirt fit him snugly making his arm looked extra delicious, loose pants hanging on his torso. it had been a little late when you called him drunkenly to pick you up, he knew you were on a night out with shoko. 

“ugh, it’s so hot,” you mumbled, reaching out to grab the hem of his shirt; nanami played along with a quiet smile on his face, moving a step closer just so your hand could reach. you pulled, beckoning him to sit on the side of the bed, he obliged easily, brushing away the hair that’s sticking on your face. “it’s warm, take off your shirt,” you blinked at him, as he chuckled softly.

“why should i take off my clothes when you’re the one feeling warm, hm?” he asked with a soothing voice, stroking your hair over and over. 

“global warming, and stuff,” you rambled, giving up in putting sense on your sentence. nanami looked at you with wonder, curious to hear what amusing things will come out of your mouth next.

“i wonder what’s going on inside this head right now,” he said, rubbing his thumb gently at the side of your forehead. you sighed deeply, enjoying his touch. 

“i want a kiss,” you claimed suddenly, proving his point. nanami shot a defeated smile, his eyed narrowed in adoration as he caved, planting a short kiss on your lips; his hair tickling your skin as he leaned down. nanami pulled away before you could savor the feel of his mouth thoroughly. 

spoiler for s2 jjk! and this is js some random fic cus i feel like my writing is gonna rot again if i dont make smth ok bye

#dragpath #nanami

sorry for ooc or inconsistency or grammatical errors… im js bored af

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you miss your husband more and more after every waking day.

kento meant a lot to you— maybe too much, even.

the moment you received the news, you could do nothing but sit on the couch and stare at the whiskey he wasn’t able to finish the night before his departure. denial sinks in like sludge, slowly moving down your shoulders in a manner that felt disgusting. you tried your best to wash it off of your skin, but it seemed like it had tattooed itself onto you. every scrub over your weak arms felt painful, scuffing up your skin till it turned red. no hurt could ever equal to what he probably felt in his last moments.

finding out about his death was fairly quick to sink in; learning to get by without your beloved husband was the most excruciating and slow part.

every morning, he spends at least half an hour just cuddling you, basking in your scent and enjoying your presence before forcibly getting by without it for 8 hours. sometimes, you wake up and enjoy the moment with him too. but on other occasions, you stay sound asleep. your soft snores put him in a trance, delighted that you’re all his. he doesn’t mind though, as long as you’re the first part of his routine, he’s ready to start the day.

waking up nowadays feels like dragging around a ball and chain. your feet feel heavier, every move you make is sluggish, and your head can’t escape the thought of having kento away forever. you try to eat, maybe even drink some water, but it feels like there’s a cork in your throat. nothing can get past the black hole engulfing your appetite everyday.

ever since he left, you’ve never moved the glass of whiskey on your wooden table. all watered down, luke-warm, aromatic. you stare at the cup for hours at a time, barely even noticing that time flies by. you cant bear to pick it up either. it was the last thing your husband had touched before he faded away in the glimpse of an eye.

the night before he left, he mentioned how much he would miss you on his trip. constantly fighting and saving civilians would tire him out, and all he wanted to do was curl up in your arms till both of you fell asleep. you giggle, telling him that his fantasies will come true once he’d finished the job. you assure him, caressing his cheeks before leaning in for a kiss. you let go and he smirks as you fix his hair.

the glass remains unmoved, untouched, unable to be finished by the one who intended to drown out his worries behind the taste of oak and vanilla.

he would usually sit in his designated seat with a book in hand and alcohol on the table. you always found it endearing that kento had such a side to him despite his intimidating demeanor at work. you often wonder if he ever truly had that side to him, or did you bring out that side of him when you two fell in love.

either way, he’s on the other side now, just watching over you and admiring you from above.

kento uses his angelic capabilities to follow you around the house, seeing what you’re up to now that he’s gone. he sees you try to finish a cup of water, though you barely do before you’re coughing up. he winces, knowing that he was the one who constantly motivated you to stay hydrated throughout the day. he watches you rummage through the fridge only to close it in disappointment. he’s hurting seeing his wife in such a dreadful state. you used to love eating, especially with your husband right across from you. now, you cant even finish a plate of food.

one of the things that hurt kento most is when you sat alone at the table, doing whatever you could do just to get by. he imagined how many holidays and birthdays you guys had spent at that old piece of wood. your birthdays, anniversaries, christmases, valentines’. his brows furrowed at the thought of you having to spend those days all alone.

at night, he pats you to sleep, his still soul lays beside his hurting, sobbing wife. he hushes you to slumber, his heart unable to fathom the fact you’re crying by yourself and he can’t come to comfort you. he can only do so much as a ghost— even though he wishes he could do so much more.

it was truly tough trying to settle in yourself that you’d never see the little things your husband used to do for you ever again.

the morning hugs, the compliments about how beautiful you are, the way he covered any sharp corner with his hand when you’d duck under, the assurance that he’s only yours through and through, the smiles in every photo, the constant reminder of how grateful he is to have you for life. but little did he know, he had so little life left.

deep down in his heart, he’s grateful for what had happened to him. not only has he fulfilled his duty as a sorcerer, but his entire being fills with fear as he doubts that you’d still love him if ever he did survive. his burned skin contrasted heavily to his original tone, creating a perfect divide down the middle. he was afraid that if you saw him enter through the front door, you’d take a step back from disgust. you always complimented him, how he’s so handsome and you’re the luckiest in the world. what compliment would you give him now that he’s “ugly”? what kind of person would love a man who looked like him?

this didn’t matter to you though. even if you didn’t know it, the universe had set that in stone for you. you would have loved your husband despite his change in appearance, and you’d even be so proud of how brave he is for fighting against the pain and suffering he faced on the battlefield. you never saw what he looked like before he died, let alone after. all you can do is imagine how hurt he must have been, yet delighted that he was still able to kiss you goodbye before leaving.

you still try your best to get by everyday, your efforts inching closer to an adequate amount to get yourself going. you try your best to remind yourself that that is what kento would want: keep moving and dont be held back by what you cannot change.

be strong and never stop loving yourself for him.

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i hope this tickled ur feathers…

nanami is never ugly to me ☹️ hes the strongest man in the world! i miss him everyday he is gone and i wish he could’ve experienced his beach fantasies even once. long live the blonde king of the jungle

Sketch I made up for the end of Nobamaki week ! The prompt I followed was 'curse killer' au, featuring

CurseKiller! Maki and Jujutsu sorcerer Nobara!

☆  who loves sharing her interests with you. she loves that you're both what others consider "nerdy." there was a time when she thought no one else understood her, until you came into her life. how had she survived without you? perhaps that's why she'd become more attached to you than she should have been.

☆  who always buys little things for both of you. although she doesn't like to admit it, Maki likes knowing you have the other half of some accessory, like sharing keychains of those anime characters you both love, and pretending she doesn't love the idea of ​​it being a kind of couple's match. half of the things she gets in blind boxes always end up in your hands.

☆  who is silently jealous. both of you have lived in a bubble for as long as she can remember, and the idea of ​​you leaving her terrifies her more than she cares to admit. it's not that she genuinely hates other people joining her small group of friends, but she's not stupid; she knows when someone is approaching you with ulterior motives… even though deep down she knows that jealousy isn't just because she's your best friend.

☆  who is afraid that one day you'll simply get tired of her. Maki simply got used to being "the weird one" and knew she could live with it; she could exist in her own space and didn't need anyone else. but that idea fades every time she hears you talking about someone much more sociable or when you tell her about the plans other girls in the class have, plans to which neither of you are clearly invited. why do you need someone else when she's there? she wishes it could always be just the two of you.

jjk x reader smau (satoru, shiu, suguru, choso, sukuna)

The things you will do for some cash... me too twin, the economy is tough 😪

Contains: lots of crack and jokes, suguru runs a legit cult, Tyler catastrophe mention, taking advantage of people with lots of money 🤑

jjk x reader smau! (nanami, shoko and gojo)

They're not letting you take any disrespect from anybody!

Contains: jokes in reference to murder and suicide

jjk mens favourite place to kiss you

sukuna . . . the soft & sensitive dip where your neck meets your shoulder. he has a habit of stalking up behind you when you’re distracted—cooking, reading, or working—and wrapping his massive arms around your waist to anchor you against his chest. he’ll bury his face in your hair first, letting out a deep, rumbling sigh that vibrates right against your spine, before planting heavy, lingering kisses along your collarbone. it’s a slow display of complete affection, a reminder that out of everything in his world, this quiet space with you is the only place he actually wants to be

gojo . . . the very tip of your nose or right between your eyebrows. because of his ridiculous height, he absolutely loves looming over you just to make you look up. he’ll slide his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, give you a bright grin, and lean in to press an exaggeratedly loud kiss right on your face. if you try to swat him away or complain about him ruining your focus, it only encourages him; he’ll just laugh, cup your face in his large hands, and shower your cheeks with quick, bubbly kisses until you’re completely giggling and giving up on whatever you were doing.

toji . . . the crown of your head or your temple. affection with him is always grounded, and deeply comforting, usually happening at the very end of an exhausting day. he’ll sit on the couch and pull you straight into his lap, burying his face into the side of your head while his large arms lock securely around your middle. he doesn't say much, but the way he rests his chin on your hair and leaves soft, slow kisses against your temple speaks volumes. it’s his way of unwinding, letting go of his usual guarded demeanor, and finding a moment of absolute peace with you and only you!

nanami . . . the inside of your wrist or the palm of your hand. his style of romance is incredibly classic, deliberate, and respectful. when the two of you are sitting together after dinner, winding down from a long day, he’ll quietly reach over and take your hand in his. his thumb will trace the back of your knuckles for a moment before he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss right against your pulse point. it’s a deeply grounding gesture that feels incredibly intimate, because he dosen't need grand actions to show his love for you.

geto . . . the corner of your mouth or along your jawline. he is extremely attentive and tender, always making sure to fully connect with you before he even leans in. he’ll gently slide his fingers through your hair, tucking a stray strand behind your ear while looking down at you with a soft, adoring smile. his kisses are always slow and warm, lingering right at the edge of your lips as if he's trying to memorize the exact feeling of the moment. it carries a beautiful & quite intensity that instantly makes you feel like the center of his entire universe.

higuruma . . . your forehead or the space right beside your eye. because his mind is constantly running a mile a minute with legal cases and heavy thoughts, being with you is his only true escape. he’ll come home, loosen his tie with a weary sigh, and immediately seek you out. he likes to cup your face gently, closing his eyes as he presses a long, deeply affectionate kiss to your forehead. it feels incredibly reverent—like a silent thank you for being his calm in the storm, a safe harbor where he can finally turn off his brain and just exist in your warmth.

⊹ Kento Nanami carries himself with the quiet composure of a man who has long since stopped expecting kindness from the world, yet still chooses to offer it whenever he can. Every movement is deliberate, every word measured, as though he has carefully weighed the value of his time and refuses to waste either his own or anyone else's.

⊹ His presence is steady rather than overwhelming. Dressed impeccably, with his signature suit pressed to perfection and his tie always in place, he projects an air of professionalism that borders on intimidating. Yet beneath the sharp edges of his appearance lies a profound sense of responsibility. He is the sort of person who will shoulder burdens without complaint, not because he enjoys sacrifice, but because he believes someone has to do it.

⊹ He rarely displays his emotions openly. Instead, they reveal themselves in fleeting moments—a slight softening of his gaze, a protective gesture made without fanfare, the subtle patience he extends to those under his care. While others speak passionately of ideals and dreams, he grounds himself in practicality, finding meaning in doing what is right even when no reward awaits him.

⊹ There is a quiet exhaustion about him, the weariness of someone who has seen too much and expected little in return. Yet that exhaustion never hardens into cruelty. If anything, it deepens his compassion. He understands suffering intimately, which is why he refuses to ignore it when he encounters it in others.

⊹ Those who know him well come to realize that his strength does not lie solely in his abilities, but in his unwavering reliability. In a world filled with chaos and uncertainty, he is a constant—a calm voice amid panic, a steady hand amid turmoil, a reassuring presence that makes others feel safe simply by standing beside them.

⊹ Though he rarely seeks affection or recognition, there is something deeply comforting about him. Like a warm light left burning in an empty room, he offers reassurance without demanding attention, proving that true kindness is often found not in grand declarations, but in the quiet decision to stay when everyone else has already left.

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₊˚. Requests are open😭!!

₊˚.reblogs are much appreciated!!!!

You reached him just as another curse lunged. With trembling hands, you pulled him behind the crumbling remains of a wall, throwing up what little defense you had left to buy the two of you a few precious seconds. "Megumi," you whispered, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to steady it. His eyes fluttered open at the sound. "You're okay," he muttered, as though reassuring himself more than you. You laughed—a small, broken sound that dissolved into tears almost immediately. "Don't lie to me," you whispered. "You're bleeding." He glanced down at the crimson spreading across his uniform, then back at you. "...You're crying." It sounded almost surprised, as though the thought had never crossed his mind that someone might cry for him."I don't care," you answered, the words escaping before you could stop them. Your hands pressed desperately against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding despite knowing it wasn't enough. "Just stay awake. Please... please stay awake." Megumi watched you through heavy eyelids. You looked terrified. Not frightened of the curses still surrounding you or the possibility that neither of you would make it home. Terrified of losing him. It settled over him with a painful sort of clarity. Through all the noise, all the fear, all he could think about was how much he hated seeing you like this. Slowly, with what little strength remained, he lifted a shaking hand and rested it against yours. "I'm... trying," he murmured, his voice barely louder than the wind.

The reinforcements arrived before either of you realized they had. Someone pulled you back while others rushed to Megumi's side, voices blurring together into something distant and incomprehensible. You fought against their grip at first, reaching for him again and again until one of them assured you he was still breathing. Even then, you refused to leave. You sat beside the stretcher all the way back, your fingers wrapped tightly around his, whispering his name whenever his breathing faltered. Every time his grip weakened, yours only tightened, as though you could anchor him to the world through sheer determination alone.

Days later, when Megumi finally opened his eyes in the infirmary, the first thing he saw was you asleep beside his bed, your head resting on folded arms, exhaustion written across every feature. Tear tracks still faintly marked your cheeks. For a long moment, he simply watched you, remembering the desperation in your voice as you begged him to stay alive. He had never thought much about what his death would mean. It had always seemed like a consequence he had quietly accepted. But seeing you there—still refusing to leave even after the danger had passed—made something inside him shift. Without waking you, he reached out and gently slipped his hand into yours. This time, when your fingers instinctively curled around his, he held on just as tightly. He wasn't sure what the future would bring after Shibuya. He only knew he wanted to be alive long enough to see you smile again.

JJK men texting you after you die on a mission

Summary You and the jjk men got into an argument before you went on a mission but you never came back...

Header made by me (I know it’s big but I got irritated at it after like an hour of trying to make it smaller😭)

Divider creds to @cursed-carmine

A.N: I'm so sorry for this one, my dears💔

Also creds to @suganoms for Nanami and Sugus names😂

Too little, too late — Megumi Fushiguro

pairing: photography major!Megumi x reader synopsis: after a disastrous "meetcute", you force yourself into your grumpy crush's life and eventually confess your feelings to him... cw: angst, cussing, unrequited love, megumi's really mean, self-deprecating thoughts, self-sabotage, grumpy x sunshine wc: 3k art creds: @/semapathy on twitter Megumi masterlist collection masterlist

Frustration. That’s all Megumi felt anymore. 

Anger and disdain towards himself for failing to change, for being stuck the way he was. An arrogant and selfish asshole, destined to end up alone by his own fault and flaws. 

You were the exact opposite. You were the special person his mom told him about growing up. The one who’d be different from the others. The one who’d make him want to change, who’d make him want to be better. He realized that now.

She’d told him it was very important for him not to let that special person go. To keep them close and cherish them.

But now, not only had he let you go, he’d pushed you away himself. 

It had been weeks since his royal fuck-up, yet he couldn’t stop rewinding the clock back to when it all started.

The afternoon sun, the soft breeze, the deserted small road facing a flower shop. It was on that fateful evening that you’d met Megumi. 

kento has always been known for his unshakable calm and careful composure: voice always measured, his posture deliberate, his expressions almost frustratingly controlled in the way only he could manage.

so when everyone ( i mean everyone ) but you noticed the stutter that crept into his speech whenever you were near, he didn’t hear the end of it.

it started small — a pause here, a faltering syllable there — barely noticeable unless you were paying suuuper close attention.

he just couldn’t help himself. you were beautiful. alluring in a way that made it difficult to look directly at you for too long. he loved absolutely everything about you that it made his brain go all fuzzy.

the warmth of your smile, the joyful sound of your laughter, the way you always kept a stash of sweet treats tucked somewhere for later — your own little secret between you and him.

your kindness was always so steady and natural, the sort of kindness that showed up everyday in the way you spoke to people you cared about and how you looked after your students with quiet care and utter adoration.

so, nanami finally worked up the courage to ask you out.

he had texted first, fingers hovering over the screen longer than he cared to admit.

nanamin : Is it alright if I come by later? There’s something I’d like to discuss.

your response came instantly, as per usual.

you : ofc ken! ^_^

always with those little kaomojis, combined with the cute little nicknames you always gave him.. it made his chest tighten in the most way obnoxious possible. he didn't know what to do with himself when it came to you, you were just too cute :(

nanami was never one for surprises, never impulsive, never reckless with his decisions or one for grand gestures.

so imagine your surprise when what was supposed to be a small visit turned into him standing at your front door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. fresh, carefully wrapped, tied with a pink ribbon, and very much alive despite his stiff grip.

“uh.. nanami…?” you could feel your cheeks warming already, your heart giving a traitorous jump in your chest.

“hi. y-you look... ah— nice..” despite your appearance radiating 'i'm done for the day.'

he cleared his throat, shoulders straightening, brain going a mile a minute. “i— i wanted to ask you something.”

he taked a deep breath, his brows knit together in frustration so cute.

“i’ve been meaning to say that i— well, you see—”

his words jumbled up together: feeling like a school girl with a crush. a giant idiot if you will. a faint pink spread over his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

“what i’m trying to say is—”

your hand reached out before he could spiral any further, gently resting against the sleeve of his best cardigan.

you smiled up at him. “ken..” you said softly, “i’d love to go out with you… if that is what you’re trying to suggest of course...”

“yes—!”

nanami cleared his throat, straightening immediately once realizing how loud his voice had gotten involuntarily.

“…yes. that’s what i meant.”

who would’ve thought that nanami kento could fall apart so easily over the smile of a pretty woman?