Living Life At Your Own Pace Isn’t A Waste Of Time

nanami kento carries band aids in his wallet in case they are ever needed (unbeknownst to you) and one day, when you’re grocery shopping, he sees you walk with the slightest limp.

“whats wrong?”

you’ve stopped to pick out some tomatoes. “what do you mean?”

“you’re limping,” he says, hands on the shopping cart. “are you hurt?”

“oh. i’ve got a blister,” you respond nonchalantly, drop a fat tomato into a plastic bag. “but i really like these shoes and i forgot to put a band aid on.”

he kneels, much to your surprise, takes out his wallet and out of the leather, a band aid. he takes your foot out of your shoe, peels down your sock and unwraps the band aid.

he applies it with ease, returns your foot into your shoe gently, stands to his full height.

you’ve got stars in your eyes.

“next time, pick some comfortable shoes, sweetheart.” he plants a kiss on your lips, pushes the cart over to the avocados.

“god, i think i love you, kento.”

a light smile quirks his lips upward, his tired eyes gleam. “i think i love you too.”

“atsumu, when i die —”

“no, stop, don’t say that. ‘ya aren’t going to die.” he interrupted you before you could even finish, his gaze burning.

“of course i won’t, i’m immortal!” you joked. and to this, he flashed a small smile.

“but, hypothetically, if i do die, i want you to make my coffin look cute. maybe LED lights? yeah, and —” you were cut off with your rambling by a kiss to your lips. the two of you savoring the fleeting moment, gripping onto his shirt as you felt yourself weaken from his touch.

“yes, angel, i’ll do that okay? now stop yappin’ about ‘ya dying. ‘ya aren’t goin’ to die. i — i won’t even let ‘ya.” he said with so much determination that you couldn’t help but believe him.

your eyes feel heavy. “‘tsumu?”

“hm?” he looks at you, shimmering eyes.

“i’m tired, i wanna go to sleep.”

“oh — okay, sure — i, i love ‘ya, goodnight. let’s talk again tomorrow, m’kay?” he asked, the hope in his voice felt quite cruel to even exist.

“of course, i love you.”

the beeping from the monitor went to a deafening halt. atsumu felt like he was suffocating, the air in his lungs evaporating. you — the air that filled his lungs, the air he breathes, ceased. the shimmer in his eyes turned into tears.

you two never really did get to properly talk again tomorrow, or the day after that, or ever again.

five times you fell in love with ushijima wakatoshi.

masterlist | sorry this is really long. I just love him sm <3

01. that one day when he walked you home and stayed for dinner. your mother had told ushijima she had never found the neighborhood safe, so he made it a point to walk you back everyday after his practices.

you came upon a startling realization during this time. ushijima was definitely raised like a gentleman. he would never let you walk on the outer side of the sidewalk. anytime you were on the outer side, he'd take a step back and go around you. always.

“thank you for dropping me home, wakatoshi,” you told him. it was a routine for you to say this and for him to reply that you shouldn't thank him for this.

“i am thankful though. especially for you not letting me walk on the outer side,” you explain and ushijima feels like he's been caught off guard. he did do it unintentionally most of the time, yes, but he makes sure of it when he's with you. its also partly because you sometimes get so carried away telling him about your day, he worries you might accidentally stumble on the street and he can't have that.

“you read me well,” he admits, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“well it's because i'm just happy to be graced by the presence of the ace of shiratorizawa,” you joke.

“you think too highly of me, you know that?”

“i don't see why I shouldn't,” you retort. “do you want to come in for dinner?”

you assume he's going to refuse since he has to be home in an hour to study and do his homework. and you know better than anyone that he doesn't take a single day off, no matter what. be it hail, sleet, snow or a tornado, ushijima would never rest.

he takes a minute to think till he replies, “yeah sure.”

you mask your shock well, you open the door and let him in. and you can already feel the butterflies in your stomach. maybe you don't view him as a friend, but something more.

02. when you told him he was boring. it wasn't intentional, no. ushijima is fun but just not without planning out the fun? so when you tell him that you're gonna go out in the rain, he's definitely hesitant to join. you don't force him to join you which he's grateful for.

but when he sees the smile on your face, as raindrops trickle down, he thinks to hell with it. you're awestruck when he does join in, his eyes taped shut, as he lets himself feel each raindrop falling on his skin.

“toshi” you call out, only for his eyes to meet yours, slowly adjusting to the light. you laugh and he thinks he's never heard a better sound.

“i’ve never done this before.t I wouldn't have, if it wasn't for you,” he admits, letting his rigid body go lose.

“don’t go all soft on me big guy,” you retort, a grin on your face.

“i can't help it.”

and you can't help falling in love with him either.

03. when you spent an afternoon in his childhood bedroom. ushijima’s mother had invited the two of you for dinner, telling you to take a look at wakatoshi’s old room.

volleyball and manga posters were lined on the side of his wall, with some of his trophies and pictures with his best friend tendou.

“can’t believe i’m lucky enough to be here,” you joke, a playful smile tugging on your lips.

“can’t believe i’m lucky enough to bring you here,” he responds, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“although I think I should be jealous because from the looks of this bedroom, it feels like you've been dating tendou,” you pointed at the wide array of pictures of the two.

ushijima throws his head back in laughter, “i kept our pictures hidden from mom,” he replies. you knew his mother was a little critical of his choices as a teenager. “wait–” he opened his cupboard and started rummaging through the drawers only to pull out a shoebox.

“this has all of our pictures,” he hands the box to you. you open it, only to find ushijima saving up not only pictures, but movie tickets, little letters you wrote for him, the bracelets you made, the cute doodles you drew on his notebook perfectly cut off alongside birthday cards and a childhood photo that you gave him.

“i never knew you saved all of this stuff,” you whispered. you never took ushijima for the sentimental type, especially not the one to save what you referred to as your ‘romantic garbage.’

“of course I would,” he shrugs. “it might be garbage to you but it meant the world to me and it still does. I save stuff till this day,” he admits.

this man really does catch you off guard, doesn't he?

04. when you were having a difficult time. while he's a world renowned player that definitely has more than enough on his mind given the upcoming championship, all of that becomes irrelevant when he catches you with tears sliding down your face after coming home back early from his practice.

“t–toshi, you're home?” you whisper, quickly trying to wipe the tears of your face. but you've never been a good liar and ushijima can read you with his eyes closed.

“what’s wrong, love?” he asks, immediately cupping your face with his hands, wiping your tears. “is everything okay?”

the dam breaks and he just pulls you into his chest, letting you cry your heart out. he shushes any apologies you cry out. why were you so adamant on thinking that you were a burden to him? burdens are pushed on people against their will and he sure as hell isn't here against his.

and you think, how lucky you are to have wakatoshi around.

05. when you find him drenched from the rain. ushijima was returning from his latest championship and you had already warned him of the thunderstorm ready to rain down on Tokyo. you find him and his suitcase looking as if they've crossed a tsunami on the way to the apartment.

“toshi,” you quickly rush to find a towel to wrap around him. “what happened?” you ask. “did the cab not drop you directly here?”

he smiles sheepishly admitting that he had asked the cab to drop him off fifteen minutes away. when you ask why, he pulls out the flowers and cupcakes he brought from your favorite bakery.

“and I also brought your favorite manga,” he smiles. “i just missed you so much these two months.”

you feel tears well up in your eyes as you hug him, “i missed you too,” you whisper, buried in the crook of his neck. you pull away, “go change quickly now, we can't have our star player being sick. dinner is almost done.”

“i love you, darling,” he says before heading inside.

and just as you thought you couldn't fall in love with ushijima wakatoshi anymore, he manages to prove you wrong.

JJK BOYS + WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I DIED?

[includes] gojo satoru // ryomen sukuna // fushiguro megumi [warning] ment. of implied suic1de (megumi’s part) [notes] i feel like i gave realistic answers?? i did gojo too serious LMAFO

— GOJO SATORU

“‘toru, what would you do if i died?”

your plethora of questions started from boredom, having nothing to do on a humid wednesday afternoon so you decided to randomly interrogate your boyfriend. tiny questions about his favorite color or dessert evolved into meaningful ones that had him quiet for ages, gathering his thoughts to give you a truthful answer. though this one, he didn’t hesitate much answering.

“my place in the jujutsu world wouldn’t let me grieve for long, so i’d probably be forced back to work. but.. i’ll never be the same. i’ll do my job, but the life in me would go.”

you really didn’t know how to react other than stare at him silently, watching the sincerity in his eyes before smiling and lightly shaking your head. “well”—bringing himself up from his position on the couch, he slides down to accompany you on the floor, dragging the blanket down with him for the two of you to share—“you don’t need to worry about that. i’m the strongest after all.”

— RYOMEN SUKUNA

you could see that slowly, your lover was getting irritated by your questions. maybe it wasn’t the best idea to settle down and ask dozens of the most random things that pop up in your head while your boyfriend works, but you knew when to or not tease him and right now seemed like it was an okay time.

“sukuna, what’s your go-to line to say?”

“prepare to die.”

“fair enough. what’s your favorite time of the day?”

“when you’re asleep.”

“hey!” you fake offense at his snapback, maneuvering your way so that your head was on his lap and both of your hands were wrapped around his bicep, squishing the muscle. “sukuna, what if… i died?”

“what type of question is that.”

“just answer it,” you grumble at his nonchalant attitude, not once looking up from whatever paper he was writing.

“you can’t die, i won’t allow it.”

“never mind that! answer the question: what would you do if i died?”

“i would make sure that person or curse will never see the light of day again. i’ll take the roughest form of revenge and give them a slow, painful death.”

maybe you struck a nerve, because when he looked down at you in his lap, you couldn’t really depict the look in his eyes. “like i said, i’ll never allow it.”

“the universe doesn’t need your permission. what if i died in my sleep?”

he ruffled your hair in response, stretching his back before putting his focus on his papers once more. “i don’t like thinking about stuff like this.” and that was his attempt of showing his feelings. you know it’s hard for him to express, and you got the message he was trying to send, so you decided to not push any further, smiling to yourself silly for the rest of the day.

— FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

it was late. way too late to be snuggled next to your boyfriend, your hair tousled from the jump you had to make to sneak in. at this point you would’ve left, but tonight was different. moonlight dripped from the open window, adding an extra layer to the intimate moment you both were having, spilling out your darkest secrets to each other in the confinement of his little dorm room. you fell into comfortable silence, providing solace with touch rather than words.

“megumi, what would you do if i died?”

the thought popped in your head like any other, and you were pretty much unfiltered with your boyfriend so you didn’t hesitate to ask. he studied you for a few seconds, letting your question sink in before saying, “guess i’ll go down with you.”

you blinked. “what. don’t say that!” ogling at him in disbelief, he simply stares back before lacing your hands together underneath the sheets. “my life would be nothing without you.” he mutters.

“we’re sixteen, i think after a few months you’ll move on—”

“you dont have any idea. ive been best friends with you my whole life and your lover for six months. my heart cant take another loss.” he was talking about yuji on the last part, you realized. you were quiet once more, drinking in every curve and bump of his face as if you were trying to engrave it in your mind. “well then, you’re now stuck with me for a looong time.” you grinned.

and he grinned back, “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

@ httpmiriko 2021 - all rights reserved.

ding!

. . . fushiguro megumi. sinking into an abyss of despair, time and fate sure are cruel.

note. spoilers ahead.

megumi understands that he, himself, is human as well. and just like any other human being that roamed the earth, he is one to make mistakes; mistakes that would then teach him a lesson he'd either utilize to make up for his shortcomings or disregard the moral lesson he’s supposed to take and continue on with his life.

he knows, megumi knows, that he’s made so many mistakes in his lifetime, but he’s always had the right people to look after him.

satoru was there, and as much as megumi wouldn’t want to admit it, his teacher was a pretty good figure that helped shape the young jujutsu sorcerer into who he is today. though he may be a bit childish, he was a good man through and through; both a mentor and a sort of paternal figure in megumi’s life.

you were there too. a true parental figure to megumi in tandem with satoru. he often thought about how you’re constantly doting on him, treating him as though he were a little toddler who could barely stand on his own two feet, and how you coddled him most of the time—reminding him of how reckless he could sometimes be when it came to his assignments.

he acted a little annoyed when you did this, but looking back at it now, he begs the gods out there to hear his pleas—to bring back time or to even change the fate set upon him.

he loathed this with every fiber of his soul.

being a mere vessel for the king of curses made him shiver and almost want to lose what was left of his reasonable wit.

he loathed how he couldn’t do anything as sukuna held you by your throat, his grip on you so tight that your body went limp against his hand.

“f– fuckin’ hell,” you wheeze with a chuckle.

the curse coos at this; he’s enjoying this. enjoying how you’re physically being tormented by him, all while megumi’s consciousness is being tormented emotionally.

it’s like killing two birds with one stone, and he finds absolute delight in what he’s doing.

megumi’s breath is caught in his throat the moment he sees your battered body get launched into the air, then get pummeled down to the pavement with great strength.

the absolute agony in your cry shatters his heart into a million pieces. in the consciousness in which he’s trapped, megumi could only watch in horror as your life flashed before his eyes.

he remembers the times you always checked up on him, taught him how to improve his cursed technique, and even taught him how to ride a bike when he was still little.

it hurts to even remember them now when he didn’t pay much attention to them before.

you lay there, unmoving, your eyes half-lidded and dull. you’re gone. and he couldn’t do anything but watch as your life cuts off within a quarter of a second.

sinking into an abyss of despair, what’s left of megumi’s soul fades into a hollow void of space. time and fate sure are cruel, not only to him but to you as well.

one of megumi’s most regretful mistakes he’s made in his lifetime was, perhaps, taking you for granted.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader wc; 900+ genre; fluff a/n; prompt request for @luvnami <33 hope you like it!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The ‘U’ in Ushijima must stand for uncertainty, you’ve come to realize.

You suppose you could say the two of you were ‘dating’ — by a far stretch of the word. That is, if you could consider nightlong FaceTime calls and cheering him on at volleyball games dating.

You hadn’t even realized he was interested in you until Tendou pointed out that no, in fact, it was not normal for the Shiratorizawa ace to be following someone around campus like some love sick puppy,  and no, Tendou has never seen his partner smile, let alone smile at another person.

You had always thought Ushijima was always just… there. But now, he was making his presence known, and suddenly your vision was filled with nothing but him.

And maybe there was something charming about how he always seemed to find you. And you’ve discovered that Ushijima speaks exactly what was on his mind — it comforts you to know that he means what he says, and he says what he means.

And yet, it is exactly this bluntness that’s become the source of your confusion in the first place.

“So, are you guys going out?” Tendou had dared to ask one sunny afternoon during lunch time, picking at his food and staring at the two of you from above his chopsticks.

“Yes,” Ushijima answers instantly, wiping at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Your heart beats faster at the certainty of his words, sharing a surprised glance with Tendou.

That is, until Ushijima says, “Y/N has P.E. after lunch, so I will have to walk her outside.”

You physically had to stop yourself from banging your head on the table.

Tendou was not one to give up so easily though, opting for a more direct approach.

“No, Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendou sighs out exasperatedly, “I mean, are you guys together?”

You held your breath, wanting to know the answer just as much as the middle blocker did.

“Yes, we are together,” Ushijima says with his usual monotonous voice, though you don’t let yourself get too excited.

“We are eating our lunch together, Satori. Can’t you see?”

The school bell had rung as Tendou began his third attempt, and promptly the conversation had been swept away amongst the crowds of students trying to get back to class.

Keep reading

stop defining yourself by what you lack. you are not the absence of qualities, you’re the presence of them.

this was beautifully painful. nanami my love, YOU DID MORE THAN ENOUGH 🫵🫵😭🏃

and if my wishes came true ⊹

pairing. nanami kento x gn!reader

content/warnings. 2.9k+ wc | fluff to angst | narration heavy! | mentions of alcohol | minimal proofread | tw death

in which: nanami’s last seven minutes of brain activity was filled with his wishes, his regrets, and you.

Legend has it that in the final minutes before one's demise, a lifetime unfolds in a rapid reel before their eyes. 

As Nanami faces his imminent end, he can attest with certainty that the scenes playing out are not just a chaotic montage. For Nanami, those final scenes are a reel of memories – vivid memories painted with the colors of you.

And in his last breaths, he swears it's a life worth watching.

[MARCH 09, 2012]

The first time Nanami laid eyes on you, it happened in the pulsating atmosphere of a nightclub he never intended to visit. From his vantage point, the allure of your presence hit him like a tidal wave.

Your aura, a blend of magnetic charm and elusive mystery, transformed the mundane night he was having into a vibrant spectacle. The way you moved through the crowd was like poetry in motion, and Nanami couldn't help but be drawn into the orbit of your enigmatic presence.

He wasn't accustomed to losing himself in a few drinks, but he swears, one look at you was enough to make the room spin.

In his conscious mind, he found himself wishing to see you again—in a much more dignified situation, perhaps. Some place where he wasn't lost in liquor, and where you wouldn't mistake his intentions for anything less than pure.

So, he sat still on his bar stool, sipping the last ounces of scotch in his glass.

“It’s rude to stare at someone.”

Yet, as fate would have it, you were suddenly seated on the stool beside his own.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to,” he admitted.

You chuckled at his seriousness, clearly not expecting how seriously he took being pointed out. He’s the serious type, you noted.

You shrugged at his apology, swiftly turning to the bartender to order a drink. “Not having a great time?” you asked, turning to him.

Not anymore, Nanami thought. “You could say that. And, you? Do you not find yourself enjoying the night?” 

Nanami blamed the alcohol (he had a high tolerance) for his sudden chattiness. Even he was surprised by the plethora of words he was spouting.

“Maybe. You could put it that way, too.” you said, taking a sip of your drink. Nanami watched as you winced at the bitter taste. Clearly not a drinker, he noted.

“May I know why?” he asked. Again, he swears it’s the alcohol.

“It’s my friend’s engagement party,” you started, “I don’t know why but I feel left out of the conversation. I excused myself, and can you believe me they encouraged me? They said it’s about time I try.”

You turned to him, a complete stranger, if you'd forgotten. Because from the way you babbled to him, it seemed you'd forgotten he was one.

Bashful, you turned your gaze away and gulped the drink in front of you. “Sorry, I’m babbling.”

“I don’t mind,” he assured.

“How about you? Are you out with friends? Don’t you have someone at home, waiting?” Before you even realized the implication of your probing questions, you saw a subtle upward tug of this man’s lips, and oh, was he gorgeous.

“Co-workers,” he corrects you, “And no, I don’t have someone waiting at home.”

Nanami might have had a scant amount of dating history, but he wasn’t clueless about what you were implying. Being around two (loud) men who often prided themselves on their ‘charisma’ would teach you exactly how to ask someone if they were single.

It was a relief, you thought, knowing this about him. You only hoped you had done a good job of drawing out the information and expressing your relief in a better way.

Before either of you realized it, minutes slipped into hours, and the night deepened with the two of you exchanging stories and innocent details of each other’s lives.

Nanami learned that you were freshly out of college with a degree your younger self was passionate about. You were on your first corporate job, and haven’t yet found the best footing on how to keep up with the fast-moving world of adulthood— a sentiment Nanami nodded in agreement with, having once found himself lost as well.

In return, you learned that Nanami was much older than you. Not too old, but just the right amount of years ahead to know he wasn’t as corporate clueless as you are.

Later, you couldn’t recall what had prompted the deep conversation with a man you now knew as Nanami Kento. But, in your defense, he was surprisingly easy to talk to, and never once did the conversation take a suggestive turn toward a room and a bed.

“What do you want in your life?” he asked. It wasn’t invasive, given the nature of the conversation unfolding in a nightclub, a place where such discussions were said never to happen.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, laughing at your own cluelessness. “I want my family to be happy, does that count? I want them healthy, safe, and –”

“What do you want?” 

Momentarily stunned, you blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

“What do you want for yourself?” he repeats the question to you, seemingly clarifying that he was asking a question you misunderstood.

You realize what he was referring to and you will be lying not to admit that it didn’t do things to your heart. “I want the simplest things in life. I want to travel as much as I can and take as many pictures, I want to learn more, I want to laugh more, and I want to love and be loved for the rest of my life.”

It came straight from your honest thoughts. It was as candid as you can be. “Your turn. What do you want?”

“A proper date with you.”

You stilled at your seat with your glass hanging mid-air, unable to reach the rim of your lips. Turning to him, you met his gaze, finding a hopeful shimmer.

“May I take you out to somewhere less crowded, perhaps? Would Friday night do?” he continued, his voice an octave lower than before. You could only hope your face didn’t betray the shiver running down your spine.

“I’d love that, Nanami.” you replied, and to Nanami, it seemed as though his wishes had been granted by some benevolent force.

[AUGUST 01, 2014]

“Love, come here.”

Nanami's toned arm snaked around your waist, leading you away from the lively swirl of carnival lights and the enticing aroma of cotton candy to take you to his place of interest. What could be more interesting than cotton candies and popcorn?

Apparently, your boyfriend thought a wishing fountain was.

“You don't even believe in things like these,” you pointed out to him.

But he was hellbent on his purpose. He handed you a penny after kissing the side of your face, right between your temple and the apples of your cheeks. “I believe in everything you believe in,” he whispered.

“You love me that much, huh?” you playfully quipped, though your flustered cheeks betrayed the truth.

“Yes,” he responded, a declaration that needed no secrecy. Every day, in every way, Nanami intended to remind you of that love—as long as you'd let him. And he wished that would be a long, long time.

Perhaps, two years weren’t enough – no, two years was more than enough time for Nanami to realize that life was worth living with you in it.

He first realized it after the first proper date he took you. It was a lovely night in an Italian restaurant, graced with your smile that put famous paintings to shame.

You were breathtaking, a masterpiece in your own right.

From shy touches to the silence on the way home, the date after that night, and the one after. And may it be far-fetched, but in every moment you spent with him, he knew – it's you. 

It had to be you.

“Stop being mushy, mister. Here,” you handed him the penny, “How about you make a wish, then.”

“I don't know what to wish for.”

“Come on! There's got to be something you want.”

He pondered about it for a few seconds, his gaze flicking to you and back to the penny. “I might have thought of something.”

“Okay, don't tell me about it. It's bad luck. Just close your eyes, hold the penny like this,” you took his hand holding the penny and placed it inches away from his face, just below his nose, “And say it. Only in your mind, love.”

Nanami did exactly as you said. As he closed his eyes, you allowed yourself to linger on him.

What a beautiful soul, you thought. He was just so… “Mine,” you whispered.

“Yours,” he breathed as he opened his eyes, meeting your gaze with a tender softness replacing the usual stoicness. Seconds passed, and the next thing you knew, the love of your life was giving you a tender kiss. So tender, you knew it was one that would linger forever.

And in between soft kisses and whispers of sweet nothings, there you were — thinking two years with him were more than enough time to realize that Nanami Kento was the reason why it never worked out with anyone else.

That he was meant to be yours in the most perfect time, and that he made the trying and waiting time so worth it.

Because not to be oh-so-hopeless romantic, but you like to think he was it for you. 

And he is. Or at least, he wishes he is.

He threw the penny into the fountain before leaving, sealing an unspoken wish for forever.

[APRIL 11, 2016]

Yet, it seems, forever was just wishful thinking. Just a word that once echoed in the enchanting glow of a wishing fountain, now stood shattered in the harsh light of reality.

“Ken, I don't like where this is going.”

“It’s for the better,” he lies through his teeth. It was a blatant lie.

But Nanami – he resists, and stubbornly persists. It is for the better. 

“Don’t pull that shit on me,” you hissed in gritted teeth. Tears threaten to spill free, and you feel every fiber of your being pulsating with anger. 

Was it anger, truly? It’s not. How could it be, when it was Nanami who stood before you? You can never be mad at him, even when he’s hurting you.

“You said– you said you were just having problems at work, and I understood that.” a sob escaped you, “I... I gave you space, time to think. I've been supportive, have I not? It was just some problems, you said.” 

“But now, suddenly you're breaking up with me yet you can't even look me in the eye.” you continued, voice becoming more and more incomprehensible from crying, “Just tell me what problems you're having, and we'll figure it out. We'll figure it out like we always do. Just– just don't do this to me.”

Bargaining and pleading echoed in the hollows of your shared space. Yet, one look at his resigned face told a story of endings, not new beginnings. It was enough telltale that there's no figuring your way out of this. 

“I can't give you what you want.” Not when he will be bargaining with death every waking day. It's the life of a jujutsu sorcerer, it's nothing he can't change. But yet again and again, he wishes to.

“What I want?”

“The simplest things in life. I won't be able to give you that.”

“Then I'll take whatever you can give! Fuck what I want. I only want you!”

It's comforting, at least, to know he's been enough to you. But until when? 

Would you want him still when he couldn't come home because he was on missions where lives hung in precarious balance? Would you want to spend your nights pacing through the quiet of your house, your mind a tempest as he failed to return before dinner? Would you want him when he was all bloodied, half-dead, half-breathing?

“There's more to it. You're not telling me something, Kento.”

You saw through him, as you always did. Every time, he told you everything. But not this time.

He can’t just tell you about cursed spirits. He can’t just tell you about the life he lived before that fateful night in the bar. He just can’t tell you because that means your life will change.

And none of those changes aligned with the simplest things, none of them were what you truly wanted.

Being a jujutsu sorcerer– it was his choice. Choices come with prices, and Nanami loves you too much to subject you to the inevitable pain of being a sorcerer's lover.

“What are these problems, Kento? Why do you have to do this? Have I– Have I become one of your problems, too? Is that why you can't tell me?”

You asked, you pressed, and you demanded. Only to be met by silence from the blonde. Silence was always comfortable with him. But now? It sure was not.

“I’m sorry.” is what he managed to say.

 Two words spoken in a language of finality. Two words too plenty to know it’s over.

“Leave.” you fumed, tears freely streaming down your face.

With whatever was left of him, Nanami turned his back on you to leave. He would leave, do everything you wanted.

He shut his eyes tight before closing the door of your once shared abode.

It's for the better, he desperately wished himself to believe. This way, you would never be subjected to the haunting memories of grief for the rest of your life if he stayed with you, and the day would come where he couldn't come home anymore.

It's for the better, continuously and endlessly, he chanted in his head. Maybe the more he said it, the faster it would be true.

[OCTOBER 22, 2018]

What are dying memories if not intertwined with regret? Of all the memories, it had to bring forth this one.

Two years had slipped through Nanami's grasp since he chose to reenter the world of curses. Two years, and still, none of it was for the better. Losing you was never for the damn better.

Not when each day began waking up alone. And especially not when he was less than twenty meters away from you.

Who could have foreseen that staying overtime, grappling with curses in the quiet hours, would lead him to the flickering street lamp casting its dim glow on the bus stop where you waited?

Across the street, there stood you at the bus stop, a silhouette against the city’s canvas. Nanami’s gaze drank in the details— the way your hair caught the soft glow and the way it kissed the edges of your cheekbones, the subtle curve of your shoulders, and the rhythmic dance of your head in sync with the melodies streaming into your ears.

Your eyes, unaware of his silent vigil, held a vibrancy and depth that once intertwined with his own. Your eyes, they were magnetic and alive, and held stories Nanami wished he could still be a part of once more.

Have you lived the life you craved? The slow mornings you wished for, the tranquil nights of self-discovery— are they your reality now? He wishes, and he hopes, you are living the life he once thought he could give.

He can’t have that for himself for the way he chose to live, but it’s enough to know that you will.

Needless to say, you look... happy. And that's good, he wants to remember you happy.

For the first time in a while, Nanami didn’t mind working past beyond his normal work hours.

As the bus sighed to a halt, a mechanical exhale preparing for its nocturnal journey, his heart sank. He trailed your figure as you boarded, fingers twitching with a phantom ache — a desire to reach out, to rewind the clock and script a different narrative for your shared history.

But before he could do so, the bus pulled away, carrying you into the night and leaving him alone with the shadows of what could have been.

[PRESENT]

Nanami, for the most part, isn't one to regret his decisions.

This battlefield, this life — it was all worthwhile, he thought. Yet, as the cold grip of finality tightened, an unbidden thought surfaced — a flicker of regret for the one decision that echoed through the corridors of his last seven minutes of memories: letting you slip away.

Oh. You. Why is he thinking of you? Where are you? 

Where was he, in the first place? 

“You can say your last wishes, sorcerer,” a venomous, spectral voice pierced the air.

Last wishes?

Oh. That’s right. He was here, engaged in a desperate struggle. The students, are they safe? He has to get back at them. They need help.

But he can’t move. It hurts. Everything hurts.

Tired… I'm so tired. 

“I don't believe in wishes,” he managed to rasp.

More so, he no longer believed in them.

I’ve done enough, haven’t I, Y/N?

Nanami isn't one to regret his decisions, but the moment he thought of your name, he began to spend his last minutes wondering what could have been if his last wish came true.

Because if it did, it would've been you. It would be just you and him, wandering lost somewhere in Malaysia.

And he wouldn't be here. Instead, he would be coming home to you.

If wishes do come true, it would be just a life with you.

Yet, in the face of the harsh truth, wishes don’t always come true. Still, those seven minutes— the final seven minutes of memories with you— it’s enough consolation.

It was a life worth watching.

note. i love him, tenderly. he deserved the best things in life. in my mind, he's alive.

JJK CHARACTERS AS VINE QUOTES

• Itadori Yuuji — Mom made me potato wedges! Just kidding, made them myself. Be cool to have a mom though 😗

• Nanami Kento — No off topic questions. Because I don't want to. No, permission denied. That's an off topic question. You have been stopped.

• Naoya Zenin — Four female Ghostbusters? The feminists are taking over! I'M AN ADULT VIRGIN

• Maki Zenin Naoya: sorry I fell asleep, I was waiting on you to make me a sandwich — Go back to sleep and STARVE

• Yoshino Junpei — Yall ugly *poofs away*

• Inumaki Toge — Yo what's the scoot? PENIS

• Ryoumen Sukuna — Ah, ☝ I'm not finished. First off, oh my god, can you let me do what I need to do

• Okkotsu Yuta — Hi my name is Derrick *gasps* let me guess, pizza? *faints*

• Ijichi — I'm in me mom's car, vroom vroom

• Todo Aoi to Takada Chan — I love you, bitch, I ain't never gonna stop loving you, BITCH

• Fushiguro Megumi — You know what? I'm going to say it. I don't care that you broke your elbow.

• Kugisaki Nobara Maki: Bring the beat in — Anything for you, my queen!

• Gojo Satoru — People are constantly asking me. What's it like being a sexy— *falls*

• Mahito talking to the sewer rats — So I was sitting there, barbecue sauce on my tiddies

• Choso Yuuji: WHAT ARE THOOOSEEE?? — THEY. ARE MY. CROCS.

• Noritoshi Kamo — IRIDOCYCLITIS

• Itadori Jin — I want a church girl that go to church...aNd rEaD hEr bIbLe

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐋

pairing. miya osamu x gn!reader

content warnings. 3.9k wc, fluff, secrecy, misunderstandings

summary. after accidentally finding out about your boyfriend’s plans to propose to you, you anxiously await the moment.

that’s probably why he wants to propose. that’s probably why he wants to propose. that’s probably why—

the words had been playing on repeat in your head ever since they slipped past atsumu’s lips. you could tell he was apologetic for not only the mistake he made in revealing his brother’s business but also for keying you in on something you weren’t meant to be aware of. despite his profuse and plentiful “sorry”s, it had been impossible for you to not think about osamu’s impending proposal.

even less so now that you were standing outside his restaurant.

the last time you’d been relatively nervous at or near onigiri miya was when you were stationed on the bench and waiting for him to close up for your first date. time passed by excruciatingly slow as you peeked over your shoulder every couple minutes to gauge whether or not he would be out any time soon. you’d been inside the establishment only a few hours earlier with some friends who wouldn’t shut up about how cute the guy with the black cap was. you couldn’t blame them; you thought the same thing. which is why you were so surprised when what you thought was harmless flirting with the entire table led to him pulling you aside and asking you to hang out that night. it was an impulsive decision for you to say yes, but you didn’t regret it in the slightest. the happiest two years of your life came as a result of your spontaneity. the nostalgia of that moment was hitting you at full force as you stood tentatively at the entrance of the restaurant, patrons entering with excitement and exiting with content smiles. the kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering around in your belly felt the exact same as they did that first night you spent with him.

you couldn’t loiter around forever, though, as you only had so much time before your coworkers were expecting you back with lunch. with a stabilizing sigh, you pushed the door open, the bell above it ringing to announce the arrival of another.

part of you was expecting osamu to welcome you at the door, after all, it wasn’t rare for him to be running the host podium. though, instead of being greeted by a familiar face, a girl sporting a black apron was seating the growing line of visitors. you never knew where you could find your boyfriend at any given moment—he hopped between helping out in the kitchen, handling business in his office, and even waiting tables; which is what he seemed to be busy with today. you always thought he preferred spending his hours in the back working with the food, but he was surprisingly adept at socializing with customers. that much was evident by the easy smile playing at his lips while he conversed with a group of older women just to the left of where you were currently positioned.

you were close enough to pick up on most of the exchange. he was dropping off the bill and collecting plates as they doted on him—going back and forth about how helpful and kind he had been while servicing them. a smile of your own stretched across your lips as you listened to their overt praise of your boyfriend. you told him how amazing he was all the time, but he deserved to hear it from other people, too.

“a handsome gentleman like you oughta be married by now.” one of the women pointed at his ringless finger as he reached for her empty cup.

your ears perked up at the lady’s words. to them, it must have been hard to believe that a successful business owner with a personality likeable to all wasn’t settled down already. you waited in anticipation for his reply.

“yeah.” he breathily laughed—not with ease; more bashful than anything. “i’m working on that.”

you could pick up the distant laughter from the women that sounded farther away than it truly was. you never doubted it when atsumu told you, but hearing it from osamu himself made it so much more real. too focused on your thoughts, you didn’t feel the presence of someone beside you.

“hey.” you almost jumped at the sudden voice but the familiar feel of arms wrapping around you and soft lips pressing to your cheek stopped you. he must have finished up his chat while you were lost in your thoughts. 

“hi.” you smiled, hoping it didn’t appear too strained. there hadn’t been a time where it had felt awkward to be around osamu but you were beginning to think that now might mark the first. as much as you wanted to remain your normal and composed self, the task was proving to be difficult.

“lunch run?” he asked, pulling away from you but keeping one arm wrapped around your waist.

“mhm,” you hummed.

he told you that he’d grab your order so you wouldn’t have to wait any longer in the line. you chewed at your lip as you gazed nowhere in particular in an attempt to think about anything but the proposal you should have been oblivious to. osamu was back in no time, placing the to-go bag in your hand and sending you off with another kiss.

the bell rang again as you departed from the restaurant. as if your mind wasn’t already in the gutter, you had something new to dwell on for the rest of the day.

დ  დ  დ

the aroma of breakfast cooking typically roused you from your slumber on saturday mornings, but rather than awaking to the scent of a freshly cooked meal, the hum of the television from the next room worked as your alarm. wiping any lingering sleep from your eyes and tossing the comforter aside, you stood up and padded down the hall to see what osamu was up to. through slightly bleary vision you were able to catch sight of him sitting on the floor in front of the couch, his eyes trading off between looking at the flat screen and the screen of his laptop. it wasn’t often that he handled work matters outside his office and during occasions when he did bring business home, he’d usually hunker down in the guest room that served as a workroom so he wouldn’t get distracted.

“good morning,” you called from behind the couch. you leaned over the back and squinted your eyes to get a closer look at his laptop. “whatcha looking at?”

tilting his head back, osamu flashed you a bright smile. his hair was messy and unbrushed and your hands were itching to neaten the brunette strands. he patted the space on the floor beside him. “come see.”

you rounded the cushioned furniture and plopped down next to osamu. you wriggled a bit before you were comfortably pressed against his side. the volume of the tv that was playing some competitive cooking show filled the otherwise silent room. with a satisfied sigh, you finally looked at the tab pulled up on osamu’s computer.

“houses?” you cleared your throat but it was too late to take back the crack that had broken it.

a hand ran lazily up and down your side as osamu nodded.

“how come? i thought you liked your apartment.” you crossed your arms and chewed at the inside of your cheek. you spent more time at his place than your own and osamu often called his apartment yours—the two of you were practically living together. and you loved it, being able to wake up beside him and welcome him home after a long day, but the thought of buying a house made you shiver. the nagging at the back of your mind that you had been trying so hard to ignore was resurfacing.

“i do,” he agreed easily. “but don’t you want to find a place to call a home of our own?”

“well, yeah…” at the beginning of your relationship, you could only have dreamed of this moment; house hunting with osamu. the thought made you giddy; picturing how beautiful your yard would look lined with colorful flowers, thinking about all the meals you and osamu could make in a spacious kitchen, imagining what the rooms would look like filled with photos and belongings of your own—envisioning a happy life with him. now that you were getting a taste of the experience, you couldn’t help but think about his plans to propose. if he was already searching the market for houses, it must have meant that you were quickly approaching his proposal. there was no time to enjoy what was right in front of you when you were too preoccupied thinking about osamu popping the question.

“hey.” he smoothed a hand over your hair and smooshed your cheeks together with his other. osamu hated seeing your eyebrows knit together in a frown. he couldn’t be sure as to why you looked so troubled, but he did know that he’d do anything to get your mind off of whatever was bothering you—even if that was the window displaying images of houses for sale. his lips met your puckered ones in a quick kiss before he continued. “no need to get the jitters just yet. we’re just scouting, nothing serious.”

it was clear that he caught onto your discomfort and his words were an attempt at ridding you of it. just because you were feeling awkward didn’t mean you had to put a damper on osamu’s hopeful mood. and he was right; it would take a lot more than a couple hours on a saturday morning to find a house that the both of you were happy with. there was no harm in just looking. you nodded with a grin, “nothing serious.”

“but,” he drew out the vowel, “i have been waiting for you to get up so i could hear your thoughts about this kitchen.” he clicked over to the picture showing off the kitchen of the listed house. “what do you think? pretty amazing, right?”

you couldn’t let your nerves ruin what was supposed to be an exciting milestone for you and your boyfriend. and how could you deny the man with sparkles of anticipation in his eyes? 

“if you like it, i love it.”

დ  დ  დ 

spacing out is your new normal. it happens much more often than it ever did before a couple weeks ago. you’ll be at work, typing away on your keyboard, and your mind will drift. the next time you look at the document you’re working on, it’s filled with your written thoughts about being a spouse rather than the report you were meant to be filling out. you’d stare at your hands while loading the washing machine with dirty laundry, imaging what your ring finger would look like adorned with a metal band. it was only when you went to transfer the wet clothes to the dryer that you realized you accidentally mixed in colors with the whites. the growing mishaps had you wishing you were still gleefully unaware or led you to internally rushing osamu to hurry up and bend down on one knee. though, you don’t blame osamu for your wandering mind—how could you? it wasn’t his fault that his brother blabbed.

your life would be a lot easier if atsumu had a filter and kept his mouth shut. you had let him off the hook because his apology seemed sincere, but the moment that ring was resting easily on your fourth finger, he’d be getting a mouthful of choice words for causing you so much unnecessary stress.

even now, on what was meant to be a relaxing walk with osamu, you were too distracted to enjoy the cool breeze gently blowing against your face and the company of your boyfriend. the warmth of osamu’s hand enveloping yours was the only thing anchoring you to your environment, which is why you gasped when he tugged your arm to keep you from walking any further. you stumbled back on your feet, glancing over to osamu to see why he stopped you so abruptly. you weren’t able to ask before he started kneeling down.

it was as if time froze.

oh god, is he doing it here? now? in the middle of the sidewalk? of all the scenarios you had run through during restless nights, you had come to the conclusion that a public proposal was the least likely; osamu was an intimate man and you figured he wouldn’t want to make a scene. but more than that, he’d want the event to be exclusive to the two of you—no spectators or wandering eyes, something private; a memory that belonged to you and you only. the shock of not only his proposal but the execution left you reeling. heart thumping wildly in your chest, you willed your eyes to look down to your feet. your breath caught in your throat upon seeing that he was only tying his shoe. you didn’t know whether to breathe out a sigh of relief or scream in frustration at that fact you’d be waiting for who knew how long for the real thing to happen. again.

“you good?” osamu questioned with a frown as he slowly returned to a standing position. he’d been catching you with a crease between your eyebrows recently and despite your consistent reassurance that you were fine, the expression seemed to always find its way back to your face. he never wanted to be the overbearing boyfriend that crossed your boundaries by constantly hovering over your shoulder and badgering you to tell him how you actually felt. he trusted that if something was bothering you, you’d tell him when you were ready.

you had no intention of coming straight out and telling him that you were expecting him to give a sappy speech and pull out a velvet box. the entire reason you had been suffering silently was because you didn’t want him to know that you knew. you wrapped your hands around his arm and peered up at him with a tight-lipped smile. “yeah, sorry. i was just in my head when you stopped me, that’s all.”

he stared down at you and you could practically see the doubt swimming in his eyes. there was no way you could keep up this act without him getting even a little suspicious—your behavior was clearly stirring up some wariness on his end. you ignored the biting feeling that was telling you that osamu was onto you, meeting his gaze happily.

“okay,” he finally spoke up with a short nod.

“okay, let’s go.” you rested your head on his shoulder and squeezed his bicep in a gesture to keep moving. he obliged, the two of you naturally falling into step with each other and continuing your stroll through town. you pointed out a shop that caught your eye, one with mannequins set up in the window wearing some cute outfits. the weather getting warmer was a perfect excuse for you to stop by the boutique and shop around. maybe browsing and asking osamu what he thought about the clothes would be enough to get your head out of the clouds.

დ  დ  დ

“this place is really nice,” you commented, head turning to take in your surroundings as you sat down in the chair osamu pulled out for you. the most eye-catching characteristic of the establishment was the extravagant chandelier hanging from the center of the room. the crystal pendants glimmered when the lights hit them at just the right angle, highlighting the intricately carved art on the walls. individual candles were lit at the center of each table. you couldn’t put your finger on the scent, but you imagined it smelled amazing. even the silverware set out looked expensive. “are we celebrating something?”

you were caught off guard when osamu walked through the door earlier than usual, telling you to change out of your comfy clothes into something nice. it took a full-blown interrogation under the ruse of needing to know the dress code for osamu to come clean and admit that he was taking you out to dinner. it struck you as strange, though. your boyfriend was a chef at heart and loved trying out new recipes in the kitchen, excitedly standing by while you taste the dish and give him feedback. but on days when he was burned out from all the cooking at work, he’d ask you if you were fine with him ordering takeout. even on the days when didn’t want to cook but wanted to get out of the apartment, the two of you usually ventured to a familiar local spot, never anywhere that warranted more than jeans and a sweatshirt. him taking you to a restaurant so opulent must have meant it was a special occasion, right?

tonight had to be the night.

“no,” he took his seat across from you, laying the provided napkin on his lap before running a cautious hand over his hair. it was an unusual sight to see his hair slicked back, but some of the dark pieces strayed from the rest, swooping over his forehead and framing his face. he always looked handsome in your eyes but under the lights illuminating the room, he looked even more attractive. “i just wanted to treat you to a nice night.”

“that’s sweet.” you reached across the table to take his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze and offering him a soft smile. what exactly did a “nice night” entail? dinner, dessert, and a diamond ring? you hoped he didn’t notice the tremors running through your fingers.

he returned your smile with one of his own, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. the two of you shared light conversation until the waiter arrived to take your orders and collect your menus. as smoothly as things were going, you couldn’t help but think that as time went on, you’d get closer and closer to that moment you’ve spent weeks waiting for.

“is something wrong?” osamu asked.

“nope.” you shook your head. “why would something be wrong?”

“your leg keeps bouncing under the table.”

“oh, sorry, i didn’t even notice.” you pulled your hand back and rested your palms on your thighs to stop them from moving.

“look, babe.” osamu ran his hand down his face and sighed. you must have thought he didn’t notice that you were beginning to frown more, that you were sleeping at his apartment less, that you pulled away when he brought up the future—but he did, he did notice and he couldn’t let it go. “you’ve been acting different lately and i told myself i wouldn’t pry but it’s really starting to worry me. i just… was it something i did?”

“no! no, of course not.” you waved your hands back and forth frantically as if they’d physically disperse his word throughout the air—rid that ridiculous thought from his head. you wanted to grab him by the face and scream at him about how wrong he was, but you kept your hands folded in your lap, thumbs unconsciously twiddling.

“the truth is…” you chewed your lip thoughtfully, thinking of whether or not it was a good idea to finally tell him. you had good reason for keeping it from osamu, but now that you saw it was doing more harm than good, that he was blaming himself for you being distant, you recognized that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to keep him in the dark. you had to tell him—this whole debacle had gone on for far too long and it was affecting someone other than yourself. you took a deep breath before continuing. “when i went out with atsumu a couple weeks ago, we were just talking when he told me something he shouldn’t have. he said you were going to propose to me.”

osamu’s lips parted in surprise. it never crossed his mind, the possibility that you were aware, but now that he thought about it, everything made sense. well, mostly everything. you had answered his question, but it raised another, one that was more difficult to ask. “so have you been acting strange because you knew, or because you don’t want to get married?”

you knew it wasn’t his intention, but your heart broke a little at the fact that he even considered your rejection to be a liable prospect. and it cracked a little more knowing that your secrecy is what likely instilled that notion in his head. “it’s not that. i was just on edge because i didn’t know when it was going to happen—i was expecting it and every little thing set me off.”

he nodded slowly as he processed everything.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you earlier.” your voice was quiet and osamu could just barely hear it over the commotion of the dining area. “i didn’t know what to do when your brother told me and, i don’t know, i thought acting like i was clueless would be best. i didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

“you don’t have to apologize.” he placed his hands palms-up on the table and waited for you to set yours on top of his. you lifted them off your legs and gave them to osamu. he raised them to his mouth, kissing the back of each before meeting your gaze once more. “i’m not mad, i swear i’m not. you did what you thought was right. don’t beat yourself up about it.”

despite his understanding, part of you still felt as if the whole ordeal was avoidable. but if osamu wasn’t upset with you, there was no point in being upset with yourself. he wouldn’t want you fretting over it and you wanted nothing more than for things to return to normal. you smiled and huffed out a laugh. “i guess i ended up doing exactly what i was trying not to. did you have a backup plan in case i found out before you got the job done?”

“mmm, can’t say i thought about that. but i suppose i could just do it now. i don’t have the ring on me but there’s no reason to wait since—”

“are you serious?” you stared at him in disbelief. you’d spent the last several days walking on eggshells as though osamu would propose at any given moment, telling yourself that it could happen when you least expected it. still, none of those previous actions lessened the shock of osamu’s nonchalantly spoken words.

“completely.” he traced a line over your finger; the one that he ideally would have been sliding a ring on. it was far from how he imagined the scene would play out, but even without the defining qualities of the average proposal—the dropping down on one knee, the long heartfelt speech about how his life changed when you walked into it, the dazzling ring—everything about here and now felt right to osamu. “marry me?”

tears pooled in your eyes, threatening to spill over your lashline. you’d thought you had enough time to prepare for this—experienced enough scares to steel yourself from crying, but if this stretch of time had taught you anything, it was to expect the unexpected. the vision of osamu in front of you was slowly blurring with each passing second. you blinked, allowing the tears to flow down your cheeks and drip down your chin. you wanted to be able to see his face clearly when you gave him your answer. fervently nodding, you responded, “yes.”