ningningsplushie

[ningningsplushie]

Sukuna who never was close to his twin brother and never cared about the pipsqueak runt of a kid who’s his nephew.

He doesn’t care and doesn’t want to be associated with that bullshit. His brother doesn’t take the hint ever and invites him to everything. “My sons’s birthday party” this and “my son’s kindergarten graduation” that. What sort of graduation is meant for a kindergartener anyway? That’s a load of nonsense. But Jin is as annoying as ever with insisting on keeping contact and trying to get Sukuna involved and he hates it until by some tragedy out of nowhere, his brother and sister and law are dead. Yuuji’s left an orphan and no one can care for that kid because there’s no one left.

No one except Sukuna.

They ask him, too. The social workers. They turn to him and say some pitiful script about being “the only family left to take custody of him.” He knows pretty well what’s going to happen to the pipsqueak if he doesn’t agree. The foster care system and the possible horrors such a bright (even if annoying) kid could face makes him question saying no for a second. He’s surprisingly conflicted.

And it’s out of sheer impulsiveness alone does he end up as a single, grumpy, begrudging uncle who’s got custody of a child he never really cared to know in the first place.

And then he meets you.

Sweet, bubbly, warm, and so weirdly happy. Dictionary definition of what an elementary school teacher should be. Yuuji’s absolute favorite person on the planet as he waves hello at you enthusiastically every time that Sukuna drops him off and goodbye every time that Sukuna picks him up.

“I heard his new guardian would be his uncle. It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur to him the first day he picks up Yuuji after school, a look of pure melancholy on your face as you stare at him with an unearthly amount of compassion and sympathy. “Yuuji’s parents were wonderful people. I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“Wasn’t that close with either of them,” he grunts out. You look over at where Yuuji’s gleefully playing on the slide of the playground. Too young and innocent to realize that’s been ripped away from him. Too naive to understand what it means to grieve. Too hopeful about the world around him to realize just how cruel it can really be.

“Oh,” you murmur, nodding slowly.

He thinks that your unnaturally kind demeanor will finally be broken for a split second of judgement. What sort of heartless bastard doesn’t feel an ounce of grief for his own brother’s death? Instead, however, you seem to look at him with some weird sense of wonder.

“You’re a good uncle for stepping up regardless,” you say softly, “it’s more than what most would do in your shoes.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he clicks his teeth, unbearably uncomfortable with how weirdly sentimental this all is. “He’s just a five year old. How much trouble could he be?”

You raise a brow in amusement, eyeing him like he’s got one hell of a surprise waiting for him. He doesn’t like the vague way you hum, “Yeah. How could such a little human cause trouble, right?”

“I’ve got it under control,” he grumbles, a little annoyed that you seem to think that out of all things, a simple child would be enough to cause Sukuna any issues.

“Let me know if you need anything,” you smile.

Yuuji calls to you from the distance, squealing look what I can do! before he does a rather clumsy spin. Sukuna raises an unimpressed brow. You clap and praise him with an exaggerated gasp of approval.

It’s oddly endearing, he thinks to himself—you, not the kid. The kid’s barely tolerable.

“C’mon, you brat,” Sukuna calls. And then he looks at you and gruffly adds, “And I don’t need help.”

“Okay,” you grin brightly. It almost feels like you’re saying that a little sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ve got this parent thing down.”

Before he can even correct you that he’s an uncle, not parent, Yuuji comes running over on clumsy, short little legs and grabs onto Sukuna’s hand.

“C’mon, Uncle ‘Kuna!”

Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your eyes soften. Weirdly enough, he feels this odd sort of squeeze in his chest that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s just getting old—that has to be it.

[ningningsplushie]

Hi there! Long time reader, first time asked 👀

I saw your requests were open, and I was wondering if you'd be willing to do a Nanami drabble? Literally ANYTHING, your writing is so good, I trust you 100000%

💖 Even if you don't, thanks for considering anyway 🙏🏻

content: established relationship with nanami, female reader [implied to be shorter than nanami], fluff and crack  thank you for the request anon! hope you like it <3 i wasn't sure if you wanted an nsfw one or not, so i just decided to keep it a lil' silly. — general masterlist ☆

nanami paused mid-action, the knot of his tie still undone, as he watched you drag a footstool across the floor with great determination. his brow arched ever so slightly, curiosity piqued.

you weren’t exactly the tallest person, and that stool seemed to be your weapon of choice for the grand gesture you were planning.

"what exactly are you doing?" he asked, his tone flat, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"don’t worry about it," you replied, climbing onto the stool with the kind of focus one might reserve for scaling mount everest. you wobbled slightly, and nanami instinctively placed a hand on your waist to steady you.

"hand me your tie."

his brows rose higher. "my tie?"

"yes, your tie. give it here."

"you do realize i can tie it myself, right?"

"where’s the romance in that, kento?" you countered, managing to look smug despite balancing precariously on your makeshift podium. "besides, i watched at least fifteen youtube tutorials last night. i’ve got this."

nanami sighed, equal parts amused and intrigued, and handed you the tie. he wasn’t in any particular rush to leave — not with this level of entertainment unfolding in front of him.

you grabbed the tie with all the confidence of a seasoned expert, draping it over his neck and starting to work the knot. "okay, step one: cross over... or was it under?"

nanami’s chest shook with a quiet laugh. "you don’t sound very sure."

"shhhhhh," you replied, glaring up at him. "let me concentrate."

you fiddled with the fabric for a moment longer, but as the knot began to resemble a crumpled ball rather than a tie, your expression shifted from confident to mildly panicked. "wait. no, no, no — this isn’t right."

"are you sure you watched fifteen tutorials?" he teased, tilting his head slightly as he watched you unravel your work.

"don’t mock me, kento. i’m in charge here."

"of course you are," he replied, but the amusement in his tone was unmistakable.

you tried again.

and again.

and again.

by the fourth attempt, your frustration was palpable. "why is this so hard? i swear i practiced on a scarf last night, and it worked perfectly!"

"maybe the scarf was more cooperative," nanami offered, lips twitching as he fought back a grin. "or perhaps it had better supervision."

"you’re not helping," you huffed, tugging the tie free and starting over yet again.

"i’m sorry, darling," he said, though his voice was anything but apologetic. "please, continue. i’m thoroughly enjoying this."

on your fifth — and final — attempt, you managed to produce something that vaguely resembled a proper knot. you stepped back triumphantly, admiring your handiwork, and looked up at nanami with a beaming smile.

"there! perfect!"

he glanced down at the tie, then back at you, his expression soft and indulgent. "it’s a little crooked," he said gently, reaching up to adjust it.

you smacked his hand away. "noooooo, it’s not. it’s charming. and you’re leaving it like that because i worked hard on it."

he chuckled then, the sound deep and warm. "as you wish," he said, smoothing down the tie but leaving your imperfect knot intact.

as he grabbed his briefcase and prepared to leave — five minutes late, but not that he’d ever complain — you trailed after him. "so, how do you feel, mr. nanami? pampered? loved? dashing in your wife-tied tie?"

"all of the above," he replied, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "though next time, perhaps we’ll start a bit earlier."

"next time, i’ll have it perfected," you promised, hands on your hips.

he smiled as he stepped out the door, his heart feeling just a bit lighter. five minutes late was nothing compared to the joy of watching his wife stand on a footstool, determined to make him feel cared for in the cutest way possible.

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[ningningsplushie]

Nanami sat at a quiet corner table in a small cafe, one hand wrapped around a coffee cup that had long since cooled. His gaze drifted out the window, taking in the sights of the street but focusing on none of them.

The hum of the cafe, the muted conversations and clinking cups, was soothing. A moment of quiet felt surreal as he waited for you to meet him.

“Excuse me?”

Nanami looked down to see a small girl, maybe six or seven years old, standing by his table. Her eyes were round and curious, and she was staring at the healed web like burn scars on his face and the scars that peeked out from under the cuff of his shirt.

He felt a pang of self-consciousness and was about to glance away, but the girl tilted her head, undeterred.

“What happened to your face?��� she asked, her tone as innocent as her question.

Nanami blinked. He wasn’t used to such direct curiosity. Most people (adults) either looked away out of politeness or offered a sympathetic smile that he never quite knew how to respond to. But this child simply waited, eyes bright and expectant.

He took a steadying breath. “I got hurt while I was working,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “But I’m alright now.”

“Oh,” she replied, digesting this. She looked at his hand, tracing her gaze over the marks on his fingers and wrists. “Does it still hurt?”

“Not anymore.” He found himself softening a bit, his usual reserve giving way to something gentler in the face of her openness.

She nodded, apparently satisfied with this answer, and then broke into a grin. “I think it looks cool. It’s like super hero scars. You must be one!”

Nanami couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “Thank you,” he said. “But I’m not a superhero.”

The girl crossed her arms, as if deep in thought. “My dad says superheroes don’t always wear capes. He says sometimes they’re just regular people who help.”

Nanami felt something twist in his chest at that. “Your dad sounds like a smart man.”

“Sometimes,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “But he doesn’t like coffee or chocolate. He says it tastes like dirt.”

Nanami let out a quiet chuckle. “It does, a little bit. But I like it anyway. And chocolate? That sounds criminal.”

The girl laughed with him “That’s what I think! Chocolate is yummy. He’s nuts.” For a moment, it felt like the weight of everything he’d been carrying was a little lighter.

“My name is Emi.”

“I’m Nanami. It’s nice to meet you Emi. Where are your parents?”

“Behind the counter. They own the cafe.” She smiled as she waved at her dad who gave an apologetic look towards Nanami.

“Do you come here a lot?” she asked, swinging her arms a bit as she looked around the cafe.

“Sometimes. Me and my wife like the pastries here. Or I come here to think.”

She seemed to consider this, then pulled a bright red crayon from the front pocket of her Bluey bag and placed it carefully on the table. “Here. In case you need to write something while you think. Or your wife!” she offered earnestly.

Nanami took the crayon, holding it between his fingers as if it were made of glass. “Thank you,” he said, voice soft. “That’s very kind of you.”

The gentle wind from the door opening brought Nanami’s eyes up and to you as you walked over. “Hi darling.”

You bent to kiss his cheek and smiled before looking over at the little girl. “Well hello! Do we have a new friend?”

“I’m Emi! Is Mr. Nanami your husband?”

You nodded sitting down at the table but still keep contact with the girl.” “Uh huh. He is.”

“Thats so cool. You’re married to a super hero! Did you know that?”

You looked up to Nanami, confused as he chuckled and traced his thumb over the crayons paper wrapping. “It’s.. we’ll get to that in a second.”

[ningningsplushie]

College Tutor!Nanami

Conservation of energy: changing forms for you

Smau: pre-relationship and established relationship texts with modern au!Nanami Warnings: 18+minors and ageless blogs do not interact, you will be blocked, sexual language, angst, allusion to bullying

[ningningsplushie]

Day After First

Smau: in which you deal with the aftermath of the first time with the jjk men Warnings: 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact you will be blocked Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna

[ningningsplushie]

A Date With Her? Pt 2

Smau: in which they start to regret being a homie hopper Warnings: cursing, poor quality of work (made in a rush), just don't hold it against me pls I'm ashamed Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna, Yuji, Megumi, Inumaki Pt 1

[ningningsplushie]

life as a hit man was dirty but simple, and gojo preferred keeping it that way. he didn’t know his clients names, they didn’t know his. he’d send over proof of his work, they’d wire in the money. dirty, yet simple.

so when he gets a message to kill the daughter of some oil tycoon, he doesn’t think much about it. sure he thinks it’s cheap to go for the kid, but what does he know. this is the most he’s ever been offered for a one shot job, so he’s not an idiot to turn this offer down.

and unfortunately, that meant his next confirmed target was you.

he gets your information, where you go to school, what apartment building you live in, where you like to eat. usually he prefers a straight shot to the head, but sometimes sneaking in something to your food lets him off easier.

gojo gets to know your routine. what you do at what time. what shows you watch, what your favorite sweater is. he watches from the high rises that faces yours, crouching down so none of your bodyguards could see the reflection of the magnifier of his rifle.

and gojo is used to taking out a wide range of people. men, women, grandpas, aunts. it’s just business to him. but there’s something about you that makes him hesitate to pull the trigger.

maybe it’s the fact that the weeks he’s spent trailing after you he’s noticed you’re pretty much a loner. you keep to yourself, never bothering anyone. you don’t seem to have my friends in your classes, or even out of them. gojo never questions to morals of his clients or who they ask him to kill, but judging you so far you seem to have done…nothing wrong.

you treat the old lady who works in the convenience story with such kindness that gojo wonders if you were born into this level of wealth, because most people of your status treat those beneath them like ants. you always hold the door open for your body guards despite them insisting they do it for you. you always buy some food for the stray cats in the alley you pass, and you never yell when you’re on the phone with your dad, even though gojo tracks those calls and feels the need to yell for you.

it all comes to a moment when you’re at your favorite coffee shop (he knows this because you come here so often), and you’ve managed to weasel away from your bodyguards. he knows they must be freaking out by now, but you just want some alone time.

he’s right there, right behind you, the little pouch of his condition of drugs that instantly kill in his pocket ready, and you turn around with your coffee cup and bump into him.

your eyes seen, letting out a shocked gasp as the iced drink stains his shirt and pants, the cup not empty on the floor.

“oh my god, oh my god,” you stutter out, scrambling to find some napkins, “i’m so so sorry! i didn’t even see you there - gosh,” you shove some napkins into his hands, trying to dapple the coffee away but it does nothing to help, “i can’t believe…!” you trail off, the two of you moving out of line so you don’t hold the others up and your shaking your head in dismay, mad at your clumsiness.

“it’s alright,” he assures you, waving it off as his eyes take in your appearance. “don’t even worry about it, accidents happen.” it’s the first time he’s seen you this close, and he feels that pouch growing heavier in his pocket.

because you’re pretty. really pretty. and he likes the plush of your cheeks, the scrunch of your brows, the way you’re nearly gnawing your lip raw. you seem even prettier in person, and there’s a lump forming in his chest, something he’s never felt before.

“no, no,” you murmur, trying to find the tide pen in your bag, only to realize you left it at home, “and it’s stained too, fuck. i am so sorry about this, you probably have somewhere to be and…” your words trail off as you scramble for your wallet, pulling out some cash as you push it into his hands.

it’s more than he needs to replace the shirt and pants, probably enough to buy him a couple pairs from ralph lauren, but you still seem to think it’s not enough as you look for more.

“it’s no worries at all, i keep an extra of shirts in my car for emergencies like this,” gojo lies smoothly and you look up from your purse, eyes wide in shame. fuck he really likes your eyes too.

“no, please take it, it’ll be on my mind all day if you don’t,” you insist, but he’s shaking his head defiantly, a reassuring smile on his face as he hands the money back to you.

“and it’ll be on my conscience all day if i take it,” he promises you, and after you realize he’s not going to retract his hands you take the cash, shoving it back into your wallet as heat settles all over your body.

of course with your luck you spill coffee all over the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

you still look worried, finding another napkin as you take out a pen from your purse, messily writing something down.

“this is my contact information if you ever need me to replace your clothes,” you hand it over to the man with an apologetic smile, “please don’t hesitate to call me, i know stains and that’s gonna be really hard to get out,” you go to say something else but your eyes dart to the large windows behaubd him, catching sight of your body guards who seem to have seen you, and your face falls.

“i’m really sorry, again, but i have to go,” you mutter as you speed off, waving goodbyes to the stranger as you duck your head down and leave the coffee shop, not wanting to cause another scene as three buff men race in to find you.

gojo stands there almost in a haze, looking at his stained white shirt to the napkin with your number and name on it.

almost as if he didn’t already know it, almost as if you weren’t the girl he’s supposed to kill.

and in that moment he realizes how screwed he is, because he’d rather down that packet right there than shoot you down, and he’s never felt this dread before.

[ningningsplushie]

I Know You 𓈊⋆ ˚ Huening Kai

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bestfriend! Huening Kai x fm!reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Summary: You've fallen in love with your best friend and you just can't stand it.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Fluff and minor angst!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Author's note: First TXT fic here 😼

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Masterlist

---

The movie had been playing for at least an hour already. To you there was just a blur of colors and mumbled words. You had no idea what was going on, not when he was so close to you. Unaware of the effect he had on you. You could practically feel the heat radiating off his body. Sitting next to him, you were aware of your own breathing and the fact that your heart was practically beating outside of your chest. Secretly hoping that he was oblivious to the state that you were in. 

“Are you tired? We can shut it off for the night,” a warm voice interrupts your thoughts as you are suddenly brought back to reality. Kai looks at you, worry etched on his face.

“Huh? What–no I’m totally into it,” you adjust yourself on the couch pretending like you’ve been paying attention all along.

“Oh yeah? Then what just happened?” 

“Uhm well you know the killer just killed someone.”

“Wrong. They actually just defeated him.” He turns his whole body so that he’s completely facing you. “Hey..are you feeling okay? You know you can talk to me right?” Kai reached for your hands that had been resting in your lap and slowly rubbed his thumbs over the back of them bringing you some comfort. 

Feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through your body at the feeling of his touch you immediately stiffen and retreat your hands. “Really Kai, I’m okay,” you offer a small smile his way and place your hands back in your lap ignoring the hurt look on his face. 

He looks unconvinced but he tries to move past the nagging feeling that something is wrong. “Well it’s pretty late, do you wanna just stay over? The guys will be home late. I don't think they’ll mind, they never have before.” 

You hesitate. Thinking back to how just watching a movie with him made you feel like you were about to combust, you’re not sure that you can handle sleeping over. Even if in the past you’ve done it dozens of times. Ever since you’ve realized that you’ve liked Huening Kai more than a friend thanks to Beomgyu, you can barely handle being in the same room as him. “Actually I think I’m just going to go back to my place, I appreciate you offering though Kai,” you offer a smile. 

“Oh–okay..” Kai looks down at his hands as you begin to gather your things. “Y/N, are you..sure you’re okay? I didn’t do anything wrong did I?” He looks up at you from his position on the couch, worry clear in his eyes.

You ignored the guilt rising in your chest and swallowed hard. “Of course not. You were right I’m just tired,” You turn away from and continue to gather your things. Kai remains silent. “Okay..well I’m going to go.” The air was awkward around you both not sure of what to say to fix it.

“Oh yeah...well get home safe..Y/N,” Kai is stiff he sits on the couch not moving and not meeting your eyes as you move towards the front door. 

“Goodnight Kai,” you smile at him even though he refuses to look at you. You feel an immense amount of guilt knowing that it’s most likely because of you that he is acting the way that he is. Kai is ridden with worry and concern for you racking his brain for anything that could’ve gone wrong throughout the night.

As you’re walking home you decide that it would just be best if you avoid Kai for a while while you sort out your feelings for him. No longer wanting to put him through unnecessary situations that would make him feel uncomfortable much like one tonight just because you can't get a grip. You begin to recall your conversation with Beomgyu from just last week…

---

“Y/N are you serious? You seriously don’t think that you like Kai?” Beomgyu looked at you like you had grown a second head. You two had been playing a game together while everyone else was out getting food. Beomgyu let out a groan as the words “you lose” display across his screen. “I mean seriously have you seen the way you two are? You’re practically a couple already, it’s sick.”

“Start the game and are you serious? We’ve been friends for 8 years and if I haven’t liked him yet I don’t think I ever will. Platonic friends exist, you know.” You roll your eyes, smashing buttons on the controller eyes not leaving the screen. “Also what’s wrong with the way we are? So we’re a little cuddly. I mean we are close, I don’t see the issue.”

Beomgyu pauses the game and gets up, putting his face right in front of yours. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“We are platonic friends, whatever is going on between you and Kai, that sure as hell is not platonic.” His hands are on your shoulders shaking you slightly. “Think about it, could you cuddle with me on the couch during a movie? Sleep in my bed and wake up tangled in each other's arms? Spend every second of every day with me?”

As you look at Beomgyu it’s almost as if alarms start sounding in your head. You push Beomgyu away and jump up from the couch. “WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?” You exclaimed looking at him in horror. “Beomgyu..I think I like Huening Kai.”

“You think?!”

---

You laugh as you think back now. How could you be so oblivious? The signs were all there. Huening Kai is the only person you wanted to see everyday. He’s the one you seek out to be with in any social situation. Pretending to be asleep when you stay over just so you can be in his arms even if it’s for a second longer. Tracing his eyelashes and admiring how beautiful he looks when he’s asleep. Lingering looks at his lips just wondering what they would feel like against yours…

As you unlock your front door your phone buzzes in your pocket revealing a text from Huening Kai. 

Huening - Let me know when you’re home >3<

God you love him. How could you not when he’s so unapologetically him.

---

You wake up the next day feeling more exhausted than when you went to sleep. You spent the entire night tossing and turning the only thing or person occupying your mind was Kai.

You reach for your phone seeing you’ve received another text from the man of the hour.

Huening - Want to go to this new cafe I found? I’ll buy 🙂‍↕️

You stare at the text hovering over the keyboard before shutting your phone off and tossing it aside. You couldn’t. Not until you’re able to be yourself around him and not some nervous wreck.

Instead of dwelling on this any longer you decide to throw yourself into work that you’ve been letting pile up. You put on headphones and blast music allowing time to escape you as you sit in front of your laptop working away. 

---

You have no idea how long it’s been since you’ve started working but you notice the sun is going down. You stretch your arms above your head and rub your eyes. You close your laptop and move to grab your phone which you haven’t looked at since this morning. Expecting nothing you're surprised to see that your phone has been blowing up since this morning with not only texts and calls from Huening Kai but also texts from the rest of the boys.

Huening - Hellooo? Did you want to go? :(

Huening - Y/N?

Huening - Are you mad? Please tell me what I did? 

Huening - y/n? :(

He had called you a total of 10 times. Guilt started to eat away at you. You definitely weren’t expecting this when you decided not to text back and this was certainly not what you wanted. Continuing to go through your missed messages you read the ones from the boys.

Beomgyu - Hey did Kai do something?

Beomgyu - You better text him back dude cuz he’s really freaking out

Soobin - Hey Y/N is everything okay between you and Kai?

Yeonjun - Please answer Kai he won’t stop whining 😭

Taehyun - Is everything alright with you?

Without thinking you grab your shoes, put them on and run out your front door towards Kai’s house. It didn’t matter how late it was or how much of a mess you look like, you couldn’t bear the thought  of him being upset because you decided to be selfish. You arrive at his house knocking incessantly until someone answered. It was Yeonjun. 

“Y/N? Are you okay? Did you run here? You’re all sweaty.”

You ignore his questions. “Where's Kai?” 

Yeonjun widens his eyes at your worried tone. “He’s in his room. Last he told us he said he was going to bed. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah I just...need to talk to him.” You move past the boys in the living room practically running to Kai’s room not paying any attention to the bewildered looks from the boys.

“I need to see this,” Beomgyu laughs slowly following behind you peeking from around the corner. “You’re all about to owe me 20 bucks.”

You raise your hand to knock on his door hesitating slightly. You swallow and softly knock. 

“I said I wasn’t hungry Taehyun, I’m going to sleep” His tone sounded groggy and soft not his usual cheery and excited tone that you’ve grown to love. 

“Kai? It’s me..can I come in?” You hear shuffling from the other side of the door and then slowly the door knob turns revealing a disheveled Huening Kai. He looks at you for just a second before engulfing you in his arms. His head instinctively tucking itself in the crook of your neck breathing in your scent. Your arms stay at your side, your body going into overload at the sudden intimacy. He’s warm and smells like he always does. Your eyes close and you take in the closeness and warmth he is bringing.

“Wait.” Your eyes shoot open and you push him away keeping him at arm's length. “Kai I–”

“Y/N?” You look up at him to see his face full of hurt. He’s confused and hurt and it’s all your fault. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean–”

“No!” He jumps at your sudden outburst. “Sorry it’s not you…it’s me.” You look down at your feet unable to meet his gaze.

“Please just talk to me…I can’t stand this.” He puts his hands on your cheeks forcing you to look at him. “I tried to ignore it, I really did but I know you and I know when something’s wrong. You’ve been pulling away from me all week..why?” He’s looking in your eyes almost as if he’ll find the answer that he’s been looking for. You look at him and see all his hurt and pain he's feeling.

“Kai I just–” You look into his eyes. “I don’t think I can say it.” You close your eyes, fighting back the tears that are threatening to fall. “I don’t want to lose you.” 

“You can tell me…anything you know this.” You feel his thumbs wipe away stray tears that have fallen. “You’ll never lose me…I’m yours…forever.” You open your eyes to see him still looking at you with that same intensity. 

You couldn’t do it. You just had to know…you crash your lips against his losing the internal battle you’ve been fighting you finally gave in. Your lips move against his. His lips soft and warm, everything you dreamed they would be. Realization slowly starts to seep in you also notice that he’s not kissing you back. You pull away and taking in his wide eyed gaze. 

“Kai I’m–” You’re mortified. “I’m so sorry but I just…couldn’t help myself.” You look at him. “You’re all I think about day in and day out. I can’t pretend that everything between us is completely platonic, not when you make me feel so many things.” You grab his cheeks in between your hands forcing him to stay by your side. Preventing him from escaping. “I am so completely in love with you.” You look at his eyes hoping and waiting for him to say something,  anything. “Please…just say something.” You beg. With each passing second regret starts to fill you. 

You begin to remove your hands from his face when Kai lurches forward crashing his lips on your own. You almost fall backwards, his arms wrapping around your waist preventing you from doing so. Almost immediately your eyes flutter shut and you’re kissing him back. Lips intertwining with one another breath intermingling. His hands are sliding up your shirt gripping onto your waist tightly afraid you may disappear. Your hands move to wrap around his neck tangling your fingers in his hair tugging slightly. 

You feel yourself being led backwards. Not breaking the kiss Kai lays you down on his bed, him on top continuing to kiss you, slighting biting down on your lips signaling you to open your mouth as his tongue slides in meeting yours. You let out a soft sigh as you enjoy the warmth spreading throughout your body feeling like you're on fire. Kai’s movements started to get hungrier hands sliding higher under your shirt, light touches sending shivers down your spine.

Needing to get some air you pull apart a small laugh leaving your lips as you slowly flutter your eyes open to see Huening Kai with pink tinted cheeks and heavy breaths on top of you. “I’ve waited so long for a hint or anything from you. You have no idea how much I love you. How long I've been waiting to just kiss you.” He says barely above a whisper, his breath touching your face as he makes his confession.

“I love you too, Kai.” He smiles and slowly lowers his head wishing to meet your lips again.

“HAH! I told you. You all owe me.” You and Kai sit upright at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice bumping heads. You rub your head muttering an “ow” 

“You guys bet on us?” You’re mortified.

“It was only a matter of time.” They all agree. 

You look at Huening Kai expecting him to be annoyed but he’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. He kisses the top of your head. The boys are expressing their joy and being themselves wishing you congratulations. You look at Kai and see him mouth “I love you.” You smile and cuddle into his side watching as the boys continue to bicker about the bet. You and Kai settle into each other like you're the only one's in the room.

---

[ningningsplushie]

"Oh! Kento-- wait-- please please please--"

Kento turned back on the bustling Tokyo street, the night bullied away by neon signs, light pollution, and the pollution of the wayward drunken laughers. He only came on staff nights out, now, because you'd be there. He peered at you, tie-loose, hair-mussed and bleary, as you knelt in front of a Gacha machine. You rummaged in your purse for a coin.

Kento grunted, smirking, and reached into his clinking pocket, swaying back to you with liquor-rusted words.

"You're drunk. Here--"

"A-ha!" You birthed a 500 yen coin from your purse, triumphant, and Kento felt childishly disappointed that he couldn't pay for your inebriation treat for you. He watched you fumble the coin into the Gachmachine, and turn the wheel, crank, crank, cranking until there sounded a hollow tok, and a skrrr-skrrr-skrrr, tok.

The Gacha pod landed in the dispenser. You gasped, biting your lip in sweet anticipation, and looking up at Kento. He could barely contain himself from his own adoration, wanting nothing more than to reach down and grasp your plush cheeks and press his lips to yours and taste the drink off your tongue and--

"Kiss, Kento."

Kento frog-blinked, wondering if he'd spoken such impurities aloud, and opened his mouth to apologise. But he paused again, leaning down over you, knelt on the pavement, where you held the Gacha pod up to him, and repeated yourself, ditzy-drunk.

"Kiss it, Kento. For luck. For me."

Self-conscious, and grumbling in a way that only deepened your grin, Kento leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to the Gacha pod as you laughed. He straightened up, looking up and down the street to see if anyone saw, his vision a few seconds slower than his mind, wading through whiskey.

Heat rose up Kento's neck, and he opened his mouth again to suggest something stupid like why don't you come back to mine for another drink and--

"Awww, damn! This one again!" Kento looked down at you, owlish and inquisitive. You held up a little keychain, with a disappointed half-smile on your lips. You grimaced up at him, shrugging.

"That was my last shot I think. This line discontinues next week. Never mind." You tapped the front of the Gacha machine, stroking the green image of the one you were after, wistful.

Kento pulled you to your feet, and you linked your arm through his, swaying down the street together. Kento swallowed hard, wishing you were on his back, but instead blurted out;

"I'm sorry my kiss wasn't lucky enough."

You sighed, pensive, swinging your keychain on one finger.

"I'm sure they're plenty lucky. Just, maybe not for me."

Kento barely registered your words, distracted and glancing back down the street at the flashing Gacha machine, growing ever more distant.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Between lessons a few days later, you crept into your office to dump essays on your desk, and snatch five minutes of peace. Settling your mug down, you saw the glimmer of brightly coloured plastic on the centre of your keyboard.

You blinked, curious, before a smile of realisation broke out across your face. A Gacha pod. You recalled, with your cheeks growing hot, how you had begged Kento for his lucky kiss, and how he hadn't corrected you when you told him that his lucky kisses would only be lucky for another girl. You felt a sting of humiliation...

...but, nobody else could have left this gift. Taking a deep breath, and pressing your lips to the pod (unknowingly stealing a kiss that had already been left there for you), you cracked it open-- and squealed with delight, ecstatic and fizzing with joy, to find your collection completed in the eleventh hour.

Later, at the first ring of the lunchtime bell, you knocked on the door to Kento's office. No answer. You knocked again, and gently opened the door, peering round and calling out.

"Kento...?"

Still, no answer. You crept in, closing the door behind you. His office was empty, his desk sparse and functional as always, not wanting to turn his desk into anything that would suggest he thought of work as home. The cupboard on his desk, was, however, straining at its latch, wonky at the closing seam from something stuffed inside.

Curious once more, you stroked the bursting seam of the cupboard, and undid the latch.

A veritable ball-pit burst forth over the office, with Gacha pods of yellow and red and orange and pink and blue and purple and black and white and--

--and every colour, except for green. Dozens and dozens of Gacha pods...except, for green. That one, you held in your purse. You swallowed hard, blinking back tears, and collected Gacha after Gacha, from beneath cupboards and radiators, rolled to all four corners of Kento's office.

Setting to work, you sat cross-legged on the floor, emptying the pods of their keychains one by one. Thousands and thousands of yen tallied before your eyes, and the plain, unassuming desk behind you said nothing of your coworker's secret obsession. And how he couldn't face you. And how you would never have known.

You sat in silence, with a lap full of empty Gacha pods, and listening to the birds singing songs of summer outside the window. You thought, and thought, and thought. You ripped pages from your notebook, tearing them to shreds, and set to work once more. By the time you were finished, the lunch bell rang again. You crammed the final Gacha back into the cupboard.

You could only wait, and hope.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The warm summer rain started as evening began to roll in. You looked out of the Bistro window from your table for two, your belly twisted with nerves. Your green prize was clasped in your hand, a lucky charm; one earned with far more luck than a simple kiss could give.

You heard the jangling of a bell behind you. You dared not look up, instead just listening-- slow, familiar footsteps. The rattling clunk of a tote bag being placed before you, filled with Gacha pods. The rustle of a stack of carefully unfolded little notes, all with one word on; 'tomorrow'. 'Café'. 'You'. 'Me'. '8pm.'

"You broke into my cupboard."

You pursed the smile between your lips, your eyes closing with the silken chastisement, made without venom. Kento's cologne washed over you as he sat on the chair opposite, removing his glasses in a way that softened his face completely, looking at his lap with a smile. When he looked up at you, it was with a love so unapologetic that you could have cried.

You felt your nose stinging again, and set your green Gacha prize on the table between the two of you. Sheets of rain washed down the Bistro windows, and you cleared your throat, your voice cracking.

"This is quite the prize."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Kento! I'm home!"

You dumped your shoes and bag at the door, padding into the living room on bare feet. Kento leaned away from the stove, twirling spaghetti, and offering you the smiles he offered nobody else. He anticipated you, as your mouth opened.

"--yes, I went to the Gachapon. They're on the sofa. Pre-kissed."

You gasped in delight, in the same way you had that night, and bounced onto the sofa, two Gacha leaping with you.

"Two?" You cried, to his shrug, "I only said one-- you can't keep funding my habit, Kento--"

"I'm sure one would have been fine. But, just in case."

You barely registered Kento stepping over to you in his apron, with two steaming bowls, so focused were you on cracking open your Gacha pods. Taking a deep breath, you undid the wrapper...and cheered, your arms flinging into the air.

"Your kisses really are lucky, Kento, gosh...well, one more, then, I--"

You had cracked open the final Gacha. A ring tumbled into your hand, and your brain short-circuited. You trembled, rolling it around in your palm. The two halves of the pod clattered to the floor, forgotten. Your vision swam, and you sniffled, and looked up.

Kento had dipped onto one knee before you, aproned and still, with two bowls of pasta In his hands. In the crucial moment, he seemed anxious. He cleared his throat, his voice thickening.

"I would...like to fund your habit for the rest of our lives. If you'll have me."

A laugh bubbled through your tears, and you wiped your cheeks, allowing Kento to slide the ring into place on your finger. You held his broad hand in serene silence, time standing still, before you spoke.

"...so this ring is just...just one in the collection, right? Wait-- no, Kento, COME BACK, PLEASE-- I'M JUST FUCKING WITH YOU--"

[ningningsplushie]

Police officer! Toji who adores embarrassing you in front of your friends when you’re on lunch break

He’ll notice you guys walking towards the nearest cafe and chatting amongst yourselves and with a smirk gracing his lips, he’ll quickly blare the siren which startles the hell out of you until you realise who it is.

He rolls down the window, arm against the door frame with a sly grin on his lips. “Hey there miss”, he fakes a serious tone. “You’re aware I could write you up for being way too distracting to pedestrians right?”, he’s quite clearly checking you out which makes you roll your eyes.

“Is that so, officer?”.

He nodded affirmatively. “Afraid so. But since i’m a generous guy, I’ll let you off with a warning…only if I can see you tonight and also a kiss”, he adds, a playful wink following.

You knew full well after this your friends were gonna tease you for the rest of your break with how they were giggling amongst themselves.

Still, you huffed and leaned down, about to place a kiss on his cheek, but Toji held your chin and averted the kiss to his lips.

“Really? A friendly peck? You’re gonna have to do better than that if you wanna avoid the ticket”.

matserlist :)

[ningningsplushie]

i know that smoking is bad and gross and disgusting but i, unfortunately, am a smoker - so hear me out for a second. warning: a lil suggestive, shotgunning, reader is implied as an occasional smoker

kento nanami is a stressed man. his job is hard and he has to deal with, well… a lot.

for this reason, to try and relieve at least some stress, he picked up smoking. it’s not something he’s proud of. he finds it disgusting - he’s ashamed of it, even. he’s the kind of smoker that’s unguessable. he always smells clean, there’s no trace of the deep, strong smell of tobacco on his clothes, in his hair. he’s just so pristine.

so pristine, in fact, that when you two start dating you have absolutely no clue of this little vice of his. it’s the only secret he keeps from you: he doesn’t want you to judge him. and it’s not like he smokes a lot anyway. he usually indulges in a couple of cigarettes a day, nothing more.

but one day, when he kisses you as he picks you up in his car, you can tell he tastes different. there’s a new kind of flavor on his tongue, on his soft lips, and it’s so faint you almost don’t notice it. almost. but you recognize it, because you’re no stranger to smoking either, and when you pull away, you grin ever so slightly. you finally found a small flaw in your perfect man, and you want to tease him for it. but then, you decide to retreat. to find a better occasion to call him out and, who knows, maybe have a little fun with it too.

a couple of days later, you’re at his house, and he's just made love to you. you bask in the intimacy of the moment, his aftercare ever so thoughtful as he cleans you up and whispers soft praises in your ears, his lips brushing against your forehead to kiss it. after he's done taking care of you, he lies down next to you, his hand reaching for yours (and oh, he's such a sap, but you love it). that, you find, is the perfect moment to tease him. you crawl onto him and kiss his cheek, and when he turns to you with a shadow of a smile on his lips, you snicker.

"you know what i'd really like right now?" you ask, feigning innocence.

he hums in response, the back of his hand reaching to caress your cheek. "what, love?"

"a cigarette. i'd love a cigarette right now, ken."

his eyes widen at the weird, sudden request, his lips parting in surprise. he knows you all too well, and he's perfectly aware of the fact that you wouldn't have said that had you not known. he surrenders.

"you knew?"

"you tasted different the other day,” you explain, amused. “why didn't you tell me?"

he shrugs. "it's a bad habit."

"as if i would ever judge you."

he sighs, shaking his head before leaning over to his bedside table and opening the first drawer. "do you really want that?"

you shrug. "sure. give it to me. we can share."

he takes his cigarette pack, a lighter and an ashtray from that same drawer, places the small plate between the two of you as he pulls out a cigarette to hand it to you. you take it between your lips and look up at him as he lights it for you, and kento swears he's never seen anything sexier. you take a couple of drags, the smoke blowing from your lips and rising up in the half-lit room as kento watches you, mesmerized by your mere existence. you turn to him, and as your gazes meet, another idea crosses your mind.

you reach for him, your fingers grazing his mouth, which he opens immediately, almost as a reflex. you place your free hand on the side of his neck and lean in for a kiss, taking another drag of the cigarette instead. but as you get closer again, instead of kissing him, you gently blow the smoke into his mouth. and he drinks it in, the sharp smell of the cigarette burning mixed with your sweet scent, the way your subtle touch on his skin feels like it's burning him up alive. it drives him crazy - so much that, for a second, he loses his cool, grabbing you by the back of your head as his lips crash onto yours messily, hungrily. you can't believe how something as small as a little teasing has got him all worked up again, but you don't mind.

needless to say, the cigarette is quickly forgotten and put out in the ashtray.

the nicotine rush is nothing compared to you, after all.

@yamsfrecklvs

ash's note: lord forgive me i'm so weak for him ... also trust me shotgunning gets you a lot of game (source: me). i’m gonna go smoke a cigarette now

[ningningsplushie]

Pumpkin

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Synopsis: Husband!nanami (later father!Nanami) being super domestic during your pregnancy, birth, and arrival of your baby. 

CW: a smidge 🤏🏻 of angst but mainly FLUFF, pet names, established relationship, pregnancy, birth, babies  WC: 1.9k A/N: this is a sequel to Vitamins but can be read as a standalone if the smut in Vitamins is not your jam. Enjoy this fluffy goodness 🥹

Ever since those two tests had very loudly informed you of your pregnancy, Nanami had not let you lift a single finger to do anything. Not that he had even before your pregnancy — your husband’s love language was acts of service — but now? He was very hyperactive in taking care of you. 

“Honey, did you note down the appointment time in the calendar?”

“Honey, did you take your folic acid?”

“Honey, you’ve been on your feet too much today. You need to rest.”

“Honey, do you want me to give you a massage?”

“Kento,” you sigh, “I’m fine, really. It’s still early stages.”

“And you have to be careful during the early stages,” he notes. 

“I know. But you’re also treating me like I’m china and…it’s just…a bit too much,” you say. You didn’t want to tell him this, because you knew he meant well, but you also had to communicate your feelings to him. You were worried he’d be upset when you did, but he looks at you apologetically, seemingly taking it in his stride. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t mean to make you feel…suffocated. I was worried I was being too overbearing, but I wanted to make sure you knew that I want to do as much as I can for you. And the baby,” he explains in one breath. Your eyes soften and you step into his embrace, hugging him tightly, burying your face into his neck. 

“I do. I’ve always known that. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I would also like to do things myself sometimes.”

“I understand. I’ll be more mindful, my love,” he rubs his hand up and down your back. 

“Thank you, Ken. I love you,” you kiss his cheek and he turns his face to capture your lips with his in a chaste kiss. 

Every week, you’d made it tradition to take a side profile picture of the bump along with the fruit that the baby was the size of. This was Nanami’s idea, of course, and he made it creative and fun. Seeing him be so excited for the arrival of your child made your heart swell with joy. 

He’d very proudly started to create a scrapbook of all the happenings during your pregnancy which he was eager to show your child when they got older. 

Interestingly, Nanami did not want to do a gender reveal when the ultrasound technician offered to write it down at one of the scans. And you couldn’t fault his logic when he later explained, “It’s silly. It’s a social construct. We’ll find out when they’re born, and regardless, even then it won’t matter. We’ll still love them the same.”

Every craving, every need, he provided. Including the need to jump his bones in the second trimester. Damn, did he keep up with you. You knew it was because he found the cute little swell of your belly so incredibly sexy — he’d voiced it on numerous occasions — knowing he’d done that, nothing made him more unhinged. 

Ever the doting husband and expectant father, he’d started reading up more about babies and often tell you facts you’d have never known. “Did you know that your heart grows bigger during pregnancy?” He informs you while you’re laid back on the couch, on opposite ends, 5 months in. 

“I…did not know that,” you blink, surprised. 

“Yep. It’s to help the heart pump more blood to the baby. Babies can also cry in the womb.”

“Oh no,” you pout, “I don’t want baby to cry.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, hon, they’ve been quite gentle so far. You can sing to them, they’ll hear it by now. And talking to them in another language is also beneficial,” he notes and you let out a soft laugh at how he’s rattling off fun facts. 

“Your brain truly amazes me sometimes, Ken, it’s like a sponge,” you prop your arm up and rest your chin on your hand. 

“So’s the baby’s right now. We should get a Duolingo subscription and get them started on another language already,” he jokes and you let out a hearty laugh, which earns you a little kick in protest from your baby. 

“Well, your child just said no to that,” you giggle. 

His mouth falls open and he scoots over and lies between your legs, coming face to face with your bump. “Listen here, you little squirt, you will learn another language whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, daddy’s setting rules,” you whisper. 

“And in addition to that language, which you will be fluent in, you’ll also learn jujutsu,” Kento tells your bump definitively. You laugh at how he’s instructing the baby firmly one minute and then lovingly pressing kisses to your skin the next. 

He relaxes against you, and you decide to tell him a fact you’d found out recently. “Did you know that eggs can pick and choose whether the sperm gets to fertilise it? For a while, I thought it was just a race of the best sperm to get to the egg. But the egg can reject it if it wants to. Isn’t that fascinating?”

He raises an eyebrow in slight surprise and amusement at this newfound knowledge. He wasn’t aware of that little detail either, but he finds it very intriguing. “That’s pretty impressive. I had no idea that they had such power over which sperm gets to fertilise them. Who knew eggs were such shrewd gatekeepers?”

“Right? But my egg was a terrible gatekeeper. Probably a combination of that and your sperm just being overachievers.”

He laughs heartily at your comment, the image of his overly ambitious sperm and your easy-going egg combining to form your miracle is quite the amusing picture. 

“Well, I do have some pretty strong swimmers, I can’t deny that. And your egg must have had a weak moment, letting my little overachievers through. But I'm glad it did,” he smiles warmly at you, his hand gently rubbing your leg. 

There were moments where you couldn’t wait to meet the little one, but you also found yourself getting emotional a few times that it wouldn’t just be you and him anymore. When he notices your glassy eyes one day while you’re eating breakfast, he frowns and takes your hand in his. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The dam suddenly bursts — darned pregnancy hormones — and you start to bawl, managing to say between breaths, “It’s— not— going to— be just— you and me any— anymore…”

He has to stop himself from laughing at your sudden realisation and he circles around the dining table, embracing you. 

“And I know how stupid I sound right now, because I wanted this, and still do, but I’m— I’m just…scared,” you cry, inhaling shaky breaths. “What if I’m not a good mother? What if parenthood is the complete opposite of what I envision it to be?” You ramble.  

He rubs your back gently and comforts you, kissing the crown of your head as you rest it on his chest. “I know, honey. You don’t sound stupid. It’s natural to feel nervous. Parenthood is a new venture for both of us but it won’t be vastly different to what we think it’ll be. And you’ll be a fantastic mother. I’ll be by your side every step of the way, you’ll never be alone. We’re doing this together. We’ll make mistakes together. Clean up messes together. Strive together. It’ll be alright.”

His words of reassurance bring you a sense of calm and you feel the warmth of comfort spread through you slowly, easing your anxieties. 

He reassured you every time you felt any sense of worry or sadness, provided the love that you needed and more, and was a real anchor to harbouring your emotions. 

Week 40 arrived before you knew it. With a bright and large orange pumpkin in hand, you took what you hoped would be the last picture for the scrapbook. You both subsequently started referring to the baby as “pumpkin” that week. Every day that week, he had tried to coax them out with sweet words. 

“Are you gonna come out today, pumpkin? Today’s a good day to join us, I think. The weather’s nice out. You should come see it,” he whispered to your bump in the morning before you were awake. 

When your baby decided that they were ready to come out, Nanami was there, holding your hand the entire time, not once letting go. You were quite afraid of this final hurdle but with Nanami by your side, you knew you’d be okay. 

It was a long and tiring 14 hours, exhaustion was settled into your bones, but when you finally, finally give the final push and the baby is out, you cry. From the relief of birth being over, from the new chapter that had just opened, from having sight of the baby that you and Nanami had made. 

Nanami kisses your head, eyes glassy as he whispers praises of how well you did, that it’s over and he’s so proud of you. 

The midwife places pumpkin onto your chest for some skin to skin, placing a blanket on top, the little thing curled up and looking disapproving of being pushed out of the coziness of your womb. 

Nanami chuckles softly as he peers over and the baby’s rosy lip trembles before they take their first breath and start to cry quietly. You sniffle as you wipe your own tears and look at your husband and he kisses your forehead. 

You hush the baby gently, speaking softly, “You’re here, pumpkin…here with us. I’ve got you.” 

After they cut the umbilical cord, the afterbirth comes out, and the midwives take the baby to bathe, clothe, take measurements, and bundle them up. 

“How do you feel?” Kento asks, holding your hand still as you stand up, ready to take a shower. 

“I feel a little empty inside, it also hurts. Not looking forward to peeing,” you sigh and he caresses your hand gently. 

“You’ll get better with time, honey,” he guides you to the shower room.

There, he tends to all of your needs, helping you wash up, then dry off, and put your clothes on. 

You hug him and squeeze gently, gazing up at him lovingly. “What did I do to deserve you?” You whisper. 

He smiles sweetly, caressing your cheek and giving you a chaste peck. “You can’t say that after you just pushed our baby out,” he chuckles. You laugh softly and hold him for a moment longer, before you both go back into the room and the midwives wheel the bassinet over to you, where pumpkin is awake and looking for something to come into focus. 

“She’s very healthy, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami.”

“She?” You repeat, feeling your heart flutter. A sweet little girl. 

Nanami smiles to himself, he’s elated. He has a daughter. “Sweetheart, come on, look at her lips, they’re totally yours.”

You give him a small smile, eyes filling with happy tears as you both fawn over your daughter. It was a little early to tell, but you hope she has his eyes. She had a bunch of blonde hair, too.

“Hold her, Ken,” you whisper and he obliges, gently picking her up and angling his arms perfectly to fit his little angel against him. 

He’s quiet for a minute, just soaking up the feeling of having his daughter in his arms, the warmth of her, her existence setting in. 

“Now, about those language lessons that you refused to do…” he speaks to her in a gentle tone, and your lips curl into a bigger smile at his jokes, “I don’t want to hear another word from you, little miss. Any objections?”

He’s quiet for a beat and the baby just pouts as she looks up at her father, which you laugh softly at. “Good choice. Maybe start to brush up on some Malay, sweet pea, your mama and I will be taking you to Malaysia one day soon,” he promises to her you feel your heart flutter in your chest at the thought.

The three of you, your little family, in your shared happy place. Something out of a dream, but soon would be reality.

You couldn’t wait.

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved. Divider by cafekitsune

[ningningsplushie]

Photogenic

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nanami does not like his picture taken.

It’s a shame, really, because he’s painfully and effortlessly photogenic. Even the begrudging shots – the ones taken mid-grimace or right as that frown of his settles in – turn out looking unfairly good.

You’d seen it firsthand. There was that one birthday dinner at Shoko’s, where she’d caught him mid-toast, glass raised and mouth sloping into a small, tolerant smile as she snapped a quick shot of the table. The photo looked like something out of a magazine ad, his cheeks warmed from the sake, his eyes a little brighter. But when she’d tried to show him, he shook his head with an unimpressed grunt.

Or the time Gojo had insisted on a group photo after a team mission. Gojo teased Kento into standing there, arms crossed and brow knitted in simmering annoyance, looking thoroughly put out. But somehow, he just looked like he was on the cover of GQ: chin tilted just right, sleeves rolled up perfectly, even his hair slightly tousled from the fight before. You might’ve whimpered a little when Kento insisted it be deleted (and maybe almost sobbed again with joy when Gojo refused).

No matter the context, Kento managed to look remarkable. And yet, he loathed each and every photo ever taken of him.

You couldn’t quite place where this aversion came from. Maybe a bad childhood haircut immortalized in an old family album, or one too many “just one more!”s from well-meaning friends. Either way, you’d mostly given up trying to capture him on camera. He existed as some sort of cryptid, like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster: either you knew him in person, or he didn’t exist at all. But that hadn’t stopped Yuji – occasional agent of chaos – from sneaking in a few shots here and there. And that’s where your favorite picture of him came from.

You remember the day it was taken vividly. 

You’d insisted on a celebratory lunch for Yuji – a reward for a particularly tough job handled with flying colors (or, in short, because he’d actually listened to Kento’s instructions). Yuji joked his way through most of the meal, poking fun at everything from Kento’s meticulous folding of his napkin to his tactical approach to his plate, eating in the order of salad, then sides, then his main course. 

It had been right after you’d done… well, you couldn’t remember exactly what, as unremarkable as it was. Maybe a bad impression of Gojo, maybe a terrible joke. But whatever it was, Kento broke, his shoulders dropping as he graced the table with a genuine, unrestrained laugh that only you seemed capable of pulling out of him. Yuji had been quick to draw, snapping the photo before either of you noticed. 

Later, Yuji sent it to you with a sly grin. “Mrs. Nanami’s gotta have the good stuff,” he’d whispered, nudging you as he tilted his phone towards you. 

You stared, speechless, your heart doing a little stammering skip. There it was – Kento, your Kento, laughing, his shoulders relaxed, the faint lines by his eyes softened by that rare brightness in his gaze as he looked at you. You couldn’t help it; you’d immediately favorited it the moment it hit your inbox, tucked it into a private album, and maybe, possibly, looked at it embarrassingly often.

A few weeks later, though not remotely forgotten to you, it remained blissfully unknown to him.

One evening as you flipped through your camera roll, Kento leaned over the back of the couch, his arm bracing himself as he studied the photos of the fancy dinner the two of you had recently gone to. You’d taken more than one, trying to capture every detail of the delicate plating at his insistence so he could try and recreate it at home.

“Do you have a close-up of that risotto?” he asked, leaning in closer, his arm casually wound around the front of your chest and his breath drifting soft feathers across your cheek. “I want to see how they plated it.”

You nodded with an affirmative hum, flipping back a few photos – only to scroll back just a bit too far and that picture fills your screen, in all of it’s HD, no-longer-secret glory.

Your heart tripped as Kento’s gaze landed on it. You felt the warmth of his presence beside you grow a bit more rigid as he examined the photo, brows raising ever so slightly.

“...That isn’t dinner,” he remarked, clearing his throat beside your ear.

“Oh! That’s, um, just a… candid,” you stumbled, trying desperately for nonchalance. “Yuji took it, and it’s a really nice picture and I don’t have many, so I just…” your efforts to play it cool are skillfully undone by the plucking of your nerves… self-imposed, of course, because Kento remains quiet.

But he was still looking at it, brows drawing together as he studied it with a rare, quiet intensity.

“You favorited it,” he murmured, eyes flicking back to you.

His voice was low, gentle, but you stewed with nervousness all the same. “Well, I mean – look at you!” you laughed, feeling shy under his gaze, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. “The only pictures I have of you smiling are from our wedding! Let me have this–”

Kento plucked the phone from your hands and you screeched, immediately trying to claw it back. “Wait, don’t delete it!” you laughed, a cauldron of nerves and panic bubbling in your chest as he holds it just out of reach of your swiping hands, his mouth curving in that calm way it always does. You’re sure he’s about to grumble about “nonsense” or “unnecessary photos” or “living in the moment.”

But he didn’t delete it. Instead, he adjusted his glasses and held your phone closer to his face, gazing down at the screen with a gentleness that stopped your protests cold. You caught the flicker of something tender in his eyes as he studied the photo – lingering on you, the way you lean toward him, how happy you look together.

He was silent for a moment, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Then, almost shyly, “Could you… send it to me?”

You felt your eyebrows lift to be lost in your hairline, staring at him as if he’d just asked for the moon. “You… you want me to send it?”

He nodded. “Yes. I think I’d like to keep it.”

Your heart did a little stutter, a flash of warmth rushing to your face as you quickly sent him the photo. You didn’t think your grin could get any wider – but it did as you watched him save it, his expression somewhere between fond and exasperated, like he wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten here, holding on to a picture of himself simply because it had been yours.

The next morning, with toothbrush in hand and foam dripping down your chin, you checked your phone and blinked, frozen in the middle of a brushstroke. That picture – that picture – was staring back at you as his profile picture, right there on the one or two social media accounts he’d reluctantly made but never actually used. You barely resisted the urge to squeal.

And then, later that day, it happened again: catching the briefest flash of his phone screen across the kitchen table, you saw the photo on his lock screen too. He looked up, catching your wide-eyed staring with a soft smile, one that was just for you, and undeniably better than any picture could ever be.

[ningningsplushie]

these are my standards :

Yes I’m alive lol

[ningningsplushie]

TEXTS W BF TAEHYUN

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ taehyun x fem!reader

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ for the loml @slytherinshua have an amazing birthday 😼😼

[ningningsplushie]

yeonjun random boyfriend texts and stories

“ yeonjun x reader, fluff, kinda suggestive?, crack ( failed attempt at trying to be funny ), non-idol au. ”

masterlist

✎© all rights reserved to me. please do not copy / repost or translate my work without my permission or full credit. reblogs are appreciated.

[ningningsplushie]

"Boo!"

Sukuna doesn't flinch at Yuuji's adorable attempt at a scare, merely tilting his head with a small scowl as he wags a finger at his little brother

"What's this, brat?" He huffs, tugging on the white fabric covering Yuuji's body as the little boy lets out a whine of defeat

"It's my costume!" He protests, and you can only watch them with a smile as Sukuna huffs, tucking a single arm under Yuuji and easily picking the boy up

"Well I think you look very scary, Yuuji." You smile, and the little boy's entire face lights up at your words

"Scary? If anything, it looks like you're wearing a big ol' diaper. Makes you look even more like a baby." Sukuna cackles at Yuuji as the poor little boy's lip trembles. You know the waterworks are about to come - so you quickly snatch Yuuji away from him

You stick your tongue out at Sukuna, and Yuuji lets out a hearty giggle while your boyfriend rolls his eyes with a grunt

Eventually the three of you are all walking out of the apartment ready to go trick or treating. Halloween was Yuuji's favorite holiday, and you were determined to make this night a good memory for him.

Sukuna wasn't exactly on his best behavior, looming behind little Yuuji with a scowl that scared most people at their doors into surrendering a good bit of their candy to the pink haired baby boy. Sukuna also demanded Yuuji to thank every house they visited, and he happily complied - having a blast running through the neighborhood like a headless chicken.

"We need to get him on a fucking leash." Your boyfriend growls, following Yuuji as he skipped down the sidewalk - belting out some song and oblivious as to how fast his little feet were running. The only way you and Sukuna were even able to see where the little boy stood was thanks to the glow-stick necklace around his neck.

"Be nice." You reprimand, gently tugging on the cape of his vampire costume with a grin. Of course, you and Yuuji begged on your knees for him to wear something scary for Halloween, and he was forced to give in. You were glad - the blood trickling down his chin with his deep red cape flowing behind him made him look even more devilishly handsome than usual.

"Kuna! I got a full size bar!" Yuuji smiles, stopping in his tracks as he waves around the bar with a smile wide enough to light the dark night known as Halloween.

"That's nice, brat." Sukuna sighs, eyes crinkling in annoyance as he squints in the dark - of course the big baby already wants to go back home.

It took Yuuji another hour until he was satisfied. He peered up at his older brother and you, who had slung the obnoxiously large bag of candy over his shoulder as you licked a small lollipop

"I'm tired." Yuuji whines, dragging his feet to a stop as he lets out a long yawn. He holds his hands up for someone to pick him up, and you scoop up the little boy in your arms since Sukuna's were full.

"My poor baby. You did so much work this Halloween, going door to door like that. I'm so proud of you." You giggle while placing a soft kiss onto his chubby cheek, and Yuuji lets out a content sigh as he snuggles into your chest

Sukuna's eye twitches, his arm straining as he slowly shifts the sack of candy from one shoulder to the other

"What about my kiss? I deserve one more than him." He deadpans, his eyes unimpressed as his narrowed gaze flitters between you and Yuuji

"Mmm nope! You can have some at home though. He's been awfully moody tonight, huh Yuuji?"

The little boy squeals as you spin him around, laughter bubbling all the way from his tummy as you grab Sukuna's hand with a smile and begin the walk home.

Yuuji seemed to pass out after eating a good portion of his candy, and now you sit on the couch of your apartment as you watch Sukuna sort the candy - peanut and coffee and butter and toffee - all sorts of flavors in colorful swirly packaging were laid out in front of him.

You nudge Sukuna with your foot from where you laid on the couch

"Gimme a Hershey!"

He unwraps in silently, glaring at you and he taps your lips - signaling for you to open up. He glides a sensual finger over your parted lips - before shoving the chocolate so fast into your mouth that you almost choke

"Sukuna!"

He smiles, lifting himself off the floor and deciding to suffocate you on the couch instead

"What if I choked and died? What then, asshole?" You cry, trying to pry him off of you as he drops his head on top of yours

"Give me my kisses or I'll go wake up the brat."

You're peppering his face with angry kisses soon enough, and his laughter ends up waking Yuuji anyways.