Here For Funs And Silliness

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫.

𝐈𝐭’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞.

kento just being attached to his pregnant wife’s stomach.

you didn’t even hear him get inside the bathroom, you only recognized his presence when you felt a hand snaking down to your stomach.

he carresses it with so much care, too—as if it’s so fragile that with one rough move, it would break.

whether you’d be lounging on your couch,—watching whatever filled your heart’s content, his hand would always rest on top of your belly—occasionally rubbing it so gently you’d fall asleep ‘cause of the soothing motions. just hearing your soft snores calms every part of his body...

he decided to try a trick he found online where husbands lift their pregnant wife’s stomach to relief them and when he found out that you liked it—he’s always doing it. following you around the house, holding your belly as if he’d die if he ever lets go.

kento who just can’t wait for his darling baby girl to be born...

your face is the first thing he sees.

soft. serene. framed by the messy sheets and that sleepy morning glow, like the world outside paused just to admire you.

nanami lies still beside you, one arm tucked behind his head, the other slowly moving—gentle fingertips tracing the curve of your cheekbone, brushing a strand of hair from your lips. he could watch you like this for hours. although he supposes he already has.

he doesn’t know what time it is, doesn’t think to check. the only thing that matters right now is the way your lashes flutter just a little, like you’re starting to stir, and the way your nose wrinkles when he trails his thumb over it.

god, he loves that.

he loves you.

he exhales softly and shifts, ready to get out of bed—quietly, carefully, because he knows how much you dread waking early on the weekends—but the moment the mattress dips, your arm snakes around his waist with precision that could only come from experience.

“mm-mm. where d’you think you’re going?” you mutter, voice thick with sleep.

“was going to make breakfast, darling,” he murmurs, sighing to himself but there’s only amusement there.

he turns back to look at you, a smile tugging at his lips as his eyes drink you in — messy and warm from sleep. your hair is tangled, a little drool drying on your cheek, eyes puffy and half-lidded. so beautiful, it almost hurts. so you; raw and real and impossibly sweet.

“oh? gonna feed the ghosts? ’cause you’re not leaving this bed.”

he huffs a quiet laugh. “you need to eat, sweetheart.”

“i need you to stay right here.”

your fingers slip under the hem of his shirt, warm and unapologetic as you pull him back into you like gravity. he lets himself be dragged, arm sliding easily around your waist, his body falling into place beside yours like it was always meant to be there.

“you’re incredibly manipulative when you’re half-asleep.” and yet, he’s peppering kisses into your shoulder, already adjusting the blankets so that you’re shielded against the apartment’s cold.

“and you’re in love with it.”

he lets out a quiet sound—somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh. “unfortunately for me, i am.”

you grin against his chest. “unfortunately?”

“i meant it in a very romantic way, beautiful.”

you tilt your head up, eyes still heavy with sleep, but smug. “I’m sure.”

he kisses your forehead. “if i stay here too long, i’m going to fall back asleep.”

“exactly. that’s the point.”

“you’re going to be mad when i don’t make pancakes.”

“i’ll forgive you if you stay in bed with me all day.”

he sighs, soft and a little defeated because he knows he’ll end up doing just that. just because you asked.

and yet. “ten more minutes,” he says, closing his eyes, holding you impossibly tighter.

“you say that every time, honey.”

“and now i mean it.”

you snort, burying your face into his chest. he breathes in the scent of you, the quiet, the peace of it all—and gives in completely. he’ll stay in this bed for however long you want if it makes you happy.

the morning slips away, forgotten. and the afternoon. and the evening. breakfast be damned.

perhaps it's a new perfume, but you never switched from the one he picked out. you've used the same detergent since you were a teenager and match body wash with him.

there hasn't been a change in your lifestyle at all. kento swears he's not crazy...

then, he thinks he might actually be because he's standing in front of the washer with your black silk panties pressed to his nose. you just took them off this morning, so your smell is fresh—mouthwatering—yet different—a good difference.

"ken, i've been dreaming about milk bread from that bakery in-" you're stepping into the room, arms crossed around your traditional robe. you took off your clothes to shower, and now he's nose-deep. "...what are you doing?"

"oh." he replies haphazardly, pretending like he didn't just get caught sniffing your panties. he tosses them in with the rest of the clothes. "yes, dear. milk bread sounds lovely. you know, they do sandwiches too-

"why were you... wait, you're sniffing my panties? are you okay?"

"oh," he repeats, looking down to the contained mess of dark clothes in the drum. "I know... it's odd... i was just wondering why your pheromones have been dipping recently." he turns to you, shutting the washer and leaning against the waist-height appliance. "have you been taking any new medications? no, right? i would know?"

you swallow silence, knowing exactly what he was sensing... and silly you, you know your husband is mystic and observational. you should really tell him about that positive pregnancy test you have hiding in the wardrobe.

now is not that time. you shake your head. "no..."

so, he nods you over. "come here, now. i've been stewing over the matter for a few days."

kento sits you on top of the purring washing machine after he turns it on, giving you a passing kiss as you settle. You still get so flustered with him, and it's heightened right now—you just caught him with a noseful of your most private garments, taking it in like it was flora.

"well, firstly i thought it might've been a new bodywash... but we share."

"mhm." you nod, lips pressing together as he pushes your legs open. under the robe you're completely naked, but the shadow keeps you decent. "'s not the bodywash."

"yes. then, i figured... well, it's more likely to be an internal change. i can smell it waft when you walk by."

"are you saying i stink?"

his eyes get dark. he's staring right into your soul. "no."

you're purring - a steady engine coming to life within you that matches the tremors of the wash cycle. between your thighs, he reaches for your familiar cunt, knowing right where to reach, where he should bypass, and the entirety of your shape. instead of teasing your clit, getting you ready for further stimulation, he slides his thick middle ringer inside of you, buried to the hilt.

you take a breath, he cocks an eyebrow. "me smelling you like that... it didn't make you uncomfortable, did it?"

you're shaking your head immediately, reaching a hand to plant on his big, homey shoulder. he's hunching pretty far to get as close as possible, nose trailing over yours when he whispers.

"i don't... i don't even know what that means—mhmf." you squeeze your eyes shut, body twisting as he slips his pointer finger ring-deep inside of you. the shiny metal shocks your soul, twisting at your entrance as his digits stretch you sensually.

then, he chuckles. actually—real, rare. "good. i love you. all of you." he twists his fingers and pulls them out, drinking up your flustered gasps as he brings the glistening pair to his nose, taking a long sniff.

you're reacting like a fish out of water, opening and closing your lips as you try to make sense of it all. before two thoughts can connect, he's dragging those damp fingers to his lips, staring at you hotly as he takes them in his mouth.

he settles on a deep, throaty. "mmm..." cheeks hollowing around them like your taste is his favorite meal. "you're sweeter, too."

Five more minutes

Nanami Kento x reader | fluff

“You coming to bed?”

Nanami’s eyes flick up from his laptop, already expecting the scolding he’s about to get. But the moment he sees you—soft and sleepy in that silky pink slip dress, hair slightly tousled, lips just the tiniest bit pouty—he knows he’s in real trouble.

“Hello, my love,” he murmurs, voice dipping into something warm and gentle, like he’s already half-softened just from the sight of you.

You step closer, and, as always, he lifts his head just in time to meet your lips. The kiss is short but sweet, lingering just long enough to make your chest flutter. But when you pull away, you’re still frowning, eyes flickering to his screen.

“How much longer?” you ask, fingers lightly tracing the back of his chair.

“Five more minutes.”

You blink. Then, your expression flattens. “You said that hours ago.”

Nanami sighs, rubbing his temple. “…Did I?”

You groan dramatically and go behind his chair, leaning over. Wrapping your arms loosely around his neck from behind, you rest your chin in the crook of his shoulder.

He stills, his breath catching just slightly as you hug him from behind.

“You work too much,” you murmur against his skin, your voice taking on that soft, sleepy quality that makes his stomach twist.

Nanami exhales, his hands resting over yours, fingers brushing absentmindedly along your knuckles. “And you’re clingy when you’re tired.”

“Because I miss you,” you whine, nuzzling against his shoulder. “I can’t sleep without you.”

His lips twitch, and his hands shift, one coming up to lightly squeeze your wrist in silent affection.

“You survived before me,” he teases.

“That was before I knew how warm you are.” You huff, squeezing him a little tighter. “And how you’re my favorite pillow. And how your arms feel like the safest place in the world.”

Nanami swallows. His ears burn, and he clears his throat. “You’re not playing fair.”

“You’re the one still working,” you counter. Then, after a moment, you press a tiny, fluttery kiss against the side of his neck. “Come to bed.”

He sighs, shifting slightly. “Five mi—”

“Nanami.”

The way you say his name—half-whiny, half-scolding, but all fond—makes something in him break. He turns his head slightly, his nose brushing against your temple, and lets out a deep, resigned exhale.

“…Fine.”

You brighten immediately, squeezing him once more before stepping back, tugging at his sleeve. “Finally.”

He shakes his head, but there’s no real annoyance there—just quiet amusement as he watches you. Watches the way you bounce on your toes, the way your slip dress sways with every little movement.

You really are the most beautiful, clever thing he’s ever come across.

And when you turn back, smiling over your shoulder, your voice lilting, teasing—

“Come on, handsome. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

—yeah.

Nanami shuts his laptop.

No more five minutes.

I miss my future husband :(

Thank you soooo much for reading pretties ! <333

the weight of quiet

nanami kento x reader | fluff

“you’re fidgeting.”

nanami’s voice was thick with sleep, but the way his arm curled tighter around your waist made it clear he wasn’t too tired to notice. his hand smoothed over your stomach, fingers pressing gently into your skin as if coaxing you to relax.

“m’not,” you murmured, though you didn’t fight when he pulled you back against his chest, legs tangling with yours beneath the sheets.

he hummed, unimpressed. “then why can’t you sleep?”

“no reason.”

his hand splayed over your waist, warm and grounding. “that’s a lie.”

you hesitated for half a second before deciding there was no point in pretending. “want you to rub my back.”

nanami went quiet, and for a moment, you thought maybe you’d actually surprised him. then he sighed, low and amused, shifting behind you as his fingers smoothed up your spine.

“you could’ve just said that, my love.” he muttered, the tips of his fingers dancing across your back, his lips pressing kisses into your neck.

your breath hitched slightly as warmth spread through your body, his touch slow and deliberate. “figured you’d do it anyway.”

nanami huffed, but you felt his smile against your skin. “you’re spoiled.” but there was no real weight behind it—not when his palm was already moving lower, kneading at the small of your back before dragging up again, his other arm resting firm across your pillow beneath your head.

“yeah, but only by you.”

he exhaled through his nose, amused, his lips brushing over the back of your neck. “damn right.”

your eyes fluttered shut as his touch lulled you further into sleep, your body melting against his.

“better?”

“mhm,” you mumbled, already half gone.

nanami pressed one last kiss to your shoulder, the steady twirl of his fingers now a distant and featherlight touch as sleep had taken over.

“good. now sleep, baby.”

If nanami were real, i’d be a proud wife <3

╰┈➤ Nanami Kento

"You're making such a mess," Nanami sighs, but there's a playful glint in his eyes as you dance away while flicking at him with fingers full of flour, giggling as it poofs across his pristine suit.

"Am i?" you tease, shrieking with laughter as he stalks toward you, his arms outstretched as though he means to catch you.

The honey bread baking fills the kitchen with a sweet smell, almost as sweet as your teasing giggles.

"You are," he tells you, his lips tugging upward as he lunges for you, purposefully missing so that he could watch you dance away.

"Maybe you should help me clean up then," you suggest innocently, deliberately bending over- acting as if you were going to pick up something. His sharp intake of breath tells you he's noticed you're bare beneath that thin pink apron you've been parading around.

As Nanami reaches up to loosen his tie, and you can see his cock stirring against his slacks.

"Such a naughty little baker." he purrs, suddenly pressed against your back, his large arms circling you from behind, those addictive veiny hands of his slipping into the apron leaving white handprints across your breasts as he kneads them tenderly.

"Getting my suit dirty… making a mess of my kitchen…" His voice deepens as you grind shamelessly against his bulge.

"I- I was just trying to make you honey bread, hone- eep!"

You gasp as he spins you around, lifting you onto the counter with such ease.

Flour puffs into the air as he spreads your thighs wide, leaving dusty handprints everywhere he touches, "And such a beautiful little baker i've seen to have caught," he murmurs fondly, leaving floury fingerprints on your cheeks as he cups your face, "What am I going to do with you?"

╰┈➤ Gojo Satoru

"The cake needs decorating!" you protest through giggles as Gojo steals another fingerful of frosting, painting it across your collarbone before licking it off with a sly grin.

"I am decorating~," he argues playfully, blue eyes bright as he corners you against the counter, "Just found a much prettier dessert…" More frosted fingers trail down your inner thigh as he drops to his knees, "And it tastes so much sweeter too~"

You try to scold him, but his tongue darts out to lap up the frosting, leaving you shivering instead. He lifts your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access and making you clutch the edge of the countertop, your toes curling. He works slowly, teasingly, until he reaches your knee. By then, you're a shaking mess, whimpering softly, and when he suddenly pulls away, you're almost embarrassed by the needy sound you make.

He stands, licking his lips and smirking at the way you lean towards him, trying to pull him back into range, "I think you’re right though. Cake is more important."

"Mean!" you complain, and his smirk grows.

"Mean~?"

You nod, pouting slightly, "I'm gonna make sure you have blue balls forever now."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" he asks, and you shove him in the chest, only earning a laugh as he slowly sinks back down- his hands holding your legs apart before he huffs against your inner thigh, "Then again, i think i rather frost these pretty thighs instead…"

He glances up at you with a grin, "Now be a good girl and lift your leg back over my shoulder, I want to make sure I don't miss a spot."

You can't resist. You never could when it came to him.

With a shaky nod, you rest your heel on his shoulder, your leg trembling as he paints intricate patterns with the frosting before slowly, achingly, lapping them off.

"So delicious," he hums against your skin, kissing your inner thigh, "but…" his long lashes flutter as he nuzzles closer, "there's a part I've been dying to taste~"

"S-satoru-"

"Shhh~" he presses his mouth to your sex, his tongue darting out to taste you and you nearly scream, "Can't wait to stuff this pretty little cake with cream~"

╰┈➤ Geto Suguru

"You have flour on your nose," he chuckles warmly, swiping it off while you try to shape cookie dough hearts for Nanako and Mimiko. His arms wrap around your waist from behind, chin resting on crown of your head as he watches you struggle to make the dough do what you want. You try to keep focused, but his warm breath and body against yours makes you a little lightheaded.

"Y-you're distracting me," you complain without heat, melting back against his chest as he hums contentedly.

He steals a bit of dough, offering it to you with gentle fingers, "Can't help it," he murmurs, pressing soft kisses behind your ear, "You're too adorable in that apron, making treats just for the girls… I think I'll keep you."

Your cheeks heat at the praise, heart fluttering in your chest, and you're pretty sure you could live in this moment forever. Dropping the dough, you turn in his arms, leaving floury handprints on his dark robe as you pull him down for a kiss. He tastes like cookie dough and happiness, making you smile against his lips.

"The cookies will never get done at this rate," you whisper as he lifts you effortlessly onto a clean spot on the counter, settling between your legs with that tender smile you adore.

"There's plenty of time," he says simply, stealing another sweet kiss, deeper and longer this time, long fingers threading through your hair.

An hour goes by and the front door creaks open as two pairs of small feet patter inside from their adventures. Nanako and Mimiko pause at the living room entrance, twin grins spreading across their faces at the sight the find.

There on the couch, you and Geto are sound asleep, their papa’s arms wrapped protectively around you. His long dark hair is dusted white with flour and dried cookie dough crusted adorably on his nose. Your hair is equally disheveled, face mimicking his with equal parts dough and flour.

"Look! Look! They made cookies!" Mimiko whispers excitedly, pointing to the beautifully decorated plate on the small kitchen table.

Nanako spots the note and clutches her sister's hand, both girls beaming at the simple message you wrote: "Love you both ❤️"

I want him to call me princess and serve me coffee as I type away on my laptop.

I want him to press kisses to my forehead and encourage me.

I want.... nanami

(With suguru on the side)

Nanami is the type of husband to memorise your skincare and haircare routine so that he can help you when you're too sleepy to do it yourself

nanami is a disciplined man, a creature of habit. he wakes up early, gets ready for work with precision, and leaves the house on time. but there is one part of his routine that he refuses to rush—those ten precious minutes before he has to leave, where he gets to hold you, kiss you, and remind you just how much he loves you.

this morning is no different. the alarm has gone off, but instead of getting up immediately, nanami rolls over, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. you’re still half-asleep, curled up under the blankets, but you hum softly when his lips brush over your shoulder.

“i need to get up,” he murmurs, though he makes no effort to move away. his hand slides over your waist, warm and steady, pulling you closer.

“no,” you mumble, voice thick with sleep as you nuzzle against his chest. “stay.”

nanami exhales a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you know i can’t,” he says, though he sounds just as reluctant as you feel.

“you can,” you argue, tilting your head up so he has no choice but to kiss your lips next. he does, soft and lingering, as if you’ve got him under a spell. maybe you do. maybe you always have.

“ten minutes,” he whispers against your lips, a reminder for himself more than for you.

those ten minutes belong to you. they always do.

his hands wander, tracing over your back, memorizing the warmth of your skin. his lips press over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, before returning to your lips like he’s drawn to them. he whispers between kisses, voice low and reverent.

“i love you.”

kiss.

“i love you so much.”

kiss.

“you make it impossible to leave.”

another kiss, deeper this time, until he hears you sigh against him, fingers curling into his shirt like you’ll never let go.

“so don’t,” you plead, and nanami’s resolve wavers. it always does when it comes to you.

“you’ll be the death of me,” he groans, burying his face in your neck again. “if i call in, it’s your fault.”

“i’ll take full responsibility,” you promise, and he knows you’re smiling even with your eyes still closed.

he exhales, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your lips before finally—reluctantly—pulling away. “i’ll come home early,” he assures you, smoothing your hair. “and then i’ll make it up to you.”

“you’d better.” you mumble, already drifting back to sleep as he tucks you under the blankets.

nanami lingers at the door for a moment, watching you, memorizing you, before finally stepping out.

but even as he leaves, his heart stays with you.

oops! all cats! 🐈

quickly drew this as i patiently await @pseudowho next ‘mrs nyanyamin’ installment

part one || part two || part four coming soon! tw: mentions of burns, grievous injury, death, suicide ideation, etc. post shibuya au. a/n. can be read as a standalone, but i'm doing this as a mini-series.

[09:14] . . .

nanami kento hates this.

he has been home for three weeks now. twenty-one days of stillness so thick it settles into the walls like dust. twenty-one nights where the air feels too heavy, too quiet, where time passes in a hush, like the house itself is holding its breath. three weeks of watching you move around him with tireless grace, every second stitched together by your hands—your footsteps, your touch, your voice, the only things that keep him tethered to the reality he can barely stand to look at.

you do everything. you do too much.

you help him eat when his fingers tremble, help him bathe when the act of standing feels like too much, guide him to the bathroom with a steadiness that makes his stomach twist. you clean him. you lift him. you speak to him softly, with gentle words and careful smiles, never letting your voice crack, never letting him see just how exhausted you are.

and he lets you.

not because he wants to. not because he believes he deserves it. but because he can’t do anything else.

what’s left of you, wherein you confront the life nanami kento has left behind for you to navigate through.

a/n : i was going to post this in parts but i didn’t want to compromise anything so here you guys go!!! one of the scenes was posted a bit earlier as a sneak peek so you might recognize that!

word count : 1.6k

prompt : finally getting everything you ever wanted only for it to be taken right from your grasp. angst with a happy ending.

disclaimer : english is not my first nor second language so please be patient! if you spot errors or typos, feel free to comment :) thank you!

the summer breeze passes you by as you stand, your hair dancing with the wind you overlook your alma mater’s campus behind you. nostalgia washes over you, memories of your youth that you so desperately tried to bury coming back.

approximately a decade ago, you stood in this exact spot with nanami kento, who, at the time, served as the light in your life.

you experienced all the horrors the world had to offer, but kento never once faltered. despite facing all those said horrors head-on, he remained kind-hearted, carrying out his tasks with a smile.

and you don’t know when you first started loving him, but it must be around your third year of junior high school when your love for nanami kento truly blossomed, manifesting in ways that, in retrospect, were not so subtle.

but kento was taught to be a gentleman through and through, and so his modesty translated into a sense of denseness.

everyone knew it except for him. your upperclassmen especially, noticed your favoritism and even made teasing remarks about it, but with nanami, it all went through one ear and out the other. he brushed it all off, claiming that your special treatment came from a place of familiarity, because you’d known each other for far longer.

and so began your little game of cat and mouse.

without even meeting him, you agreed to marry nanami kento without any expectations of future love, romantic or otherwise.

the pairing is advantageous for the both of you; you get access to the impressive nanami family fortune that has grown substantially now that kento is managing it, while he gets to enjoy a close association with your prestigious family and the subsequent educational opportunities that your children will benefit from. it's sensible and by far the best option you'd been presented with.

you've exchanged letters with him, polite and concise. you can read between the lines and see that he shares a disillusioned view of jujutsu society, but is more than willing to step up for the good of his family.

you weren't coerced by anyone. far from it -- your mother and father had sat you down and asked if you were sure, that they would understand if you wanted to take more time or to choose a different path for yourself altogether.

but you know the rest of society would not be so kind or understanding. marriage between two sorcerers, as antiquated as it seems, is how you survive amongst all of these competitive, power-hungry families.

from what you've read and heard about him, nanami will provide stability. he's progressive in his thinking, and so wont expect anything from you that he wouldn't be willing to do as well. you've learned that he's a teacher at tokyo tech, and has received glowing reviews; he'll be a good father.

and so on this misty thursday morning, you lay eyes on your fiancé for the first time as he slips a ring on your finger and promises to stay by your side forever.

inevitability- nanami x f!reader

tags: friends to lovers, salaryman!nanami, breeding, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, mating press, creampie, mild cumplay

cw: alcohol (all sex sober & consensual!), pregnancy mentions, rough but v v consensual sex, reader and nanami are both in their late 20s/early 30s

word count: 5.3k

a/n: in which your decide with your good friend of many years that it's time to get you pregnant <3 this has been festering in my brain and i know it's pretty different than what i usually write but ! here it is! ahh! sounds of me screaming!

//

"this is weird, y'know?" you blurt out, watching as nanami hangs up his jacket by your front door before settling down beside you on the couch. he keeps a respectful distance, resting his hands on his broad thighs and smoothing down the fabric of his slacks, clearly nervous. "this is very, very weird. like, weird at levels i don't think people have achieved before."

"i know," nanami replies diplomatically, as if he could be anything but excruciatingly aware of how unconventional this is. "are you having second thoughts? because i completely understand --"

you shake your head abruptly. "no, no, just ... thinking aloud, i guess. just getting used to this, because it's really ... um ..."

"weird?" nanami offers helpfully, and you turn to nod.

"weird."

because what else do you call agreeing to have a baby with your platonic friend of 10 years?