"i told you not to lie down on the floor with them." you watched as your husband struggled to get little tsumiki to let go of his hair, while megumi decides on climbing his father's back.
"don't ya scold me, woman. i didn't ask for this."
"you definitely were when you decided to get me pregnant."
he doesn't reply, only glaring at you while still trying to get tsumiki to let go.
"pa... pa-paaa..." his little girl babbles, letting go of his hair only to grasp his shirt, putting it in her mouth and starting to chew on it.
he smiles in adoration, rubbing tsumiki's back with his large hand and reaching behind to prevent megumi from falling. he looks up at you, admiring you while you rub your swollen belly.
"y'so pretty, mama." he spoke, and the baby in his arms latches away from his shirt, looking up at her father and at you with her big round eyes.
toji looks down at his baby girl with a small smile, "mama's pretty, ain't she, baby? hm?"
"ma-ma..." tsumiki coos, flashing you a gummy smile.
"aww, my baby!" you sniffled, trying to get up to hug your baby and stop your tears.
"ah, ah. no. don't even." toji stops you, sighing in relief when megumi finally decides to get off his back, only to run towards you.
"mama!" megumi exclaims, resting his head on your belly. you smiled, ruffling his hair.
oh, how you cherished moments like these with your little family.
nanami's daughter went through an identity crisis at the age of four.
you were teaching her how to write her own name. she happily exclaimed that she can do it herself, after all papa taught her all the alphabets. she clumsily jot down her supposed name and showed it to you, looking very much proud
suethart nanami
you were confused but told her this was not her name. she looked up at you with confused big doe eyes, the color the same as your husband's
"but thats what papa calls me?"
you chuckled behind your hand and explained to her what her actual name was and how it wasnt sweetheart. she looked so devastated that you almost wanted to rename her.
"no, its sweetheart!"
later that evening, before nanami could even announce he was home and put out his shoes, his daughter went to him running
"papa! whats my name??" she asked very firmly, with arms crossed and brows furrowed
he raised his eyebrow at you to see if it was another tiktok prank where he was supposed to call her 'my princess' (hed gladly do that). you just shrugged your shoulders at him, looking very much done. he fondly huffed, things are always so chaotic with you two, but he wouldnt have it any other way. he smiled softly and patted his baby's fluffy haired head
"sweetheart, at least let me put out my shoes first-"
she cheered happily and threw herself in nanamis arms. out of instinct, he held her, with all the gentleness in the world.
"see mama?? i told you my name was sweetheart!!" she then proceeded to give you a 'i told you so' look
nanami, still very much confused and not out of his shoes looked at you, asking for help. you just sighed heavily
later during dinner time, you and nanami both taught your baby about real names and pet names. she got so pouty after she learnt that her name was neither sweetheart nor baby nor honey, it was taking nanami a lot of willpower to not her rename her sweetheart and bring back her sunny smile. but you reassured her that to you guys she will forever be 'sweetheart'. she lit up at your words and proceeded to happily munch her food
nanami blinked. well that was easy.
tho she had another breakdown when she found out that your name wasnt actually 'my love'.
˚₊‧♡‧₊˚ - since when did sukuna ryomen have a girlfriend? and why is she so cute (and absolutely perfect for him)? tags: basketball!au, fluff, swearing, sfw <3 masterlist
The gym lights caught on the glossy surface, a faint shimmer bouncing with every shift of motion. Tiny flecks of glitter sparkled like distant stars, the edges glinting silver against the stark backdrop of the jersey. A burst of pastel pink contrasted sharply, the soft hue radiating a kind of innocent charm that felt entirely out of place.
It was a detail almost too small to notice—yet somehow, it drew eyes in, an odd juxtaposition against the chaos of the pregame atmosphere. The gym was alive with the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished wood, players stretching, and the low hum of excited chatter from the stands. Sukuna Ryomen, lounging casually in the middle of his team’s warm-up drills, was the last person anyone expected to have such a thing plastered on his shoulder. But there it was. My Melody, a sweet little bunny holding a basketball.
Satoru was the first to spot it, of course.
“Aw, how cute, Sukuna-chan. Didn’t know you were into Sanrio like that.”
Sukuna turned, narrowing his eyes at the playful teasing in Satoru's voice. “The fuck are you on about now?”
Satoru just pointed, smirking as all eyes followed his gesture. "Your cute little stowaway there."
And there it was—bold against the red and black of Sukuna's jersey, a sticker of My Melody, holding a basketball positioned perfectly as if to dunk it. It was so out of place, yet it felt strangely fitting. Its innocence danced in stark contrast to Sukuna's menacing aura, and the sweetness of the bunny somehow managed to coexist with the intimidating presence of the player.
Sukuna glanced at the sticker and then smirked, barely able to suppress the grin tugging at his lips. His eyes softened just slightly, knowing exactly where it came from.
“Guess it’s not that bad,” he muttered under his breath.
No one knew who had put it there, but there was no mistaking it—Sukuna wasn’t bothered in the slightest. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more it made him smile.
“He’s so weird, I swear,” Satoru muttered, squinting across the gym floor as he slouched against the edge of the bench. The air around them crackled with energy, the squeak of sneakers on the polished hardwood floor echoing through the arena as players warmed up. The thudding sound of basketballs bouncing, the low hum of excited chatter from the crowd, and the faint whistle of the referee adding to the chaos all buzzed around them.
Suguru, already feeling the weight of Satoru's nonsense, pinched the bridge of his nose. He tried to focus, pushing away the mounting noise as he geared up for the game. "Satoru, shut up. He’s literally just smiling."
"Exactly!" Satoru gestured with both hands, his voice carrying over the cacophony like a loud bell ringing. “I’ve never seen him... like this. It’s unnatural!”
Suguru flicked Satoru lightly in the forehead, the sharp sound of his fingers connecting with the skin cutting through the background noise. “You’re lucky he can’t hear you, idiot. Besides, he’s allowed to smile. It’s not a crime.”
“It’s so creepy, though!” Satoru rubbed his forehead dramatically, leaning back against the bench. His voice was exaggerated, filled with playful disdain. “I’ve never seen him so... soft. Gross. Eugh. What happened to the demon we all know and love?”
The gym seemed to buzz even louder as the players amped themselves up, a couple of them tossing passes back and forth with fast, sharp movements that made the air feel electric. Sneakers squeaked and slid across the court, some heavy breaths echoing as bodies shifted into the final preparations for the game.
Suguru, however, was still fighting for some semblance of focus, trying to shut out Satoru's ridiculousness as his mind sought that familiar pregame calm. He tried to breathe in rhythm with the ambient noise—the rustling of the crowd, the sharp claps of teammates slapping each other on the back—but Satoru just wouldn’t let up. "It’s because his girlfriend’s watching today," Suguru said casually, as if the thought didn’t even require a second glance.
Satoru snapped his head toward him so fast it almost looked like he was about to knock over the water bottle on the bench. “He has a girlfriend? How do you know?”
“Yuji told me about her yesterday,” Suguru said, brushing it off as if it were nothing. He wasn’t quite sure how to process the idea of Sukuna with someone so... normal, so he pushed it to the back of his mind, letting his thoughts return to the game.
“What about me?”
Satoru’s stomach jolted, heart skipping in his chest. “Jesus—fuck, Yuji, you scared me!” he exclaimed, clutching his chest as if Yuji had just jumped out from behind him in a horror film.
Suddenly, Yuji’s face popped up right next to them, grinning widely with that unapologetically boyish enthusiasm. “Oops, sorry! I just heard my name and wanted to make sure you weren’t shit-talking me! Haha!”
The two seniors exchanged a look—Suguru, contemplating the comment, and Gojo, mildly entertained—but as usual, the latter barrelled straight past it. “Anyways, we were just wondering about Sukuna-chan’s little girlfriend. She’s here?”
The sound of basketballs slamming into the backboard reverberated loudly around them, rattling the floor beneath their feet as a player went for a dramatic dunk across the gym. The high-pitched swoosh of a net followed. Yet, the small chaos of the game only seemed to amplify Yuji's carefree nature, his laughter infectious.
He gave a single enthusiastic nod, expression lighting up with pure, uncontained excitement. “She should be! She just called to say she found a seat.”
The three of them turned toward the crowd, scanning the packed bleachers. It was almost impossible to pick out individual faces among the sea of fans, but they didn’t have to wonder for long why Yuji could find you so easily.
“There!” Yuji pointed, practically bouncing on his heels.
All at once, they saw you.
You weren’t loud or over the top, but there was something about you that drew attention, like a light you couldn’t help but turn toward. Your eyes sparkled with a warmth that didn’t belong in a crowd this rowdy, your face alight with unguarded joy. You leaned forward, effortlessly engaging the little girl beside you in a cheerful conversation, hands animated as you gestured toward the court.
The little girl giggled, clutching a handful of skittles you must have shared. It wasn’t just the candy; it was the way you leaned in, nodded attentively, and treated the child like her words carried the secrets of pandora’s box. The moment was so natural, so disarmingly sweet, that even Suguru had to admit he could see the charm.
“She’s just... giving away candy to kids?” Satoru blinked, eyebrows raised as though the sight was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever seen.
Suguru’s smile slowly turned into a gape, crossing his arms. “And apparently making everyone within a ten-foot radius feel like they’ve won the lottery. What a menace.”
“She’s adorable,” Satoru hissed, ignoring the sarcasm. “There’s no way Sukuna convinced someone like her to date him. I mean, look at her!” He gestured dramatically, nearly toppling off the bench.
“She’s smiling, not performing a miracle,” Suguru deadpanned. “Relax.”
“But that’s what’s weird about it!” Satoru insisted. “She’s the sunshine’s asshole, and he’s... I don’t even know what he is, probably just the asshole part.”
The three of them continued to watch as you apologized to a student who stumbled near you, even though it was clearly no fault of your own. You placed a steadying hand on their shoulder, offering a bright, reassuring smile that seemed to melt the poor kid’s embarrassment on the spot. A moment later, you turned back toward the court, your attention zeroing in on the players warming up.
Then, a laugh as melodic as an orchestra bubbled from your lips, captivating everyone within a 20-foot radius.
Heads turned—not just Sukuna’s, but several others, curious to see who’d spoken. Sukuna, however, didn’t seem fazed by the sound. He stood with his arms crossed, eyes scanning the court like a predator waiting for its prey. A mere glance from a teammate was enough to send them scurrying in the opposite direction, but when he caught sight of you, his posture seemed to relax just slightly. His gaze softened, and for a brief second, he didn’t look like a demon—he looked... content.
“Holy shit,” Satoru muttered, leaning closer. “He’s smiling again. Suguru, this is unnatural. I don’t think I like it.”
Suguru sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re just jealous someone actually loves him.”
“Jealous?” Satoru scoffed. “Please. I’m too fabulous to be contained by one person. It’s just—look at her! She’s pure, and he’s... him. Do you think she read his terms and conditions properly?”
Yuji, meanwhile, was grinning ear to ear, his chest practically puffed out with pride as though her presence was his personal achievement. “Do you get it now?” he asked, turning toward the two seniors.
“Get what?” Gojo drawled, still squinting at her like she was a science experiment.
“Why she’s perfect for him,” Yuji said simply.
Satoru opened his mouth, undoubtedly ready to argue, but Suguru cut him off with a raised hand. “You know what? He’s got a point.”
For a moment, even Satoru was quiet, his gaze drifting back to you. You were now laughing, your head tipped back slightly as the little girl beside her showed off her Skittles-stained tongue. The sound was bright, full, and utterly unrestrained—like you’d never learned how to hold back your joy.
Satoru sighed, flopping against the bench in defeat. “Okay, fine. She’s perfect. Whatever. But I still don’t get how he landed her.”
Suguru chuckled. “Maybe she sees something in him you don’t.”
“Oi, loudmouths—and Suguru. Get your asses moving.”
The voice that rang out was unmistakable: Sukuna, cutting through the chatter with his usual no-nonsense tone.
“Sir, yes sir!” Gojo saluted.
“God, I hate you.”
“Love you too, Captain!”
The gym was buzzing with the typical pre-game chaos, but Sukuna’s attention was elsewhere, drawn by the familiar warmth cutting through the din of the crowd. His gaze swept over the stands, and it didn’t take long for his eyes to land on you.
There you were—unmistakable. Even in the sea of faces, your presence stood out. The way your eyes sparkled when you caught his gaze, the playful curve of your lips as you gave him a wink.
Then, as if the universe had granted him a brief moment of peace in the chaos, you blew him a kiss. A simple gesture that made his chest tighten. He of course caught it effortlessly, bringing a hand to his heart in mock reverence, but it was the next movement that caused something unfamiliar to flicker inside him.
Without missing a beat, his hand dropped to his shoulder, tapping the My Melody sticker with a subtle grin. The gesture was small, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but to Sukuna, it was his unspoken reply to you affection.
The smile lingered on his face for just a moment longer before he wiped it away, a smirk taking its place as he stood tall, ready to head out onto the court.
Deleted scene:
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THAT WAS ALL BALL! OPEN YOUR GODDAMNED EYES.”
Your voice sliced through the gym like a whip, sharp enough to make heads turn. Conversations stuttered, sneakers skidded to a stop, and even the referee hesitated for a beat before remembering he was supposed to be an authority figure.
On the court, Sukuna barely reacted—barely. His stance remained firm, shoulders squared as he glared down the ref with the same look that had sent weaker opponents scrambling. But for a fraction of a second, his eyes flickered to the stands, finding you instantly.
His girl.
You were on your feet, fury blazing in your eyes, hands clenched into fists at your sides. The tension in your stance screamed protective, and fuck if that didn’t do something to him.
The gym erupted as the ref made it official. Technical foul on number 20 - Sukuna Ryomen.
“Oh, come on,” you groaned. “A tech? For what? Looking too scary? Boohoo.”
Satoru’s whistle cut through the noise as he turned to Suguru, his grin lazy but amused. “Oh, this is fun. You ever see someone go feral for Sukuna before?”
Suguru hummed, watching Sukuna carefully. “Not like this.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Satoru mused. “Usually, it’s just people going feral at him.”
Yuji snorted. “Right? And he’s actually letting her.”
Which was the weirdest part. Sukuna hated when people stuck their noses in his business. If this were anyone else—even a coach—he’d have shut them down with a glare and a stay the hell out of it.
But with you?
He was letting you bark at the ref, letting you take up space in his fight.
And even worse?
He liked it.
Whistles blew. The opposing team’s bench erupted into cheers, and the ref signaled for free throws.
“Bullshit,” you muttered, arms crossing tightly over your chest.
“Damn,” Satoru mused from the sidelines, still watching you with newfound amusement. “She’s got more fight in her than half the guys on the court.”
Suguru hummed in agreement. “And he’s actually letting her.”
Yuji grinned. “Ah, shit. She’s really gonna go off.”
And he was absolutely right.
Because as the opposing player stepped up to the free-throw line, your voice rang out again—clear, unwavering, and loud enough for the entire gym to hear.
“Oh, come on! You’re calling that a foul? What, is Sukuna just supposed to breathe and get penalized now? Maybe we should just wrap him in bubble wrap and call it a day!”
Scattered chuckles rippled through the stands, but you weren’t joking. You knew how people saw him—how they wanted to see him. A villain. A monster. A player too aggressive for his own good, a walking technical foul waiting to happen.
They didn’t see the discipline. The precision. The sheer skill it took to dominate the court the way he did.
They didn’t see him.
The ref shot you a warning look, but you only lifted your chin, undeterred.
“Terrible call,” you sang again, just loud enough for Yuji to hear.
“Yeah,” he called back with a chuckle. “But that’s just how it is for him.”
You exhaled sharply, frustration curling in your chest. “It’s not fair.”
Yuji just smiled. “He’s used to it.”
That didn’t make it right.
Back on the court, Sukuna set his stance, waiting for the rebound. He should have been focused—should have been calculating his next move—but instead, his gaze slid sideways, just for a second.
You were still standing. Still fuming on his behalf.
His lips curled.
The first free throw went up. The ball arced high, hit the rim—bounced once, twice—then rolled out.
The crowd erupted into noise, but you? You smirked.
“S’what you get for being weak,” you muttered under your breath, knowing damn well the shooter couldn’t hear you.
Sukuna did.
And though he didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge it outright, something about the way he held himself shifted. Shoulders looser. Jaw unclenched.
He wasn’t alone in this.
You had his back.
And for a guy who’d spent most of his life being the villain, that was a weird fucking feeling.
The second free throw went in, but it didn’t matter. The moment the ball was inbounded, Sukuna was a force of nature, tearing down the court with single-minded determination.
And if, after scoring on the very next possession, he just so happened to glance toward the stands—seeking you out, locking eyes for the briefest of moments—well.
That was nobody’s business but his own.
And yours.
a/n: he's a huge red flag but i can't help but romanticize him... anyways sorry its been a while
mwah <3
⠀ㅤ⠀ ⠀𖥻⠀ㅤ⠀﹫⠀kento⠀nanami.
ㅤㅤⓘㅤㅤfluff, reader and kento are married + have a daughter, f!reader as it contains mentions of reader going through motherhood + being called mother, reader is implied to have taken nanami as a last name.
"shhh, shh, it's okay.. it's okay sweetheart.."
it was originally kento that had encouraged you to leave for this trip. you thank all your lucky stars for your husband being as supportive as he was throughout your journey of motherhood. never allowing you to have to pick your career over your family or your family over your career.
he was your balance. your hold onto the ground when you felt like you were ready to float away.
he was your everything.
but now he had begun to regret letting you leave today. your daughter was 7 months old. he had told you, that surely she was okay to spend just two nights away from her mother. but it seemed she had grown near inseparable from her mother. all understanding for just a baby, but in this moment he couldn't bare having to hear his daughter cry further. he was ready to begin breaking down himself at this point.
he tiredly reached for his phone. shamefully calling your number at 2 am, fully aware you had an important meeting early next morning. how he loathed himself at the moment. grumbling out a "dear god" as the phone rang for a few seconds.
you picked up shortly, unsurprisingly. you had made it very clear to him that he should call you no matter what, whenever he needed if he needed help. he had assured you that it wouldn't have to come to that, so you couldn't help but smile when you heard your daughters wailing in the background.
"didn't need me huh?" he didn't even need to see you. he could practically hear your insufferable smirk, that he unfortunately missed more than ever.
"never said that. now please god, sweetheart, she's not stopped crying for a good half an hour." you laughed, still on the other side of the world you were being woken up because of your daughters crying late at night. it was humorous, and strangely sweet.
you requested a facetime, and he accepted quickly. you looked straight into your daughters teary eyes, and she looked back all bug eyed, her crying slowly coming to a stop. you didn't know if she was more thrilled to see you or the metal square shine a bright light in her face.
"hi baby, you're not giving your papa a hard time, right?" your daughter responded in little babbles. your heart warmed a little, and you could see your beloved grinning in the background. you hadn't admitted it- barely even noticed it in fact, how much you truly missed your little family. you needed this too.
you and your daughter continued baby-talking for a good few minutes until you could see her yawning, to which kento had placed a bottle into her mouth. she slowly began to fall asleep, drinking the now lukewarm milk.
you looked at your husband with loving eyes. he looked back at you with just the same fervor. like you were his whole world, like you'd hung up the stars for him. even as you were halfway across the world from him. he would never hate you for caring about your career. it made you practically ill with adoration.
"stay on call with me please? i miss you."
"i miss you too, sweetheart. of course i will."
"goodnight, i love you papamin."
"goodnight mamamin. i love you too."
⠀ㅤ⠀⠀©⠀all work written by ﹫amortxt. do not repost.
*cursing in cat* 🐈 (part 2 of this)
Absolute art omg
THE WAY YOU LOOK I UNDERSTAND THE HYPE, YOU KNOW YOU'RE JUST MY TYPE꩜ .ᐟ Gotta, gotta, get ya, 'cause you know just what I like.
cw ꩜ .ᐟ nothing, just fluff, but there is a dumbass ex, whirlwind romance sort of cliche, some suggestive stuff, but just me being a poetic dumbass mostly, i heard the song and i was like yes, so just enjoy.
a/n: fully inspired by mona lisa by jhope
Nanami Kento is a connoisseur of art. He is the greatest opponent of the philosophy presented by Plato, that art is an imitation of an imitation, and therefore not a true representation of reality. He believed that art has always been and will always be the direct and indirect reflection of reality. And if Plato were alive today, he would not hesitate to blurt it out in his face.
So after saving up for a while and doing an insane amount of overtime, when he found himself in Paris, all by himself, he knew exactly where he wanted to explore first and foremost.
The Louvre museum was somewhere he always wanted to explore, not vicariously through a digital screen or how Gojo flew out his girlfriend there for her art history project—he wanted to see everything with his own two eyes, and just get lost in there if possible.
He expected the crowd. Even when he scheduled his visit at an odd time, to enjoy some serenity in those masterful pieces from the past. He wanted to find the Venus de milo, the coronation of Napoleon, and of course, the Mona Lisa.
But instead he found you, standing opposite to the Mona Lisa herself, just staring at Veronese's wedding feast at Cana.
Even when he came on a weekday, during downtime, there was still a crowd in front of the mona Lisa. But honestly, he would get in a queue to watch you instead. Maybe frame you in his eyes forever, if it is possible. He never really got the hype about Mona Lisa anyway, of course it has its own significance with how the colors and techniques were so sophisticated for its time that it was thought to be irreplicable. But Nanami was not fascinated by the, now, dull colors of the painting. But he is sure if it was you that Vinci decided to immortalize in his painting, the crowd would have to be bigger, and the queue has to be longer. And the colors have to be more vibrant and acute. And even then he could not have captured your beauty.
But then again, you do not need such empty validations.
He never thought of himself as a person to think his type was a pretty face, if you asked him, he would say personality. Yet here he is walking up to the gorgeous woman of his dreams, and asking her if she wanted to stroll around the museum with him.
If only your, now ex, boyfriend took a second too long before saying he wants to break up with you to get with the younger hotter girl at his office; he would not have been backtracking from that statement in a panic when you told him right after that you got two tickets to Paris for your anniversary. And he would have probably been here standing next to you. But thankfully you threw him out of your apartment, threw everything of his in your home, on the street. And got a considerable amount of refund on his ticket, and made your way to Paris. Fortunately instead of your ex, this gorgeous stranger, who looked really dazed when he came up to you, and gave you company through the rest of your trip. All he said was a simple,
“Hello.” a gorgeous voice to match a gorgeous voice.
And suddenly it was as if you two were in a movie, about two strangers falling in love, in the city of love. You did every cliche tourist thing with him, to your heart’s content. From going to the Pont des Arts to the Eiffel tower. And doing things out of visiting historical monuments, like struggling to order a croissant and coffee. The days you spent with Nanami in Paris, became some of the most cherished memories you have created in your life. And you can only hope you get to have him around for more memories to create.
While you were too busy wallowing in your own head about never possibly seeing him ever again after this—Kento was becoming borderline obsessed with you.
The amount of time you occupied in his thoughts and his journal, was getting concerning. You simply have him bad. And he is ready to submit himself, nay, devote himself to you. Frame you in a picture, make a shrine out of it and call you his religion, his one and only.
By the third day of knowing Nanami Kento, you somehow ended up in the same hotel as him. With different room numbers to your name, you still somehow always ended up in each other’s rooms. At first it was petty excuses like the bed is better in your room, then it was the shower not working well, the lights in your room were too fluorescent. These were things easily solved by calling the front desk, but then it would mean these were real problems and not made up excuses.
And everytime your horrible ex tried to call you and ruin your mood, he was there for you with some bottle of wine he found at the grocery store down the street. Along with some variety of cheese and fruits, to make you a charcuterie board of sorts.
And you appreciated it all. The cheap wine, cheap ‘i heart Paris’ t-shirts, wild little flowers from some random park you two stumbled upon, to the diamond earrings he insisted on buying you. Something about them matching your smile too perfectly to let them be bought out by someone else. And you have never felt so at ease to be spoiled like so. Never with your parents, nor with any ex, or even friends. And it was all too much and too easy to get used to.
“Will I ever see you again, after this?” you were in his bed, fully clothed and in his arms, but never in your life have you ever felt so naked.
“You are asking the wrong questions sweetheart.” he moved his head just enough to take it off the top of your head, and came eye to eye with you. His one hand steady as ever on your waist, slightly bunching up the satin of your nightdress. While the other held your own hand in comfort, with the most delicate touch. As if you were some exquisite work of art that would crumble with just one thoughtless touch.
“What should I be asking then?”
“How can I look at you for the rest of my life instead?”
FIND MORE OF MY WORKS HERE
a/n: dividers by @/cafekitsune. header is Monalisa by Leonardo da Vinci.
big Plato disliker here. you can say i loathe him even. fuck Plato. first Nanami work woooo!!! also shit i made up from my own trip to paris like when i was a wee baby so it is def not accurate i think.
I LIKE MY GIRLS PRETTY IN THE FACE ART PIECE TO FRAME MONA MONA LISA YEAH I NEED YA
tag list: @cheralith @madamechrissy @gojosperms @gojao @cuntphoric @nanamiskentos @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @fushitoru @rriwyu @alygator77 @exquisink @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @indiewritesxoxo @gojosconsort @soupicidesquad @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @slayzzz @undercvrfan444 @miizuzu @getoistic @infinitatis-ink @theorphicangel @ricecake-mochi
nanami had picked up an endearing habit after getting with you. every week whenever he would meet you, he would bring you a bouquet — not those cheap, ordinary flowers from the supermarket but ones from an established florist shop. and with how many times he had frequented, the florist had come to recognise him, greeting him with a warm welcome when he came by.
nanami would pick out each and every flower for your bouquet. he would pick out the prettiest ones, those he thought that were nigh to your beauty — though nothing could ever be in his eyes. soon enough, he was helping the florist with the arrangement of the flowers, putting them in a manner he hoped you would love.
nanami's face would light up every time he presented you with a new bouquet. the sweet, adorable smile that sprawled over your face when he would give them to you made a budding feeling of amour blossom within him — just as how the flowers bloomed in the bouquet. he felt as if they bloomed even more in your presence.
nanami did not care for your protest regarding his newfound habit. you would constantly tell him that he didn't need to do this and that your home was now full of flora and you felt saddened whenever they perished. but he would simply tell you that that was all the more reason to buy more bouquets for you, so that your home would never be without them. and even though you would sigh in exasperation, the delighted glint in your eyes didn't escape him and that was all that mattered.
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Megumi receives a lot of gifts from Santa.
Warnings: Fluff
*Merry Christmas my loves, and happy holidays🫶 got a new game so don't expect a lot from me. also don't read too much into this, just enjoy the drabble!
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Christmas morning, the most exciting morning of the year. Little Megumi is too excited to see what Santa has left for him under the Christmas tree. His birthday just passed, but that day isn’t as exciting as Christmas morning. One present is nothing compared to a mountain of gifts.
“Santa came!” Megumi barges into your bedroom, waking you and Toji first thing in the morning. Toji complains, mad that his slumber is interrupted for nothing. You, on the other hand, are as excited as Megumi. You can’t wait to see his reaction to the gifts that Santa brought for him.
You drag Toji out in your matching pajamas, while the man complains about being exhausted. He had to keep an eye on Megumi last night, he wanted to make sure that the child wasn’t trying to catch Santa Claus at the wrong moment.
“Can’t he wait a minute?” Toji complains, but neither of you listen to the old man. The exhaustion quickly goes away when he sees all the gifts under the tree– That’s all his money. But he won’t jump to conclusions yet… Maybe it’s just some cheap gifts, nothing to worry about.
You two take a seat on the couch as Megumi runs to get his gifts.
“What does that read, Megumi?” You ask him before Megumi tears the wrapping paper to shreds.
“To Megumi, from mom and dad.” Megumi reads, and Toji’s eyebrows perk up. Megumi opens the gift to find a jacket, nothing too fun for the little guy who tosses it to the side.
“Hey! Let me see that!” Toji yells, and Megumi pouts as he grabs the jacket and hands it back to his father. Toji snatches it out of the child’s hands, telling him, “You could be a little more grateful.”
“Thank you.” Megumi dryly responds, as Toji reads the brand of the jacket. Like hell the gift was from the two of you, Toji is just seeing this exists.
“Expensive brand.” Toji’s eyes narrow before looking at you. You kiss his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder, a trick that always works to help him calm down.
“He’ll wear it a lot.” You respond, and Toji sighs. He guesses you’re right. Toji just hopes that not everything under that tree is as expensive.
“Santa got me a Nintendo Switch!” Megumi exclaims not even a minute later, and Toji’s hand goes over his heart. Oh, this is it. This is what’ll kill him.
“Santa?” Toji responds, slowly turning his head to look at you. You’re smirking, guilty as charged. To add more salt to the wound, Megumi yells,
“And some games!”
Toji had nearly forgotten that he hated this holiday– By the time he’ll financially recover, Christmas will roll around again.
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pick your player ft. cyberbully!Sukuna x f2p!Reader
cyberbully!Sukuna who absolutely loathes to admit it, but after just a couple weeks of coaching (which mostly consisted of him barking commands at you and explaining that you should actually, y'know, read the weapon descriptions before just pointing and clicking) you aren't half-bad anymore
cyberbully!Sukuna who hates it even more when he gets home from work to see your status as already in-game, making snide comments once he joins about you picking up bad habits from someone else while he's not around
cyberbully!Sukuna who feels a flicker of pride the first time your username slots neatly underneath his in second place, the notification flashing on the top of the screen for everyone to see when you manage to start a kill streak
cyberbully!Sukuna who relaxes back in his expensive gaming chair after the round ends, listening to your excited squeal over the voice call searching for praise, practically pleading for him to tell you what a good girl you were, pouting when all you got back was a low grunt of approval instead
cyberbully!Sukuna who thinks you must be lonely, considering how often you're online and in his messages, naive too since you gave him your number barely two weeks after he started helping you, claiming you actually liked talking to him
cyberbully!Sukuna who hasn't even seen your face yet but somehow knows the names of your pets, which coworker you can't stand and even your favorite flavor of ice cream, all because you never seem to shut up (although the silence without you had started to feel suffocating)
cyberbully!Sukuna who's seething when you headshot some prick in-game just for him to call you a cheater in the voice chat, a slut, spewing insult after insult that he'd never have the balls to say to anyone's face
cyberbully!Sukuna who barely manages to message you to mute him before he's opening the asshole's profile in a separate tab bookmarked to take care of later before opening the game back up, waiting outside of the other team's spawn to slaughter him again and again despite your soft protests in his ear that losers like him didn't bother you
cyberbully!Sukuna who doxes him after you fall asleep anyway
cyberbully!Sukuna who can't sleep, stuck listening to the quiet sound of your breathing through the phone, the call you forgot to hang up before dozing off, the quiet little murmurs of something unintelligible he can't make out (but he swears he hears his name in there)
cyberbully!Sukuna who is considering cutting his own dick off at the fleeting thought that it's cute you don't even shut up in your sleep, the tent in his sweatpants a traitor for straining against the band more with every little exhale from the other line
cyberbully!Sukuna who doesn't like you like that, can't like you like that, refuses to want you like that when he's never even met you - right?
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