who knew parenting would be this hard? certainly not nanami kentodid.
before having a kid of his own, he had always thought parenting was not that hard. it was always his mindset that the child grows to be how it is with the way the parent teaches it, or how the parent is because kids like to follow and mimic its parents.
but since having one of his own, he has been proven wrong, countless times.
“yuuji, please do not stray far away from daddy.” nanami pleads his two year old son who runs in the park with much enthusiasm, unlike his father who seems to have no energy and heavy bags underneath his eyes. “yuuji,” tiredly the man calls once again, but to his ineffective attempt, the child simply runs straight to the water fountain.
the poor man sighs for what seems to be the fifth time this hour, and they haven‘t even been in the park for longer than thirty minutes. he contemplates on running after the two year old who amuses himself with the water or if he should set up the picnic mat first and then run after his kid.
he thinks, and thinks, and thinks, all while looking back and forth at the empty grass patch and the water area. then he sighs again. if only he had a second body then maybe he wouldn’t have to do this, maybe if he had a second pair of hands he wouldn’t have to suffer like this, maybe if he had, had a spouse—
“excuse me,” he hears from the front, already sighing internally for the millionth time as he readies himself to meet eyes with another parent who‘s going to strike up small talk he has no desire for.
but when he looks up, it feels like suddenly all his prayers have been answered by the gods.
his dark eyes look up and meet with yours, and my oh my can he not be more enthralled by the looks of you. “is this your son? he was running around with untied shoelaces and almost fell in the water.”
wow. nanami says to himself. not even listening to what you’re saying anymore, simply left speechless by the pretty person who stands before him.
“sir?”
“okay.” he monotonously says, forgetting that time is running and reality is pacing at this very moment, and not on pause. in the inside he does not know how to start a conversation, but in the outside he looks like he‘s glaring at you. and it does not help you nor him at all.
you swallow your saliva and nod, slowly settling down the child on the ground right in-front of the man and clasping your hands together. “right. well— uh.. i— i‘ve erm gotta go.. haha.” you awkwardly trail, unclasping your hands together and placing the free right hand on the back of your neck.
“and don‘t worry! i‘ve tied them back together so he doesn’t accidentally slip again.” you say before taking a step back and waving at them. “well, i‘ll be on my way. goodbye—”
“wait!” yet before you‘re able to step even more than two steps away, he‘s taking you by your wrist which causes you off-guard, not that you find it uncomfortable.
“thank you very much. yuuji can‘t swim, so that would have been unfortunate if you hadn‘t caught him.” he reasons out, hand still on your wrist as you close your lips in surprise; that‘s caused by the fact that he actually spoke to you.
“oh, that would have been, very bad.” you frown, thankful that you caught khari before he fell. “i‘m glad i caught him.”
“me too, i‘m glad you caught him.” nanami relieves, finally letting go of the wrist he held to ground you before him. “if you hadn‘t that would have been terrible.”
“how can i repay you?” he asks so, lips casually churning upwards to causing you to almost swoon. meanwhile the strawberry head child looks up curiously, not used to the way his father acts. and even though you’re swooning in the inside, you keep your composure to save yourself some face.
“oh, please, don‘t worry!” you shyly down turn his offer shaking your head lightly. “it‘s okay. i wasn‘t going to let someone fall.” you mutter. however, he shakes his head and insists.
“please i insist. you had just saved me from potentially paying bills.” he jokes, and you laugh.
“alright, since you asked so nicely.” you grace him with a sweet smile and he smiles back, heart skipping beats.
“well, i don‘t have cash right now. but if you want, you can join me and yuuji for a picnic.” he gesture to the child who now smiles so cutely at you, hand open for a wave, tiny fingers grasping at his father‘s jacket.
you swear your heart skips two if not three beats when he holds the basket and the kid in the other. you find it domestic and cute for a man like this to invite you with his kid. it makes you think of all the times you yearned to have your own little family and spend some time with them.
“is missy going to join us daddy?” the little child asks, looking sweetly at his dad who then looks back at you with a smile.
“ask her.” he winks at the boy, who nods in confidence and looks at you with a sweet smile.
“will you join us missy? me and daddy would love company!” he excitedly says, hands pointed to the basket.
you cannot help but bite your lip down and nod at the offer, accepting it with an excited heart and heated cheeks. “i‘d love to.”
“daddy! she said yes!” yuuji cheerfully exclaims.
nanami smiles at yours and yuuji‘s excitement, starting to feel his own excitement start to run in his veins.
that action of his causes your churned lips to grow wider as you inspect him for a good while before turning to the little guy then to him once again. “well, your little one. his name is yuuji right?” you ask. holding your hand out for the child to take.
“right, he‘s yuuji and he‘s two.” nanami confirms your unsure question, nodding away as he places his hand on yuuji‘s head, and the little one sneezes. you both stop, and nanami smiles awkwardly, kneeling down and taking out the napkin from his pocket and wiping yuuji’s nose. the act is cute and hearty, as you can tell, he is quite obviously the daddy figure.
“sorry about that.” he apologizes, going back up and meeting eye to eye with you.
“no worries.” you smile. you stand there in a few minutes of silence, before you remember something very important. “oh jeez, i almost forgot. i didn‘t catch what your name was.” you sheepishly admit.
“god, how rude of me.” he shakes your hand in his and you can‘t help but savour the feeling of all those veins and bones in his toned hands. they entice you in a way you‘d never thought that would entice you, yet you are not complaining.
“nanami, nanami kento.”
“i‘m (y/n), nice to meet you kento.”
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— this man is literally a menace. if he finds out that you’re in your period, he would totally and utterly piss you off. he never fears death, but deaths do.
he saw you hugging the pillow and gripping the bedsheets due to the pain you’re experiencing at the moment, he went near you abd comforted you. the moment he has his hands on your waist, he laughed, “if i squeeze you like this,” he squeezed your waist, “you’re like a human ketchup,” his voice was so normal, no laughing, just a normal voice.
you slammed the pillow on his face, “if you’re here to piss me off, go sleep in the couch! i ain’t sleeping with a useless boyfriend.” You said in an angry tone.
But in the end, he took care of you, and cuddled you when you were asleep.
— he may be not affectione in the outside due to the endless teasing he got from both of your peers, megumi doesn’t want to be disturbed whenever you two had an alone time. To his luck, your period started on both your your day off from missions. He really takes care of you. It was his duty after all as your loving boyfriend.
“‘gumi..” you lowly said in a soft tone.
he shited his eyes in you, “did tge pain go away?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, “i need cuddles.”
“But the pain y/n-”
“pretty please?”
from the cute voice you had, made him closed his book and cuddled you, “is this better?”
“better than ever, thanks 'gumi..”
“hmm, you’re welcome.”
— we love life and life is yuuji. he’s realkya sweet boyfriend despite getting ruined because if sukuna in him. but besides taht, he really did his best! the time you got your monthly period, he was right there with you, he even cooked you his meatball recipe just make you feel better.
“Mhmm! this really tastes good!” You said while muching the meatball. You took another bite, bht instead, you choked. yuuji immediately grabbed the water bottle and gave it to you.
'i was hoping you could choke and die.’
a dark voice popped ot right under his eye, yuuji slapped it but instead, he was too late and ended up slapping himself. Youblet out a giggle, “sukuna is so bitter, did he have a past lover when he was a human?”
'shut your mouth you lowly human, i have no time when i will slash your head off.’
— no questions needed for him. he was already a husband material what can we say. For the rarest time of his life, he took a day off. knowing him, he was a very hard-working mab who follows the rules and hates overtime. Just like megumi, he has his responsibility as a boyfriend to take care of his lover.
he prepared everything: heat bag, blankets, pillows, favorite snack, and himself. he would massage you scalp until you have fallen asleep. and sometimes, you and him will watch sonething on netflix, whether its your favorite show or the show that you both planned to watch together. even though no words were exchanged throughout the time, his actions are enough to tell you that he really cares for you.
“i love you, kento.
"i love you too.”
— being in a long distance, was quite hard for the both of you. he craves your touch, your whispers, and you overall. but things may have a problem when you had your perioid. he kelt call you, texting you constanly if you’re any feeling better.
He called you many times that you lost count.
“y/n! Make sure to take your vitamins and pain killers okay?”
“I will yuuta, trust me, i’ll be fi— crap crap cramps.”
and that’s whenhe get started to worry about you. “are you okay? Take a rest y/n, oh ny god, sleep, take a rest!”
“Im okay yuuta, don’t worry about me. this literally happens every month,” you reassured him. It was cute of him, worrying about you. Even though you can see him, but he was pouting, “i jut want you yo be safe that’s all”, he replied.
“When you comeback here, we’ll go on dates. promise?”
— this man is literally a menace. if he finds out that you’re in your period, he would totally and utterly piss you off. he never fears death, but deaths do.
he saw you hugging the pillow and gripping the bedsheets due to the pain you’re experiencing at the moment, he went near you abd comforted you. the moment he has his hands on your waist, he laughed, “if i squeeze you like this,” he squeezed your waist, “you’re like a human ketchup,” his voice was so normal, no laughing, just a normal voice.
you slammed the pillow on his face, “if you’re here to piss me off, go sleep in the couch! i ain’t sleeping with a useless boyfriend.” You said in an angry tone.
But in the end, he took care of you, and cuddled you when you were asleep.
— he may be not affectione in the outside due to the endless teasing he got from both of your peers, megumi doesn’t want to be disturbed whenever you two had an alone time. To his luck, your period started on both your your day off from missions. He really takes care of you. It was his duty after all as your loving boyfriend.
“‘gumi..” you lowly said in a soft tone.
he shited his eyes in you, “did tge pain go away?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, “i need cuddles.”
“But the pain y/n-”
“pretty please?”
from the cute voice you had, made him closed his book and cuddled you, “is this better?”
“better than ever, thanks 'gumi..”
“hmm, you’re welcome.”
— we love life and life is yuuji. he’s realkya sweet boyfriend despite getting ruined because if sukuna in him. but besides taht, he really did his best! the time you got your monthly period, he was right there with you, he even cooked you his meatball recipe just make you feel better.
“Mhmm! this really tastes good!” You said while muching the meatball. You took another bite, bht instead, you choked. yuuji immediately grabbed the water bottle and gave it to you.
'i was hoping you could choke and die.’
a dark voice popped ot right under his eye, yuuji slapped it but instead, he was too late and ended up slapping himself. Youblet out a giggle, “sukuna is so bitter, did he have a past lover when he was a human?”
'shut your mouth you lowly human, i have no time when i will slash your head off.’
— no questions needed for him. he was already a husband material what can we say. For the rarest time of his life, he took a day off. knowing him, he was a very hard-working mab who follows the rules and hates overtime. Just like megumi, he has his responsibility as a boyfriend to take care of his lover.
he prepared everything: heat bag, blankets, pillows, favorite snack, and himself. he would massage you scalp until you have fallen asleep. and sometimes, you and him will watch sonething on netflix, whether its your favorite show or the show that you both planned to watch together. even though no words were exchanged throughout the time, his actions are enough to tell you that he really cares for you.
“i love you, kento.
"i love you too.”
— being in a long distance, was quite hard for the both of you. he craves your touch, your whispers, and you overall. but things may have a problem when you had your perioid. he kelt call you, texting you constanly if you’re any feeling better.
He called you many times that you lost count.
“y/n! Make sure to take your vitamins and pain killers okay?”
“I will yuuta, trust me, i’ll be fi— crap crap cramps.”
and that’s whenhe get started to worry about you. “are you okay? Take a rest y/n, oh ny god, sleep, take a rest!”
“Im okay yuuta, don’t worry about me. this literally happens every month,” you reassured him. It was cute of him, worrying about you. Even though you can see him, but he was pouting, “i jut want you yo be safe that’s all”, he replied.
“When you comeback here, we’ll go on dates. promise?”
remind yourself to thank the heavens for rainy weather later on. sure, a week’s worth of laundry and muddied rubber shoes await your attention, but how could you? how could you manage to peel yourself away from where the bed dipped to adapt to your sleeping position, wriggle out of the blanket that had begun to absorb your warmth, and now shielded you from the cold?
the skies weep on your behalf. another body laying flush against your back, cupping you perfectly in the curve of their chest.
broken snores and limp hands are wrapped around your waist — a signal that they are still fast asleep, earning you free reign to turn and litter their face with kisses, smiling after each one.
it was quite funny, if you were being honest. the other’s face smooshed into one side where the pillow dipped and crinkled with a small pool of drool. their face was absent of any wrinkle indicating stress and it makes your heart swell. to be able to behold their state of vulnerability and calm.
it was moments like these that made you question whether or not you were even truly human. mortal. flesh and blood. you could’ve sworn you were fully engulfed by this lightness of being; all your humanly weight stripped off by the moment. skin and blood cowering away from you with each kiss and touch.
you lay on your back to look at the ceiling while rain play their song around you, drumming in disorganized harmony over surfaces. the curtain gently flaps to accomodate the chilly breeze, and birds rush past in search for shelter.
yes. you are in fact here. in the moment. in the flesh.
something shifts beside you.
their eyes meet yours, still droopy and puffy from sleep. you offer them a small smile while they slowly blink in the morning light and mouth you a ‘good morning’.
you playfully wrinkle your nose to complain about morning bad breath, earning a groan and even more stirring from the other figure. each giggle and hum sheds sleep away from the both of you.
it was moments like these where you hug them a little tighter, kiss them a little deeper, and hold them a little closer. you fear anything less than that will reduce either of you to a barely-present spectre.
you want to feel the rough pads of their fingers caress every surface of you skin, you want to savor the way chapped morning lips press itself against your shoulder, or how you both fit perfectly into each other in all aspects.
everything is sealed in them pulling you back flush into their skin, your hands curled into little fists in the smallest of spaces between you two. chapped lips press themselves on your forehead. familiar breaths tickle your hair. you can almost feel their steady heartbeats where your forehead rested against their chest.
hands find their way through the sheets to trace patterns on the expanse of your skin that by now, you swear ghosts of mandala designs litter your back. under your breath, you hum a thank you to the grey skies — for the moment, for your lover’s gentle heaving chest, and for being flesh and blood.
notes: i was scrolling through my notes app and found this little thing. i thought it’d be a waste to assign a specific character so i left it open, but you can look at the tags for some character suggestions too. take care!!
>> all words by aero 2021. please do not plagiarize.
he lightly but provocatively brushes his lips against your fingers when he insists that you put the candy in his mouth; and the way he takes you by surprise holding eye contact as he bites into the candy before pulling away with a smug, mischievous glow burning like fire in his eyes at the way you hurriedly clear your throat, and he just tilts his head while ‘innocently’ asking you, “are you alright?” or the way he likes leaning on the wall or a door frame when he talks to you, regardless of whether you’re in public or not. something about the lazy, carefree posture and the little tilt of his head while he looks at you does things to your heart. his eyes trail after you as move around the room or when you’re speaking to him and he can’t hear you well, he casually leans in closer to your lips to catch what you’re saying.
⤷Itadori
the way he can go from being an adorable, giggly mess to being hot in a split second. one minute, you’re play-fighting, him keeping you at arm’s length to avoid your tickling, annoyed but gleeful giggles and laughs escaping from his mouth, and the next, he’s boldly getting into your space until your back is pressed against a wall. or the way he lies with his hand behind his head as he lazily but intently watches you get ready for work in the morning or a night out with friends; his eyes are soft and fixed as they follow your every move. and when you ask what he’s looking at, he just shrugs his shoulders and says, ‘i can’t help it, you’re so pretty’ as he flashes a smile in your direction.
⤷Fushiguro
he has a habit of putting his hand on your thigh when you’re sitting next to him, it’s instinctual at this point. he places one hand on your thigh while the other lazily scrolls on his phone, or when he’s driving and you’re in the passenger seat, he drums his fingers on your skin to the beat of the song playing on the radio while one hand is on the steering wheel. or the way his hand on your waist or back but non-sexually. when you’re in his way or blocking his way to something or somewhere, he gently moves you by the waist, casually saying “excuse me, baby” his voice deep and so low that only you can hear it. he also instinctively guides you through crowds by putting his hand on the small of your back.
Nanami Kento closes the front door behind him and changes out of his oxfords for house slippers. The traffic was crazy, there’d been an accident on the 101, a Maserati collided with a Ferrari and the two drivers were hashing it out in the middle of – no, that’s a horrible story and even worse lie. He doesn’t even drive to work. He takes the Caltrain to his job in San Francisco every morning and takes it home to Sunnyvale every evening.
Shit, Nanami thinks as he tries to hide the evidence of his… offense. Can he cover it up with something? Maybe if he held his briefcase in front of it… No, that’s so obvious. It’s so… red. And big. There’s no way it’d stay concealed.
It’s not that Nanami is in any way dumb or easily frazzled. No, he’s quite intelligent and levelheaded and the fact that he works as an Associate at Goldman Sachs should be proof enough. It’s just that he strongly dislikes the thought of lying to you. Technically, he doesn’t even have to make up a story to explain his tardiness. You probably don’t really care that he’s – Nanami checks his watch while setting his briefcase down – an hour late home. But having a story would quell your suspicions about the true reason he’s late.
See, today his co-worker Archie was talking on and on about how he surprised his wife with a bouquet of fifty roses the other night and, well, Nanami felt inspired. He’s not typically one for large romantic gestures, so he thought that maybe he should step up his game and at least remind you of how much he loves you the one day he’s given a sign to.
“First, you gotta lower her expectations, y’know?” Archie says like he’s giving a pitch. “Make her think the conversation is gonna be far from romantic. Say something totally boring. ‘Hey, honey, I had a great day at work today.’ Somethin’ like that, y’know? Then you just whip it right out. Bam.”
Nanami looks at the pink peonies in his hand with a small smile. Happy marriage, the flower shop attendee had said. Hearing your footsteps leading out from the second-floor bedroom, he quickly places the red bouquet behind the living room sofa before rushing back to his original place by the door. At first sight of your figure descending the stairs, Nanami starts (perhaps too exaggeratedly) loosening his tie.
“Ken.”
Oh. Oh, this doesn’t sound too good. Pausing his movements, Nanami assesses the damage. Your arms are crossed over your chest and your head is slightly cocked to the side, and you’re shooting him an expectant look. To be frank, you look a little pissed. You’re not even smiling. This definitely isn’t too great.
“Honey,” he starts, flashing you a conciliatory smile.
“Did you know that we were supposed to leave for our reservation an hour ago?” you interrupt.
Reservation? It doesn’t ring a bell.
Oh, is that why… fuck.
Taking your husband’s silence as evidence that he’d forgotten, you let out a sigh and walk up to his frozen frame, stopping when you’re right under his nose. “Did you?”
Nanami looks up at the ceiling as he tries to recall anything about reservations, but his mind turns blank. Actually, he thinks as he furrows his brows, he can’t even remember what he did yesterday.
“No,” he admits truthfully, looking into your eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m really sorry but I don’t remember at all. Listen, I –”
And then, you laugh.
“I was just messin’ with you, babe.” Still giggling, you pull him in for a hug. “The reservation’s not today.”
Nanami blinks as his arms wrap around you. There’s no reservation. “You’re ridiculous,” he chuckles. “I genuinely thought that I’d done something wrong.”
“No, definitely not. You’re wonderful.” Lifting your heels off the floor, you capture Nanami’s lips in a short kiss. He eagerly responds, pulling you closer into his firm body. This is, without a doubt, Nanami’s favorite part about coming home. You. Always there, at the end of the day, with your sunny little grin and sweet, adoring eyes. A little piece of paradise.
“You are so much trouble,” he murmurs as you pull apart. You hum at that, unable to disagree.
“We do, however, have a reservation at eight tomorrow.”
He frowns. “I genuinely don’t remember making plans for that, darling, I’m sorry.” Nanami glances down at your face and notices your surprised expression.
“Me neither. I was hoping you’d be able to tell me something about that.”
Well, that’s odd. It’s not often that either of you forgets anything, let alone something as easily remembered as a dinner reservation. It’s utterly peculiar that you would both happen to forget about the same thing. Today’s turning out a lot stranger than he’d ever expected. “How’d you find out?”
You pull your phone out of your back pocket and show him the email confirmation.
Dear Mr and Mrs. Nanami,
Thank you for making a reservation with us at Gary Danko. As a reminder, your reservation is for two people at 8:00 PM this Friday.
If you have any questions concerning your reservation, please feel free to contact us. We look forward to serving you!
Thank you,
The Gary Danko Team
“This is… strange,” Nanami notes, studying the little screen.
“Very,” you agree.
“Should we cancel?”
“Shouldwe?”
“I –” Nanami’s stomach grumbles, putting a pause on your conversation.
With a chuckle, you slide your phone back into your pocket. “Never mind. We can talk about it during dinner,” you say, helping your husband out of his suit jacket. As the blazer comes off, you affectionately rub a few circles on his back, feeling his posture relax under your touch. Honestly, he works too hard. You always tell him this but he really should take a few days off and drive down to the beach – maybe with you, if he’d like – and forget about the world for a while. God knows he could use the rest.
Nanami hums in approval. “You go on first.” He kisses your forehead before gesturing at the briefcase on the floor. “I should put this away.”
The moment you disappear into the dining room, Nanami moves his briefcase onto the coffee table and brings the bouquet of pink peonies out from their place behind the sofa, this time holding them behind his back. A reservation neither of us remembers, he suddenly thinks as he strolls quietly towards the dining room. Truly odd. Tucking the thought away in his mind (there’s always time to figure out mysteries like these), Nanami calls out, “Actually, honey, there’s a reason why I came home late today.”
“I was just about to ask. What was it?” You’re almost done setting the table when Nanami walks through the archway with a bouquet of flowers almost as broad as his shoulders.
“Holyshit.”
He laughs, filling the room with its bell-like sound. “For the lady.”
Shaking your head in disbelief, you walk over and take the bouquet from his arms, cradling it like a baby. Each petal is fresh and alive and so vibrantly pink. It’s obvious that a lot of care went into this bouquet, and it only touches you further that your husband went to such lengths to guarantee you’d only get the best flowers possible. “Thank you, darling. What’s the special occasion?”
“No occasion,” Nanami says, shrugging. “Just that I love you. And I wanted to remind you that, even on days where nothing happens and it feels like we’re just going through the motions –” he takes your free hand and hunches over to kiss the ring on your fourth finger “– knowing I get to share every day with you gives me joy to look forward to.”
Happy marriage. It’s true and that’s all there is to say about it.
You’re unable to form words. Nanami Kento, the subtle, quiet lover, being loud with affection for once. An indescribable warmth spreads all throughout your body. “Ken…” Tears prick at your eyes as you set the bouquet down on the table and rush into his arms, peppering his face with kisses. “I love you,” you murmur in his ear. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you. Thank you.”
Nanami grins, cradling your face in his large palms. “I should do this more often,” he says, letting out a breathy chuckle when you nod instantly. “I’m sorry. I’ll work on – ” You cut him off with a slow but eager kiss, snaking your arms around his neck and tugging him closer to deepen it. If Nanami had been surprised by your interruption he doesn’t show it – his lips, soft and plump, move in complete synchronization with yours. He tastes like tea and honey and he smells like he always does, of wood and spice and the beach. It’s intoxicating and completely dangerous how irresistible he is and you can’t get enough of him.
The truth is, every real kiss with Nanami feels like the first. And you can never get enough. But you are running out of air, so you break the kiss first and rest your forehead against his, feeling his hot breath fan across your cheeks.
“You’re perfect,” you whisper, stroking his cheek with the pad of your thumb. “I wouldn’t want anyone else as my husband.”
Nanami quirks one corner of his mouth up and covers your hand with his, turning his head to kiss its palm. “If I had another life to live after this one, I’d marry you in that one, too.”
A prolonged growl from Nanami’s stomach interrupts your sweet moment.
“I think your stomach objects.”
“Maybe we should shove something down it, like dinner.”
Grinning, you slip out of your husband’s reach and beckon him to follow you into the kitchen.
“This salmon is delicious,” Nanami remarks, taking another bite off his fork.
“Thank you,” you beam. “I found a recipe while I was at work today and thought I’d try it out. Honey garlic salmon. My life is forever changed and so is yours, by extension. You’re welcome.”
Nanami chuckles, ready to respond with a dry comment about ‘having no choice,’ but then that odd email you’d shown him earlier resurfaces in his mind. “Speaking of changes. Should we cancel that Gary Danko reservation?”
You hum, thinking back to the letter as you chew. It seems like the most logical thing to do. After all, neither of you remembers making the reservation. The ambiguity surrounding its existence is unsettling enough to warrant cancellation, but something in you just wants to see what might happen. Swallowing your food, you say, “Don’t you think it’s strange that it has our names on it? I think we should consider going.”
“What if it’s a scam?”
“Then we go home, order Indian takeout, and watch a war documentary until we both fall asleep.”
Unconvinced, Nanami sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, the navy fabric of his button-up tightening around his muscles. “We should call them first, figure out if they know anything.”
“You’re right,” you say, and then you pause before adding, “And if they don’t?”
You’re done speaking but Nanami knows that sentence isn’t finished, and that the other unspoken half is: can we still go? The truth is – and he’s told you many times – that your unpredictability is the most predictable thing about you. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, eyes darting across your face as he contemplates his answer.
It’s not that Nanami is an overprotective husband or needlessly suspicious of every odd thing in life. It’s that he somehow cannot remember a single second of his life before today, the same day this email arrived. To be more accurate, he feels like he has those memories inside him. Somewhere, deep in his brain, he vaguely remembers what things like a “fifth birthday” or “first wedding anniversary” look like. They just feel out-of-reach. Regardless, he’s absolutely certain that things aren’t exactly right. But you look so excited and utterly unaware of his predicament, so it must be something only he’s experiencing and he doesn’t want to burden you with this problem.
“If you really want to go, then we’ll go,” Nanami concludes, taking a sip of his wine. “After all, the wife…”
“… is always right,” you finish for him. “Well, sometimes the husband is, too, but in this specific context, for unspecified reasons, the wife is most definitely correct.” The grin on your face almost puts his worries to rest.
(Almost.)
You call Gary Danko after dinner and they confirm your reservation.
“Sorry if this sounds, um, weird, but would you mind reminding me when we made this reservation?” you ask, walking in circles around the kitchen.
“Not at all!” Some typing noises travel through the receiver before the man you were talking to says, “Actually, you didn’t make the reservation.”
You make eye contact with Nanami who’s lightly rinsing the plates from dinner. “Pardon?”
“No, it was a Miss Amanda Priestly who called us and reserved the table for you two days ago on October 31st. Does that name sound familiar?”
Nanami raises his brows. That’s your boss.
“Um, yeah. I know her, thank you,” you say, frowning. What on earth is your boss doing reserving tables at Michelin-rated restaurants for you and your husband?
“She left a message, too, in case you were, quote, ‘confused,’ unquote. She says, ‘Mimsy, thank you for your help on the Modish Winter look book. Dinner is on me. Kisses, AP.’”
And suddenly, everything falls into place. All those late nights you spent analyzing old trends and predicting the next season’s rush into your memory. For a month, you pretty much lived in your office down the hall from your editor-in-chief. You barely even had time to sleep. It makes sense that Amanda would show her thanks for the effort you put into the project, but you hadn’t expected her to. After all, she’s Amanda Priestly. She still calls you Mimsy instead of your real name.
“Oh, of course!” you laugh, looking over at Nanami. He sends you a curious look before putting the rinsed plates into the dishwasher. “Thank you for your help.”
“My pleasure.”
The call ends and you tuck your phone in your pocket as you say, “Mystery solved.”
“Hmm,” Nanami says, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. “The Modish Winter Look Book. For some reason, I don’t remember you working on that.” In fact, he doesn’t remember you working at a magazine company at all, although he can’t put his finger on what job he used to think you had. What is going on?
“Really?” you ask, reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers together. “You don’t remember that time I ran into our office with four different tweed blazers and asked which one looked the most wintery?”
Nanami furrows his brows as a memory comes back to him. It was a sunny morning in early November when you ran into the home office with two blazers draped over each arm and forced him to rank them based on how well they exuded “winter energy.” Truthfully, he had no idea what he was doing, just that the one with more blue seemed most appropriate for wintertime.
“I just remembered,” he says, a look of amused confusion coming over his features. Today has been so strange. “Did the blue blazer make it to the final look?”
“One moment,” you say, disappearing into the living room and returning with an advanced, rough copy of Modish’s Winter Fashion Edition. “It’s not out yet, but…” you trail off as you flip through the pages, pointing when you get to the one you were looking for “… here’s your contribution to the magazine.”
The blue blazer, in all its glory, smack dab in the middle of the section that says “TRENDS TO SAY GOODBYE TO.”
“Ouch.”
“Well, you predicted something,” you giggle, placing a hand on his chest. “Fashion might be your calling, Ken.”
synopsis: reports of nanami kento’s death have been greatly exaggerated. well, not exactly. they’re true – he did die.you saw him disintegrate into ashes with your own eyes. but now he’s alive… and kicking it in the suburbs of sunnyvale, california. with neither of you able to recall the events leading up to this bizarre scenario, you’ll have to navigate through suburbia, the ups and downs of married life, and even more surprises in total darkness.
or will you?
tag(s):loose wandavision!au, married life aww, domestic bliss, humor, angst, fluff, chicken soup for the soul, i’m sure i’ll think of more later, possible multi-chap
Your eyes were glued to your coworker; face stone serious and fingers diligently typing away.
Frowning, you push your head onto your outstretched arms. He had you in an iron grip and he didn’t even know it. You put so much effort into making him take notice of you; changing your makeup and hair almost every week, making sure your clothes advantaged your body in the absolute best way possible.
Everyone noticed. Everyone complimented and threw clever flirts your way. Everyone wanted to talk to you, find out your opinion, everyone wanted you to take notice of them.
Everyone but him.
“Do you have last week’s report?” His voice made shivers run down your spine, yet the feeling was bittersweet, the lack of a name at the end of his request making tears well up in the corners of your eyes.
You blinked and lifted your head “Yeah,” you replied curtly “Give me a minute.”
Letting out a sigh, the blonde leaned back in his chair for a moment. You stared, bathing your eyes in the absolute sight of him, the laboured groan that followed making your very core tighten.
Inhaling, you bit down on your lip as you looked through files “Here it is,” your fingers brushed against his as you passed the folder. He seemed to pause for a moment, making your breath practically disappear, before nodding and giving a small thank you.
Leaning forward once more, you wanted to scream; why can’t you want me?
“That hairclip,”
his voice moved through your stupor.
“is really practical.”
It was a simple compliment (if you could call that a compliment), but it made your heart ready to burst.
And a few weeks later, when inevitably asked about the consistency of that specific hairclip in your outfits, you who changed constantly, you shrugged “It’s just…practical.” you almost sighed out, glancing at your coworker; his face stone serious, fingers diligently typing away.
you didn’t mind night shifts; they’re quiet, not many people to serve, and the ones that did enter didn’t give you much trouble. Customers were mostly limited to salarymen working in the large skyscraper next door. Shuffling in at late hours in the evening, eyebags painfully prominent and answers curt. They never stayed for very long, you’d see them for a week, two, three at the very most after which they would simply not come any more.
you didn’t blame them.
there was one person, however, who had been showing up every night at the exact same hour since the day you first started. The two of you seemed to have had your first shift on that exact same day. He could tell from the way your face scrunched up when trying to figure out why the machine didn’t scan his instant meal and how to apply the discount he had given you the coupon for. He was patient, not rushing and biding you to take your time.
since then, at 2 am every night for the past month, you would have his usual order ready for him to pick up at the till. The time saved looking for the items, he would spend making idle conversation with you. His voice was comforting and he never seemed to say things just for the sake of saying them. The fact that he was easy on the eyes was just another bonus.
you had started to wait for him to come, looking at the clock, heart pounding as the hours slowly passed. you’d look in the mirror under the desk at 1:40, making sure everything was in place, tucking away stray strands and assuming a nonchalant position. but he could tell, you knew he could and yet, apart from a gentle knowing smile he never brought it up.
the sound of the bell made you almost jump.
“hello.”
the always comforting voice rang out throughout the store, steps hurriedly moving towards the till. you stood to your feet and gave him a smile “rough day huh?”
he sighed, pulling the leather wallet from his back pocket “it’s not good to be doing so many night shifts, you know.” he muttered, counting the coins.
shrugging, you scanned his items and opened the till “pot calling the kettle.” his fingers brushed against the palm of your hand as he handed you the money, his ever observant eyes catching the light flush that spread across your cheeks as they did.
“I can say that now,” he paused for a moment, measuring his words “it’s my last shift.”
the words seemed to hit you harder than acknowledged, the only sound in the store being the crinkling of the instant meal and the flickering lightbulb your manager had promised to fix a month ago. You laughed, fingers shaking as you reached to give him his change “Is,Is,” steadying your voice you lifted the coins in your palm “Is that so?”
the clatter on the floor made you swear under your breath, immediately rushing from behind the counter to pick them up “Sorry,” you mumbled, not noticing him kneel down beside “I guess I’m tired.”
looking up, you could see his eyes trained on you and you were suddenly all too aware of your quivering bottom lip, your burning cheeks, your eyes starting to fill with tears. Nanami had always been a comfort to you, making the night shift just that much bearable, you didn’t realise he had grown to be so much more.
but he had and he was somewhat happy his going away was making you flustered, it gave him courage to ask something he had been brooding on the entire week.
“Do you have tomorrow off?”
raising to your feet, you pass the change to him “What’s that?”
“You’re not working tomorrow,correct?”
“No, my manager said it’s been too many night shifts and I’m basically forced to take a break even though I told him I don’t need a break but he’s just so-!”
