โ ๐๐ข๐ง๐ข โ she/her โ 07 baby โ latina โ writer โ jjk, bsd & hq lover โ 1.4k followers โ update once or sometimes multiple times a day โ futbol player blog: @ochoaslut
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his chat was still flying by at impossible speeds, donations chiming every few minutes while he quietly focused on finishing one last ranked match. the glow from his monitors painted soft gold across his face, his headset slightly crooked after wearing it for so long.
you peeked into the room carefully.
he noticed immediately.
he always did.
without taking his eyes off the game, one hand reached behind him until his fingers found yours. he gave your hand two small squeezes before intertwining your fingers together, still somehow managing to play perfectly with his other hand.
chat exploded.
"WHO IS THAT?"
"HOLD ON..."
"THE HAND???"
"GIRLFRIEND REVEAL???"
kenma simply ignored every single message.
instead, he softly rubbed circles against your knuckles while calmly calling out enemy positions to his teammates as if holding your hand during a tournament-level match was the most natural thing in the world.
you smiled to yourself.
he always did this.
whenever you wandered into his office during a stream, he'd reach for you without thinking.
sometimes it was your sleeve.
sometimes your pinky.
sometimes he'd absentmindedly pull your chair closer with his foot until your knees bumped together.
he never acknowledged it.
he just...needed you close.
once the victory screen finally appeared, kenma leaned back with a quiet sigh.
"gg."
he muted his teammates before turning toward you.
"hi."
you laughed.
"that's all i get after six hours?"
he blinked.
"...i held your hand."
"you did."
"...the whole game."
"you did."
"...that counts."
you couldn't argue with that.
before you could answer, his headset picked up the tiny conversation because he'd forgotten to mute his microphone.
chat instantly lost its mind.
"HE SAID HI LIKE THEY HAVEN'T LIVED TOGETHER FOR YEARS."
"I'M CRYING."
"HE THINKS HAND HOLDING COUNTS AS QUALITY TIME."
"IT DOES."
kenma glanced toward his second monitor and sighed dramatically.
"...they're being weird again."
"again?"
"they're acting like they don't know i'm obsessed with you."
the words slipped out so casually that he didn't even realize what he'd admitted until a few seconds later.
his ears slowly turned pink.
"...forget i said that."
you grinned.
"too late."
his chat was moving so fast that he couldn't even read individual messages anymore.
he covered his face with one hand.
"...great."
you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss against his warm cheek.
"i'm obsessed with you too."
his entire face turned red.
chat somehow moved even faster.
"SHE KISSED HIM."
"WE ALL SAW THAT."
"KENMA IS BLUSHING."
"SCREENSHOT IT."
"CLIPPED"
he reached over and, without another word, clicked the button ending the stream.
the screen faded to black.
you raised an eyebrow.
"ending early?"
he slipped his headset onto the desk before wrapping both arms around your waist, resting his forehead against your stomach with a tired sigh.
"...they've had enough of me today."
you gently ran your fingers through his messy blond hair.
"and what are you doing now?"
he closed his eyes, melting completely into your touch.
"...logging off."
"from streaming?"
he shook his head.
"from everyone else."
after spending hours talking to thousands of people, answering questions, making jokes, and pretending he still had social energy left, there was only one place he actually wanted to be.
right here.
holding you in the quiet.
where there was no chat.
no cameras.
no notifications.
just your fingers combing through his hair while the room settled into comfortable silence.
to everyone online, kenma kozume had ended his stream.
my requests will be open for the next day or two!!
if you've been wanting to send something in, now's your chance! i can't promise i'll write every request, but i'll definitely read them all. please make sure to check my rules before sending anything in. thank you so much, and i'm excited to see what you all come up with! โก
akutagawa himself would never willingly choose to sit outside in summer heat surrounded by screaming children and splashing water. but your daughter had seen a pool commercial on television three days ago and had apparently decided swimming was now the most important thing in existence.
which meant here he was.
fully dressed.
of course.
black trousers rolled slightly at the ankles, jacket still perfectly on despite the heat, dark hair sticking faintly to his forehead while he sat rigidly at the edge of the pool with his feet dipped into the water.
he looked painfully out of place surrounded by inflatable floaties and brightly colored towels.
and yet, he had not taken his eyes off you or your daughter once.
โgood job, sweetheart,โ you praised gently while holding your toddler beneath her arms in the shallow water. โkick your feet for mama.โ
tiny legs splashed wildly.
water immediately hit your face.
your daughter burst into loud giggles.
akutagawaโs gaze softened almost instantly.
not that he would admit it.
your daughter wore little blue floaties around her arms decorated with cartoon fish while her tiny swimsuit kept slipping slightly off one shoulder every few seconds.
she looked ridiculously proud of herself.
especially when she managed to paddle forward for approximately two seconds.
โlook!โ she squealed excitedly. โlook daddy!โ
akutagawa straightened immediately.
โโฆi am looking.โ
his voice stayed calm as always, but you noticed the way his expression shifted, subtle but warm around the edges.
your daughter beamed like sheโd just won an olympic medal.
โdid you see me swim?!โ
โโฆyes.โ
โiโm fast!โ
โhn.โ
which, from akutagawa, was practically overwhelming praise.
you smiled softly to yourself before guiding her carefully through the water again.
โokay, baby,โ you encouraged, โkick again.โ
more splashing.
more squealing.
more water hitting your face.
from the corner of your eye, you caught akutagawa quietly reaching for the towel beside him before holding it out toward you the second you walked close enough.
you blinked.
โโฆthank you.โ
he looked away almost immediately.
โyou had water on your face.โ
โobviously. iโm in a pool.โ
โโฆhn.โ
your daughter suddenly grabbed onto the edge near him, tiny hands reaching toward his sleeve.
โdaddy come swim too.โ
akutagawa visibly stiffened.
โno.โ
โwhy?โ
โโฆi dislike pools.โ
you snorted softly. โyou dislike taking the jacket off.โ
silence.
your daughter gasped dramatically like sheโd discovered a terrible secret.
โdaddy scared?โ
โi am not scared.โ
โthen swim.โ
โโฆno.โ
you had to bite your lip to stop laughing.
your daughter, unfortunately, inherited your persistence.
โpleaseee?โ
akutagawa looked at her.
really looked at her.
at the hopeful little expression on her face and the floaties slipping down her tiny arms.
his shoulders loosened almost imperceptibly.
โโฆperhaps later.โ
which honestly shocked you more than if heโd actually jumped into the water.
your daughter lit up immediately. โpromise?!โ
โโฆhn.โ
that apparently counted.
she cheered loudly before turning back toward you to continue practicing.
a few minutes later you carefully loosened your hold beneath her arms just enough to let her paddle forward by herself.
โthatโs it,โ you encouraged softly. โyouโre doing it.โ
your daughter kicked harder.
water splashed everywhere.
but she moved.
small little paddles through the shallow water all by herself.
โdaddy!! look!!โ
akutagawa was already watching.
completely focused on her.
and for just a second, only a second, you caught the faintest softness in his eyes.
pride.
quiet and overwhelming.
the kind he never said aloud.
your daughter reached the edge near him triumphantly before grabbing onto his arm.
โi swam!โ
โโฆyou did well.โ
her face immediately glowed.
and then, without hesitation, akutagawa reached down carefully and adjusted one of her crooked floaties back into place.
gentle. careful.
like she was something precious.
your chest ached a little at the sight.
because no matter how cold the rest of the world thought akutagawa was, he had always been unbearably soft with the two of you.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
โ Live Streamingโ Interactive Chatโ Private Showsโ HD Qualityโ Free Actions
Free to watch โข No registration required โข HD streaming
hii! I just wanted to say welcome back! :D Those classes must have been hard and draining, so i'm surprised you still have motivation, hehe. Not that I'm complaining, I could never. But, like, yeah, I know I porbably said this before, but your fics are really cool and I love them so, so, so much! and I love you (platonicly) too! even seeing you just interact with us is enough!
aww thank you so much, this honestly made me smile so much. ๐ฅน๐ค my classes were definitely exhausting, but i'm so happy to finally have some free time again. i've really missed writing and interacting with everyone on here.
and thank you for all your kind words about my fics. it genuinely means so much to know that you enjoy reading them. ๐ญ i'm really grateful for all the support you've given me, and hearing that you're happy just seeing me interact with everyone is so sweet. i love you too (platonically of course!!) and i'm really happy to be back. thank you for waiting for me!! โก
AHHH I'M SO GLAD YOU ARE BACK!!! MAKE SURE YOU GET A GOOD REST โ(แตแแต)โ
AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!! ๐ฅน๐ซถ you're so sweet!! i've missed being on here and talking to you all so much. don't worry, i'll definitely make sure to rest and not overwork myself this time!! thank you for looking out for me, it really means a lot. โธ(๏ฝกห แต ห )โธโก
hi everyone!! i'm finally back!! (หถแต แต แตหถ) โน๐น i decided to come back because i was really missing you all and i missed being on here so much.
i'm finally free from my classes!! i just finished them yesterday, and it honestly feels like such a relief. i've finally gotten my motivation back, and i'm really excited to start writing for my fictional men again
thank you to everyone who stuck around while i was gone. i really appreciate all the support, and i can't wait to start posting again. i already have a few ideas i want to work on, so hopefully you'll be seeing new fics very soon!!
i might open my requests again soon, but i'm not making any promises just yet! i want to ease myself back into writing first and make sure i don't overwhelm myself. i'll let you all know when they're officially open
i'm so happy to be back, and i hope you're all doing well!! (หถห แต หหถ)โก
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
โ Live Streamingโ Interactive Chatโ Private Showsโ HD Qualityโ Free Actions
Free to watch โข No registration required โข HD streaming
my inbox is completely empty now. if you don't see your request posted, it means i chose not to write it.
with that being said, i'm going to be taking a break. i'm not sure how long it'll be, probably a while. lately, i've lost a lot of motivation to write for bsd, jjk, and hq, and i don't want to force myself to write when i'm not enjoying it.
i'll still be around, just not on this account very much. i'm planning to be more active on my other account and focus on writing for futbol players instead. i've been wanting to try something different for a while now, and writing for anime characters just hasn't been inspiring me lately. i think a change of pace is exactly what i need right now.
i also want to address something that's been bothering me. it became really frustrating receiving requests when my inbox are clearly closed for requests. it's stated on my pinned post, it's marked in red, and it's very easy to see. please respect my boundaries and take a moment to read my rules before sending anything in.
and no, telling me "it's my first time requesting" is not going to guilt-trip me into accepting a request. my rules apply to everyone, regardless of whether you've been here for years or five minutes.
thank you to everyone who followed my rules, supported my writing, and enjoyed my work. i appreciate all of you more than you know. โก
[ TAGS / WARNINGS ] โ wife!reader , sahd!reader , fluff , celebrity crush , jealous chuuya , married couple shenanigans , twins being innocent bystanders , comedy , reader being a menace
based on this request
it starts off harmless.
at least that's what chuuya thinks.
it's a rare quiet evening at home. you've finally finished work for the day and are stretched out comfortably on the couch while chuuya sits on the floor with the twins. ivan is determined to stack blocks despite possessing absolutely none of the coordination necessary to do so, while indie keeps abandoning her own toys in favor of climbing directly into her father's lap.
the television is on in the background, mostly serving as noise while everyone relaxes.
then suddenly, your entire posture changes.
you sit up straighter.
your eyes widen.
and you stare at the television with alarming focus.
"oh my god."
chuuya glances up from where he's rescuing a block from ivan's mouth.
"...what?"
instead of answering, you immediately hold up a finger.
"shhh."
he blinks.
"excuse me?"
"shhh."
"why are you shushing me in my own house?"
you don't answer.
which somehow makes it worse.
chuuya looks toward the television.
an interview is playing.
specifically, an interview featuring a very famous actor that you've apparently decided is the most fascinating person currently alive.
"look at him," you whisper.
chuuya stares at the screen.
then back at you.
then back at the screen.
"...i am."
"look at the hair."
chuuya slowly raises a hand to his own hair.
"i have hair."
"not like that."
"what does that mean?"
you don't answer because you're too busy watching the interview.
chuuya looks deeply offended.
for the next ten minutes, every attempt he makes to start a conversation is met with some variation of "hold on," "wait," or the particularly insulting "he's talking."
eventually, chuuya sets indie on his hip and stands up.
"you know," he says, "i'm right here."
"mhm."
"physically present."
"mhm."
"raising our children."
"mhm."
he stares at you.
you continue staring at the television.
"...are you even listening to me?"
"one second."
chuuya's eye twitches.
the problem is that it doesn't stop there.
what he originally assumes is a one-time thing quickly becomes a recurring issue.
somehow this actor is everywhere.
a new interview.
a commercial.
a movie trailer.
a magazine cover.
and every single time, you react like you've been personally blessed by the universe.
one afternoon, chuuya walks into the living room carrying both twins only to find you watching another interview.
he stops immediately.
"...again?"
you glance at him briefly before returning your attention to the screen.
"he has a new movie coming out."
"okay?"
"so he's doing interviews."
"okay?"
"so i'm watching them."
chuuya looks down at the twins.
"are you hearing this?"
ivan drools.
indie tries to grab his nose.
neither of them are helpful.
a few days later, things somehow get worse.
you're scrolling through your phone while chuuya folds laundry beside you.
suddenly, you let out a dramatic sigh.
"awe."
chuuya doesn't look up.
"what?"
"look."
he makes the mistake of looking.
it's another picture.
of the actor.
smiling.
doing absolutely nothing remarkable.
"...he's standing."
"exactly."
"what exactly am i supposed to be seeing?"
"look at him."
"i am looking at him."
"and?"
"he's standing."
you gasp in offense.
chuuya genuinely feels like he's losing his mind.
eventually, the teasing becomes unavoidable.
every time the actor appears somewhere, chuuya immediately starts complaining.
if a commercial comes on, he groans.
if you mention his name, he rolls his eyes.
if you happen to smile while watching an interview, he acts like he's been personally betrayed.
which, unfortunately, only encourages you.
"wow," you say one evening while scrolling through your phone.
"what now?"
"he looks really good here."
chuuya narrows his eyes.
"i'm sitting right next to you."
"i know."
"your husband."
"i know."
"father of your children."
"i know."
"the man who made dinner tonight."
you finally look up.
"you want a trophy?"
"YES."
the twins are unfortunately old enough now to notice when their parents are being ridiculous.
which means both of them are sitting on the floor watching this conversation unfold with complete fascination.
indie especially seems entertained.
every time chuuya starts complaining, she giggles.
which feels incredibly disrespectful.
"your daughter is laughing at me."
"our daughter."
"not right now."
the final straw comes during a saturday family day.
everyone is home.
the weather is nice.
the twins are happy.
everything should be peaceful.
instead, you're watching another interview.
chuuya lasts approximately seven minutes before finally standing up.
without saying a word, he walks directly between you and the television.
the room goes silent.
you stare at him.
he stares back.
"move."
"no."
"chuuya."
"no."
"i can't see."
"good."
you narrow your eyes.
he narrows his right back.
somewhere behind him, indie lets out a delighted squeal while ivan watches like he's witnessing a historic event.
"move."
"pick."
you blink.
"...pick what?"
chuuya points at himself.
then points dramatically toward the television.
"him or me."
there's a moment of complete silence.
then you burst out laughing.
actual tears start forming in your eyes.
"you cannot be serious."
"i'm completely serious."
"you're jealous of a celebrity."
"yes."
"you've never met him."
"that's not the point."
"he doesn't even know i exist."
"also not the point."
you're laughing so hard now that it's difficult to breathe.
meanwhile, chuuya looks deeply committed to his argument.
"that's my husband," you say finally.
"yes."
"the father of my children."
"yes."
"the man i married."
"yes."
you point toward the television.
"that's a celebrity crush."
chuuya crosses his arms.
you continue.
"i can never actually have him."
he pauses.
"...okay."
you point at him instead.
"i already have you."
the silence afterward is immediate.
chuuya blinks once.
then twice.
the fight leaves his body so fast it's almost impressive.
"...oh."
you smile.
"see?"
his ears immediately start turning pink.
which is honestly adorable.
a few minutes later, he's sitting beside you on the couch with indie asleep against one shoulder and ivan sprawled across his lap.
the interview is still playing.
you aren't paying attention anymore.
instead, you're leaning comfortably against your husband.
chuuya seems significantly happier now.
smug, even.
"so i won."
you immediately roll your eyes.
"that's not what happened."
"that's exactly what happened."
"you're impossible."
"and yet."
he gestures at himself dramatically.
"you picked me."
you laugh.
indie stirs slightly in her sleep.
ivan grabs a handful of chuuya's shirt.
and somehow, despite all the complaining he'd done for the past several weeks, chuuya can't stop smiling.
because at the end of the day, some actor might get your attention for a few minutes.
but he's the one who gets to sit beside you when the television gets turned off, and as far as he's concerned, that's a pretty easy victory.ย
if it hadn't been raining, neither of you would've heard her.
you and dazai are walking home after dinner, sharing an umbrella while he talks your ear off about something completely ridiculous. honestly, you've stopped following the conversation several minutes ago. you're more focused on avoiding puddles than whatever dramatic story he's currently telling.
then you hear it.
a tiny, pitiful meow.
you immediately stop walking.
"wait."
dazai pauses beside you. "what?"
there it is again.
another tiny meow.
your head snaps toward a nearby alley.
"dazai."
the look on your face tells him everything he needs to know.
he sighs.
"...no."
"there's a cat."
"absolutely not."
another meow echoes through the rain.
you gasp like you've just heard a cry for help.
dazai pinches the bridge of his nose.
he already knows he's lost.
the argument is over before it even begins.
a few minutes later, you find her huddled beneath a half-collapsed cardboard box.
she's tiny.
far too tiny to be outside alone.
her fur is soaked from the rain, her paws are muddy, and she's staring up at the two of you with huge frightened eyes.
your heart immediately breaks.
"oh my god..."
you crouch down and carefully reach toward her.
the kitten lets out another tiny meow.
that's it.
you're done for.
completely.
you scoop her into your arms, holding her against your chest.
the kitten instantly begins purring.
dazai points accusingly.
"see that?"
you glance over.
"what?"
"manipulation."
you stare.
"she's a baby."
"exactly. she's perfected the technique."
the kitten sneezes.
you look seconds away from crying.
dazai knows it's over.
the kitten has already won.
the plan is to take her home temporarily.
just until she dries off.
just until she warms up.
just until you can figure out whether she belongs to someone.
that's the plan.
the plan lasts less than an hour.
because the moment you get home, the kitten immediately curls up in dazai's lap and falls asleep.
you stand there watching.
dazai watches too.
neither of you move.
eventually he clears his throat.
"don't name her."
you look at him suspiciously.
"why?"
"because if we name her, we're keeping her."
he says this while gently stroking her tiny head with one finger.
you raise an eyebrow.
"right."
"we're not keeping her."
"of course not."
the kitten stretches in her sleep and presses closer to him.
dazai visibly melts.
"...she's kind of cute."
you burst out laughing.
the next morning, you wake up and immediately notice dazai isn't in bed.
after searching the apartment, you find him on the couch.
the kitten is asleep on his chest.
he's lying perfectly still.
you stare.
he stares back.
"how long have you been awake?"
"about an hour."
"why didn't you move?"
he glances down at the sleeping kitten as though the answer should be obvious.
"she looked comfortable."
you just start laughing.
because this is the same man who once complained dramatically about carrying groceries for five minutes.
yet somehow he's willing to remain trapped under six pounds of cat indefinitely.
from that point on, the kitten becomes attached to him.
unreasonably attached.
she follows him everywhere.
when he goes to the kitchen, she's right behind him.
when he sits down, she's immediately climbing into his lap.
when he leaves a room, she runs after him like she's afraid he'll disappear.
you've never seen a cat pick a favorite person so quickly.
unfortunately for dazai, he's secretly thrilled about it.
you catch him talking to her constantly.
sometimes you'll walk into a room and find him having entire conversations with the kitten.
"that's a very interesting point."
the kitten meows.
"i agree."
you stand in the doorway.
"...who are you talking to?"
dazai looks offended.
"her."
the kitten meows again.
"exactly."
you decide not to ask.
weeks pass.
then months.
and somewhere along the way, the kitten quietly becomes part of the family.
there isn't some dramatic moment where you officially decide to keep her.
it just... happens.
one day there are toys scattered around the apartment.
there's cat food in the kitchen.
there's a scratching post in the corner.
and there are approximately five hundred photos of her on both of your phones.
you walk into the living room one afternoon and find dazai carrying her around wrapped in a blanket.
like a baby.
a literal baby.
the kitten looks completely content.
"you said we weren't keeping her."
"we're not."
"you bought her a custom bed."
"irrelevant."
"you call her princess."
"also irrelevant."
you stare at him.
he stares back.
the kitten yawns.
"we're definitely keeping her."
"...probably."
months later, you're curled up beside him on the couch while a movie plays quietly in the background.
the kitten, who is no longer particularly tiny, lies sprawled across both of your laps, completely asleep.
her paws twitch occasionally as she dreams.
you smile and reach down to pet her.
"remember when we said this was temporary?"
dazai looks down at the cat.
then at you.
then back at the cat.
"to be fair..."
"hm?"
"i never stood a chance."
you laugh softly.
because he's right.
neither of you did.
the kitten chooses that exact moment to roll onto her back and demand attention despite being half asleep.
dazai immediately starts petting her.
without hesitation.
without thinking.
like it's the most natural thing in the world.
you watch the two of them for a moment before resting your head on his shoulder.
your heart feels warm.
full.
because one rainy night, a tiny stray kitten had wandered into your lives.
and somehow managed to convince both of you that she belonged there all along.
the first sign that something was different wasn't the nausea.
it wasn't the exhaustion either.
it was chuuya.
or more specifically, the fact that suddenly everything about him smelled too strong.
normally, it was comforting. his cologne, his shampoo, the clean scent of freshly washed clothes, sometimes even the faint traces of wine if he'd been out with coworkers. after years together, those smells had become synonymous with home.
except now they made you feel sick.
the first time it happened, you genuinely thought you were losing your mind.
chuuya had sat down beside you on the couch after finishing some chores around the apartment. usually, you'd immediately lean against him without even thinking about it. it was practically muscle memory at this point.
instead, the second he sat down, your stomach rolled violently.
you actually scooted away before you could stop yourself.
chuuya blinked.
"...you okay?"
"yeah."
you were not okay.
the scent of his cologne suddenly felt like someone had dumped the entire bottle directly under your nose.
things only got worse after the pregnancy was confirmed.
and somehow became even worse again after learning there were two babies instead of one.
according to the doctor, heightened smell sensitivity was completely normal.
according to you, it felt like torture.
one morning, chuuya walked into the kitchen carrying a fresh cup of coffee.
you gagged instantly.
he froze mid-step.
"...what?"
"the coffee."
he looked down at the mug.
"...it's coffee."
"i know."
"you literally drink coffee every morning."
"i know."
he frowned.
"then why are you looking at it like it committed a crime?"
you covered your mouth immediately.
"please get it away from me."
after that, he stopped questioning things.
instead, he started keeping a mental list.
foods that made you sick.
candles that made you sick.
cleaning supplies that made you sick.
certain soaps.
certain shampoos.
certain foods.
certain laundry detergents.
the list somehow changed every week, which only made everything more confusing.
but eventually, he adapted.
because that's what chuuya always did.
he adapted.
the problem was that there was one thing he couldn't exactly remove from the apartment.
himself.
some days were manageable.
other days weren't.
especially after work events.
especially after dinners with executives.
especially after nights where he came home smelling faintly of expensive wine and cigarette smoke from sitting around people who never seemed capable of holding a meeting without both.
those nights were the worst.
one evening, chuuya came home after meeting with several executives.
he wasn't drunk.
barely even tipsy.
just relaxed.
he stepped through the apartment door carrying takeout and immediately smiled when he saw you sitting on the couch.
"hey."
you looked up.
and immediately regretted it.
wine.
cigarettes.
cologne.
the cold outdoor air lingering on his coat.
all of it hit at once.
your stomach turned so violently you had to stand immediately.
chuuya stopped mid-step.
"...what happened?"
"don't come closer."
he froze.
completely.
"...what?"
"don't."
the concern on his face appeared instantly.
"baby?"
you pressed your hand over your nose.
"you smell."
for a second, he just stared.
"...i smell?"
"yes."
"bad?"
you immediately shook your head.
"not bad."
"then what's wrong?"
the frustration that had been building for weeks suddenly felt overwhelming.
your eyes burned.
"it's everything."
chuuya looked confused.
"everything?"
"the alcohol."
"...okay."
"the smoke."
"...okay."
"your cologne."
"...okay."
"your shampoo."
that one made him blink.
"my shampoo?"
"i can smell all of it."
for a moment, neither of you spoke.
then chuuya slowly looked down at himself.
"...i showered this morning."
despite everything, you laughed.
it came out as a miserable little sound, but it was still a laugh.
and somehow that made him relax slightly.
because now he understood.
this wasn't you being annoyed with him.
you genuinely felt awful.
the real problem came later that night.
you were exhausted.
completely exhausted.
but every time you started drifting toward sleep, chuuya would shift closer in bed.
and every single time it happened, the smell hit you again.
his shampoo.
his detergent.
his skin.
none of it was bad.
that was what made it so frustrating.
they were normal smells.
smells you usually loved.
but now they made your stomach twist.
after nearly an hour of unsuccessfully trying to sleep, you finally sat upright.
chuuya woke almost immediately.
years of sleeping beside you had made him sensitive to every little movement.
"...what's wrong?"
you covered your face.
for a moment, you couldn't answer.
because the request felt awful.
finally, you forced yourself to say it.
"can you sleep somewhere else tonight?"
the silence afterward was immediate.
and painful.
you looked over.
the hurt on his face appeared before he could hide it.
not anger.
not frustration.
just hurt.
your heart broke instantly.
"i don't mean it like that."
"then how do you mean it?" he asked quietly.
you swallowed hard.
"i can't sleep."
his expression softened slightly.
"because of the smells?"
you nodded.
"everything smells too strong."
your voice cracked despite your best efforts.
"every time you get close, i feel sick."
the second the words left your mouth, tears started forming.
which only made you feel worse.
because now you were crying over your husband smelling like himself.
pregnancy was humiliating.
the moment chuuya noticed the tears, any lingering hurt disappeared.
immediately.
he sat up fully.
"hey."
you wiped your face.
"i miss cuddling you."
the confession slipped out before you could stop it.
"and every time you get close i feel sick and i hate it."
something in his expression softened completely.
all the way down.
"oh."
you laughed weakly.
"i know it sounds stupid."
"it doesn't."
"i literally started crying because you smell like yourself."
that actually earned a laugh from him.
small. quiet. but real.
"okay, that's a little funny."
"chuuya."
"sorry."
you ended up laughing too.
which only made you cry harder.
which somehow made both of you laugh again.
eventually, once things settled down, chuuya reached over carefully.
not touching you yet.
making sure you were comfortable first.
"do you want me to sleep on the couch?"
you nodded miserably.
"just for tonight."
he didn't hesitate.
"okay."
immediately, guilt flooded your chest.
"i'm sorry."
"stop apologizing."
"but-"
"you're growing two babies."
his voice was gentle but firm.
certain.
like there was no room for argument.
"you don't need to apologize because your body is doing weird things."
your eyes burned again.
"two babies," he repeated quietly, still sounding amazed every time he said it.
then he smiled softly.
"they've already figured out how to steal my spot in bed."
that earned another watery laugh from you.
"idiot."
"that's me."
later that night, long after chuuya had moved to the couch, you still couldn't sleep.
the apartment felt wrong.
too quiet.
too empty.
eventually, you padded into the living room.
chuuya was asleep, half hanging off the couch with a blanket tangled around his legs.
he looked wildly uncomfortable.
you stood there for a moment just watching him.
then quietly walked over and draped another blanket over him.
the movement woke him slightly.
"...hey."
"hi."
he blinked up at you, immediately concerned despite barely being awake.
"you okay?"
you nodded.
then sat carefully on the floor beside the couch.
for a moment, neither of you spoke.
then quietly, almost embarrassed, you admitted,
"i miss you."
chuuya smiled immediately.
sleepy.
soft.
completely in love.
"come here."
you pointed at him.
"you smell."
"wow."
you laughed.
finally.
properly this time.
instead of moving closer, you settled beside the couch.
near enough to talk.
near enough to be together.
chuuya reached down lazily and hooked his pinky around yours.
[ TAGS / WARNINGS ] โ f!reader , fluff , established relationship , chronically online kenma , bookworm reader , opposites attract , slice of life , school setting
based on this request
kenma genuinely doesn't understand how you function.
the realization hits him at least once a day.
today's offense is discovering you've never heard of a meme that had apparently taken over the internet two months ago.
he's sitting beside you during lunch, scrolling through his phone while you read a novel thick enough to be used as a weapon. without warning, he turns his screen toward you.
"look."
you glance up from your book.
a video plays.
you watch it.
wait for the punchline.
watch some more.
then slowly look back at him.
"...i don't get it."
kenma stares.
"how do you not get it?"
"i don't know what any of that means."
"it's literally everywhere."
you return to your book.
"apparently not everywhere."
kenma drops his head onto the table.
across the room, kuroo is laughing so hard he can barely breathe.
lunch periods are probably the weirdest part of your relationship.
most couples spend the entire break talking to each other.
you and kenma spend half of it in complete silence.
he scrolls through social media or plays a game on his phone.
you read.
sometimes twenty minutes pass without a single word exchanged between you.
neither of you find this strange.
everyone else does.
one afternoon yamamoto walks past your table and slows to a stop.
"are you guys fighting?"
you look up.
kenma doesn't even glance away from his phone.
"no."
"then why aren't you talking?"
"because we're busy."
yamamoto looks between your book and kenma's screen.
then walks away looking more confused than before.
studying together somehow works despite the fact that your approaches are completely different.
you actually read the material.
kenma searches for summaries, online explanations, and shortcuts.
one afternoon you catch him staring at his laptop instead of the textbook.
"are you studying?"
"yes."
"that's a gaming forum."
"they're discussing the chapter."
you lean over.
they are not discussing the chapter.
they're arguing about character builds.
kenma has absolutely no defense when you point it out.
the library becomes an unofficial meeting spot for the two of you.
at first kenma only started going because that's where you always were.
eventually he claimed a specific chair near the back window and started showing up automatically.
he'll spend the entire time gaming on his switch while you disappear into whatever book you're reading.
to anyone else, it looks like you're doing separate activities.
somehow it still feels like a date.
occasionally you'll glance up and find him already looking at you.
when he realizes he's been caught, he'll immediately look back at his screen.
you never mention it.
mostly because it's cute.
one of kenma's favorite hobbies becomes showing you internet things and watching your reactions.
unfortunately for him, you understand almost none of them.
he'll excitedly explain some online drama that everyone apparently knows about.
you'll blink.
ask who any of those people are.
and force him to spend the next ten minutes explaining internet culture from the beginning.
every single time, he walks away questioning how you've managed to avoid learning any of it.
every single time, you remind him that you spend your free time reading books instead of staring at a screen.
he never has a response to that.
you accidentally become his source of random knowledge.
while kenma knows everything happening online, he somehow knows very little about anything outside of it.
you'll casually mention some historical fact while walking between classes.
he'll immediately stop.
"how do you know that?"
"i read it."
"why were you reading about that?"
you think for a moment.
"i don't remember."
kenma somehow finds that answer even more concerning.
your hobbies constantly confuse each other.
kenma watches you check out six books from the library and nearly has a heart attack.
"you're reading all of those?"
"yes."
"when?"
"this week."
he looks genuinely horrified.
meanwhile you stare at the price tag of a game he just bought.
"you spent eighty dollars on that?"
"yes."
"why?"
"because i wanted it."
the conversation ends with both of you deciding the other person's hobby is ridiculous.
despite spending most of his time online, kenma actually likes how different you are.
you don't care about trends.
you don't care about internet drama.
you don't know what's popular, and honestly, you don't seem interested in finding out.
while everyone else is talking about whatever happened online that week, you're curled up with a book written decades before either of you were born.
there's something oddly relaxing about it.
being around you feels quieter.
simpler.
less exhausting.
he'd never admit that out loud, though.
the funny thing is that nobody understands how your relationship works.
on paper, it shouldn't.
you're the girl who spends entire afternoons reading in the library.
he's the guy who stays awake until three in the morning playing games.
you live in completely different worlds.
and yet every day after school, people still see the same thing.
kenma sitting beside you while you read.
you sitting beside kenma while he games.
comfortable silence settling between you.
no pressure to entertain each other.
no need to fill every second with conversation.
just the simple comfort of existing together.
somewhere between your books and his screens, the two of you managed to become each other's favorite place to be.
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fyodor is not naturally touchy in public. if you're around other people, he's more likely to rest a hand on your shoulder or guide you somewhere with a hand on your back than openly cuddle you.
in private, though, he's surprisingly comfortable with physical affection. not clingy, but definitely not distant.
he's the type to pull you closer without acknowledging he's doing it.
if you're sitting beside him, eventually you'll notice the gap between you somehow disappeared.
he's a huge fan of side-by-side cuddling while doing separate things. he'll be reading a book while you're scrolling on your phone, but your legs are tangled together and his arm is around your waist.
fyodor absolutely uses cuddling as an excuse to steal your body heat.
he runs cold all the time.
if you're warm, congratulations. you've become his personal heater.
he prefers being the big spoon more often than not.
partly because he likes having you close.
partly because he likes knowing exactly where you are.
however, if he's exhausted, he'll let you hold him.that's actually one of the biggest signs of trust from him.
fyodor isn't someone who relaxes easily, so willingly curling up against you and letting you take care of him says a lot.
he enjoys having his hair played with far more than he'll admit.the first time you run your fingers through his hair and he unconsciously leans into your hand, he'll immediately realize what he did and pretend it never happened.
you notice.
he knows you notice.
neither of you mention it.
when he's working, he'll sometimes pull you into his lap if he doesn't want you wandering off somewhere else.
he'll claim it's more convenient.it's not.he just likes having you there.if you're upset, cuddling becomes much more intentional.
he'll quietly open his arms and wait.
no dramatic speech.
no asking questions right away.
just silent comfort until you're ready to talk.
fyodor isn't very vocal during cuddles.
he's not constantly saying sweet things.
instead, he'll show affection through little actions like adjusting a blanket around you, rubbing circles on your arm, or pressing a kiss to the top of your head when he thinks you're asleep.
he definitely notices if you're the type who constantly seeks physical affection.
if you always end up in his lap, on his shoulder, or curled against his side, he'll start expecting it.
eventually he'll get confused if youย don'tย cuddle him.he won't ask about it directly.
but he'll definitely keep glancing at you wondering why you're sitting so far away.
despite his usual composed nature, fyodor becomes surprisingly possessive during sleepy cuddles.
if someone tries waking you up while you're comfortably asleep against him, they're getting a very unimpressed stare.
he considers disturbing your nap a personal offense.
overall, fyodor's cuddling style is quiet, subtle, and intimate.
he's not the type to smother you with affection.
he's the type who pulls you a little closer, tucks a blanket around both of you, and acts like he has absolutely no idea why you're smiling.
he's draped across the couch, complaining dramatically about something completely ridiculous while you half-listen and scroll through your phone.
"and then chuuya had the audacity to-"
"okay, pretty boy."
silence.
complete silence.
you glance up.
dazai has stopped mid-sentence.
mid-breath.
mid-everything.
"...what did you call me?"
there's something dangerous about how soft his voice suddenly becomes.
you blink.
"pretty boy?"
you expected a laugh.
maybe a joke.
instead, he just stares.
for a second he genuinely looks caught off guard.
then a grin slowly spreads across his face.
oh no.
that's worse.
much worse.
"pretty boy?" he repeats.
you can practically see the ego inflating.
"you think i'm pretty?"
"i mean..."
you gesture vaguely at him.
"look at yourself."
dazai immediately throws himself into your lap.
"say it again."
"absolutely not."
"say it."
"no."
"please."
"no."
he spends the next hour trying to trick you into repeating it.
after you keep doing it
it becomes his favorite thing.
which is unfortunate.
"good morning, pretty boy."
"good morning, darling."
smug.
immediately smug.
he'll tilt his head and smile like he just won something.
sometimes he'll intentionally do things to fish for it.
new shirt?
he's standing in front of you.
hair done differently?
suddenly he's asking if you notice anything.
he pretends he's unaffected.
he absolutely is not.
every single time you call him pretty boy, there's the tiniest flicker of embarrassment hidden behind the smugness.
because hearing it fromย youย feels different.
and secretly?
he loves it.
loves it far more than he'll ever admit.
๊ฐ chuuya nakahara ๊ฑ
the first time
you don't even think about it.
you're fixing his tie before an event.
he's standing there impatiently while you adjust it.
"hold still."
"i am holding still."
"you're literally moving."
"barely."
you finish fixing the tie and smile.
"there."
you pat his chest.
"all done, pretty boy."
chuuya freezes.
completely.
his brain visibly stops working.
"...what?"
you blink.
"your tie?"
"not that."
his ears are turning red.
rapidly.
"the other thing."
realization hits.
oh.
oh that's funny.
"pretty boy?"
the redness gets worse.
which shouldn't be possible.
"quit saying it like that."
"like what?"
"like it's normal."
you stare.
"you are pretty."
he nearly chokes.
actually chokes.
you have to hand him water.
after you keep doing it
chuuya never gets used to it.
ever.
he acts like he does.
he doesn't.
"thanks, pretty boy."
"yeah, yeah."
red ears.
every time.
without fail.
sometimes he'll roll his eyes.
sometimes he'll grumble.
sometimes he'll tell you to stop.
you never stop.
eventually he starts muttering things under his breath.
"you're lucky i like you."
"what was that, pretty boy?"
"...nothing."
the worst part is when other people hear.
because then he's immediately defensive.
"don't call me that in public."
"why?"
"because."
"because what?"
"because shut up."
meanwhile he's bright red.
the thing is, chuuya knows he's attractive.
he's confident.
he's not insecure.
but hearingย youย call him pretty?
he turns into a disaster every single time.
akutagawa ryลซnosuke
the first time
it happens completely by accident.
you're brushing lint off his coat.
he's standing there silently while you fuss over him.
"there."
you smooth down the collar.
"you look nice today, pretty boy."
...
nothing.
absolutely nothing.
you look up.
akutagawa is staring at you.
expression blank.
motionless.
you wonder if he heard you.
then you notice his ears.
red.
very red.
"akutagawa?"
"..."
"did you hear me?"
"...yes."
his answer comes three business days later.
you try not to laugh.
"okay."
"..."
"..."
"...pretty boy?"
he immediately turns around and walks away.
actually walks away.
you can hear rashomon rustling aggressively.
after you keep doing it
he never knows what to do.
ever.
every single time you say it, his brain short-circuits.
"thank you, pretty boy."
"..."
"good morning, pretty boy."
"...good morning."
"you look handsome today, pretty boy."
error.
system failure.
rebooting.
he tries pretending it doesn't affect him.
it doesn't work.
because the second you call him that, he either looks away, clears his throat, or suddenly becomes very interested in literally anything except making eye contact.
eventually you catch him hiding his face behind his hand.
"are you embarrassed?"
"no."
"your ears are red."
"they are not."
"they are."
"..."
"...pretty boy."
he nearly drops whatever he's holding.
the truth is that akutagawa spends most of his life being feared.
respected.
avoided.
he's never really been treated as something soft.
something beautiful.
so every time you call him pretty boy, there's a tiny part of him that still doesn't quite know how to process it.
