I Fucking Love JJK Ocs What Else Is New

I fucking love JJK ocs what else is new

Daisuki Zenin

Papamin's Big Day

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When your first baby was 8 weeks old, she was booked in for her routine vaccinations. You were anxious, tense about seeing your tiny baby in pain.

Kento took the event very seriously indeed. He read all of the latest medical guidance on what to expect before, during and after the vaccinations. He stocked the house with two different types of newborn pain relief. He bought your favourite snacks, certain you'd be stressed and upset.

He booked three days off work, to be there on the day, and for the potential 48 hours of fever afterwards. He reassured you, constantly; the gentle, sincere reassurance of man used to far more stressful situations.

"Darling, she'll be absolutely fine," Kento mumbled into the top of your hair, one enormous hand stroking your trembling back, while the other held your tiny daughter, asleep in her car seat, "She'll hardly feel a thing. She won't remember a thing."

The Nurse was friendly, sweet, and experienced. You twisted your hands as she handed you information leaflets, and Kento nodded, calm and impassive, as she told him all the information he already knew. As the Nurse prepared the three injections, Kento turned to you, one great hand squeezing your thigh.

"I'll hold her?" He asked, and you nodded, mouth puckered as Kento kissed your forehead again. He reached two hands into the car seat, your tiny baby looking so dwarfed in his palms as he lifted her out onto his lap, gently undressing her as she scrunched, squeaking, cradled on his thighs. Kento shushed her, lifting her to his chest, nuzzling his nose into her hair. The picture of calm.

"Alright then! All ready, mummy and daddy?" The Nurse chirped, approaching with a sterile tray of vaccinations. You steeled yourself. Kento nodded, brisk.

It was all over in under ten seconds. Three swift needles, two to one thigh, and one to the other. Your baby girl's pain reaction was delayed for a moment, before she shrieked, a confused little cry, a cacophony of appalled tiny wails.

"Oh-- oh baby, my baby, come here," you cried, your face scrunched as you scooped her into your arms, cradling her under your chin, and bopping her around the room with bum-pats and shushes.

A few moments of tiny newborn cries passed...until you heard one heaving, strangled sob behind you. You turned round to Kento.

Kento stood, shaking as he faced the window, one arm wrapped across his chest to hold his elbow, the other hand cupping his face. You heard barely suppressed sniffles, and quiet gruff breaths.

"Kento, are you--...are you crying?"

"No, no, I'm-- I'm fine," Kento wept, sliding tears away with long fingers. Another sob wracked across his broad shoulders, more tears spilling down his face, sobbing again when his daughter wailed another pained cry.

The Nurse looked from Kento, to you, to Kento, silent as the grave. You walked slowly over to Kento, whose tears began to slow, giving his daughter a watery smile when she looked up at him with a quizzical, tearstained face.

Kento scooped her into his arms, drying his tears on her tiny velvet head. You rubbed Kento's arm, squeezing it, trying to stop your heart from bursting, with a little smile.

"Kento, do you...should we...go and get you a sandwich?" Kento sniffled, giving his daughter a kiss, nodding his thanks to the Nurse.

"Yes, uh...yes. I'd like that. Sorry."

"Don't...dont be sorry."

ugly af teaser but i am working on the rendering now lmao Doing this one ahead of the other bc i keep messing around with the posing and his face won't cooperate on it

I was crying and drawing at the same time

Original vid!

The Wristwatch

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You had not known you were Nanami Kento's girl, until the Wristwatch Incident.

In truth, your affection had been brewing so slowly, you had not known if you were imagining it.

You had not realised you were in love with Kento, until he leaned in close, and you smelled the smoky, wood-rich warmth of him. Until you found yourself nursing stomach-dropping disappointment, if your phone pinged and it wasn't him. Until you woke up in cold sweats, the memory of the dream of his skin on yours so vivid that your heartbeat throbbed between your legs.

You couldn't accept it. It couldn't be love, when he did not love you back. And yet...that intoxicating dance continued, while your head dipped in denial...blinkered.

The extra coffee that would be gently slid over the desk to you, by a strong, gentle hand. The late night phonecalls, decompressing from the stress of your missions. The occasional dinner in each others' company, because, well...we both need to eat? Why not eat together?

You were afraid to label it; afraid to lose the soft skirting intimacy that you had. Nanami Kento was a hard man to gauge; alternately sincere and distant, warm and cool, closely familiar and objectively analytical. He kept you at arms' length; close enough to brush fingertips, but far enough that you could run...if you wanted. And you never did.

You had gone shopping, together, one balmy spring afternoon. You both needed new clothes...so why not together? It makes sense, really. Nothing else in it, I'm sure. Just friends. He doesn't feel that way about me, anyway.

He had insisted upon Ginza Shopping Mall. You balked at the exquisitely-expensive-upmarketness of it, but you could never deny him, for fear of losing this time together. You had perused for new earrings, your belly clenching at the many zeroes on every pricetag. He had ambled over to another counter, just browsing, and there for quite some time.

"See anything you like?" That deep-roast voice broke you out of your reverie. You looked up, into twinkling hazel eyes, and blushed. Yes, you. One of you, Kento, please and thank you.

"No," you scoffed, turning your back on the jewellery, and walking towards the shop door, "too cheap for me. I couldn't possibly be seen wearing them."

Kento laughed, slipping a box into his pocket, and walking just close enough to send your brain into a spiral. You barely functioned through lunch. Kento remained, as ever, a gentleman.

As he drove you to your door, and you bid him a flustered goodnight, you felt that same big, warm hand on your arm, holding you back to him.

"Wait," Kento insisted, "I have...something. For you. Open it when you're home." He pressed a smooth, embossed box into your hands. You could not see what it was, under the glossy paper sleeve. You opened your mouth to chastise Kento, and he interrupted smoothly.

"It's your birthday soon. Consider it an early gift. You couldn't possibly refuse...?" One raised, fine eyebrow. That cool, impassive gaze. You pouted. Sneaky old goat.

"Alright. You win this time, Kento...but I'll get you back," you had promised. He had simply smiled indulgently, stepped out to open your door, and watched you until you were inside.

With trembling hands, you slid the smooth paper cover off the box, and your stomach somersaulted.

Tag Heuer.

"No...Kento-- you didn't," you hushed to yourself, rushing to open the box.

You fumbled an exquisite silver, blue-faced women's watch out of the box. It seemed, somehow, familiar. You couldn't possibly. You knew the pricetag on these. Even the packaging was too expensive for you.

With one hand over your mouth and a pounding little heart, you sent Kento a text with shaky hands;

Nanami Kento. Absolutely not. Take it back.

A few anxious minutes, pacing, looking at the watch resting on the table and gasping each time. Three small dot dot dots...dot dot dots...and a response.

Sorry. Lost the receipt. It will look good on you.

Squeaking and grinning to yourself, you tried the watch on. You took it off. You paced. You tried it on again. You fell back onto your bed, legs kicking, and hands over your face.

Every further refusal you send to Kento, was flatly ignored. He left you on read all night.

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The next day, at work, you couldn't help but notice the looks you were receiving. They weren't bad looks, certainly, more...surprise? Happy acceptance? Knowing smiles? Each person the same; glancing to your watch, eyebrows raising, and searching your face with a grin. You didn't understand it.

Over lunch, Shoko reached over to you, a coffee in her other hand, and tapped the new watch on your wrist.

"Couples' watches now, hmm?" She smirked. You frowned, questioning. Shoko scoffed at you, as if you were playing coy, when you didn't even know the rules of the game. Shoko's smile didn't falter once.

You confronted Kento later that afternoon, dragging him into a dusty narrow corridor, and holding the watch up to him with fighting eyes.

Kento's heart burst with pride, biting his lip with a sly smile, and taking your wristwatched hand in his own. He tipped your arm back and forth, admiring the watch on your wrist from all angles, with a lovesick sigh. You suddenly recalled, with flushed cheeks, where you had seen such a similar wristwatch before.

Kento watched your mental gymnastics with a slowly growing smile. You almost caught on fire as he raised your hand to his lips, pressing an adoring kiss to the back of your knuckles.

"Wondered how long you'd take to notice," Kento rumbled, eyed closed and nuzzling his nose against your fingers, "that you're my girl. And always have been."