#/This song makes him ....very.....quiet....

[kxsagi]

Hiiii!! I like your account very much and the way you write is great. I thought something like, sae x fem reader, reader is cheerful, understanding, playful and talkative. She's always the one who initiates the conversation, the contact with Sae. But one day, she's worried that Sae is uncomfortable, so she doesn't talk to him or hug him, so what if Sae noticed?

“𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐃 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐬”

a/n: thank you so much!!! this was kinda easy to write bc i am definitely this type of person lol

also, guys i swear i see requests in my inbox, i write them down for future reference, and when i’m about to write them, they’re like gone??? 😭

like i was gonna write it, i just need a couple days because i have other things going on, and i will respond if i am not comfortable writing it lol

(art credits go to immmso_ko on X)

sae itoshi isn’t used to being the one who reaches out first. 

he doesn’t need to. 

not when you’re around. 

you, with your sunshine grin and warm hands. you, who waltz into his life every morning like you’re the human embodiment of a golden retriever with a caffeine addiction. 

you, who hum off-key to whatever song’s been rotting in your brain all week. who pops into the kitchen just to press a surprise kiss to his cheek and dramatically declare, “that was your daily serotonin dose. you’re welcome.” 

you, who casually slip your fingers under the hem of his shirt when you hug him just to be a little nuisance about it. “oh wow, your back is so warm. you’re like a human heater. lucky me.” 

sae rolls his eyes every time. pretends to be annoyed. but he never stops you. 

and maybe that’s the problem. 

because now, he’s starting to think he’s been too good at pretending. 

it takes him a while to figure out what feels off. 

at first, he thinks maybe he’s just in a fouler mood than usual. his teammates were particularly slow during training. his coach was nagging more than necessary. the post-practice traffic was a nightmare. 

but then he walks into the apartment. 

and it hits him. 

the space is… quiet. too quiet. 

no overenthusiastic “sae!! you’re home!!” followed by you practically launching yourself at him like a feral cat on catnip. no sudden, unsolicited dance breaks in the kitchen while you wait for the water to boil. not even a playful jab about how he never texts you when he’s on his way home. 

just… silence. 

he finds you on the couch, scrolling through your phone. when you glance up and smile, it’s small. polite. the kind you’d give to a coworker you barely tolerate. 

okay. weird. 

he figures maybe you’re just tired. long day or whatever. but no, even when he sits next to you, you don’t do… anything. 

you don’t tuck your legs over his lap. you don’t lean against him or comb your fingers through his hair like you usually do when he’s within a five-foot radius. 

you’re not touching him. 

the realization makes his eye twitch. 

he’s not even being subtle about his staring at this point. he’s glaring at you like you’ve personally wronged him. and you, being the self-aware ray of sunshine that you are, notice immediately. 

"what’s wrong?" you ask softly. 

he narrows his eyes. "you tell me." 

you blink. "huh?" 

"you’re acting weird," he says bluntly, and you blink again, caught off guard by the sharpness in his voice. 

"what? no, i’m not," you say with a too-quick shake of your head. 

he squints at you. unimpressed. he’s not letting this go. 

"you are," he deadpans, voice low and flat. 

and that’s when you start to sweat. 

you glance away, suddenly very interested in the coffee table. "i’m not," you mutter under your breath, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. 

but he’s not buying it. 

"yes, you are." 

"no, i’m not." 

"you are." 

"i’m not." 

he leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. his eyes narrow further. "you are." 

"i’m not!!" 

a brief, heated staring contest ensues. 

… you lose. obviously. 

you sigh, slumping back against the couch. your shoulders sink slightly, and for the first time tonight, you look… sheepish. almost guilty. 

"i just…" you exhale softly, voice quieter than before. "i didn’t want to be… too much." 

his eyes flicker. "what?" he mutters. 

your fingers pick at a loose thread in your sleeve, suddenly avoiding his gaze again. 

"i wasn’t sure if you liked it when i… y’know, talk so much. or cling to you all the time. you never… complain or anything, but you never really initiate either, so…" you trail off, your voice growing smaller. "i thought maybe you were just putting up with it. so i didn’t want to, like… overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable." 

sae stares at you. 

and suddenly, he feels like a massive fucking idiot. 

because here you are, walking on eggshells around him – him – when all you’ve ever done is make his life warmer. brighter. easier. 

and what did he do? 

he let you think he didn’t want it. 

he presses his lips into a thin line. swallows down the brief twinge of self-loathing and quietly reaches for your hand. 

the moment his fingers brush against yours, you freeze slightly. but when he intertwines them with deliberate slowness, you blink, clearly caught off guard. 

"don’t do that again," he mutters, voice low but steady. "don’t pull away." 

your brows furrow slightly, confused. "but i thought –" 

"don’t," he cuts you off, and you immediately fall silent. he squeezes your hand slightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, gaze unwavering. 

"i like it," he mutters, voice a little strained, almost like the words are foreign to him. "when you talk. when you touch me. i…" he inhales sharply, eyes narrowing slightly, almost annoyed at himself for being so bad at this. "i like it. alright?" 

you blink at him, wide-eyed. 

he waits for you to say something. anything. 

but then you just… burst into laughter. 

his eyes narrow slightly, but before he can ask what the hell is so funny, you’re suddenly climbing into his lap. 

and for once, he doesn’t flinch. 

he exhales sharply when your arms wrap around his neck, pressing yourself against him like you’re trying to fuse your body with his. your fingers immediately find their way under his shirt, cool palms pressing against his bare skin like they belong there. 

"you’re such a grump," you mumble into his shoulder, voice muffled but clearly teasing. "but you’re my grump." 

he rolls his eyes, exasperated. but his arms tighten around you anyway. 

"don’t push your luck," he mutters. 

but he makes no effort to let you go. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[harrywavycurly]

Almost Bumble Fumble: Ordinary

Masterlist: Here

CW: None

A/N: I have gotten asked for more of these two and I was very inspired by the song Ordinary by Alex Warren, it for some reason made me think of these two so 10/10 recommend listening to it! Enjoy!✨

Tag List: @georgiarose94 @maiajadestyles @fandomfreak404 @likea-silhouette @obsessiveenthusiast @thegr8estpuff @triski73 @amarenonamari @cloudyluun @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @namoreno

Summary: Harry says something that causes a change in your relationship✨

You can feel his eyes on you as you stand at the sink washing the plates the two of you just ate dinner on, it’s a feeling you’ve gotten used to over the last few months ever since you ended up in front of his house during a mid morning walk. The two of you finding it just a bit odd that he just so happens to live only a fifteen minute walk away from you and yet you haven’t bumped into each other before but in true Harry fashion he chalked it up to the universe knowing just the right time to make the two of you come across each other’s paths, or dating profiles. You bite back a smile as you remember the first time Harry knocked on your door one Friday evening with a box of pizza and a bottle of wine, wanting to switch from your usual FaceTime hangout to an actual in person hangout and it’s as if the two of you haven’t stopped hanging out since. No words have been spoken about what exactly the two of you are doing, but at the same time you don’t think either of you need to explain it.

Harry while he was a little shy at first and needed you to be the one to reach over and grab his hand on one of your evening strolls around the neighborhood, now has no problem subtly showing his affection towards you with kisses to your forehead and a hand on you at all times if you’re within arms reach, he even holds your hand in public now and not just in the confines of the neighborhood and sometimes like now he will just stare at you with this far off look in his eyes that has the underlying hint of fondness that makes your heart want to burst. You on the other hand aren’t shy and have Harry laughing when you nearly cause him to fall over with how aggressive your hugs can be when you haven’t seen him in a day or two. Harry doesn’t ever have to wonder if you want him around because you simply drag him back to your side by his belt loop when he gets too far ahead of you while out at the shops or sometimes you just come up behind him and wrap yourself around him and rest your head between his shoulders and the sigh he hears you let out tells him you need his comfort just as much as he needs yours, the two of you just show it in different ways.

To the outside world the two of you might seem like an odd pairing, Harry being seen as somewhat quiet and reserved while you’re more on the vibrant and only slightly loud side and by loud it’s really just your laugh but Harry doesn’t mind because he adores the sound of it. Another thing is that Harry isn’t really online as much as someone his age is assumed to be, he prefers to have his head in a book and while you do enjoy reading you’re also more in tune with social media trends and quoting viral phrases to him that make him laugh or feel as if you’re playing a joke on him when he doesn’t quite get it but he tries and you appreciate his efforts every time he uses one of his newly learned phrases, even if it’s in the totally wrong context.

“I think it’s clean love.” Harry’s voice brings you out of your thoughts making the plate slip out of your hands and into the soapy water. “You okay?” You hear the smallest hint of concern in his voice as he slides a bit closer to you from him spot next to the sink where his drying station is set up.

“I’m fine.” You answer with a smile and you want to laugh at the faintest sound of what you know is a sigh of relief you hear come from Harry that without a doubt he tried to keep to himself but he can’t keep much from you given how close he managed to inch himself towards you while you were lost in your own little world.

“I just feel a little concerned.” You tell him with a slight purse of your lips as you reach for the plate that just fell back into the sink. Harry quirks an eyebrow at you as he watches you turn your head and look at the stack of dishes he’s already dried. “I mean honestly Harry have you never been on drying duty before? You can’t stack them.”

“I beg your pardon? You can absolutely stack dry dishes. How else are you meant to put them back on the shelf?”

“You can stack them after they dry overnight but not right after you run a rag over them. You’re going to make them all gross.”

“All gross? Really? The woman who has been using the same soapy water and nasty sponge to clean all the dishes is now worried my drying capabilities will be the reason they get all gross?”

“For someone who was standing there watching me like a hawk you clearly weren’t paying attention to what I was-”

“I always pay attention to what you’re doing.” It’s the softness of his voice that has you turning to face him. He has a hand on his hip while the other is down by his side holding the rag he was using to dry the dishes and his face has a genuinely sincere look on it as his green eyes stare into yours.

“That’s cheating.” You say with a huff making Harry let out a chuckle as he tosses the rag onto the counter before turning and placing his hands on your hips. “You can’t say things like that in the middle of a fake argument it’s-it’s rude Harry.” He just nods along while you speak as he pulls you closer until you’re resting your forehead on his chest and let out a dramatic sigh.

“I’d say sorry but I’m not.” He admits as his hands slide to your lower back. “And I know how you feel about lying and all that.”

“I appreciate the honesty.” Harry smiles when you lift your head off his chest so he can get a good look at your face. Your eyes have a sleepy little droop to them that could either be from the wine you had at dinner or the fact it’s nearing eleven at night, your cheeks have a faint pink tint to them that he feels happy to be the cause of and honestly Harry thinks you look adorable as you stare up at him.

“You’re pretty.” You say with a sigh as you bring a hand up and place it on the soft fabric of Harry’s t shirt and with that Harry has his answer that your little sleepy looking eyes are probably from a mixture of the wine along with the time of night.

“Thanks love.” He says with a chuckle as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead. “But you’re the pretty one.” He argues making you roll your eyes as you reach up on your tiptoes so you can grab both sides of his face and pull him into a kiss that has his hand on your lower back tightening around you and pulling you closer into his chest.

“I still can’t believe you’re real.” You mumble once you pull away and turn to go back to washing the plates in the sink making Harry shake his head while dropping his hands from around you.

As he stands in front of the stack of dry plates he has to hold back a laugh because that little phrase is something he hears you mumble quite a bit to yourself or sometimes like now you let it slip out while still in front of him. He knows that you’re referring to him being real as in not some fictional human you’ve made up in your mind, it no longer holds the same meaning it did when you first saw him when you didn’t believe he was real as in the real Harry Styles.

“Harry?”

“Yes love?”

“You’re not really going to leave the plates stacked right?” You question as Harry turns his head just to see you looking at him with a look of minor concern etched on your face as you hold out a clean plate for him to take and dry off.

He can’t help but give you a reassuring smile to ease your worry since he can tell this is just one of those things you clearly like done a specific way. And since Harry isn’t a stranger to having certain ways of doing things he won’t argue with you this time, even though a small part of him does love the effortless way the two of you can go back and fourth without actually crossing any lines and turning silly bickering into a full blown argument.

“I’ll put them on the drying rack don’t worry.” You smile and give him a small nod of approval as he takes the plate from you.

“God we’re so domestic.” The statement makes a warm feeling wash over Harry because it’s true, the two of you often end up doing very ordinary and basic things such as grocery shopping and dishes together and now that he thinks about it, those moments are the ones filled with the most meaning for him. Because if he can have fun and enjoy every moment of doing everyday things with you that are usually a bit boring and feel more like a chore, than that has to mean he’s found something special with this relationship and with you.

“I’m not so sure about that one love.” You look down at the photo of the flower arrangement on your phone as Harry rests his chin on top of your shoulder. “S’a bit too orange.” He explains when you let out a huff and begin sliding through other examples the florist you’ve chosen for a party you’re hosting next week has on their website.

“Too orange? That’s not a thing.” You bite back making Harry chuckle as his hand on your waist gives you a little pinch. “It’s just for a little garden party oh-what about this one?” You hold your phone out so he can get a good look at the small yellow and pink arrangement, you feel him smile against your neck making a shiver run down your spine.

“That one’s nice.” He answers before lifting his head off your shoulder and reaching out towards your phone screen with his free hand so he can use two fingers and zoom in on the photo. “I like the pinks and the bits of green.” You smile as you briefly let your eyes glance up to check if your order has been placed on the little counter of the small cafe the two of you have become regulars at. A place that has Harry feeling more comfortable with showing his affectionate side while tucked away near the back with his back against the wall and you standing in front of him between his spread legs so your back can rest against his chest.

“I think I like it.” Harry notes the excitement in your voice as his hand drops away from your phone screen and lands on your waist.

“I love you-I mean it.” Harry’s words are a jumbled mess swirling around in his brain as he feels his face get hot and his hands suddenly begin to get all sweaty at his slip up. “I love it.” He reiterates as you slide your phone into your pocket and turn around so you’re facing him, his grip on your waist loosening ever so slightly as if he’s giving you wiggle room to run away and never speak to him again.

“Yeah? You love it?” Your voice is like a soothing tonic to Harry’s mind that’s running a mile a minute with things he should say to clear the air but when he meets your stare suddenly all those thoughts are gone. Leaving him with a pile of muddled words that only barely scratch the surface of how truly beautiful he thinks you are, especially when you’re looking at him like he’s the only person on the planet that means anything to you.

“Yeah.” Is all he can manage to get out and he feels a ball of anxiety form in the pit of his stomach as the thought of potentially just ruining everything with his stupid one word response but to his surprise, it earns him a grin as you reach up and place a hand on the side of his face.

“Good. I love it too.” His brain doesn’t have time to register what that means exactly, if you’re talking about the flowers or something else before you’re reaching up and placing a very quick kiss to his lips.

“Edward? Edward your order is ready!” You laugh and turn around as you hear the name you gave the barista for your order while Harry is still mentally stuck in the fog of not knowing if the two of you just told each other you loved each other in some weirdly yet very you type of way.

“I’ll go get our drinks.” You tell him over your shoulder and Harry just watches you walk away making his hands slip off your waist as you head towards the counter, leaving him standing there in a confused bubble while you’re just acting completely normal. But he’s brought back to reality when he looks up and finds you heading his way with your coffee in one hand and his tea in the other and a very sweet smile on your face.

“You think I should get two? Of the arrangements? One for each table?” You question casually as you hand him his tea. Harry can’t do much besides nod his head making you smile and reach up to place a kiss to his cheek. “Perfect.” You say with a smile as you reach for his hand and begin heading towards the door so the two of you can leave the cafe and continue on your morning walk that will eventually end at one of your houses just in time for a snack and some cuddles on the couch.

“Just focus on running Harry.” He thinks to himself as he rounds the corner at the end of his street.

It’s been two days since the cafe incident and ever since then something has been bugging him about this situation he’s in with you and this morning when he woke up he officially felt as if he’s going insane with not knowing where the two of you stand with each other so to clear his head he laced up his running shoes and hit the sidewalk. Normally this type of relationship is exactly what he likes, one that doesn’t need defining and the label of being exclusive because how could either of you really be seeing anyone else when all your free time is spent with him or your girlfriends and for him he doesn’t think a day has gone by in the last three or four months that he doesn’t either want to make plans with you or already has plans with you. But something about you has all of a sudden changed everything because he doesn’t think he would be able to handle it if you told him you wanted to see someone else while also seeing him, it would crush him.

“Oh those are nice. Are those roses? She likes roses.” He wonders as he runs past a front yard that has an impeccable garden with vibrant flowers and lush bushes.

As he continues down the sidewalk Harry begins to go back to the look on your face when he accidentally let those three little words fall out of his mouth. You didn’t look surprised or scared, you almost looked as if in that moment you were letting Harry decide on if he wanted to repeat them or not and whatever came out of his mouth you were ready to go along with. That realization makes Harry stop in his tracks.

“She loves me?” He pants as he tries to catch his breath in front of a random house in his neighborhood he doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. “That’s what that means right? She-she was ready to say it back?” He mumbles to himself as he brings a hand up to his forehead while the other rests on his hip as he looks up towards the sky for a moment before a grin slowly begins to form on his face. “She loves me.” And with that he’s off running again but this time with a destination in mind, no longer needing to clear his head because he knows exactly what he needs to do or say in this very moment.

You’re standing in your kitchen holding a mug of coffee when you hear your front door open and then close, you don’t bother to check who it is because only two people have keys to your house and one of them is you and the other just so happens to be the flustered looking man standing before you in maroon running shorts and a black tank top. You silently watch as Harry slides his sunglasses off and tosses them onto the kitchen table behind him, he then puts both hands on his hips while taking in a few deep breaths and you wonder if he ran here on purpose or if he is just stopping by while on one of his more longer runs. When you set your mug down on your counter and open your mouth to speak Harry holds a hand up to you as if to tell you not to say anything just yet so you just close your mouth and give him the floor to say whatever it is he needs a moment to prepare himself to say.

“Are you my girlfriend?” His words come out rushed as if he’s still trying to catch his breath as he looks at you with bright green eyes and flushed cheeks. “Because if you’re not then I’d like you to be if that’s okay?” You rub your lips together as he nervously rubs at the back of his neck. “Because m’not sure I can go on without knowing how-”

“Three words.” Your voice is sweet yet serious as you cut him off mid sentence. Harry’s arms drop to his sides and his eyes to go a bit wide as he watches you take a step towards him.

“Three words?” He repeats with a quirked brow while running a hand through his hair.

“Three words. Eight letters.” You can’t fight the smile that wants to take over your face as you stand right in front of him, his face is a mixture of confused but also relieved that you’re not telling him to get lost or something worst. “Say them and I’m yours.” Harry tries to shuffle through all the random quotes he’s heard you say over the course of knowing each other as the last sentence hits his ears, he knows he’s heard it before and when he realizes where it’s from he can’t stop the chuckle that escapes him.

“I love you.” You have your hands on his face pulling him down towards you for a kiss before the last syllable leaves his lips. Harry’s arms instinctively wrap around your waist so he can pull you closer not wanting the kiss to end just yet.

“I love you too.” You mumble against his lips before capturing them in another kiss that leaves Harry feeling as if he’s floating on cloud nine when you finally pull away.

“Gossip girl? Really?” He asks with a breathy laugh that makes a grin spread across your face.

“I couldn’t just let the moment pass me by I mean how many times does someone get to say that quote? And it actually be perfectly timed? Besides,” Your hands travel down to Harry’s chest as you look up at him while his arms tighten their hold around you. “You know you love me.” Your voice is lower and more sultry than normal as you do your best gossip girl impression but it’s the wink you give him that sends the both of you over the edge and into a full fit of laughter

“I do yeah-I love you.” Harry placed a kiss to the top of your head as you rest your cheek against the fabric of his tank top. “So does this mean you’re my girlfriend then?”

“Yes Harry I’m your girlfriend.”

[lucyddreamingnever]

Poppy Playtimes hc bcz I’m bored

Leith Pierre 

Sleepwalker 

Has written many books, all of which were mildly successful 

Gets scared easily, despite how he acts (Harley loves to tease him for that)

Kids love him despite him turning them into toys in the end

Always humming/whistling some sort of tune

Good with using guns and other weapons and goes hunting regularly 

Has many scars (from the toys scratching him) but tries to cover them up

Secret Sabrina Carpenter fan 

Has an incredible spice tolerance 

Smoker

Actually likes all the toys in his own way

Gets angry pretty quickly and crashes out by pounding the/a table

Even though he turns most of the kids into toys, he’s actually very nice to all of the children and enjoys their company

Harley Sawyer 

Very quiet and pops up with no warning

Forgets about personal space and will get very close to you

Hates physical touch, tries to avoid it unless it’s with someone he likes (*ahem* Leith-)

Has a really bad staring problem

Very sensitive to pain and does not enjoy it, but enjoys other peoples suffering

Stressed. Always stressed. Never not stressed.

Actually very weak and light, has a hard time lifting things and gets tired easily

Either oversleeps or doesn’t sleep at all

Smoker (kinda)

Has a lot of scars from the toys attacking him, does not mind showing them off

Hates the kids, loves turning them into toys

Stella Greyber 

Fantastic with kids, they love her and she loves them

Loves dolls and collects them (Leith likes to get on her about that)

Has chronic and horrifying nightmares 

Loves candles. Has way too many of them and buys them every chance she gets

Falls asleep easily, like, too easily. Impossible the wake up (unless she had a nightmare)

Great at cooking and does it often

Nails are destroyed from biting them all the time

Has a bunch of scars from the toys scratching her

Randomly buys the workers gifts to show her appreciation towards them

Eddie M. N. Ritterman 

Plays the piano

Surprisingly good at making jewelry 

Smoker

Lips are destroyed from biting them so much

Can and WILL sing every Hatsune-Miku song 

Very patient and doesn’t get mad too easily

When he IS mad, though, he tends to hit people on their shoulders pretty hard (Leith and Harley have had bruises for weeks because of him)

Tends to not socialize much with the other workers

Extremely smart. The kids ask him at least a billion questions a day

Popular with the kids

[sephines]

Been thinking about what makes Declan’s sex scenes so good (apart from the fact that…he is in them). There’s a lot I could talk about here but I did just want to hone in on 2 things that I think are surprisingly rare in sex on screen, and those are a) ‘Christ, you’re wet’, and b) in 2 out of his 3 sex scenes not only do we see him fuck Maud with his fingers but that’s all we as viewers see: that’s the main event from our perspective.

(Note: generally cisnormative language used in this post just bc I’m talking about the film & tv industry which is cisnormative and in this specific instance talking about cis characters.)

‘Christ, you’re wet’ has lived in my head rent-free since I first saw it and it stands out so much as a line, and I think part of that is just that we so rarely hear any reference to women being wet on screen, even from women themselves. I actually can’t think of any other scene off the top of my head (though there must be some). We hear about men’s hard-ons all the fucking time, both generally and in a way that’s supposed to be titillating, but we never fucking hear about how wet a woman is! To hear that vocalised and acknowledged feels both meaningful and sexy, especially when combined with Declan’s thick Irish accent and that intense gaze.

Honestly I think especially hearing a man vocalise something like this stands out to me, because in this horrifying patriarchal culture we live in there’s this dichotomy of a not insubstantial portion of men treating women’s bodies like they’re at once incredibly desirable and incredible repulsive. I know I personally grew up around male friends who viewed women’s bodies in this way. So to see this gorgeous man acknowledge a woman being really wet and in a way that makes it so clear how turned on he is by that feels not only super fucking hot but important.

I think there’s also just something really fucking sexy about hearing something that’s usually kept quiet almost to the point of being taboo spoken out loud. There’s that little thrill of being like ‘oh! We just heard Aidan Turner talk dirty about how wet she is’, it feels private and intimate and like we’re getting to hear something we usually wouldn’t. You know? It feels fucking dirty. Even though the reality is he’s just acknowledging a very normal and expected part of sex.

And of course, then there’s the fact that being told how wet you are by someone you’re fucking is hot for many reasons: it feels exposing, it’s a way for them to assert their power over you by communicating that they know exactly how much they turn you on, and it also exposes their desire for you.

And then the same with Declan fucking Maud with his fingers (I don’t really like the phrase ‘fingering’ bc it just reminds me of being 12 years old and hearing that so-and-so had been fingered in the school loos by a pimply pre-teen boy whilst they bunked off P.E. or whatever… Profoundly unsexy) - I feel like we so rarely see this on screen in sex scenes between cis men and women? We see men giving oral to women more but even that has only started becoming more common in the last decade or so. I remember listening to an episode of Sentimental Garbage about Maroon 5’s Songs About Jane and the hosts made a great comment about how sexy the line ‘sinking my fingers into every inch of you, because I know that’s what you want me to do’ is, and how that’s in part because it’s just so rare to hear fingering (fine, I’ll use that word) acknowledged in art/media, let alone given that kind of sexual charge and attention, despite it being something that so many women love.

For that reason it contains a lot of the same thrill that hearing Declan tell Maud how wet she is does. And on top of that we get to see a sex act purely focused on the woman’s pleasure, and we get to see this strong, incredibly sexy, very sexually competent capable man using his skills purely to get her off. I think on screen (hell, in fiction, in culture in general) straight cis men’s sexual prowess tends to be limited solely to the realm of their dicks and what they can do with them, and still ends up revolving around their own pleasure as opposed to their partner’s - it’s like, they’re fucking a woman for their own gratification and the woman just happens to love it too. Whereas these two scenes with Declan are focused on him very intentionally pleasing Maud, and at the same time we see how much pleasure he gets out of that, how turned on he is by fucking her with his fingers, feeling how wet she is, hearing her moan.. Especially in the third scene, the camera really lingers on his face as he touches her and we hear her moaning - it really makes a point to show us in the intensity of his expression how turned on he is by pleasing her, how determined he is to please her, how present he is in the moment. Fuck! It’s hot.

And I just can’t think of any other scenes like that?

And that’s what those scenes revolve around - sure, maybe they have other kinds of sex after that, but we don’t see it. The fingering is the event, the fingering is the sex scene. The show is telling us this is important and hot and worthwhile in and of itself. And it’s clear that Declan thinks so, too.

[meadowfics]

can u write something about Daeho's mom constantly insists that they have another child(pre byeol!), joking about how they should make a baby already, She even offers to take Seoah for a sleepover at her house, hoping Daeho and us will take the opportunity to 'make another baby.'😏 while having the house all to themselves, However, instead of that, Daeho and us spend the day deep cleaning the house, preparing a recipe that they have been wanting to make for a long time, but they never had enough time,watching tv,just enjoying their free day, and ending the day falling asleep cuddled on the couch in a very intimate and adorable way while Daeho's mother thinks they're using the time to get pregnant😂

that is such a paternal grandmother thing 😭 I love this lol I hope you enjoy!

throwback to when seo-ah just trend three years old. a year before byeol was even born. things were steady having with only having one baby, but someone in daeho's side of the family wanted seo-ah to have a sibling!

to you, this is one of those rare weekends where the house was quiet. well, not entirely... the sound of distant laughter echoed in your mind as you thought of seo-ah, probably chatting away with her grandmother by now.

daeho’s mom had practically begged to have seo-ah over for a sleepover, using every excuse possible.

"you two need a break," she said, waving her hands dramatically.

"besides, seo-ah wants to play in my garden. she’s been talking about it for weeks!"

that part was true, but her motives were less than subtle.

"and maybe," she had added, a teasing glint in her eyes, "this will give you two some alone time. maybe it’s time to make another baby and give my granddaughter a sibling, hmm?"

you had laughed, cheeks warming, while daeho only shook his head with a flustered smile. the man's mom always had a way of making things awkward in the most loving way.

"we’ll see, eomma," he had replied, giving her a polite but evasive answer.

now, with seo-ah giggling in her grandmother’s arms miles away, the house felt… empty. there was a sense of stillness you hadn't felt in a long time.

no toys scattered across the floor, no animated princess songs blaring from the tv. just the hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the wooden floor beneath your feet.

daeho plopped down on the couch, stretching with a satisfied groan.

"so," he grinned, "eomma’s probably imagining we’re… well, doing what she suggested."

you laughed, playfully swatting his leg, "oh, she’s definitely convinced we’re in the middle of making her another grandbaby."

"should we keep up the illusion?" he wiggled his eyebrows, but the mischievous smile quickly softened, "or… we could actually enjoy the day?"

"you mean clean the house like we’ve been putting off for weeks?" you teased, knowing exactly where his mind was headed.

he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "maybe."

you didn’t mind. the thought of spending the day together without any interruptions sounded perfect. no sticky fingers pulling at your clothes, no spilled milk emergencies, no “mommy, look!” every five minutes.

just you and daeho.

"let’s do it," you said smiling, "a clean house and then maybe we can try that recipe we’ve been talking about."

"that bibimbap?" his eyes lit up.

"that’s the one."

and so, instead of tangled limbs and whispered promises, the day turned into a peaceful rhythm of chores and conversation. you worked together like clockwork, wiping down countertops, vacuuming the floors, and dusting forgotten corners.

daeho insisted on taking on the tougher tasks, flexing his muscles with exaggerated grunts that made you roll your eyes.

"so strong," you teased, handing him the mop.

"i know," he smirked, playing along, "the strongest."

you both laughed, the air light and easy. moments like this reminded you of how good it felt to be a team.

by late afternoon, the house gleamed, smelling faintly of citrus and fresh air. with the cleaning done, the two of you turned your attention to the kitchen. ingredients were spread across the counter, the sunlight pouring through the windows giving everything a warm glow.

"smells incredible," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"thank you love," you replied, smiling as you grabbed the gochujang.

after a long, satisfying dinner, the two of you retreated to the couch, wrapped in the comfort of full bellies and tired limbs. a blanket was thrown over your legs, and the hum of a movie played softly in the background.

you didn’t even care that you weren’t really watching it since the warmth of daeho’s arm around you was more than enough.

"you know," he said after a while, his voice low and drowsy, "eomma’s gonna be so disappointed when she finds out we spent the day cleaning and cooking instead of… well, what she hoped."

you giggled, tracing small circles on his chest, "let her think what she wants. we had a perfect day."

"we did," he whispered, pulling you closer, "and hey, we’ve got plenty of time for everything else."

𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙��� 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

[miguel-morillo]

10 March 2025 - Los Angeles, CA, USA Los Angeles Police Department

It was just going to be another Monday, Miguel thought, as he walked into the Los Angeles Police Department at eight o'clock that morning, a full hour before his actual shift would start. This had always been his routine, even before he was promoted to be a detective less than a year ago; the extra hour spent often gave him time to settle in before the start of everyday's hustle and bustle. He'd look over his cases, plan out his day, and actually enjoy his coffee instead of chugging it down, and burning his throat inside an already hot police car.

But that morning, as he began poring over a cold case he'd been assigned to, the precinct's usual chatter was suddenly drowned out by a man yelling in anger. It was Stan Brooks, the department's legendary detective for the past thirty-five years. With the shut door behind him, and the partially open blinds on the windows, he seemed to be having a heated, one-sided meeting with the captain.

"I will not have some naive young pup who thinks he can play with the big boys jeopardise this case for me, Laurie!" He yelled, red in the face. "This is my last case before I retire, and I am not putting my reputation on the line!"

On the other side of the large mahogany desk sat the precinct's head, Captain Lauren O'Connor, cool, calm and collected as always. Miguel couldn't make out what she was saying but whatever it was, it seemed to have enraged Stan further, causing him to storm out of her office and huff at Miguel on his way out.

What the hell was that for??

"Morillo!"

"Yes, Captain!"

The older woman motioned for him to come into her office.

Apprehensive, Miguel stood up and briefly exchanged a few glances with his colleagues. He didn't think he had a meeting booked for that morning. Was he in trouble, too?? Miguel made his way towards the captain's office and was about to close the door behind him, out of habit, when Captain O'Connor interrupted him.

"Leave it," she quietly commanded, though her attention was mostly on the open file she was skimming through. "Stan will be coming back."

Miguel nodded in silence, but it didn't relieve his confusion. Was Stan to be in this same meeting? What for? The two of them were working on two very different cases; Miguel was investigating a cold kidnapping case that happened years ago, while Stan was in charge of the takedown of Dax Holloway, the music mogul.

Is this what Stan was so miffed about?

"You ever heard of Dax Holloway, kid?"

"Yes, ma'am." Miguel was prompt to answer. "He's a musician, isn't he?" he went on. "I've only heard a few songs of his, but I know he's really popular. Even in Medellin," he added, referring to his hometown in Colombia. He paused, wondering what this was all about. "But I've also heard that he's involved in some really shady shit."

"That's right." Captain O'Connor leaned back against her large leather swivel chair, eyeing Miguel for a quiet minute. She looked to be contemplating something. "I need you to partner up with Brooks and co-lead Holloway's takedown."

Miguel stared at his boss. Of all the things he was expecting this meeting to be, this was definitely not it.

"Ma'am?" Dumbfounded, he shook his head, as if that would somehow rearrange what he'd just heard a bit more clearly. "Co-lead?You want me to co-lead. With Stan. Stan Brooks."

Is she for real???

"Yes." There was no mistaking the look on his boss's face — the woman wasn't playing around. "Is that going to be a problem?" she asked, looking him dead in the eye.

"No, ma'am," he replied without hesitation. "I'd be honoured to help—..."

"Oh, Jesus fuckin' Christ!" Stan had returned, groaning and reeking of cigarettes. "You couldn't have waited for me?" He was addressing the captain directly, and in turn, completely bypassing Miguel on his way to sit on the same seat he'd been occupying since earlier. Almost as if the younger detective wasn't standing there at all.

"No, Stan," Captain O'Connor didn't look like she would budge despite the older man's very obvious disapproval. "I'm not going to wait until you finish your umpteenth smoke break before I do my job."

That shut up Stan right quick.

"Now, both of you, listen to me," Captain O'Connor resumed, crossing her fingers together above her desk, looking at both men. "You two are my best guys here," she said, which earned an eyeroll from Stan, one that he didn't care to hide from his own boss. Clearly being the best detective didn't earn Stan Brooks any manners. Still, the captain ignored the disrespect for the time being. "And I need you both on this Holloway case."

"Come on, Lauren, you can't actually mean that. This kid is... He's just a kid!" Even then, Stan couldn't be bothered to look over at Miguel. He simply pointed at him, exasperated, which really pissed Miguel off.

"You better not be referring to me, old man..." Miguel started but his annoyance couldn't compare to that of the captain's, whose patience had finally reached its limit.

The woman fiercely banged her fist on her desk, surprising both men, and the entire precinct.

"Enough!" One would be able to hear a pin drop in that moment of silence. "This is not just any case, Stan," she spoke, her voice thick with irritation. "You, of all people, should understand that from having investigated this scum for months! And it has been months. Months and months yet no results. Well, I need results! And believe it or not, Miguel is going to help you do it!"

Stan opened his mouth to say something, but the captain was quick to silence him again.

"I understand that you've been at the top of your game for thirty-five years now," she spoke as calmly as one could through gritted teeth, "and he's only made detective last year. But you're not as sharp as you used to be, Stan, and you need to face the fact that you need help. And since I need this shit done before any more girls get assaulted or go missing or God forbid - both! - you're going to share everything you've got on the Holloway case with Miguel here and, together, hatch up a plan to take down that son of a bitch on the evening of the 29th." She angrily shut the manila folder, and added, "See me about your game plan before end of business. Today."

"Wait, what? What's on the 29th?" Stan grumbled irritably, looking very unhappy with the situation his superior had put him in.

"There's a party of some kind—..." Captain O'Connor started to explain, skimming the files inside the thick manila folder in front of her for a name.

"You mean Milo Nash's album release party?" Miguel casually piped in.

Both Captain O'Connor and Stan looked at him, astounded.

"What?" The young man blinked. "Everyone's talking about it."

Captain O'Connor smirked to herself, and shook her head, very amused. Without another word, she closed the Holloway file and slid it across her desk towards Miguel.

"And that, Stan, is why you need Miguel."

[sallysavestheday]

Fëanorian Week: Curufin

I am very fond of a Curufin who has to relearn how to craft after being reborn, because he had so given himself over to weaponry. For @feanorianweek, have him learning something new (from last year's Tolkien ekphrasis week, a favorite event of mine).

Returned Curufin asks forgiveness of the trees. All his life he had cut and burned, breaking branches and downing saplings to feed the forge’s fire. The Song of the devoured groves wound low and steady in a melancholy counterpoint to the lash of his flames. The most useful form of wood for him was charcoal: slow-burning, heat-holding, durable, storable. He gave no more than a passing thought to the cool pleasures of the deep forests, of the nourishing green. But the Halls of Mandos tell the stories that every soul needs to hear. Wherever he drifted, Vairë’s tapestries showed scenes of devastation: the bleak, blighted stump-fields of Mordor; Saruman’s endless burns. The horror of those losses struck a deep chord in him, set a small green thing singing.

Curufin masters his shame and seeks out the woodworkers of the deep glades: Sindar and Avari whose knives shape deadfall into exquisite art and objects of durable, practical use. How long has it been since he learned a new skill this way, from observation and repeated practice? The call of craft runs through him, but it is daunted by the strangeness of the new materials; by the ancient tensions between their peoples; by the need to submit, and defer, and inquire. But it is that yielding that saves him. He stumbled out of Mandos raw and alone. Here, in the quiet bowers of the forests, he finds purpose in communion, in acknowledging the value of more experienced hands and wiser minds. As his fingers shape slowly to the task, he learns to follow the nature of the knots, to let the curves of the wood speak in their own voices. It is not so much making as it is unveiling, revealing. Sinking into the Song, finding the resonance between branches and bones. Where he once burned wood to shape jewels, now he teases the trees’ nature out with his knife’s edge, through exquisitely embellished beads, through carven chains of airy links, through delicate figured casings for berries and stones. The songs of the starlit peoples wash over and through him. In a truer sense than in his first, burning journey to Beleriand, Curufin is finally coming home.

Also on AO3: Refinishing.

[meadowlarksabove]

what's gabban's favorite song!

Get a look into Gabban's head (Open)

[chibishortdeath]

I’ve been trying to use vocaloid recently since I obtained a Big Al, but aaaaa it is so so hard finding any kind of tutorials or help for V2 and when you do it’s for like specific problems you don’t have or extremely simple beginner things like “here’s how to type in lyrics” (TwT ). Big Al is really fun so far, but man it’d be nice if anyone online had answers for anything.

[sskk-manifesto]

!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[buddyapologist]

sorry for talking about hamilton in 2024 I just remembered "I stop wasting time on tears / I live another fifteen years / it's not enough" and i might cry again

[bmpmp3]

the really beautiful landscape/skyscape animation in makoto shinkai's works tends to be the big thing i see focused on and that is understandable and deserved like the weather and lighting effects are unREAL but i do think we should also appreciate how absolute insane the plotlines of his original movies get. at least two movies with in universe catastrophes with major ecological implications. the guns and explosions. theres that one movie i havent seen yet with the guy who turns into a chair (?)

[junmyeonists]

no song will ever make me feel the way she does btw.

[screampied]

JUNO, YOU KNOW! k. nanami

☆ sum. last thing nanami would expect was to get struck by a “fatal” love curse during the very end of no nut november. you tease him even more by saying one of you is cute….but two though?

wc. 8.1k

warnings. fem! reader, husband! nanami, unprotected, sēx pollen, mentions of pregnancy, fluffy smut <3, handcuffs, brēeding, cunnīlingus, him finishing too quick, cowgirl, praise, soft dom! nanami, cērvix mentions, size kink, he's soooo whipped n in love w youuu, (bless his dad's genetics), boob obsessed nanami, aftercare, petnames.

an. my entry for @luv-lies's yummy nnn collab! ❤︎

november 29th, 2024. 6:09 P.M.

december was right around the corner - but oh, was nanami kento fuckin’ screwed.

“nanamin!” satoru—his colleague hollered, speedily rushing over to him. they’d just defeated an unarmed A-cursed spirit unlike any they’d ever seen before. it was quite strong, but it was nothing the pair couldn’t handle. satoru glances down, extending out his hand. nanami grunts, swiping a hand over his sweat-glossed forehead before sighing. he’s a bit roughed up but takes satoru’s cold palm with an irked grumble. “you alright? that was quite the hard hit.”

“ ‘m fine, gojo,” he grouses, readjusting his glasses. with a swift hand, he fixes his crooked tie. “just hah- underestimated the opponent. don’t fret.”

he wasn’t ‘just fine’ though. nanami felt his entire body starting to arise with scorching temperature within a matter of seconds. he’s boiling hot- and it felt like his heart was pounding straight out of his chest. perplexed, satoru furrows a snowy brow at his comrade once he notices his awkward body language.

“what do you need? tell me- maybe we can-”

nanami was clenching his chest with one hand, panting heavily before letting off a raspy huff.

“i need . . my wife.”

the car ride home was silent.

satoru offered to take him home, wondering just what really happened. nanami was as stubborn as a mule though, so he didn’t question it further. he’d rather not get scolded. his head rests against the tented window as he stares outside.

driving through the rutted bumpy roads of tokyo, nanami’s droopy eyes occasionally drifted away from the bright street lights that merely blinded his naked eye from gazing a bit too long.

as usual, the city was packed, dozens of cars zooming by with the flashy beaming store signs. in the background, some random song was playing. it was pop—and of course, satoru was loudly humming along to the catchy poppy melody.

the lyrics were quite . . vulgar though, but nanami still remained quiet, focusing his eyes on the streets.

skrrrrrrrt!

satoru’s breaks eventually come to a stop. it was about maybe a good ten-minute drive and he arrived at you and nanami’s cozy minka. the light was on so he assumed you were probably still up. placing the rusty shift in the park, the white-haired sorcerer turns to nanami with a cheeky grin.

“take it easy, alright? ‘m sure the curse will wear off at some point,” and nanami scoffs once his palm pats his shoulder. reaching for his seatbelt, the blond click it off before unlocking the door. “oh! and tell your wifey i said hi!”

“sure thing, gojo.” nanami stops himself from rolling his eyes, reaching near the backseat to retrieve his dusty suitcase. with a loud vroooom, satoru’s aqua-blue convertible takes off and nanami starts to make his way toward the door.

glancing down, he fishes for his keys in his pocket, grumbling under his breath.

god- he feels so damn hot. even hotter than when the attack occurred..

was this supposed to be normal?

all he knew was that he wanted, no- he needed you.

something in his body . . whatever it was, was direly aching for you.

the entire car ride, nanami’s mind was entirely flooded with thoughts of you, you, and only you.

whenever he had missions, he’d always think about you, sure. but this time- this time was far, far different.

he felt like he was gonna melt right away if he didn’t touch you, if he didn’t smell you-

“ken…to?” you murmur with a quirked brow, standing behind the tall sliding door. nanami stiffly stood at the doorway, keys still idly in hand with the most dumbfounded look.

oh- he was so kept in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize you had already slid the door open.

you looked so pretty though. nanami could feel his face softening once his eyes locked onto you.

it was pretty dark at night but like always, he could make out your gorgeous physique as clear as day. you were actually wearing one of his business shirts with what he hoped were panties underneath once he took a glance between your bare thighs.

his fawn eyes continue to trace down every exposing inch of your skin, and he snaps back into reality once he feels your palm cup his cheek.

“hi, baby. how was the mission?” you hum.

“not hah- that good,” he pants, and you furrow your brows once he steps inside, sliding the door closed and tossing his suitcase to the floor. it lands with a banging thud, and nanami pulls you into a hug.

a coy smile goes against your lips, wondering why he’s being more clingy than usual, but nanami rests his face right on top of your chest. letting off a smoky sigh, he roughly grumbles, gently rubbing a thumb against your hips. “mmf- i missed you, sweetheart.”

with a soft expression, you comb a few tangled fingers through his blond tresses. “i missed you more.”

“no- i really missed you,” he protests, and you can see a bit of a pout forming against his lips. nanami’s drowsy eyes trail down at the bit of skin that shows through his shirt. it was a bit loosely oversized, and you smelled just like him. his cologne was good on you. so good.

uh oh- he was starting to feel even more hot.

just resting against your chest had him hearing the repetitively unsteady beats of his heart through each of his sensitive pointed ears. “at the mission today . . i got struck by a curse.”

with a worrying look, your face shifts into a look of concern. “a- are you okay? what happened?”

“ ‘m fine,” he lets out a muffled huff of reassurance. nanami breathes against your skin, sweetly planting kisses against the cotton fabric that shields the entirety of your chest. “i feel really hot though.. everywhere- not just my head,” he speaks once the back of your hand lands on his forehead, checking for a temperature.

indeed, he felt hot.

sepia-colored irises flicker up toward you before he shivers. “when you . . touch me, honey- it makes me feel weak. hah- like i feel-”

“aroused?” you finish his sentence, your concerned look slowly disappearing.

oh.

thankfully, it wasn’t anything serious . . or was it?

nanami stares at you with a cute head nod being his answer as you press a kiss on his warm forehead. “so was it some type of love curse?”

nanami’s breath becomes deeper as he takes a minute to formulate words in his overstimulated brain. “m- maybe. all i know is that i just- i want you…i need you,” and he sighs deeply, eyes lowering. “you look beautiful tonight by the way.”

“it’s still november, baby,” you tease, knowing exactly where he was going with his gruff words. nanami had a feral hungry look in his eyes, and it looked like no other expression of his you’ve seen before.

he lets off a frustrated groan at your words, remembering the little ‘challenge’ you both agreed on once halloween ended.

ah- ‘no nut november’.

where men have to apparently abstain from masturbation and cumming—according to you, specially for the entire month of november.

not that nanami necessarily minded, he had a pretty good tolerance, actually.

but today, of all days?

he felt like he was about to break. being so close to your proximity had nanami’s head spinning.

his face - it’s overly flushed. a pretty tint of pink starts to slowly paint his face as he pouts at you.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen your husband like this—let alone pout. “we made a deal, remember?” you continue, caressing a thumb across his cheek. his chin was still resting on your chest and you could see the frown marinating against his features. “december first.”

“but-” he grunts, watching the smug grin spread across your glossed lips. nanami gets sheepish, tilting his head down. “sweetheart- i know that, but you’re bein’ pretty cruel right now, no?” and you glance down, feeling his lips collide against the skin that briefly exposes your tummy. “do you always wear my work shirts when i’m not home?”

“yeaaah,” you admit, letting off a tiny snicker. nanami feels your shoulders slacken once you release a single breath, and you stare straight into his eyes.

his eyes however, never left yours, not for a millisecond. as the gaze continued, you could see the beads of sweat starting to race down each side of his forehead.

oh-

maybe the curse was serious. getting an idea you decide to amp up your teasing just a bit. “do you wanna know what i was doing earlier while wearing your dress shirt?”

nanami places chaste kisses between the valley of your breasts. “uh huh. tell me, wifey.”

“i . . might’ve been playin’ with myself,” you sweetly speak, and he could hear the tease lacing underneath your sentence.

the more you spoke about what you were doing, nanami was starting to feel even hotter-

and the pure image of you touching yourself with his button-front shirt on, engulfed in nothing but his musky cologne made him groan. it was clear you weren’t wearing panties. he couldn’t help but peek, and sure enough—you were going commando.

nanami keeps his lovingly longing gaze and slowly, he raises his head from between your chest, raising a brow as if silently saying, ‘continue.’

with a cheeky smile, you wrap your arms around his torso. “i couldn’t make myself finish though. my fingers aren’t as long as yours. so, i ended up falling asleep and i had a dream. about . . us.”

“i see,” nanami huskily utters, sinking his head into your left shoulder. you just smelled so so sweet — sweeter ever, and you could see nanami trying to restrain himself. clearing his throat, nanami invades an entire side of your neck with wet, loving kisses. “what was the dream, princess?”

now it was your turn for your heart to start racing.

it was quick, beating at such high beats per minute. with an impish expression, you cup his chin and make him face you.

tenderly rubbing a thumb over his lips, you finish what your cute, lewd admission. “i…uh- dreamt about you retiring as a sorcerer. or you have a safer job that makes you less stressed. we finally . . settled down, and we um . . ended up having kids.”

“kids, huh,” he whispers, dragging a hand through his blond strands. you could feel his feverish heat radiate against your skin and you were surrounded by his balmy warmth.

he wasn’t exaggerating—nanami was truly, truly burning up. the buds on his tongue sizzle each time he takes a fateful second to swallow, salivating the more his eyes focus on you. nanami ponders for a moment silently, and before you know it, he’s picking you up.

you let off a cute surprised gasp, hurling your arms around his neck before watching him sigh. “ah- don’t get shy, my sweet. keep going.”

nanami continues to walk with you in his arms, going up the creaking, wooden stairs and you run a few fingers down your exposed nape.

“we . . had about maybe two or three. you even started growing facial hair too,” and nanami’s grip on your hips softens. he raises a blond brow before trodding inside the quiet bedroom. “you’d make a good dad though, ken,” you purr, running a finger down his amber-dotted tie. “could you imagine though? one of me is cute, but two though?”

“honey-” he cuts off, lying you flat back against the mattress.

with a split-second glimpse underneath the oversized formal shirt you wore—indeed, you weren’t wearing any panties. he had to check just one more time.

nanami starts to pant heavily, watching as you playfully lift your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. “is that- is that what you want? to settle down?”

“only if . . you want to.” you murmur in a soft tone, deeply getting lost in his golden-hour gaze.

nanami’s eyes were bright, shining with nothing but love and adoration for you - always.

if you squinted just enough, you could see his pupils forming into cute-shaped hearts.

grabbing his hand, you place it on your tummy, sliding it underneath the buttoned shirt.

“i want… you,” he huffs, his voice turning from tender to raspy within seconds. nanami leans in and presses his lips against yours. his dimples happily curve forward once you immediately return the gesture, cupping his face with both hands.

right away, nanami moans against your lips as his hot tongue blissfully shoves itself inside your mouth. minty peppermint — it’s exactly what he tasted like, and his cool breath running against your tongue only made him taste sweeter.

nanami couldn’t help but roll his hips against you with his sweaty forehead softly pressed on top of yours.

each popping smack of hungry lips got louder, and he heard the faint clanks of his belt shuffling. you slid a hand down, reaching for the middle part of his pants. you’ve shared many kisses with nanami, but this one seemed different..

a current of chills ran down your spine as he deepened the passionate kiss as the callused tips of nanami’s fingers unbuttoned his shirt.

speaking of his shirt though—he just couldn’t get over how much his shirt was just prettily glued against your skin.

“god- this month’s been torture, sweetheart,” he’d breathe between nearly suffocating kisses.

nanami’s lungs were full, and he’d sometimes even forget to breathe. such full lungs of his were heaving in and out continuously, desperate for any sort of puffs.

they had to find air, they just had to..

but nanami didn’t care about breathing, not when he had his lips ardently locked against yours.

“couldn’t- stop- thinkin’- ‘bout- you-” he grunted in a hoarse tone, sweetly sucking against your lolled tongue. its mushy warmth invites him to continue, and you briefly open your lashes to stare straight into a very needy nanami’s eyes. “hah- you were all i thought about at work today.”

“mhm, breathe, kento,” you whisper, feeling your lips swell the minute he pulls away.

a web of gluey saliva leaves from both sets of puffed lips and he breathes like you said. with a looooong inhale, nanami then exhales before grunting. you simper, tugging on the hem of his beige boxers. “maybe i can . . help with that curse?”

and you did.

in more ways than one, really.

to be brief, nanami kento was a feral man-

he felt himself turning into a brand new man the second his tongue graciously rolls itself flat against the flatness of your pretty twitching clit.

a sharp gasp winds straight out of your lungs as you’re sat with your legs obtusely spread to a wide degree.

with your hands burying themselves underneath your plushy tits as he devoured you—you couldn’t help but toy with yourself for a bit. moaning, a thumb trails its way down against one of your puckered nipples that poke through the fleecy blue dress shirt.

“k- kentooo.” you’d hum out a whimper, a hand finding its way near the top of his head.

he’s slow… badly wanting to savor your sweet taste on his tongue while eating you out like the starved, starved man that he was.

wisping a bundle of fingers through his blond locks, you continue to cup one of your tits with one hand. long, thirsty sluuuurps exited from nanami’s lips as you watched his head frantically shake from side to side.

your tummy was already seizing, and the heel of your ankle started to guide its way down his back. wet, sloshing noises ricocheted against nanami’s lips as his eyes periodically averted back towards you.

he’s giving you the ‘i wanna marry you again’ stare, no doubt. even with his mouth stuffed, nanami kento’s never felt more in love—

maybe this love curse . . pollen, whatever it was was a secret blessing in disguise.

the panicky, racing beats of nanami’s heart never slowed, and a hand of his then grips your thigh. tenderly, you feel the tip of his tongue dipping its way in ‘n out — wetly lathering his pink twitching muscle with your sweet slickness.

your eyes remain on him the entire time, getting forevermore lost in his crave-like gaze. “shh- talk later, princess. promise.” he whispers against your cunt, delving his tongue in swerving, wide circles.

those wide circles eventually curve their way into hearts, though. a whine sobs its way from the back of your throat as the grip on his hair tightens.

you felt the scaly, hot of his tongue create the perfect heart . . even spelling out the simple eight letters of ‘i love you.’

your legs couldn’t hold still, they just couldn’t- and you could feel the skittish smile forming against his lips, tickling against your pussy.

you were drooling from your entrance, right from the puffy slavering slit down. you’re flooded, soddened with such amounts of dewy dewdrops that form into strings, and in a way though, it was pretty.

nanami was just struck in awe at how much you were just profusely leaking. like the gentleman nanami was though, he lapped it right up. his rose-swollen lips cupped everywhere, smothering the crevices of your sheeny thighs with his many, many kisses.

“r- riiiight there, ‘ken,” you’d mewl out a desperate plea, slowly dragging his head against your cunt. it’s moving around in a hypnotizing circle, but if it was anything that was leaving you in a mere trance of a state, it was his tongue.

nanami explores through every puffy wet corner, sloppily slotting his tongue in between your pudgy folds. he grunts against your throbbing heat, feeling the weight of his impatient boner prodding beneath his cotton-made boxers. “mngh- gonna cum. ‘m gonna cum, kento.”

“do it for me,” he soundlessly says, vertically smearing a fat thumb down your slimy pussy.

your entrance was soaked-

tearing away with drooling droplets of slick. every time. he was so enticed that he had to take a minute to just stare at your cunt—admiring how wet his pretty, perfect girl was - just for him.

nanami was entranced once he moved his face closer. the tip of his button nose then literally starts to drag itself down your sobbing slit and he moans, taking in your natural scent. “hah- c’mon, sweetheart. give it t’ me,” and he brings his ring finger right up against your core.

it’s a lanky finger that starts to bedaub against your cunt, feeling you writhe at the sensitive contact.

you whine, feeling his ring finger rub its way against your heat before poking your tongue against your cheek to silence yourself.

as you watch, his digit gets covered with your mess almost immediately, and you shudder at the cold band of his ring toying with your salivating folds. “pretty please-” and oh- he’s begging.

a blond brow of nanami’s quivers as his lips attach back to your cunt. sticky, glistening strings of arousal rills straight down his forward-pointed chin as he continues to rub the back of his wedding ring against your pulsating clit.

it’s icy cold.. you felt him keep up the pace as the material of the band smears itself around in circles before feeling a coil in your tummy tightening.

the pressure makes you see stars for a hot second—and you’re met with a bundle of nerves trying to introduce itself to the lower depths of your stomach. “ ‘m cumming!” you’d blurt in a staggering wail.

the crashing wave of endorphins made you exhale a cute sigh as your legs started to get more and more numb.

you felt like you were floating on every single cloud, including cloud nine - especially cloud nine.

nanami’s tongue still slid its way in between the slot your sappy folds, feeling the cute twitches of your throbbing clit against his bumpy tastebuds as you start to spasm. “fuh- fuck! ‘ken ‘m sensitive, baby.” and your words turn into a mere hush once your body started to limp its way onto the sheets.

your thighs locked around his neck, and you still had his hair in a firm grasp, digging your fingers deep into his roots and scalp.

with widened doe-eyes, you glance back down toward your husband who’s merrily licking you clean without a single care in the world.

if the beats of your heart was a car, you’d be speeding.

it’s beating so fast out of your chest that you can barely keep up. your legs felt like mush as your neck finally gave up, collapsing back against your pillow.

“mmh- should’ve just stayed . . hah- stayed home today,” he grumbles, giving every glossed part of your exposed cunt individual kisses. nanami starts at your pretty clitoral hood, sprightly nibbling at the tender fold of skin. you whine, yanking his head forward before nanami pats your pussy. “could’ve been playin’ with her a- all day.”

“you’re here now.” you speak out of breath, pulling his head back up. once you do so, nanami looks at you with the most pussy drunk expression.

his lips were all plump and red, lashes merely sticking together, and glossed sleek streams of slick racing down his chin. nanami leans into your touch, sitting up before leaning in to kiss you.

again- his tongue sloppily carved a wet trail through your mouth, and you moan once you feel the tint of his boner press up against your bare cunt.

he’s so hard, you wondered if it was painful. you swallowed each grunt of his in your mouth, feeling his body hungrily rock against yours.

a few ash tresses stick against his forehead as his lips violently crash onto yours—creating an impactful collision.

as dancing tongues swiftly twisted and spiraled around each other in sync, you hear a bit of shuffling again.

nanami's reaching into his boxers, grunting against your lips once he feels the anchoring weight of his heavy cock lie flat against his palm. “m- mhm, sweetheart.” he throatily groans, feeling your hand slip inside of his boxers too.

you feel a lightning-shaped vein shoot down his skin and he grunts. nanami was as sensitive as ever, and with your hands softly tracing circles over his bulky triceps, he knew he was in trouble.

deep, deep trouble..

“it’s okay, ‘ken,” you whisper, letting off a sharp inhale once his fiery hot tip smears its way on your cunt.

it’s almost flat out rude at first—with the way it smacks against your folds, creating a wet splash that lands right on his bulbous crown.

from the stout tip that’s round at all thick corners, nanami’s leaking.

milky, pearls of whiteness dribble from the fleshy sides of his fat cock and he grunts once he feels your shaky legs caging him in again.

god- you looked so pretty like this..

just laid back, wearing nothing but his business shirt. all the buttons were unbuttoned so now—it was just you, breasts cutely sprung out and all.

gently grabbing his face once more, you mumble against his flushed temple. “inside, it’s okay. go inside,” and your sweet words were like a chant.

he’s slow-

carefully aligning his maroon tip between your syrupy slit, feeling it clumsily slip out every few thrusts.

you even reached between your legs with a single hand, spreading your pussy open right before his eyes. “don’t be… shy, she doesn’t bite, kento.”

“hhh.. woman- you’re gonna be the death of me,” nanami gulps, openly staring at the slippery heat stick between your legs.

he didn’t know which action had him feeling hotter. your filthy words, you, or the way you spread yourself open for him with just two, cute fingers.

two twinned digits pried your lower lips apart, and he grunts once the swollen head of his cock snugly pops its way past your gummy barrier.

“hngh,” nanami sucks his teeth, pressing his forehead against yours. his palm rests on your tummy before he gives you a tender glance. “is this . . alright?”

chewing on your lip, you moan out a, “y- yeah.” before touching the back of his hand.

nanami’s face softens before he eases himself further inside, squeezing past that cute ring of your entrance that’s just always oh-so tight!

nanami was as round as a teddy bear. a few years into your loving marriage you noticed how he started growing a soft bear-type body, especially with the winter rolling around.

not that you minded, he was the perfect subject for cuddling. in this case, though, he was perfect for gradually placing his weight on you—to which you always ended up loved.

with his dress shirt all wrinkled and unkempt thanks to you, nanami sheathed his face inside of your neck. “g- goddd, ‘s like when i’m inside i feel even hotter.”

the love curse ran through all nanami’s veins, including invading near his bloodstream and every jabbing axon that continued to pulse through his achingly, hot skin.

eventually through . . after a very long three minutes, his gravelly pants started to turn more and more raspy.

browned eyes of nanami’s turn tender at your gaze once you grab both sides of his face, rubbing circles around his hollow cheeks with the soft tips of your thumbs. “don’t hide, look at me.”

“heh- yes ma’am.” he gruffly whispers, tilting his cheek, leaning into your touch.

nanami was on top of you, glued to you entirely as if both bodies were made of pasty adhesive. with your ankle running down his back, it took everything within him to not moan.

every part — every single part of his body felt insanely sensitive to your touch.

nanami would occasionally bite his lip, finding his eyes rolling upward or even letting off a ‘phewww’ just from being a few inches inside of your intoxicating cunt.

as his cock’s driving its way inside at a slow pace, you watch nanami’s blond brows twist into a furrowing curve.

he’s sucking in every breath that tries to escape from him, groaning at each inch that sloppily disappears between your puffed folds. without even taking a glance—nanami could feel how wet you were, and not only were you preparing to milk him dry, but you were also drowning every girthy inch of his cock with all slick amounts of your pretty mess.

he didn’t have to look down because he could just feel – feel your compellingly, vulgar squelches, feel each slosh that sobs between your cunt folds, feel each pulsating throb that would convulse against your clit.

you’re just so damn pretty though..

staring back at him as he’s trying to make his way inside, nanami ends up getting lost in your gummy orifice that’s desperately clinging onto him as if its life depended on it. it’s almost cute..

“f- fuuck.” you’d whine, tugging at his ruffed-up cerulean collar. peering your eyes a bit, you see a bit of faded lipstick marks that were from you earlier this morning.

you smile to yourself, knowing nanami would always proudly show off those marks to any woman who dared look in his direction.

within a few inches deep, nanami’s creating an unforgettable gap that stretches your cunt fully open. he keeps his hooded eyes on you, pressing a few encouraging pecks near your plump, kiss-bitten lips.

he’s never felt so hot..

nanami snaps his hips into you once- just once, and he lets off the prettiest moan.

it sounds more like a whine—it pitches a bit higher than usual and he falls face flat into your chest.

you get sheepish, wrapping your arms around him before feeling him grunting between your breasts. “honey, i think i just . . came.”

“oh,” you breathe, and sure enough, you felt a lukewarm batch of cum starting to pool its way inside of you. your legs remained snaked around his waist and you could feel nanami’s ashamed pout stretch against your chest. you pat his head, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “it’s . . okay, ‘ken.” and he’s kissing all between the slope that runs down your soft tits—his comfort place.

you hum, lifting his head and watching him grumpily pout with loose blond strands running down his eyes. “i can always take the lead if you’re too sensitive.”

“please..”

♡ ♡ ♡

nanami looks up at you with a timid expression, his hands restrained at each side of the bed. gulping deeply, he watches as your slick-glossed cunt just barely floats over his creamy white tip. from the coral-colored sides, it’s a blushing pink…itching for you to be inside again.

just a single inch or the mere feeling of you swiping your entrance back ‘n forth against the peeling hood of cock makes him groan. “handcuffs, honey? this is quite…eh- kinky, no?” nanami raises an ash brow with a weary smile, soft, dusky eyes never leaving yours.

in fact—each time you run your hands down the open slit of his shirt that exposes his blond growing chest hair, he shudders.

just a few fingertips of yours alluringly ghosting down his skin was enough to make him melt. through semi-blurred peripherals, he spots a bright color that sticks against his wrists. “they’re . . pink,” he chuckles, “and fuzzy.”

“it came in the mail yesterday,” you coo at his observation, inching your face closer and starting to kiss down his neck. nanami inhales before sighing in rapture, positioning his head to the side so you could have a better angle and it’s unintentionally sexy. “it’s not too tight…is it?”

“it’s fine,” nanami shakes his head, preparing to take another deep breath once the opening of your pussy starts to sloppily split its way ajar.

you’re sinking on his shaft and he lets out a husky grumble—bulky muscles flexing through his biceps as his arms stretched across both sides of the leather headboard. “mmgh- atta girl. like that- like . . that.” and his voice seductively lowers an octave at every inch.

it was almost hypnotic at how much you were soaking him. truly, you were already soaked but now that your cunt was accepting his vast tip that was descending its way further inside of you, nanami wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last.

profusely, your pretty pussy was drowning him. nanami’s muscles continued to bulge through his shirt as he slouched back against the mattress, watching your hips starting to moderately pick up.

“s- sooo big.” you moan, the stretch wholly expanding through your walls. sometimes—you don’t think you’d ever get used to nanami’s size, let alone his thick, parting stretch.

clicking his tongue, nanami takes every second he can just to stare and openly admire your body.

effortless, you were just effortless with every moment you did.

every twirl, every toss and dip of your hips had him hungry for only more – more of you.

as your pace maintained its rocky rhythm, his eyes found themselves trailing further down, pausing between the crack of your pried-open legs.

seconds pass and they’re now leisurely making their way up your chest, pausing right between your plush rounded mounds.

you still had his business shirts as you rode him, and your tits freely sprung as your hips started to grind quicker. as your hips pathetically stuttered, so did the wooden legs of the bed. “hng- puttin’ me in handcuffs just so i can’t touch my hah- pretty wife, hm?”

nanami tries to joke, but you could already see him breaking a sweat once his cock explores deeper inside of your cunt – zigzagging a bumpy pattern all through your inside.

it’s making sure every part of you from the inside memorizes his hits, sloppy thrusts and all, and fuck- were you about to collapse right then and there.

the sides of nanami’s forehead were already heavily covered in perspiring sweat. with lush tears dribbling down every crevice and corner, nanami starts to huff.

“but baby, you always touch me,” you lively tease, tossing both arms over his tense, pent-up shoulders.

the bed lowly creaks every second, constantly dipping from all the constant movements and pounds that jolt against the rickety aged boxspring.

its constant croaky groans sounded almost painful—and the quicker your hips swerved around and bounced, the louder it cried in the background from both jerking bodies.

nanami pouts, shaking his head and you make him nod by cupping his chin. “yeah, you do.” you then surprise a part of his neck with wet, balmy kisses.

nanami gruffly grunts, desperately wishing his hands were roaming down every part of your body. tending to every part, allowing his fingers to explore every part.

he’d caress circles around your ass—guiding his callused, rough fingers up up up before they eventually reach near your waistline.

with a clingy grip, he’d start to rock your hips faster into him, making sure he pumps all nth inches deep inside until you’re babbling out incoherent cacophonies of his name and how you’re just so full..

but you noticed—nanami’s eyes were only focused on only one thing. your soft, perked breasts that bounced at the exact second your body did.

at each powerful hop and slam of your hips, they playfully jiggled, flopping against your chest. they were nearly smushed right in his face, and oh- he could feel his mouth shamefully watering at just imagining them being in his mouth.

“closer, sweetheart,” he grunts, tilting his head down since he couldn’t exactly use his hands.

you were riding him at such godly speed, swerving your hips at such frantic intervals while wetly clamping down on his cock.

nanami always filled you to the brim with all of him, poking right through your slickly dripping orifices with every bouncy thrust.

once more, it makes his head spin, but all he’s focused on is your chest that was staring straight back at him. “f- fuuuck, ‘m still h.. hot. i think- i think suckin’ on them will help me cool off, sweetheart.”

saucily cooing, you lick a stripe down his neck as your hips accelerated. as you continued to speak, your voice started to get a bit bumpy from the unsteady movement of your jouncing ass.

“oh- is that what you wanted all this time, ‘ken? to suck on these?” and he watches as you lean back, cupping your tits with the smuggest smile plastered on your lips.

your hands sneak down between your unbuttoned shirt before you silently mewl, giving them a nice good squeeze. “imagine jus’ how plumper they’d be after i have your baby, kento.”

“h.. honey- you’re lucky ‘m handcuffed.” bronze eyes trace down your skin, stopping at your perked nipples.

they were oh-so-perfect.. and as you’re straddled over his lap, nanami couldn’t help but let his mind wander just a bit. he couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander near the very lewd lobe of his brain.

the mental image of you baring his child . .

his wife, you.

nanami grunts at the thought, wordlessly gasping in multiple honed breaths at the fierce clashes of sharp skin.

your hips were disgustingly brutal, and with the way your thighs clung onto him, you were nearly akin to a magnet – forevermore sticking against nanami, never wanting to let go.

“c’mooon,” the blond playfully whines in a gruff voice, his cock stiffening inside of you. “don’t hah- make me beg, sweet girl.”

“you make me beg,” you chaff, slowing your hips down just a bit. nanami grunts at your catty truth, feeling the weight of you gradually hover before you roughly buck right into him.

using all of your core, his leaking tip smears its way against your clit in an almost pretty heart shape and you stutter out a moan.

your syllables of each broken moan were a bit choppy as you were shooting blanks, arching your back against him. even as you’re still riding him, putting all pounds of movement from your body into your sprawled knees, you kept touching yourself.

seeing you guide your hands all over your body in such a sensual way, made nanami kiss his teeth.

in envy though - those should’ve been his hands..

“allll. the. time.” you finish your sentence in a spirited whisper, whispering against the twitching left side of his ear.

each thrust becomes increasingly sloppy with your grip getting more slick ‘n wet — glossed which such sticky amounts of your tangled juices.

each squashing slop! that squelches from between the arc your legs get louder, causing your thighs to nearly clamp together from the tender stimulation.

cupping your tits again, you bring them up to nanami’s face. “go ‘head.”

“woman.. you’re evil,” nanami muffles, getting a face full of your breasts. you hold onto them tight, watching as nanami brings his face closer until he’s shoved right between them. a sweet crooning groan slithers from his lips as his tongue fervently curls its way down toward your nipple.

sloppily, you feel him casually swirling greedy circles around your pulsating gland before switching to the other one.

nanami’s lashes close as you’re still rocking your hips forward, nearly riding him into utter ‘n erotic oblivion..

at this point—you thought the bed was about to break, devastatingly snapping into two due to how good you were putting your hips to use.

“mmpf- so pretty. all mine, m- mine,” he rasps between wet slurps, his wrists still trapped in pretty pink handcuffs. the woolly fur tickles against his skin as his tongue continues to rove shapes around your nipples. “need to get these girls plump… quickly.”

your tits remained grasped in your hands as you’re moaning from nanami’s tongue, and you now start to rut into him at a much more hurried pace.

nanami hungrily drives his cock all through your core, creating a near race-track path that smothers invisible kisses all against your g-spot.

every inch, he’s fat- and his even lengthier girth nearly makes your brain short-circuit for a minute. every wild jam of your hips feels like its last, and nanami’s already drooling.

treacly, sweet saliva pours from the corners of his lips as he’s sucking on each of your tits, muffled gargled moans and whines vibrating against your tepid flesh..

your body had adapted to a more steady rhythm, but you could feel his dick eagerly twitch inside of you every few rushed seconds.

a bit of drool ends up running down his mouth, landing on his polka-dotted tie, creating a gray dampening spot. it’s cute, and you rub a thumb over his thin lips, watching his tawny, soft eyes flutter back open.

it’s the look of love- and nanami could feel himself heating up more once your gaze meets his again.

for a moment, he had completely forgotten about the dumb curse because he was too busy lost in your gaze.

but his temperature started to increase. you let off a bundle of whiny mewls once you feel him nip the top row of his teeth against your nipple.

“s- so cute,” he purrs lowly, feeling your knobbly thighs get closer and closer to giving out. just a few more thrusts and you’d probably be done for.

“mmp-” he pops out your left nipple with his swollen wet lips, glancing at you. nanami looked like he’d just run a marathon with blond strands glossing strips across his forehead. grunting, he starts to pant like a greyhound, sliding a tongue over his lips. “you’re close, honey?”

“m- mhm!” you’d reply, your voice turning raw at each straining moan that leaves from your poor chords.

his cock was massaging everywhere, it didn’t miss a single spot. it’s tip was widely turgid, angrily crimson-red, and leaking from all veiny sides while narrowly delving into you raw.

nanami’s kneading through your guts, tending to each gummy part of your entrance to make you whimper out his name. from every deep, vigorous pump that profoundly batters inside of your pussy, your eyes cross.

you’re dumbfounded—dumb in general too from the way he facilely located every sensitive spot with just the stubby tip of his shaft.

including your pretty cervix - nanami made sure his cock smacked its way there a few times.

the deep pressure pounding inside of you, greeting every single spot inside of your pussy never failed to make your knees quickly buckle.

“f- fuck, fuck there ‘ken, theretherethereee,” you start to babble, the bumps of his tip making your jaw goofily hang. “ ‘m cum- ‘m gonna cummm.”

“haah- together, sweetheart. can you . . finish with me?” nanami murmurs in a throaty voice, kissing your neck.

he tried to lift his head but got slightly pulled back from the fuzzy handcuffs.

he’s molding your insides fully with his cock, squinting a bit at the crescent-shaped moon that hides behind the violent bed curtain.

that view was nice but the view currently in front of him, riding him.. ‘curing’ him from whatever curse this was was far a better sight.

you.

with a whine preparing to squeal from your throat, you give him a nod.

nanami tilts his head, tsking impishly with his smacking lips despite how he was just as sensitive as you. “ah- you know how i feel about head nods, princess. i wanna hear those pretty words.”

“y.. yes ken, ‘kentoooo,” you moan, gasping once you feel two things at once. your stomach tightly seizing and your sloppy cunt restricting around his meaty, stocky length.

it’s so good, soso good that you softly bite into nanami’s shoulder. he hums, groaning right with you before you continue. “ ‘m cummin. ‘m fuckin’ cumming, kento.”

“i know.. i know, c’mere, girl,” he whispers, his face softening once your eyes immediately lock with him. “my sweet… girl.” his pitch lowers, and you decrease the distance between the two of you.

once again, your lips meet nanami’s but this time, it’s far more aggressive and less passionate.

it’s only one word and it’s – sloppy.

your body’s weakly rolling against him, losing its rhythm as the two of you end up finishing together, competing with each other’s inevitable high.

it all felt like a slow … rush.

as you were both drinking each other’s never-ending moans and grunts, the puddled, gooey mess began.

at the same time though, your legs ended up finally collapsing as your swollen, plump lips attacked against his - harshly.

nanami’s lips were almost competing with yours, mashing against your lips with the occasional rows teeth of teeth clash clash clashing away.

it’s loud, sloppy, messy..

the peppermint taste that still lingers in his mouth travels against your buds and you moan. nanami groans, spraying a geyser of bittersweet strips of hot cum inside of you as both tongues continue to explore each other’s mouths.

it’s a straight shot—it travels deep, introducing your womb with a fresh amount of cum as you end up letting go at the same time.

both sets of hearts fluttered as you pressed against his chest, racing frantic beats per minute as you melted the dozenth kiss he presented to your lips.

it’s hot- nanami’s rawly plunging into you as you whine against his lips, barely feeling your hips rutting into him anymore.

you’re just straddling him now – yet he’s still plugging you full with such massive inches of cock, with the addition of his creamy, gloopy seed that drizzles a sloppy white ring around his base.

your fingers wisp down his undercut, as he continues to quietly ravage your walls. it was a slick, slimy knot that buries itself deep inside of your pussy.

you’re moaning, slowly breaking away from his mouth that had strings of saliva clinging near the bottom of his glossed lip. panting heavily, you crane your head, taking a quick peek down at your ass.

it’s a mess, and as his carmine-colored tip slips out of you, it lightly smacks against his tummy.

ribbons of cum paint near the very undersides of your thighs, pouring out between your syrupy slit in such a slow yet filthy manner. time nearly stood still, and nanami went silent, staring at the gooey wads ‘n wads buttery cum that oozes out of your pretty, fluttering cunt.

“are you okay?” nanami sighs, feeling you reach for the handcuff key that rests near the rosy nightstand. you remove them, and he twirls his wrists in a circle before looking at you with kind eyes.

“ ‘m okay.” you reassure him, cupping his face and kissing the right side of his cheek.

nanami’s exhausted—especially after how good you just rode him.

your dripping cunt hovers against his happy trail and sheeny clenched abs as he lazily lies back, finally grabbing your hips. “good . . good,” and with a huff, he sheepishly smiles. “i guess i . . hah- failed no nut november, huh.”

“eh- there’s always next year,” you bring a chaste, sweet kiss to his quivering, pouty lips.

♡ ♡ ♡

surrounded by nothing but bodies of water featuring sods of glittery clear bubbles, you now found yourself lying against nanami’s broad chest. burly, swole arms envelope around your body as the two of you were in the ivory, spacious bathtub. as the water ran against your skin, soothing your aching muscles—you let off a sigh once he finished washing you off.

“i think it wore off,” his warm voice tickles against your skin. nanami kisses down your nape, reaching near the side of the tub where a bowl of fresh muscat grapes lies. tearing a few off the vine, he brings them toward your lips. “the curse . . pollen, whatever it was.”

“mmpf- did it?” you eat from his hand, feeling his wet palm softly rub against your chin. the smell of rich jasmine hits your nostrils as you let off a satisfied hum at the sugary sweet flavor. nanami’s body held you close, feeling your damp body lightly plop against his chest. you feel a bit of his chest hair land against your skin before you swallow. “do you still feel hot?”

nanami pops another grape into your mouth, then into his. “no, sweetheart. i’m fine now, thanks to you,” and you feel his left arm hook around your waist. the blond reclines back against the tub’s icy marble-made wall before sighing. “how do you feel, though? any cramps or body aches i should be aware of?”

with a content suspire drifting away from your parted lips, you move a bit in the calm, lukewarm water — closer toward the back of his chest.

“i’m okay, kento. althooough,” and you give him a playful nudge. “my legs still feel sore.”

“forgive me, honey,” nanami rests his chin against your shoulder. there was a bit of jest in his tone, and you could hear him trying not to snicker.

again, always the gentleman though.

“i’ll give you a massage once we get out of the tub, my treat.” and you let off a sigh, feeling him creep a few fingers up your thigh.

“hmm, okay,” you comply with a sight sigh, sneaking a kiss near the edge of his lips. nanami blinks thrice, his face flushing a bit before you cup his face with wet hands.

“i was serious you know. about . . what i said earlier. us settling down and–,” and nanami deeply stares into your eyes as you speak.

you rub a wet thumb against his sharp cheekbone before continuing, abruptly cutting your cute rambling short, ending with a sincere, “i love you, kento.”

tilting his head against your palm, leaning into your embrace, nanami brings you toward him before kissing the crown of your head. “and i love you more,” and as you felt butterflies party in the lower pits of your stomach, nanami brings your hand up to his lips.

gently, he aligns his mouth perfectly near your fourth digit before giving you another kiss, this time—on your ring finger. “mrs. nanami.”

but oh- he wasn’t done..

as you’re feeling a wave of tenderness overwhelm your heart, nanami leans a bit down before kissing the center part of your tummy that drips with teary droplets.

his wetly compressed lips give it a quick peck and ‘mwah’ before keeping his head lowered. “i love her too.” you raise a brow, glancing as nanami’s chin hovers over the bubbles of water.

“her?” you lift a brow as he whispers multiple ‘i love you’s’ against your stomach as if he was already talking to something – or someone..

“yes, her,” nanami repeats, giving your tummy one more kiss before sitting back up, rubbing his palm over the center of your belly.

looking up at you, he notices your confused expression and smiles to himself. “oh, just a little hunch,” and you gasp once nanami picks you up softy, carrying you out the wet tub, the both of you soaking wet.

“now, how about that massage? i’m quite good with my hands, especially when it comes to my woman.”

[cuntyji]

the first video nanami ever posted was filmed on a shaky phone propped up against a bag of flour.

he was making bread—simple, easy, the kind of thing he found comfort in after long days at work. his hands moved methodically, kneading the dough with a quiet precision, and though he spoke very little, the video was oddly calming.

he hadn't expected much from it. maybe a few views, maybe a couple of people who’d appreciate the lack of unnecessary chatter. but the comments were overwhelmingly positive, people asking about his technique, his recipe, his voice—deep, smooth, effortlessly steady. so he made another video. then another.

it was the late-night upload of him singing "baby one more time" by the marías that changed everything.

filmed on an old macbook with a grainy webcam, the lighting barely enough to make out his face, the video had been an impulse decision—one he almost deleted. it was just him, sitting on his couch, his voice low and hushed, the way he usually sang to lull yuuji to sleep. but the internet clung to it like ivy, twisting and reaching until the video had over a million views by the end of the week.

"who is he." "why is this the most intimate thing i've ever heard in my life." "he looks exhausted and sounds like a dream, i'm in love."

he thought it would pass. but it didn't.

his subscribers doubled overnight. the demand for more was loud, insistent. nanami, being nanami, didn’t rush to meet it. instead, he structured it into his routine: one video a week, a mix of baking and singing—because baking was reliable, and singing had never been something he shared outside of yuuji’s bedtime.

his channel evolved. the baking videos became polished, edited with subtle precision. he switched to voiceovers, explaining each step in that same low, deliberate tone that made people feel like he was speaking just to them. and when he sang, it was always songs that carried a quiet sort of nostalgia.

"he only sings songs he sings to his kid to sleep i’m crying." "his lullabies are better than half the music industry." "i don’t know his name, his age, or his face properly, but i know his banana bread recipe by heart."

nanami never explicitly talked about being a single dad, but it was impossible to miss. yuuji’s voice sometimes made cameos in the background, muffled questions about homework, laughter when nanami burnt the edges of a cake. he didn’t hide it, didn’t play it up. it was just a part of his life, and his audience adored him for it.

his faq video—one of the few times he ever directly addressed personal questions—answered almost nothing.

"are you married?" "no." "how old are you?" "old enough." "what's your name?" "nanami."

the mystery only made people more obsessed.

"i know nothing about him but i’d die for him." "his hands. his voice. his existence." "the fact that he bakes and sings for his kid and still won’t tell us his age is crazy."

he now posted twice a week. one video was always baking, the other was whatever he wanted—sometimes music, sometimes a quiet q&a, sometimes just a video of him making tea while rain hit the windows.

people knew everything and nothing about him at the same time. they knew the exact ratio of brown sugar he preferred in cookies but not what city he lived in. they knew he tucked yuuji in every night with a song but had never seen his full face in a single frame. they knew the precise cadence of his voice when he said “and that’s how you make the perfect loaf” but had never heard him say “i love you”—and yet, somehow, they felt like they had.

the internet had fallen in love with him. and nanami, quietly, without even trying, had changed his life with nothing but flour-dusted hands and the sound of his own voice.

[mywritersmind]

THEY DONT KNOW IT - LN4

summary : She’s a popstar who’s being oggled by the same grid who doesn’t believe Lando has a chance with her. In a simple quiet conversation, Lando fixes that.

listen up : lando norris x popstar!reader. mentions of sex. reader wrote bed chem!!

word count : 629

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“You hear who’s in the paddock today?” Oscar eyes Lando as he joins the group of drivers. They all look suspiciously giddy.

“No…?” Lando eyes them, It’s Carlos who’s grinning and speaks up first.

“Y/n L/n.” the spaniard whispers.

Lando raises a brow as Alex nods to his girlfriend talking to you, “She’s a super famous singer right? Lily loves her.”

“Very pop.” Charles adds in.

“Very hot.” Franco says as they all turn to him, “What? You were all thinking it.” a surge of jealousy goes through Lando. Obviously he knows people think you’re hot, he’s the fan club president. But Franco saying it makes him want to go over there and kiss you in front of the young driver.

Lando watches you move your hair behind your ear, assessing the little black dress you’ve got on. “Fuck.” is the only think Yuki can say.

“Hasn't she been to a couple races?” George adds, “For any reason or…” Lando wants to yell at them that you’re there for him.

“She’s a fan.” Charles says, “Hangs with Alex in the garage sometimes.”

You wonder if they know how obviously the group is looking at you. You turn and give them a little smile. Most of the guys look away except Lando, who waves.

“What the fuck?” Carlos makes a face.

“Dude-” Max laughs as Lando looks around at the group.

“What?”

“Give up now.” Alex shrugs.

“Excuse you?” Lando crosses his arms over his racing suit, “You think I don’t have a chance?” They all start laughing, “Fuck you, lot!”

Alex grins, “Don’t let netflix hear.”

Carlos slaps his hand onto his friends shoulder, “Mate… she’s just so- and you’re so… it’s not made to be.”

Lando just scoffs, “Don’t pout!” Max laughs, “I’m pretty sure she’s the only girl out of your reach.”

“You don’t know about Nadia?” Alex grins.

Max gives him a confused look but turns back to Lando, except when he does, he realizes he’s already gone and walking towards you.

You smile when you see Lando, he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you in for a quick hug, “Hi.” His eyes linger on you before smiling kindly at Lily.

“I’ll be back, Y/n. Lando keep your distance.” She points to the driver before walking away.

“The guys don’t think I have a chance with you.” He whispers into your ear, his hand still on your waist.

You laugh a bit, glancing at the men who are all staring at you two. “So naive.” he laughs a bit, tilting his head down.

A curl goes into his face and you resist the urge to push it back. “I’m happy you’re here.” this makes your cheeks go a bit pink. Funny, you’ve been sleeping together for months and he can say the tinest thing to get you to blush.

“I’m happy I'm here too. Win for me?”

“What do I get if I do?” His hand backs off your waist a bit, clearly aware of the eyes on you.

You look up at him, his eyes greener than ever, “Whatever you want?”

His brows go up, “Whatever?”

The corner of your mouth quirks, “Within reason.”

“Not much reason between the two of us.” You roll your eyes and back away from him so you’re no longer touching.

“Go run back to your friends and giggle about how a pretty girl kissed you.”

“But you didn’t-” He gets cut off by your lips on his cheek. He’s grinning ear to ear as you walk away, waving a bit.

When Lando walks back to the guys they’re gobsmacked, “Tell me you didn't just meet her today.” Charles practically pleads.

He laughs at their faces, “Have you ever heard the song, bed chem?”