#Because while this is not going to be the final thing and is just for me - that is also a thing that I need to sort out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wcters · 22 hours ago

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𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗜𝗡 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 2k+

summary: your relationship with lando through the teenage years

warnings: pda, established relationship, mostly fluff, some angst | i know lando moved to glastonbury later in his life but 🤫 i also wrote this in 2 hours instead of doing because i got excited and had an idea

You and Lando had first met when you were teenagers. Him being a lanky teenage boy with puffy cheeks and curly hair, and you being a young girl with frizzy hair and a youthful look in your eyes. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone when you first started dating, it’s like you both were on the same wavelength.

You still remember the day you met him ━━ how could you not? You two went to the same school so you knew who each other was, and you had heard of him from people around the town talking about his karting career. Your parents were family friends with the Norris’s, and they never failed to talk about how proud they were of their children.

It was the start of school after the 2013 summer break. You had quite a small friend group in school so when you had classes with no one you were friends with, you tended to be quiet and focus on your school work. That resulted in you being forced to sit next to the rowdy kids. Why? You didn’t know. It’s not like it changed them, and it just bothered you. It was one of those times, and it was Lando who was put next to you. Him and his friend group tended to be the disruptive bunch. They weren’t bad people or bad at school, just got a little too loud at times and forgot to pay attention.

You were sat in the middle row of your math class. The seat next to you was empty at the start of class, but at the end it wasn’t. Lando and his friends got a little too loud and he was “punished” by being put next to you so he couldn’t talk with his friends. You looked at him when he made his way over, but that was it. He was cute ━━ you could admit it. And it didn’t hurt that someone cute was being put next to you, but you shook your feelings off and forced yourself to focus. At them end of class when you were grabbing your things, a hand poked your shoulder. You turned around and came face-to-face with the Norris boy. He looked a little nervous, fidgety and a small smile on his face. You tilted your head. “Hey ━━ I uh ━━ didn’t have enough time to finish some of the notes. Do you mind if I borrow some of yours?”

You were a little surprised, you didn’t think he cared that much about school. Most kids wouldn’t bother getting down a little bit you missed ━━ not even you ━━ but he did. You smiled and nodded. “Sure,” you told him as you grabbed the paper out of your binder and gave it to him, “just return it once you’re done?” He nodded. The next day in class, he walked over to you and gave the paper pack, and you figured he would go back to his friends because the seat want permanent, but he didn’t. He put his bag on the ground and sat in the seat next to you. He did that, every day, for the rest of the year.

You two got to know each other well. You learned more about his competitive karting career and his family, while you told him about your family and friends. Nothing ever happened between you two, you were just friends. You had a crush on him, but you convinced yourself it was your mind tricking you because it was your first friend that was a boy. He thought the same, but he didn’t not believe his, he just didn’t act on it.

It was summer break, a year after you met him, when you realized you did like him. You were chatting with your grandma at her house as you were helping her sting stuff around the house. She had asked about your school semesters and how it was. You rambled on and on, not realizing that you mostly takes about Lando. It wasn’t until you were putting one of the last boxes down for her that it finally hit. “You must really like that boy, no?” You looked at her weird. “All you did was talk about him. You must like him.” It was when she said that that you had a moment of realization. After you finished helping her you went home to your mom and talked to her, confused on how to deal with this newfound information. She just laughed and gave you a hug, telling you that almost every teenage girl goes through this with someone in their life. That made you feel a bit better.

Your friendship turned into something more a couple weeks after that. The Norris family had invited your family to come watch one of Lando’s races at Buckmore Park. Your parents agreed as they wanted to catch up . . . You agreed because you wanted to see Lando. He did well, coming 5th place. You could tell he wasn’t happy about, but you were. You and your family met up with him at the end of the race. He wasn’t looking too happy, but when he saw you his face lit up. When you congratulated him he blushed. Your families talked for a bit ━━ mostly about how summer break was going ━━ and you were about to leave when Lando called out your name.

Your family continued to leave, saying they would meet up with you at the car with your mom winking at you. You blushed. At first there was some awkward silence, and then he asked “would you like to go on a date?” You were a bit shocked, not expecting it, and you were nervous. What did people do on dates anyway? You know adults went out to eat and drink but you were fifteen! You completely forgot that you had to answer his question, and he started sputtering out words saying that you didn’t have to, and he was sorry before you interrupted him with a “yes.” It was his turn to look surprise.

You went on a date the next week, both of you unknowingly doing the same thing and panicking to your parents beforehand. It went fine, a bit awkward ━━ obviously ━━ but you thought it was cute. You went out for icecream and walked around Bristol. Halfway through the date he slipped his hand into yours, and you accepted it, but didn’t dare to look him in the eye.

After that, you two were inseparable. You two were always together, and practically lived at each others houses. Sometimes ━━ for weeks on end ━━ your parents never saw you a lot because you were always at Lando’s house. His parents always updated yours on how you were, and they trusted you. During an interview for Drive to Survive, your parents swore during those times they only saw you in the morning and night, the rest of the time you were with Lando. This would switch between you staying at his and him staying at yours.

Though Lando wouldn’t admit it when he was a teenager, he would do anything for you. If you asked him to jump off a bridge, he wouldn’t even ask why, he’s just do it. There are so many pictures on your phone and Polaroids of him in “embarrassing” situations ━━ like one where he had a face mask on and his nails painted. You keep that one in the back of your phone case. He would let you braid his hair, practice makeup on him, help him with his skincare, and so many other things. This would always be in the secrecy of your room and when your families weren’t there because he dreaded the day his family saw him like that.

He had no idea that you had shown his sisters and parents almost every single one. They promised to keep it quiet, and they did. You also know they won’t tell him that they have some of those pictures on their phones. It’s a secret between you and them, a need to know thing.

Whenever you had sleepovers at his house, you would stay with his sisters because you weren’t allowed to be with him ━━ for good reason ━━ and because you loved his sisters. As you got older, you bonded more with them, helping them out with boy problems and girl problems, because everyone had those girls in high school who made your life a living hell. You broke down crying when you found out they were moving to Glastonbury. How would you survive without not being able to hug your boyfriend? How would you cope without the gossip sessions with his sisters? The talks about your life over helping Cisca with dinner and talking politics with Adam? Laughing at embarrassing moments of Lando with his brother?

Before that, you had put off getting your license. You walked or took buses to most places, and it saved you money. When you found out they were moving though, you made it your life’s mission it get your license and a car. You were on moving day, helping the family with setting things up and cleaning up the place. You still remember the dinner you had that night. It wasn’t fancy, just Chinese takeout on a table in the half put together living room, but it was one of the moments where you truly felt like family. It wasn’t that you hadn’t before, but it was the private ness of the situation that really hit your heart. You begged to stay over, not caring that it was a school night, but you couldn’t. You hugged everyone goodbye with teary eyes, kissing Lando, and promising to be back soon.

And you were. When you had that car, you spent an unbelievable amount of money on gas. You drove to his house almost every weekend. Sometimes he would come over to your house, but it was mostly you going over there out of convenience. If Lando wanted to go to yours, he’d probably have to pile all of his siblings in the car, while you didn’t have to do that. Besides driving to Glastonbury, your car was also used as a pick me up. Whenever something happened with his sisters, you’d be there in a heartbeat, telling them to get in ━━ telling Lando he can’t come with him grumbling something under his breath ━━ and you’d go and grab food. Whatever they needed, you were there ready to do it? Boy problems? Junk food and a sad playlist. School problems? Listening to them vent and giving them advice. Period problems? That depended on that they wanted. You even remember one time on March break Flo had an experience with a boy and you took her to a rage room . . . It was so fun, and you definitely did it again with Cisca.

While you were there for all the important events in Lando’s life, he was the same. He was there when your grandma died, and you swore he was one of the few things that kept you together. He was there when you graduated high school and got accepted into your dream school.

Your relationship stayed the same throughout his whole career, you to where you both were now, living in Monaco. You still acted like teenagers, jokingly fighting over little things and teasing each other. Your love baver wavered, it stayed the same for each other, maybe even became stronger. There were periods in your relationship like when he first started in Formula One and you moved to college that it was tricky, but you go through it. You always would.

As you sat on the sofa in your home and twirled the ring on your finger, you remembered the whole of your relationship and the future of it. You were broken out of your trance by a kiss on your head. You hummed, not turning to look at him. “She’s gone to bed. She’s been changed and given her bottle. You smiled and looked up at him, “thank you.” He kissed you on your lips, “of course. You ready to go to bed, Mrs. Norris?” You chuckled and got up, walking around to the couch to meet him in his arms.

“Always, Mr. Norris, always.”

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beloveds-embrace · 2 days ago

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so i have a habit of calling be love/babe/darling as a term of enderament (even in friendships) and was wondering how the dukedom guys would react to being called love or darling by the reader for the first time? I grt it probably wasnt as socially acceptable back then but the thought still plaques my mind

Historical accuracy who? We don’t know her shhh

Original post

But they’d love it! At first, you had tried really hard to stop yourself and semi-succeeded by only calling your maids like that. Your parents always hated that habit of yours, a leftover from your nanny’s own habit. They had warned you again and again and again to not let your tongue run, to keep your words polite and demure, only fallen women working in brothels would speak so freely.

And you did keep it under control for a good while; with your interactions few with John, you could remind yourself not to let your tongue loose and call him honey right off the bat when he simply calls you by your name. It’s harder with Kyle, you almost slip and call him darling, same with Johnny. With Simon it’s easier because on the times he visits, you leave him to his meetings with John and don’t bother them. (Or what you thought were business meetings at that time lol)

But once they start getting closer to you, it’s inevitable that the nicknames start slipping out.

“Kyle, darling-“ you are rushing today, and the words slip out before you realize. You just spare a thought to wonder why he’s frozen solid like that. “Where is my hairpin? I was so sure we left it on my vanity?”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you say to Johnny when he brings you a platter of fresh deserts while working, not lifting your head from the papers in front of you other than to flash him a quick, grateful smile. You don’t notice how long it takes before Johnny stutters out a ‘welcome, m’lady’ and leaves you be.

“Simon, honey?” You ask on another occasion, voice too worried to notice what you’d called him. No maids around, and no one would question you calling you husband’s ‘close friend’ by his name in your home. “Is your leg okay? You are leaning on it too much, shall I call the doctor?” His silence is typical to you, but too busy fussing over his leg, you don’t see his face. Until you look up, eyes widening at his averted eyes and red-tipped ears. “Are you sick, Simon? You should be resting instead, you know?”

And at last… “John, love,” you sigh softly, controlling the tremble of your limbs. You look away from the newspaper, though you believe it should just be called a glorified gossip magazing, and close your eyes. Duke Price’s Duchess remains barren of a child! Is a divorce in their future? “It’s alright, it is what it is-“ you try to calm him.

Up until now, from the moment you’d both read the headline, John had been fuming. He wasn’t loud in his anger, but it was clear in his ticking jaw and clenched fists. So you expect him to continue in his anger.

“…I will deal with it.” John promises, voice low but no longer a rolling thunder. He sits down calmer now, when you finally open your eyes to look at him. He’s simply gazing at you, and his hands clench in the air before he sets them down on the table. “They won’t be slandering you any longer, wife. I promise you.”

You wish you could pinpoint what soothed him, but alas. Though you know he will try his best and maybe this news agency won’t make anymore comments like this about you, others will still continue to do so.

“It’s alright.” You repeat, but the words ring hollow and the smile on your face is empty. You push your plate away. “Now, if my husband permits it, I don’t believe I can stomach much more.”

“You never need my permission for such things,” he tells you; a sentiment he’d told you from the very first day. His face softens. “Go rest. Today, I will take care of everything that needs to be done.”

Darling, sweetheart, honey, love… they wonder if you know how much those words repeat in their minds.

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lesamis · 16 hours ago

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If you're up for it could you explain what is making the Germany government stuff so funny? I can find news articles about it (a coalition is dissolving? There's been tension for a while?) but they're all fairly serious. Thx!

ohhh, sure thing! i'll do my best!

i'll say upfront: this is a pretty serious thing to happen. our chancellor fired our minister of finance, Lindner, which definitively breaks up the governing coalition. germany will likely have snap elections at a moment in which far-right parties are polling extremely well. if news coverage about it seems like people are Worried, that's because, well, they are.

however. the reason it's funny is because our minister of finance was fired. ministers aren't really... ever fired. like, it's not a done thing. i'll fully admit i didn't even know it was an option until yesterday. and our minister of finance wasn't just anyone, he was one of the most mocked and hated figures in politics to germans who vote anywhere left of center.

the coalition that governed until yesterday was made up of the green party, the social democrats, and the neoliberal party (FDP). the FDP is infamous (and i mean, my parents already raised me to hate them for that) for playing kingmaker in coalition governments: they never get all that many votes, but they get just enough that whoever they agree to form a government with will probably succeed. they then tend to force extreme concessions from their coalition partners, because hey, if we walk off, you can't govern at all! so you better play along!

for the past three years, this behaviour has been extremely frustrating for germans who voted for greens or social democrats, because policy from their faction was constantly being blocked by the FDP and often by Lindner personally. the FDP received 11,5% of votes in 2021, but to many of us, it felt as if they were the only party who really had any say in the governing coalition. it made the green and social democratic coalition partners look spineless and passive.

and now, i invite you to imagine how on the day of the US election results, the day the whole world rolled their eyes at the sheer fucking stupidity and pointlessness of it all, at NINE IN THE EVENING, just as germans are getting ready to settle in to bed to dream of nightmare global politics -

the news suddenly breaks that our notoriously invisible chancellor just decided to fire Lindner for that exact behaviour. this chancellor comes out and says, on camera, to the entire sleepy nation, that acting the way Lindner did - blocking necessary policies, refusing to approve budgets unless his party's interests were met - was childish, selfish, irresponsible, and unfit for government, so, whoops, he had to go. shame. coalition over, i guess.

so, politically, that was a long-needed but never-expected moment of triumph for those of us who think the FDP is a clown show made up of human TESLA shares, and it came at a hysterically funny moment.

on a personal level, i can barely explain how uniquely hateable Lindner has always been. he's what would happen if a stock index graph came to life. he hates poor people with a relish; he mocks welfare recipients and would ax minimum wages in a second. he's everyone's business major roommate who shows up in boat shoes fresh off a yacht to discuss NFTs with you. throughout the entire time that he's used his rich boy policy blackmail strategy, he's been smug about it, and he was never taken to task for it, and millions of germans have been longing to throw rotten fruit in his face since 2017. and now we finally get to do it. via memes. on the day of trump's election win.

so that's why it's funny.

#like the cocktail of emotions that Hit last night is utterly indescribable #our chancellor is FAMOUS for not speaking. like that's his whole thing. i've heard him say words maybe twice before #and suddenly there he is. bald. hamburgian. fresh from what must have been the most horrific 15 hour workday of his life.#and just comes out and tells the most annoying bug of a human being in his coalition to fuck off. dare we say iconic #but yeah on the whole things are looking pretty bad 🥰 i'm just a hater so this is great for me #hope this makes sense anon! sorry it's a lot of words!#asks #anon #germany #politics #< for blacklisting purposes lmao

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tealvenetianmask · 3 days ago

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I want to talk about a kind of troubling reaction I've been seeing to both Apology Tour and Ghostfuckers among parts of the fandom. The person is usually a reaction youtuber but sometimes someone writing on tumblr or twitter. They say something along the lines of "oh, I'm glad Blitz is being forced to confront his crimes/traumas/pain. This is the only way he will finally heal."

That's not how healing works.

I know that reaction youtubers don't always have the most developed takes because they're . . . you know . . . reacting in the moment. But I think it's still worth talking about.

I'm going set aside the people who seem to believe that Blitz needs to be punished for his crimes, and address those who genuinely think that getting a tidal wave of his own trauma in his face is what he needs to heal.

There's an attitude in contemporary culture that traumas are something people need to confront. As in, put on a brave face and dive in like a big boy. I blame capitalism, rugged individualism, and all the pieces of media that tie up a character's arc neatly by having them confront their darkest fears and insecurities. It can put a nice bow on things, but it isn't really how healing from trauma works.

Apology Tour:

Blitz gets confronted by a shit ton of people who hate him, at least some of whom are his exes, who he feels he's personally damaged. The decor and party games are all about killing and torturing him. Verosika confronts him about how much he hurt her. Oh, and then he sees the love of his life, who he's just recently pushed away, making out with another guy- proof, in his eyes, that Stolas is happier without him. And this all reflects the underlying fears he already has about who he is as a person (shown to us by Truth Seekers).

So what was the takeaway? Blitz came to the conclusion that he doesn't always want to be like this (good, but like . . . worth this much pain?). He flops on his steering wheel (relatable). He stops trying to reach out to Stolas (uh oh . . . ). He spends A MONTH spiraling in his own misery and making a mess of all aspects of his life until he's dragged out of it by a caring friend.

The party doesn't empower Blitz to change. It knocks him down and fucking traumatizes him (seriously, images of Stolas from the party show up later in his trauma reel) too much for him to be able to do actually work toward said change. I suspect that if left to his own devices, he would have kept spiraling for quite a while longer. It's one thing to want to change, and another to try to do so alone in the aftermath of a pile-on.

Ghostfuckers

After Blitz drags himself out of his hole of cheesy ice cream and despair to "play sex ghosts" (escapism, again, still knocked down by Apology Tour), infester demon Rolando picks him out as an easy target and assaults him, yes, assaults, with horrific images of his worst traumas and fears.

Not to state the obvious, but Rolando isn't interested in helping Blitz heal. He's trying to kill the guy. He wants to engulf Blitz in his trauma to the extent where he's consumed by it and loses the will to fight back. And as some excellent posts by others have pointed out already, he very likely would have succumbed if not for Millie's support.

Millie helps Blitz get through the onslaught by telling him about what makes him great and how he's improved her life and showing him love and care. And by literally beating the fucking infester out of him. Because there's someone in him who's hurting him, who's re-traumatizing him against his will. She takes him away from the reel of horrible memories.

So . . . do I think that confronting traumas can play a role in healing? Sure. But only if it's consensually (which neither of these situations are) and when the person trying to heal is ready. And most likely in small doses. No one's going and successfully confronting every horrible thing that's ever happened to them in one go.

And in my humble opinion, it's not going to work (for anyone, but especially not for Blitz) alone and without a healthy dose of kindness and compassion (both external and internal).

Blitz has a long road ahead of him toward healing, and it's going to be hard work on his part but also require love and support from the people in his life.

In a wonderful moment near the end of Ghosfuckers, Blitz and Millie work together to get Blitz's wrecked van unstuck and push it back through the portal into Hell. I love it because it's so simple and it kind of tells us everything we need to know. This sweet and salty gremlin has a lot of work ahead of him, but he doesn't have to do it alone.

#ghostfuckers #apology tour #blitz #blitzo #blitzo buckzo #millie #rolando #stolitz #verosika #my helluva meta #helluva boss

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baronessvonglitter · 1 day ago

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Daddy Can Fix It

handyman!Joel Miller x fem!plus size!Reader

Word count: 5.4K

Summary: All the housewives in your neighborhood rave about the local handyman. And with very good reason.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is plus-size, wears dress and lingerie, has hair and body hair, and manicure. Reader's age not mentioned so there is only as much or as little of an age gap as you'd like. TW - fat shaming, food shaming, infidelity (by reader, and it's technically warranted) Pet names (daddy for Joel; sugar, darlin', baby, sweetheart for reader). Housewife/trad-wife vibes. Totally a bored housewife fantasy. Mention of female masturbation. Breast/nipple play, oral (f & m receiving). Fingering. Body worship. Pussy pronouns. Unprotected piv (Joel is snipped, but still.. this is fiction). Light spanking. Rough sex. Creampie. Joel's kind of a big ol' slut for the lonely housewives but is also really useful around the house, so you're definitely getting a good deal 🛠️

Author's note: it's been a hot minute since I've written a one-shot for Joel but it was impossible to resist. It all started because of this pic:

so yeah, Pinterest strikes again. How could I not write a Joel fic based on this? I hope y'all enjoy 💖

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"He can come clean my pipes anytime."

Raucous laughter erupts from the group of ladies huddled near the cupcakes at the latest book club meeting. You listen from the other side of the room where one of the older members is asking you to help her with her Kindle. "I never know how to keep up with all this fancy technology," Marion huffs, adjusting her bifocals.

You're trying to be patient with her, but the conversation across the room is far more intriguing. "It just needs to be charged. Your battery is low," you say three times before Marion can even hear you.

When you've managed to extricate yourself from her, you go up to the ladies and, with a friendly smile, join in. "I couldn't help overhearing."

Some of the women exchange glances, as if deciding to let you in on their convo or not. "Becky's just showing us that she got her kitchen cabinets redone," someone finally pipes up.

"That's not all she got," another starts to crack up.

You look at Becky's phone screen. The before and after shots of her cabinets are nothing short of miraculous. "That's great, Becky! I know you've been asking Gerald for a renovation for awhile," you tell her, hoping she'll be pleased you remember the plight she droned on about for weeks.

"It is great," she says, eyeing you with something like suspicion. "I have a very good handyman."

"He does everything," a nicer girl, Isabelle, chimes in.

"Boy does he," another mutters, hiding her smirk behind her cup of lemonade while the others giggle behind their hands.

Amirah adds, "He varnished my dining room table, power washed my driveway, helped organize my garage," she counts on her fingers. "He's good for little things around the house, and his prices are decent."

"It's like he's just giving it away," Becky says with a smirk and this gets the group laughing again.

"Maybe you can give me his information later," you say politely. "I have a laundry list of things that I need help with now that Wesley's working so much overtime."

The women eye one another, and it's Amirah, the leader of the group, who gives the definite nod. "Of course, sweetie. After the meeting."

"Great!" Smiling, you try to make your way through the group, saliva pooling in your mouth at the tower of red velvet cupcakes on the table spread. You reach for a couple more.

"You've already had three," Becky reminds you, casting a not-so-subtle glance at your body. Her voice sweet as honey but her words carry poison. You know you're not as thin or as glamorous as the other women in this room. You dress the same as them, wear your hair perfectly coiffed and your nails are always manicured, but just because you're not a size zero they deem you unworthy to truly be one of them.

You hold your head high with what little courage you have in the face of Becky's bitchiness, your sinful little cupcake in your hand. "I actually had three. And right now I'm about to make it five," you say sweetly, licking a swipe of cream cheese icing before putting two cupcakes on a china plate and going back to your seat.

That night, Wesley doesn't ask about your book club. He doesn't ask how your day was. He doesn't do much except pour himself a drink when he gets home and sit in front of the TV to watch the news.

You're dressed for bed, a modest robe over a red silk babydoll chemise, a purchase you'd made on a whim in the hopes that you could spice up your sex life with him which, truth be told, has never been more than lukewarm from the start.

"Do you think we should.. go to bed?" you suggest, a naughty tone to your whisper.

"It's early," he grunts, barely giving you a glance.

"I just thought we could spend some time together.." you brush your hand across his knee but he impatiently swipes it away.

"Please, darling, it's a weeknight," he looks at you as if you'd just suggested a threesome with him and the milk man. As he leaves the room he looks back at you, but the hope that rises in your chest is soon shattered when he shakes his head upon seeing your lingerie. "Red is for streetwalkers," he tells you before he goes into his study.

Daddy Can Fix It

You run your finger over the business card Amirah gave you, with all the handy man's information. The card shows his white company van with the logo emblazoned on the side: Joel Miller, Handyman At Your Service so it says in black lettering. There's a phone number and a website as well.

You dial the number, expecting to hear a secretary's voice, but you're greeted with a rich, baritone "Good mornin', thanks for callin' Daddy, what can I fix for ya today?"

Jesus, the voice alone is enough to get you flustered. And Daddy? You weren't expecting that. "Um, hi, I got your number through a friend and I'd like to see if you're available to come mow the lawn today." You peek out your curtains, seeing how the grass has grown taller than you'd like since the last time Wesley has cared enough to cut it.

"You got a lawn mower, sugar?"

"Yes, I do, um.. daddy.."

You hear him chuckle on the other end of the line. "You can call me Joel."

"Joel. Yes, I do. Is there anything else you'll need?" New to the housewife lifestyle, you're still unsure of how to make such appointments. Before you met and married Wesley, you just mowed the lawn yourself, but your husband refuses to hear of his good and proper wife performing a menial act.

"Got any bushes that need trimmin'?"

You aren't sure why that particular sentence makes you feel the blood rush to your face. "I typically keep up with it on my own, when I'm tending to my garden."

Joel gives a small chuckle and it warms your insides. "That ain't no problem. Today around eleven good for ya?"

"Eleven sounds perfect."

"Pricing'll be about fifty, but we can come to an agreement once the job is done."

"Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you." You give him your name and address, hanging up with a sense of accomplishment.

His van appears in your driveway just a minute before eleven. You're impressed with his timeliness. What you don't expect is the gorgeous stranger on your doorstep.

Joel Miller is tall, broad-shouldered, skin bronze from working out in the sun, and his dark brown hair is greying handsomely. If you had to guess his age you'd say fifties. He's in a grey tee shirt and work jeans. What stand out to you the most are his eyes: almost black in color, appraising you as you wait in the doorway, prim and proper housewife, lips parted, eyes wide.

He asks for you by name and you nod, chuckling slightly.

"If you can show me where the lawn mower is I'd be happy to get started," he offers, and the voice you recognize from the phone makes you melt.

You lead him outside to the garage and he takes out the mower, filling it up with some gasoline first. "Is there anything else you need?" you ask politely.

"No ma'am," he looks over his shoulder at you as he pushes the machine to the front yard. "Get inside and get outta this sun. I'll handle it from here," he smiles and it makes you want to giggle like a schoolgirl.

From inside you watch him through the window, deftly maneuvering the lawn mower over, trimming the grass to a neat, short length. It's not yet the hottest hour of the day, but you see him sweating, and when he stops a moment to remove his shirt, you suddenly feel your pulse in the deepest part of your cunt. You wonder what it would be like to lick up every drop of sweat off his chest.

Like a slow motion scene from a movie, you watch the motion of his arms, the rippling of his back as he guides the machine over the lawn. Biting your lip you take in the sight of him, the determination on his face redirecting your thoughts to how he would look above you: hot, sweaty, hard, plunging into your drenched pussy.

How long has it been since you've had a man? Wesley prefers his Saturday nights like clockwork. But you want more. Stupidly thinking marriage was the best way to be treated right and fucked properly, you realized it was not the title but the man, and the particular man you chose was lacking in all area which mattered.

You aren't even sure you love him anymore.

But right now, watching Joel is a treat, and fantasizing about him is a little secret you'll harbor for later in the day when you'll inevitably find yourself using the showerhead attachment.

He finishes the front and back yards, and through the blinds you peep him putting his shirt back on, running a hand through his wavy curls before putting the mower away and coming to your door.

You answer it before he knocks. "Thank you!" is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. "Please come in and we can settle payment."

He cleans the bottoms of his boots on the welcome mat before stepping inside your home and following you to the kitchen. "You have a very nice home, ma'am."

"You're too kind," you're modest about his compliment, but it's thrilling to have someone say something nice about the hard work you put into keeping house. "Would you care for some iced tea? I've just made it fresh."

"I won't say no to that," he chuckles lightly, and you're happy to fill a glass with some of the fresh-brewed tea over ice.

Joel leans back against the sink, pouty pink lips pressed to the glass as he tips it back, opening just enough to take a sweet sip. You watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows, and you wish you could lick a stripe up along his the length of his delicious-looking neck to collect all the sweat that's beaded there.

"Is there anythin' else you need help with today?" he asks, his question carrying a hint of something more.

You blank for a moment, getting lost in the depth of his obsidian eyes, still caught up in your little fantasy. "No.. no, I don't think so." Taking a look around your eyes dart to every corner, taking mental stock of the upstairs rooms as well. "No," you finalize with a smile.

"If you're sure.." he says in that same low tone.

You give him fifty dollars and chat a little while he finishes his drink.

"If there's nothin' else I'll get goin'. Feel free to call me again if you need somethin' done, or looked at. Ain't nothin' I can't fix," he winks at you on your doorstep and you feel a waterfall in your panties.

Isabelle calls later in the day. "So? You had Joel over today, right? How'd it go?"

Dinner is in the oven and there's about an hour before your husband gets home. Phone on speaker, you start peeling potatoes. "It was fine. He did a great job. I'm sure I'll use him again."

Over the line you hear Isabelle sigh. "Isn't his dick beautiful? I swear, just thinking about it gets me so wet!"

You nearly slice a finger off, shocked by her words. Even though you're alone in the house, you pick up the phone and take it off speaker. "What are you talking about?"

"I think it's at least eight inches, and the way it curves at the end," Isabelle sounds like she's moaning.

"Okay, I'm lost. I hired the handyman that you and the others referred. That's who came over today."

"Exactly, dear! Did he fuck you? You don't have to give details of course."

Your brain is put on pause as only silence fills your throat.

"Oh dear," Isabelle continues. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

She sighs, possibly settling herself on her chaise longue out by her pool she's so proud of. "Joel Miller is a handyman, yes. But we also pay him a little extra for other services."

"Oh." You sink onto the living room settee, the closest thing to you.

"Mm-hmm. Mind you, it's not an all-the-time thing. But we've all had him. It's just something fun. You get some help around the house with your honey-do list, and then a good fucking after. Or whatever pleases you."

"And you.. you've.. slept with him?"

"I wouldn't call it sleeping, honey, but yeah I've been with him. It's all for fun. Nobody really takes it seriously."

"And everyone else at the book club?"

"Pretty much. Do you really think any of our husbands could compare to that god of a man Joel Miller?"

No, no you doubt any man could hold up to the stud who'd just helped you with the lawn.

He's on your mind constantly, but as tightly as Wesley keeps his wallet to himself, you can't validate having Joel's help every day. You make the choice to wait until the following week.

And what a long wait it is. Jealously you wonder whose house he's going to. Jackie down the street? Bitchy Becky with her face like a rat, no tits and no ass?

You consider calling Isabelle to beg for the details (which she'll probably give you without a fuss anyway). But a sordid part of you wants to find out for yourself. You already know he's well-endowed. He's at least twice as big as Wesley, who wouldn't know what to do with a big cock if he was blessed with one overnight.

A week to the day since he made his last visit, Joel comes back to replace the batteries in your smoke alarms. It's a job you've done yourself, perching on a stepladder, but it'll be more fun to have Daddy fix it.

The phone call to schedule him was practically foreplay. That smooth-as-chocolate voice had your panties drenched. When he's finally here, inside your home, inside your needy little cunt.

Your eyes rove over his form as he uses your stepladder, only needing the first rung. It doesn't stop you from staying right there with him, holding it steady on the other side. You hear his little grunts as he gets to work, watch his thick, strong fingers handle the batteries with a delicacy you can imagine he uses in other things.

Licking your lips, you realize you're face-to-face with the faded blue denim crotch of his jeans, those Levis hugging him tight in all the right places.

"I'm 'bout done here," he says, putting the smoke detector back in its place. "Anythin' else you need help with, lil' darlin'?"

Your hand presses to the bulge in his jeans, and you're delighted when you feel him twitch in response. "As a matter of fact, I do need your help with something else.."

"That right?" he murmurs, pressing your hand against him, letting you feel him grow hard under his palm. "Been waitin' to see if you'd ask.."

He steps down, keeps his dark eyes on you. "Pretty lil' thing like yourself don't get enough attention, huh?" he whispers, brushing his thumb across your cheek.

Softly you sigh, unashamed at how needy you've been for a simple touch. "No.. but I'd like you to help with that."

"That's what I'm here for, darlin'," he smiles, his thumb tracing your soft plump lips. "What do you want me to do, baby?"

"Everything," you answer quickly. "I'm not.. really sure what the usual is.."

His smile is kind as his hand traces down your neck, leaving goosebumps to rise on your skin. "You want me to fuck ya, give ya somethin' nobody else is doin'.. that it?" He places your hand back on his bulge and you respond by rubbing him, your own cunt pulsing around nothing in excited expectation.

"Yes.. I need to get fucked," you agree emphatically, pulling him into your bedroom.

Now he's here, in your room, and you think you're dreaming. He's letting you take the lead, completely at your service. All the women in your book club were probably more open with their desires, knowing immediately what they wanted and how to get it. All the fantasies about Joel you've created and harbored in the deepest part of your heart are now as impalpable as gossamer.

"You tell me what you want, honey," he drawls in that molasses-rich voice of his. His hands gently trace your waist, smoothing down your dress as he moves towards your curvaceous hips. "God damn, I bet you look fuckin' gorgeous outta this dress. Wanna show me?"

Biting your lip, you nod, tugging off your apron and dropping it to the floor. Not gonna be a damn housewife while he's with me..

A tiny smirk on your face, you gently push Joel back onto your bed, and he rights himself with an equally mischievous smile as he watches you. He palms his hard cock through his jeans as you do a little striptease, tantalizing him as you slip your prim flower-print dress off your shoulders.

"There we go, baby," he growls as the dress falls down to your hips, your scarlet satin bra revealed, your breasts practically spilling over the cups, making Joel's mouth water. You turn around for his help in unzipping the bottom part of your dress, finally feeling free as it falls away, pooling at your feet.

Joel lets out a wolf whistle as he takes in the sight of you in your ruby undergarments, the same you'd tried to seduce your husband in. Now they're finally being put to good use. "Red's your color, gorgeous," he mutters, his hands on your hips, mapping out your generous curves and the soft rolls of your belly.

You've almost forgotten what it was like, this power to entrance a man and make him see you as the only woman in the world. Marriage to an uncaring and unfeeling idiot had left you cut off from your sexuality. Now you're reclaiming it.

Joel's hands travel back up to your waist, fingers deftly unclasping your bra. He unwraps you like you're the goddamn Christmas gift he's been begging for for months. His tongue wets his lips as your plump breasts are revealed. With one hand on your lower back, the other palms your tit with a rough hand. Your nipple rises to his touch and he dips down to swirl his tongue around it, gently coaxing it further with his teeth. Your head falls back as the sensation zings straight to your cunt. "Fuck, Joel.."

He smiles against the softness of your skin. "Sensitive here, huh? Bet these ain't been properly played with in awhile. Gonna change that right now." And with that he gives another hard suck, his dick already leaking when he hears your needy moan. He treats the other breast with the same attention. You take one of his hands and lead it to the drenched front side of your panties, but he stops you.

"Not yet, baby. Want you to see yourself before I fuckin' ruin ya."

You lay on your side on the bed as you watch Joel undress. It's a sight you won't soon forget: skin tan from working outdoors, with a smattering of chest hair that's also showing some grey, chiseled arms, and a happy trail that leads from his navel to the front of his boxers, which are tented. He wears a little smirk as he pulls them off and your reaction is priceless.

Joel is fucking hung.

You've taken big cocks before, but his is formed of pure fantasy, like a dildo from your favorite sex shop. Isabelle wasn't exaggerating about his size. And his cock is so beautiful you want to cry. Watching as he gives it a couple strokes, all eight thick uncut inches, the rosy pink tip glistens with precum, the veins and ridges prominent. Even the curve Isabelle mentioned is sexy, bound to hit all the right places inside you. His balls, rounded and heavy, move with his motions.

Thank God I did my yoga this week.

You beckon him to you, pulling the boxers away completely and dipping your head to taste him. Your tongue laves across the salty slit of his tip, and you relish the hitch of his breath. He's not here for you to please him, but it gets you wet wrapping your lips around his cock, suctioning your mouth and stroking upward from his base. When you start to massage his balls he stops you. "Don't wanna shoot too soon, baby," he says breathlessly.

He pulls you up off the bed and into a kiss, his hands playing along the edges of your panties as his tongue tastes yours. His cock, still wet from your mouth, nudges against your soft belly. "You deserve to feel good," he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his tongue tracing the outline. At last he pulls your panties down, a rumble in his throat when he sees the sweet glaze between your thighs, glistening in your triangle of hair.

"Sit on my lap, baby. With your back to me," he orders in a soft growl.

His flesh is warm beneath yours, and god it feels good just to be touched again, to feel desired by someone. You haven't known it in so long. He sits back against the headboard, moving the pillows on either side. His arm instinctively wraps around your waist as he leaves soft, feathery kisses across your shoulder.

"So soft," he murmurs. "C'mon, baby, look at yourself," he nods to the mirror in front of you.

When you catch your reflection you're exhilarated at the sight: you, naked, with Joel behind you, kissing your neck, fondling your tits, thumb brushing over them and lightly pinching them to hardened peaks. "Spread your legs for me, baby," he whispers, getting started by brushing his hand from your knee to your petal-soft inner thigh.

It's lascivious, watching all this unfurl before you in the mirror. You're spread open, on full display. Your pussy is gushing over with need, and you trace your folds with your fingers.

Behind you, Joel's cock twitches, and he rubs himself lightly against your back. "Lemme do that.." he whispers, gently pulling your hand away, bringing your fingers to his mouth and sucking your juice off them. "So sweet," he murmurs, and your belly is hot with lust.

His touch is soft and careful at first, exploring you and figuring out what you like, what you need. It feels like he's memorizing every inch of you. His thick fingers glide over your lips, circling, teasing you so you'll beg him for more.

"Joel," you whine, lifting yourself to him, trying to get his hand to position itself where you need it most. But he evades you, a dark chuckle emanating from deep in his throat. "You're payin' me to do a job and I wanna do it right. Not fair to rush me."

Your eyes close in frustration. "Joel, please.."

"Nuh-uh. Daddy."

"Fuck," you whimper. "Please, daddy."

"That's more like it." His touch finds your clit, throbbing and needy, and you nearly see stars at the feeling. He presses once again before sliding two fingers into your warm, welcoming cunt. "Christ, she's really suckin' me in there," he grunts, shifting behind you as his dick becomes nearly impossible to ignore.

"Yes," you moan at the sweet intrusion, the easy glide of his fingers in your drenched pussy. "Just like that."

"So fuckin' tight," he says through gritted teeth. And Jesus, his fingers are thick, the calloused thumb swiping over your clit, making you twitch and your hips arch up for more. "She's pulsin' around me," he mutters, his rich voice in your ear, lips brushing against your lobe. His fingers glide in, stretching you as you coat him.

"Ah, she's gettin' all creamy for me," he coos as he pulls them out a moment, licking off one finger and giving the other to you. You taste yourself, salty and sweet, humming in appreciation as you release his digit from your mouth with a pop.

He returns to his work, his hand pistoning against your folds, the squishy sounds of your soaked cunt beautifully obscene to your ears. Your voice trembles as you cry out, a sweet vibrato that resounds throughout the room as Joel's fingers curl in on your g-spot. He adds a bit more pressure to your clit as he tries to get you there. Moaning, he nuzzles his face into your neck.

It feels like you break open under his touch, hips arching up, swallowing his delving fingers deeper inside you as you spasm uncontrollably around him, a string of curses falling from your lips.

You barely have time to recover before he's on you again, moving in front of you as you lay against the pillows, like Venus in a Titian painting. His hands lift your thighs, softly kneading their thickness as he plants kisses on either side, trailing up to your cunt, your scent all around him.

"My husband never goes down on me," you whisper, heart racing as quick as a hummingbird's wings.

"Ain't he a waste of fuckin' space," Joel grunts, a wicked gleam in his eye as he dives in, flattening his tongue to lick a stripe upwards to your needy, throbbing clit. Your hands grab at his hair, pushing him forward as his groan is muffled by your sweet, saturated pussy.

"God.. damn!" you gasp at the delicious feeling of his tongue on you, lapping up every drop, tracing your lips and tickling your clit. He's relentless in his pursuit of making you come, switching up the tempo, adding a finger and then another, praising you when you cry out again. "Squeezin' so hard on me.. she's just about ready, ain't she?" Before he finally suctions his lips around your puffy clit and sucks, humming around it.

It's as if your soul leaves your body for a precious few moments, muttering monosyllables in sweet relief. You've never come so hard before, ever. And when you look up at Joel you wish you could worship him.

"Like the sweetest tea I ever drank," he says, licking his lips.

"Fuck me, Joel," you whine, still not fully come down from your climax.

"C'mere," he growls, putting you on all fours so you're facing the mirror again. You look at your reflection: hair mussed, eyes shining bright, skin glowing from your orgasm. Joel lines himself up behind you, smiling as you watch yourself. "Got every right to look at yourself, darlin'.. someone as fuckin' hot as you, with these hips, this ass?" He grabs one cheek and gives it a slap. You gasp, jolting forward, then wiggle your ass at him, wanting more.

"You a naughty lil' thing," Joel smirks, teasing your folds with his tip. "Wanna get this pretty lil' pussy ruined?"

"Yes, daddy," you moan, pushing back on him.

"Fuck me, I like the way you say that." He bites his lip as he continues teasing you. "Once I fuck you, you'll never let that limp dick husband of yours touch you ever again, I promise you that."

Your reply is cut off when you feel him nudge inside, your walls breached by his thick cock. "Oh god... yes!" you exclaim, clutching the bedsheets. "Fuck.. your cock is so huge.." You can feel the tip just kissing your cervix.

"Yeah, you like it? Like gettin' fucked by this big cock? Gettin' stretched out? Gonna leave a big ol' gapin' hole for your husband to come home to."

He bottoms out, grabbing your ass cheeks with both big hands, watching the smoothness of your skin as your cunt clenches onto him. "God damn what a pretty sight.. you oughta see this. Pussy's barely fittin' me as it is. Only tighter thing would be your little ass.." and he pulls out all the way to slam back in, glorying in the way you scream his name.

"There she goes, gotta get 'er used to me," he grunts, eyes on your swollen pussy lips wrapping his cock in a vise with each steady thrust. "Jesus, sweetheart. So tight I gotta try not to blow my load."

The sound of his name on your lips, the way your body reacts to him, is like gasoline on an already raging fire. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "Say my name, baby. I wanna hear it." He quickens the pace, pressing deeper inside you.

"Daddy! Daddy!" you shout in time with each delicious snap of his hips. "My god, you're so fucking deep.." you moan.

"That's it, take all of me. You like the way I fill you?"

"Yes daddy!" Your fingers clutch the sheets as the bed rocks with your movements. "So full of you.."

He presses a hand to your abdomen. "Feel me there, baby? All up in your guts. No one else is ever gonna fill you the way I do. No one's ever gonna come close. This needy lil' cunt's gonna be cryin' for me every day until I come back and give her what she needs."

His dirty talk is getting you wetter, your juices running down between your thighs, making his cock all sloppy, the sound of it making you feral for more. "Fuck me, Joel.. fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme.." you mumble, face down, ass up, slack jawed as you drool on the sheets.

He speeds up, hips slamming against yours, balls thwacking under you. "Yeah? Want me to fill ya up, blow all this fuckin' load inside ya? Got snipped years ago, baby, 's up to you."

"Fill me up, make me dirty and messy," you groan.

"You want daddy to give you everything he's got, baby?" he repeats. "You want me to fill you til you're all messy and drippin' with me?"

"Yes.. yes please," you're barely able to get out.

"Fuck," he growls, grabbing hold of your hips as he pounds into you ferociously. Once he has control he places one hand on your back, keeping you pressed down as he angles himself to hit that delicious little spot inside and he knows he's hit it when you cry out, cursing and shivering, clamping down on him like a damn vise right before he lets go, streaming jet after jet of his hot come inside you. There's so much it's already leaking out while he's still inside you.

The rest of the week you make a list of things for Joel to do next time: perhaps check out what's going on with the washing machine, or maybe he could regrout your bathroom, or help you rearrange your living room furniture right before he rearranges your guts again.

Even Wesley notices the bright and cheery mood you're in, and how attractive you've become since taking on some of the home improvements. That weekend he does you a huge favor, and sits back in his armchair as he waits for you to discover it.

"Wesley? What were you doing in the garage for so long? I heard a lot of noise," you tell him, arms crossed, a look of suspicion on your face.

He looks pleased with himself. "Well honey, you've been so agreeable these past few days that I thought I'd cross off some little projects on your to-do list."

"Like what?" you ask slowly.

He lists off everything you've had planned for Joel to do in the coming weeks. Small things, of course, but Wesley has done all of them, leaving you with nothing for daddy to fix.

"I thought you'd be happy," he says, his face cloudy now that you're unhappy again.

"Happy? Not quite." You leave a moment and return with a hammer, heading towards your husband.

He cowers, ducking as you completely pass him by and swing the hammer into the drywall of the living room wall, over and over again. When you've let your anger out and Wesley is rightfully afraid of your next move, you simply smile sweetly, holding the hammer pressed to your apron with your well-manicured hands. "Looks like I'll have to call the handyman after all!"

dividers by @thecutestgrotto 👑

tagging those who showed interest when this baby was still just a wip: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent @clawdeewritesfanfic @manuymesut @bitccchmood @everybodylovedcontractors

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theblackqueen-ofmyheart · 9 hours ago

Text

As a Canadian I gotta give anyone trying to come over here fair warning. US politics bleed into our country. Because Trump is back the people who agree with his views will be loud over here and our conservatives are not any better.

Our housing prices right now are insane. Be prepared to struggle to find a home. Despite what the conservatives say this is not Trudeau’s fault. It’s a provincial and/or municipal government issue. For a lot of provinces it’s a conservative caused issue that is finally showing itself. If you hear a conservative blaming Trudeau they are telling on themselves for not knowing how the government works or their own leader’s policies.

The conservative leader here claims a lot of things but doesn’t say how he’s going to achieve these things. Any conservative that likes him hasn’t looked into any of his talks and just thinks liberals are idiots. Be weary. While liberals still aren’t the best, and I’m not a fan of Trudeau. The conservatives will make Canada America 2.0 if they are given the opportunity. Vote NDP or liberal if you become a citizen.

I am making this post for no apparent reason, Americans

Resources for immigration to Canada:

Immigrate to Canada

Immigration and citizenship

Canada Points System

Six selection factors – Federal Skilled Worker Program (Express Entry)

Skilled Occupation List Canada 2022

Articles on moving to Canada from the USA:

Moving to Canada, explained

‘Move to Canada’ threats return – but actually emigrating there is difficult

Dreaming of Moving to Canada? Here’s What to Know If You’re American

Studying in Canada:

Step by step: How to get into a Canadian university as an international student

HOW TO APPLY TO CANADIAN UNIVERSITIES

Moving from the U.S. to Study in Canada

Study in Canada: Step-By-Step Guide for International Students

For knowing basic Canadian politics:

GUIDE TO THE CANADIAN HOUSE OF COMMONS

Canada Guide: Government

Canadian Government: Structure, Type & Facts

–

I know this isn’t viable for all Americans and in general I wouldn’t recommend it (given how difficult it can be) but I know a lot of vulnerable people are desperate and feeling very unsafe in the USA right now. I’m not judging anyone, which is why I am providing this information with no bias what so ever.

Americans should also know that Canada has every single systemic social issue that the USA does, so moving here is not going to necessarily get rid of these issues. They may be less severe in some ways, more severe in others but there are serious issues here, so if you are considering this please don’t uphold Canada as some kind of utopia.

I am also available anytime to answer any questions.

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mononijikayu · 2 days ago

Text

say so — nanami kento.

As you looked at him, you knew that he knew that. But he was only human. It wasn’t easy to not be swayed by human doubts and impulse. You never faulted him for that. If anything, it made you fall in love with him over and over again. Because your Kento was both sides of the coin of human life. And you embrace it, more than you could ever imagine. Love is just that way. You knew that to be true. You stepped closer, your hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders, grounding him. “Kento, I want you. Only you.” you said, your voice filled with the sincerity you hoped he could feel. “I want you more than anything. Because you’re my life. My oxygen. My everything.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Post-Shibuya Arc, R-18, Smut, Fingering, P to V Sex, Passionate Sex, Pet Names (My Love, Baby), Romance, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Nanami, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Drama, Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Jealousy, Teasing, Fix-It, Humor, Domesticity, Family Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Pining, Nanami Being A Great Husband, Nanami Kento is FATHER™️;

WORDS: 9.5k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: nanami won my poll again!!! hurray!!! here's tmi about this - thiis was half way finished when i came back to write it, but then i got sick again and i started writing this more differently than my direction. i got frustrated so i stopped for a while then i forgot about it and then i wanted to finish it.

oh, also kento and you speak danish at home, because you both feel like a secret language between you and him. gojo is also retired — thats going to be in us and them!!! thank you so much for waiting!!! thank you for reading too!!! i love you all !!! see you in the gojo fic (second place) <3

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i love you so | say so

next: little wonders

HE THOUGHT THAT HE WOULD ALWAYS BE NONCHALANT. Nanami Kento never thought he’d be the type to get jealous. After all, he prided himself on being calm and composed, grounded in logic.

But lately, things have changed. You had changed—or rather, something about you had. At least that’s what he noticed now that you’ve come back to Tokyo, so he could become a mentor to the kids with Gojo’s retirement.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Nanami Kento had finally left the endless grind of Jujutsu society, traded the blood and curses for a quiet life in Malaysia, far from the threat of battle.

But when he got that call, it felt like the past had come clawing back, unwilling to let him go. Itadori Yuji’s name on Gojo’s lips stirred something within him—something old, duty-bound, and unwilling to see an innocent youth, especially one with Yuji’s heart, left adrift.

Gojo Satoru's concern was about more than just Yuji, though. Nanami listened as the retired special grade sorcerer, sitting on a cruise across the globe, rattled off frustrations with the new leadership at Jujutsu High and Jujutsu society as a whole. All of it having formed with what he had known from his contacts back at hom.

At the center of it was Usami. That man, the strongest of all first class sorcerers, Usami, who never defied the higher-ups, who prioritized orders and tradition over compassion, whose unfeeling approach Gojo had seen all too often among those aligned with the elders.

Nanami Kento knew the type. They were the very people he’d worked so hard to avoid throughout his career, the type who saw Jujutsu sorcerers as tools more than as people, especially the students.

Now, with Gojo’s absence, Usami had stepped into a more central role at Jujutsu High, and Gojo wasn’t comfortable with it. Why would he? He’s still supporting the remaining conservative factions in Jujutsu High.

There was no other way to feel about it other than this, but concern. The return of a conservative faction, under Gakuganji, would stifle Gojo’s gambles these past few years. Gambles Kento had agreed with, even if not wholeheartedly.

“I don’t want him making decisions for my students, you know? I’m sure you agree about that with me too.” Gojo said bluntly, his tone carrying the usual lazy confidence but undercut by a genuine concern. “They’ve been through enough. They deserve someone who understands them.”

Kento could hear Gojo's frustration; it was an unusual tone in the voice of someone who otherwise seemed to brush off his troubles. And in that sentiment, Nanami found himself nodding in agreement. It didn’t sit well with him, either. But what could he do? He is retired now, isn't he? There was no need for this chatter.

Gojo, as though reading his hesitation, chuckled knowingly over the line. “Look, I’m technically retired too, Nanami. I know your feelings about this.” he said with that familiar cheek in his voice. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t meddle. Keeps me busy as I get old, you know? Gojo clan head is empty without any drama.”

There was a pause, and Kento didn’t know what to say. Gojo Satoru, even in their younger years, used his status to continue to advocate for his interests. And Kento didn’t like it as much, he was someone who liked rules, after all.

Even if he agreed with them, he thinks about the context of propriety. But he knows the soul of Gojo’s argument. He agrees with that. Gojo’s voice softened on the other line.

“Don’t you ever want to keep busy too? I mean, especially when your wife’s at her job? You’re both still in the thick of it, in your own ways. Being a house husband doesn’t always satisfy the itch. Before you rebuttal, you know I’m not lying. ”

Nanami sighed. Gojo’s words struck a nerve. He’s not wrong. Genmei–san also works still, helping out at temples when she has the time. Most of the time, if they weren’t on holiday, it would be Gojo waiting at home and taking care of their children. For a moment, Nanami sat down to think about it properly.

You were deeply invested in your work as a novelist. You adore it, you truly do. But often, it’s hard for you to deal with. You were just as much an independent person in your own right and that was your own mission, your own purpose.

He admired you for that, but there were times when he found himself wondering about his place. He adores taking care of you, he adores being by your side all the time. He adores being your house–husband.

But he often questions, besides that, away from the frontline, away from Jujutsu, what was his purpose now? Was he truly content to let the world of sorcery continue without him, even if it meant leaving those like Yuji to struggle without guidance? Or the kids? What can he do for them? What can he do now?

“Fine, Gojo.” Nanami finally muttered. “I’ll look into it. Just… don’t get used to this.” He could practically hear Gojo’s grin over the line, a smug sort of satisfaction that Nanami knew all too well.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Gojo replied smoothly in response. “But I’ll admit, it’s good to have you back, even if just for a little while.”

And so, he tried to muster the courage to tell you about what he had agreed to. Dinner was a warm, familiar ritual together. And by the beachside in Kuantan, everything about it was a wonder to behold.

The sounds of clinking plates and gentle conversation filled the room, and the two of you settled into the ease of being home together, savoring the evening without the rush of tomorrow hanging over you.

You were halfway through telling him about something small that had happened during your day at the market when he cleared his throat, a subtle shift in his usual, deliberate movements. His fingers, wrapped around his glass, seemed to tighten slightly. You looked at him a little bit confused.

“There’s something I need to tell you, my love.” he began, meeting your gaze with a calm determination. "I’ve decided… to return to Tokyo." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before he continued. "Jujutsu High needs someone to look after the first years. With Gojo retired, things are… in flux."

You blinked, feeling a jolt of surprise, but before you could fully react, he was already explaining, his tone quickening just a touch, as if he’d anticipated your questions. It was rare for your husband to be this way, to ramble about and have his bright brown eyes shake as he looked at you with a shaken uncertainty. But you know when he becomes this way, it’s because of things he cares about.

“It’s not active service, don’t worry about that, my love.” he assured, almost hurriedly, his hand drifting toward yours in an unspoken promise. “I’m not heading back into the field. It’s only to mentor the kids, give them someone they can rely on. They deserve that, especially now.”

You saw his resolve deepen as he spoke of them, the younger students who’d become like family over the years. His voice softened, and you could tell this wasn’t just about filling Gojo’s shoes.

"I can’t abandon Yuji, he’s already without someone. I can’t really do much more damage by leaving him without someone." he said with quiet conviction, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you understood.

“Kento—”

"I know how much he’s been through, and… I don’t want him facing it alone. Nobara, too—she’s so headstrong. She’ll need someone she can turn to, someone to help her channel all that fire. And Gojo’s bound to ask for updates on Fushiguro all the time. You know how he is with him. With them. I just….I just don’t want them to feel so alone about this at all. Usami is gaining some foothold and the conservatives are just….its complicated.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you listened, watching the familiar strength in his face, the quiet protector in him springing back to life. Passion was beautiful in your husband. Seeing even more alive with such caring passion makes you happy.

His gaze held yours, steady and honest, a reassurance that his heart was set on this, that he wasn’t leaving you behind but rather doing what he felt was right, the only thing that made sense.

You let the warmth you felt for him reflect in your smile, reaching for his hand as it rested between you. “Of course, Kento.” you replied softly, squeezing his fingers with encouragement. “They couldn’t have anyone better.”

A soft exhale escaped him, the tension leaving his shoulders as he squeezed your hand back. Relief and gratitude flickered across his face, the subtle shift of a man who didn’t often ask for things but knew he’d been understood completely. There was no need for grand gestures or lengthy explanations between the two of you; your silent agreement spoke volumes.

The conversation turned to lighter things, back to the warmth of dinner. But every so often, you caught his expression softening, a look of contentment and resolve, knowing he was about to embark on something meaningful, not just for him, but for those who needed him.

But of course, that also came with cons.

The move to Tokyo was a calm one.

But it was also a disastrous one, in his mind.

You were both too busy to spend time together.

The shift was subtle at first. Kento began to spend more and more hours at Jujutsu High, guiding the first years, sharing his experience, and quietly observing their progress. He’d come home later than usual, sometimes with papers under his arm and a faint weariness in his expression that he tried to mask with a smile.

Meanwhile, you were pouring yourself into your new book, the words and ideas flowing freely under the careful guidance of your new editor. It was an exciting time, both for your work and for him. There was a renaissance in your paths to life blossoming in your efforts. But there was a toll, a quiet distance neither of you fully acknowledged.

One evening, you noticed the weight in his gaze as he joined you at the table. He seemed quieter, his usual calm presence tinged with something else; something like sadness. You set down your work, reaching across to hold his hand, catching the faint glimmer of surprise in his eyes.

“Things have been so busy lately, my love.” he murmured, his voice soft, almost reluctant to admit it aloud. “I miss being able to spend more time with you.”

Your heart softened at his honesty, and you squeezed his hand gently. “I miss it too, Kento.” you replied, meeting his gaze with reassurance. “But you know how this is… the busy season. Soon, I’ll be back to post-writing mode, and we’ll have more time to do things together. This won’t last forever.”

He nodded, his lips curling into a small, understanding smile. “You’re right. It’s just… different.” There was a flicker of relief in his eyes, but it was short-lived.

As the weeks went on, your new editor’s involvement became more intense, often stretching into late-night calls or spontaneous meetings that kept you occupied well beyond the hours you’d once spent with Kento.

He’d catch you on the phone, your voice animated in a way that was hard to miss, even as he stood in the doorway waiting for a chance to say goodnight. It was hard to deal with, day by day.

But he said nothing, keeping his feelings carefully hidden behind the same mask of calm he’d worn so well for years. But you could sense it, the slight slump of his shoulders, the way his gaze lingered on you just a little longer.

It was as if he was hoping you’d glance up, catch his eye, and read the unspoken questions there. In the quiet moments, he’d watch you, a silent longing in his gaze, feeling the bittersweet ache of being close but somehow… not close enough.

It was an unspoken tension, a soft thread pulled too tight between the two of you. And though he never voiced it, you began to sense how much he missed you—not just physically, but in all the little moments you once shared, now slipping through his fingers.

After all, you guys were all you truly had in all these times. He would always crave everything about you. About loving you, about being close to you. Just you. He missed you.

Nanam Kento was sure that he hadi tried to be patient. He reminded himself, over and over, that this was temporary, just a busy period that would eventually pass. He knew how much this book meant to you and understood how important it was to have an editor who could match your energy and vision.

But despite all his quiet resolve, he couldn’t ignore the pang of envy that crept in every time he saw you light up, laughing or discussing something animatedly over the phone.

The way you and your editor connected; it was undeniable. The easy flow between you two, the synergy that seemed to bridge ideas without any need for words, stirred something unsettled in him.

He would come home from a long day at Jujutsu high, weary but hopeful to catch up with you. Instead, he’d often find you mid-call, your voice carrying hints of excitement he hadn’t heard in a while. You’d wave him a quick greeting, mouthing that you’d be off soon, but “soon” stretched, and his footsteps grew slower on his way to your side.

It wasn’t that he doubted you or the love between you two. He trusted you deeply. But the way you seemed to come alive with this editor… it stung in a way he hadn’t anticipated. He knew you and this person worked well together, that they understood your work and helped bring out your best ideas.

He understood it logically, but logic did little to quell the feeling of being left on the sidelines. After all, it was a feeling he recognized too well—the familiar ache of watching from a distance, of caring deeply and yet holding his tongue.

Some nights, he’d sit across from you at dinner, glancing up occasionally, only to see you distracted, your mind clearly still on your work. Or you’d mention a new idea your editor had suggested, a change you hadn’t considered but were now eager to explore.

And though he nodded, offering his encouragement, he couldn’t shake the thought: When was the last time I could make her smile like that?

As the weeks went by, he felt it more keenly, this quiet envy of the time you spent together. It wasn’t that he begrudged you for the partnership, but he couldn’t help wishing that he could have more of that side of you for himself; the side that was vibrant and full of life, that spark of curiosity and joy he’d always adored.

Nanami Kento wasn’t one to give voice to his insecurities easily, and he knew how silly he might sound, envious over something so innocent. He was a secured man, in all the ways he knew he was. He knew that too well. Yet as much as he told himself it was foolish, the feeling lingered.

So he held back, watching you in those moments with a quiet ache, determined to keep his envy hidden. He’d stay later at the school, throw himself into lesson planning, sometimes even offer to cover additional duties, as though it might distract him. But each time he came home, seeing you lost in conversation or laughter, he couldn’t shake the feeling that, for now, a part of you belonged to someone else.

He told himself it was just work. You had deadlines; he understood that. But there was something else. Whenever your phone pinged with a message, you’d check it quickly, smile to yourself, then type out a reply, sometimes with a small laugh or a shake of your head. And every time, he’d feel a sharp pang of something foreign to him: jealousy.

Kento tried to reason with himself. You were his wife, and he trusted you implicitly. You had built a life together, one based on love, understanding, and mutual respect. But that didn’t stop the gnawing feeling in his chest whenever he saw you so absorbed in those messages or whenever he saw that spark of excitement in your eyes when you talked about the feedback your editor gave you.

He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t shake the thought. When he saw you typing away late into the evening, smiling at the screen, a quiet worry settled in the back of his mind. What was this editor like? Why did their input seem to matter so much to you? And why did Kento, who usually approached everything in life with composure, find himself so deeply unsettled?

Tonight, though, he’d had enough. He stood in the doorway to your office, watching you as you leaned over your laptop, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, fully immersed in your work.

You looked beautiful, more beautiful than ever, but that same nagging feeling of jealousy coiled tighter in his chest. And before he could stop himself, something in him just snapped.

“So, my love.” he said, his voice calm yet edged with tension. “Another late night, huh?”

“Yeah, it would seem so!” You retort, noticing him. “You’ve just come home?”

“Just a while ago.” He says to you, watching you turn your head back to your computer. You were typing even faster. He was sure you were trying to finish it, now that he was home.

You looked up once again, a soft smile lighting up your face. “I didn’t even hear you come in. You came in as sly as a little cat!” You stretched, setting aside your laptop and glancing at him warmly. “I was just going over some notes. The editor had a few thoughts on the latest chapter.”

”Did he have any suggestions for this part?" he asked, casually trying to keep his tone even as he nodded toward your screen.

You looked up, clearly surprised. "Who, my editor?"

"Yeah, my love." he said, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he leaned against the doorframe. "It just seems like he's been really… involved in your work lately."

You tilted your head, noticing the unusual tension in his voice, the way his words held a heaviness that wasn’t like him. “Well, that’s what they’re paid to do, you know?” you replied gently, hoping to keep things light, maybe coax a smile out of him.

But his expression didn’t shift. You could tell almost immediately. Instead, his eyes held a quiet, guarded intensity that stopped you in your tracks. Realizing this was more than a casual remark, you closed your laptop, giving him your full attention.

“Kento… Is something wrong?” you asked, voice soft, searching his face for a sign of what was going on inside him.

He crossed his arms, hesitating. For a moment, he almost looked as if he wanted to brush it off, to go back to his usual collected demeanor, but he stopped. Instead, he looked at you with an intensity that caught you off guard.

“I know it’s irrational, and I know it’s probably nothing.” he said finally, his voice quiet, almost reluctant. “But… I don’t like seeing you so wrapped up in this person’s feedback. You’ve been smiling at your phone more than you do at me lately, and I’m… not exactly used to feeling like this.”

The vulnerability in his words, the admission from someone usually so calm and composed, made your heart soften instantly. You reached out, covering his hand with yours, feeling the tension there, the way his fingers reflexively squeezed back.

“Kento, baby.” you said, voice warm. “You don’t have to feel that way. No editor or anyone else could ever mean as much to me as you do. None of them are you. There’s only one of you, you know?”

He relaxed just a little, his shoulders easing as he let your words sink in. But he didn’t let go of that guarded look, the one that still held a hint of uncertainty. “Then why does it feel like I’m… competing for your attention?” he asked, his gaze never leaving yours. It was a simple question, but the way he asked it, with a vulnerability that you knew he rarely revealed, struck you deeply.

You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “I guess I didn’t realize how it looked.” you admitted, your thumb brushing lightly along his hand. “It’s just… I got excited about the project, and the new feedback’s been inspiring. But…I’m so sorry for not noticing or making you feel that way, baby.”

You reached out, tracing a gentle hand down his arm, feeling the tension start to melt away as you looked into his eyes. “None of that compares to what I have with you. I hope you know that. You’re the one I come home to, Kento. You’re the one who matters most. I love you. Only you.”

He seemed to exhale, his expression softening. You could see the quiet relief in his eyes, the way the tension finally started to lift, and it made you want to close whatever lingering distance was left between you. And then, his voice, low and almost hesitant, broke the silence.

“Tell me, my love.” he whispered, barely above a murmur. “Tell me that you want me. Just… say it.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice, that rare openness he was offering, made your heart ache in the best way. You don’t think you had ever felt like this before Kento. But every day since then, your heart has created more motions you could never understand. And you know, you just knew – it was because you loved him more than anything in life.

Because your Kento was both sides of the coin of human life. And you embrace it, more than you could ever imagine. Love is just that way. You knew that to be true. You stepped closer, your hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders, grounding him.

“Kento, I want you. Only you.” you said, your voice filled with the sincerity you hoped he could feel. “I want you more than anything. Because you’re my life. My oxygen. My everything.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and before either of you could say another word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm, firm embrace. The warmth you had come to hold onto in this life.

You sank into his hold, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your ear. There was a familiar comfort there, a quiet strength in his embrace, that had always felt like home.

For a few moments, you both stayed that way, close and quiet, as if the world outside had faded and left only the two of you. He lifted his head slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead/

Kento murmured into your hair, his voice gentle. “Promise me you’ll take a break from work. I’ll do it too. We’ll spend time together. Just us. No one else.”

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, a soft smile spreading across your lips. “Of course, my baby. I can postpone everything else. If it’s you, everything else can wait. My husband being happy is more important to me!” you whispered.

A quiet sense of relief washed over him, and he held you a little tighter, his own smile finally breaking through, his usual calm confidence restored. For Kento, there was no greater feeling than knowing you were his and that you were here, sharing this quiet, peaceful moment with him.

As he held you close, he felt a deep contentment, one he rarely allowed himself to savor. The jealousy that had once gripped him faded entirely, replaced by a quiet certainty. Of course there should be. Why wouldn't there be?

The certainty that your love, your life together, was the one thing in the world he could rely on. That he was sure. You love him, after all. And as he closed his eyes, resting his chin atop your head, he silently thanked the universe for you, for this love that was more real, more enduring, than any fleeting worry or passing jealousy.

This, he thought to himself, was where he belonged.

Right here, in this moment, in your arms.

Nowhere else can compare to this.

YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AND HAVE A PICNIC. The night before you had agreed that it would be nice to enjoy the Tokyo sun, and have a picnic at the park. You talked about a cat cafe nearby too. He talked about how the yakisoba dish was introduced at his favorite restaurant. There were new spots popping out in Tokyo for you both to check out.

That’s what you agreed on. Today was supposed to be simple, a peaceful day just to unwind and enjoy each other’s company. But the moment you woke up and felt his gaze linger a bit longer.

Slowly, smoothly, you could feel his hand finding the curve of your waist, you knew that quiet was about to turn into something much more intense. You knew your husband too well. When he’s hungry — he remains hungry.

He pulled you close, his grip both gentle and possessive as his eyes darkened. “Mine, only mine.” he murmured, the word almost a growl, his fingers tracing your skin like he wanted to memorize every part of you.

The world around you melted away as he took his time, every kiss and touch filled with a need that made your heart race. You let him, giving himself over as he murmured softly against your skin, “My pretty wife… just for me.”

You could feel him stretching you out so perfectly with his fingers, causing you to moan loudly. Your husband was good, too good at everything he does. But when it comes to you, he was beyond excellent. Your eyes felt hazy as he looked at you with that predatory stare. You held him even closer, your moan getting louder.

Your head turns awry with the high as you continue to ride his fingers as he kisses your neck, you're stuck against the wall occupied by him. No one, not even your previous lovers, those green boy boyfriends were able to make you feel this good.

No one could make you feel this way. Only him. Only your husband, your Kento. And every single time, he knew it. Even with his jealousy, he knew it. You were always going to fold when it’s him. Only him.

“K–Kento.” you moan out, your voice breathless as you rock against his fingers, the sensation overwhelming in the best way. Each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you can't help but lose yourself in the rhythm he creates. “You’re… you’re… oh—”

His eyes darken with desire, and a sly smile creeps onto his lips. “That’s it, my love.” he replies, his voice low and filled with warmth.

He peppered soft kisses along your neck, each one igniting a fire inside you that burned brighter with every passing second. His fingers pushed deeper, faster, and you felt so incredibly full, the exquisite stretch making your head spin.

“Come. Come for me.” he urged, his words wrapping around you like a spell, both a command and an invitation. The way he held you against the wall, the heat radiating from his body, only heightened the electric connection between you.

Every kiss he placed on your skin felt like a promise, an affirmation of the bond you shared. No one else had ever made you feel this way; so cherished and desired. With him, you were always ready to surrender completely, to give in to the overwhelming pleasure that built within you. Nothing else can compare with what you feel for your husband. Nothing.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter, your body responding instinctively to his every touch. He was so good at remembering where to touch you next. After being together for this long, Kento knew your body even better than you. He knows how to make you cry, how to make you moan. He knows everything.

“Kento.” you gasped, the sound a mix of pleasure and longing, and as his fingers curled just right, that coil finally snapped. Your body shuddered, a wave of bliss crashing over you, leaving you breathless as you surrendered to the moment, lost in the magic of him.

You looked up at him, and his gaze was intense, filled with a mix of satisfaction and hunger that sent a rush of warmth through you. Without a word, he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you with a fervor that reignited the fire within.

His movements were slow at first, but as he pushed his fingers one by one, even deeper, your moans escaped you uncontrollably, pulling him closer as you urged him on, wanting nothing more than to feel every bit of him.

Somehow, you had been able to accommodate every tight, muscular finger in his hand. And you knew it felt good. He knew it felt good. Because he knew just what to do. No one else would. Only Kento would.

He responded with a low, pleased growl, the sound reverberating through his chest as his free hand tightened around your hip, holding you possessively against him.

There was an undeniable power in the way he claimed you, every inch of his touch a reminder of the connection you shared. You felt cherished and owned, completely his in this intimate moment.

Each thrust of his fingers sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you, each stroke deliberate and filled with purpose. Your body responded eagerly, arching into him as you surrendered fully to the sensations, every moan escaping your lips urging him on.

The world outside ceased to exist; there was only you, him, and the electric energy that wrapped around you both, binding you together in a rhythm that felt both primal and tender.

As the intensity of the moment deepened, you could feel the heat radiating from him, a tangible connection that anchored you both in a world of your own. His lips traveled down to your neck, trailing kisses that ignited your skin, leaving behind a trail of fire. You could feel the way he held you, his grip firm yet gentle, and it made you crave more, the need building inside you like a rising tide.

“Just like that, my love.” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and teasing. The sound of his voice sent a thrill through you, adding to the layers of pleasure that enveloped you.

He continued to move his fingers with a deliberate slowness, coaxing every last ounce of ecstasy from your body. Each time he pushed deeper, you gasped, the sensations pulling you closer to the edge once again.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you could merge your bodies into one. Drool started to form from your lips as he thrusted even deeper, pleasure repetitive in your lips to his ears. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed making a mess of you way too much.

“K–kento. Oh my….g—oddddd…..” you breathed, the urgency in your voice echoing your desire. You needed him, all of him, and you wanted to feel that connection intensify. He looked into your eyes, and in that moment, you saw the depth of his love mirrored in his gaze, a promise that went beyond the physical.

He quickened his pace slightly, and you felt every pulse of his fingers inside you, each thrust igniting a new wave of pleasure. You could sense the hunger in him, a deep-seated need to feel you unravel beneath him.

“You’re perfect, aren't you?” he said, the words reverberating through you as you lost yourself in the moment. His possessiveness only heightened your arousal, each stroke of his fingers an affirmation that you belonged to him, and he to you.

With every thrust, every kiss, you felt the world around you blur, leaving only the two of you entwined in a dance of passion. Your bodies moved together as if they were made to fit, every touch syncing perfectly. You surrendered completely, letting the waves of pleasure wash over you, pulling you under and lifting you higher.

“Come for me again, my love.” he urged, his voice a low growl filled with desire. You could feel the pressure building once more, and with a desperate need, you clung to him, riding the waves of sensation that coursed through you.

The world outside faded entirely as you focused on the way he made you feel—alive, cherished, and utterly consumed by the moment. And as you finally tipped over the edge into bliss, you knew that this was where you belonged, wrapped in his arms, lost in your shared passion.

As the world outside faded into a distant hum, you and Kento found yourselves enveloped in an intimate cocoon, where it was just the two of you. His gaze held yours, deep and searching, as if he were reading the unspoken words that danced between you. The air was thick with anticipation, and your heart raced in sync with the pulse of the moment.

With a gentle touch, he caressed your cheek, his fingers trailing down to your neck, igniting sparks of warmth beneath his fingertips. The softness of his touch contrasted with the burning desire that simmered between you, creating a perfect tension that left you breathless. You leaned into him, craving the connection that felt both familiar and exhilarating.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and filled with warmth, laced with a hint of playful teasing that made your stomach flutter. You nodded, feeling a rush of trust and excitement wash over you. You knew he would take care of you, just as he always did.

As he shifted closer, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and safety. When he entered you, it was as if time stood still. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intimacy that made you gasp softly. You could feel every inch of him, filling you completely, as he took his time, letting you adjust to the fullness.

Kento's eyes never left yours, and in that moment, you felt utterly cherished. Each movement was deliberate, as if he were savoring the connection between your bodies and the bond you shared. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both surrendered to the rhythm of your bodies.

“You’re so beautiful, my love.” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, and you could feel the sincerity in his words.

Those simple words sent a wave of warmth through you, making you feel both desired and loved. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him even closer, as if you could merge your souls together.

He held you firmly, as though afraid to let go, fingers pressing into your skin with a hunger that left no doubt of his intentions. His hands slid from your waist to your thighs, gripping you with an intensity that was both grounding and electric, each touch sparking a heat that made you shiver.

The way he held you was raw and consuming, as though he wanted to memorize the feeling of you beneath his hands, every curve, every softness. He knew everything like the back of his hand/

You could feel his breath, warm and steady, against your skin, each kiss he placed making you arch closer, melting into the strength of his hold. The roughness of his grip, his possessive energy, pulled you deeper.

It was like he was marking you as his, his touch heavy with a passion that left you breathless. He looked into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense, a silent promise of everything he wanted to give, everything he wanted to take.

The world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, his warmth surrounding you, his presence overwhelming in the best possible way. Every inch of you felt alive under his touch, every nerve alight with a need that only he could satisfy.

His hands continued to explore, leaving trails of warmth, his touch demanding yet tender, as if reassuring you that he was there, and you were his.

The heat between you intensified, his hands roaming slowly, leaving a trail of tingling warmth wherever they went. You trembled, feeling the power behind every touch, every possessive whisper.

You could feel him drinking in the sight of you, holding you close as if he didn’t want to let go. It wasn’t rushed; it was filled with a focused, possessive affection that only made you crave him more.

Time blurred as his movements became a mix of gentleness and intensity. His hands slid lower, holding you firmly, possessively, as he whispered your name.

His words washed over you, filled with longing and satisfaction as he whispered, “You’re mine. Only mine.” Each soft murmur made your breath catch, his voice rough with devotion.

Your husband had always had a way of grounding you, pulling you back to him in the moments you needed it most. He held you with a quiet strength, his touches both comforting and electric, each caress more deliberate than the last.

When the busy schedules and late nights began to take their toll, you’d find yourself in his arms, feeling the tension melt away as he made you his world.

He was possessive in the gentlest way, his lips tracing along your skin, his voice murmuring low, tender words that anchored you to the present.

"Mine, mine." he'd say, over and over, his voice a husky whisper as he pressed deeper, slow and unhurried, savoring each moment. "My beautiful wife, my one and only."

You let yourself unravel under his touch, feeling each surge of pleasure as he pulled you closer, his mouth finding yours in heated kisses, his hands firm as they held you against him. The world outside faded, and there was only him—each movement, each shudder of pleasure woven with his love and need for you.

And as your body trembled, giving in to the pleasure he offered, he’d whisper words that sent warmth spiraling through you: His only. His good girl. His good little wife.

With every pulse and every breath, he made you his, claiming you in the way only he could, and you felt yourself give in, letting him take what he needed, knowing that he was yours just as deeply.

In these moments, he was entirely yours, just as you were his, both of you wrapped up in a world where only the two of you existed. And as he held you close, that familiar need he had for you was clear in his eyes, you could feel the depth of his love; the way he wanted you, needed you—all pouring out with each possessive word and touch.

Every thrust was slow and measured, each movement deliberate and filled with purpose, as if Kento were painting a masterpiece with your bodies.

He took his time, carefully crafting a rhythm that drew you both closer to the edge of ecstasy, like the steady buildup of a powerful wave ready to crash upon the shore. Each moment felt like an eternity, stretched and molded by his touch, igniting every nerve ending with heat and longing.

Kento relished in the way you responded to him, the way your body quivered beneath him, your breaths coming in soft gasps that filled the space between you.

He liked making you wait, savoring the way your eyes widened in need and your body writhed, pleading for more. The way you mewled over and over again, lost in the depths of desire, was music to his ears, a siren call that drove him further into the depths of his own hunger for you.

“Please, Kento. More. More—” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation, the need pooling in the pit of your stomach. Each word was a plea, a yearning that echoed in the silence of the room, punctuated only by the soft sounds of skin meeting skin.

“P–please….pleaseeeee…..”

A teasing smile played on his lips as he leaned down, his breath warm against your neck. He bit gently into your flesh, a sweet sting that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through you, causing you to moan, tears streaming down your face from the overwhelming sensations flooding your body.

“Enjoy it, my love. Enjoy the slow burn.” he murmured, his voice low and husky, wrapping around you like a silken ribbon. “Let’s have fun, hm?”

His words were a command and a caress, urging you to embrace the intensity of the moment. The way he spoke your name, the way he held you, felt like a tether pulling you deeper into the shared experience. You were both caught in a delicate dance, a balance of power and surrender, where every pause and every gentle caress built anticipation.

The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you intertwined, lost in the growing tension between your bodies. Kento was in control, but you loved it. You loved the way he took his time, how each thrust felt like an exploration, a journey into the very essence of what it meant to be together.

He would withdraw slightly, teasing you with the promise of more, before plunging back into you with a slow, deliberate push that sent sparks of pleasure radiating from the core of your being.

Each pulse of his body against yours was a reminder of his possession, of the bond you shared that was both beautiful and intoxicating. The slow burn he created enveloped you, igniting your senses and drawing you closer to the precipice of your desires. You could feel the heat building within you, an insistent wave that throbbed and twisted, desperate for release.

“Just like that, my love.” he encouraged, his voice a soothing balm against the tumultuous storm of emotions swirling inside you. “Let it build. Let it consume you.”

You let his words command you, letting them wash over you as you melted into the sensations. Every tear that fell was a blessing of pleasure and the pain mingling together, a sweet agony that you welcomed wholeheartedly.

You could feel your heart racing, your breaths quickening, as you approached that sweet, familiar edge, caught between the bliss of the moment and the urgency of your need.

With every deep stroke, you felt a delicious tension building within you, a tightness that was both exhilarating and overwhelming. Each time he filled you completely, it ignited a spark of pleasure that resonated deep in your core, drawing soft gasps from your lips. Your husband was a great lover. Perhaps the best there ever was.

You surrendered to him fully, giving yourself over to the sensations that enveloped you. The outside world faded away, leaving nothing but the two of you entwined in this intimate dance. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his breath mingled with yours, made every moment feel precious.

You can only focus on him. Only him. He was what mattered. The way his eyes held yours, filled with an intensity that spoke volumes of his love and desire.

You could write as many beautiful works as you could ever want. But perhaps the most beautiful creation in your life was him. Loving Nanami Kento was your most beautiful creation.

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the way he made you feel. It was a combination of love and raw passion, an electric current that flowed between you, binding you together in a way that felt profoundly intimate.

Every caress of his hands, every whispered word, heightened your awareness of him, igniting your senses and making you acutely aware of the depth of your connection.

You could feel his warmth enveloping you, a comforting presence that made you feel safe yet desired. The way he moved, the way he took his time to explore every inch of you, filled you with an overwhelming sense of affection and longing.

With each thrust, you could feel your bodies communicating in a language all your own, a silent exchange that deepened the bond between you.

As you both lost yourselves in each other, the outside world faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you entwined in a universe of your own making.

The air around you thickened with anticipation, and every touch felt electric, as if the very essence of your connection pulsed between you. As if you truly belonged together.

You could sense the tension coiling tighter, each movement a languid dance that drew you deeper into an exquisite rhythm, a beautiful synergy that melded your souls together and ignited a fire within you that felt utterly intoxicating.

“Kento, I’m coming. I’m so close.” you gasped, the words spilling from your lips as desire swirled through your veins.

He trailed kisses along your jaw, his lips soft yet insistent, igniting a cascade of shivers that traveled down your spine. “Come for me, baby. Let go.” he urged, his voice low and rich with promise, wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

That was when he shifted, his movements quickening, a sudden urgency that sent your heart racing. The delicious friction intensified, and with each thrust, the world outside vanished completely, leaving only the two of you in a haze of passion.

Every kiss, every whisper, every pulse of his body against yours propelled you closer to that blissful edge, where pleasure and surrender intertwined, drawing you both into a beautiful climax that promised to sweep you away entirely.

As Kento quickened his pace, the urgency of his movements sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, building to a peak that felt both thrilling and inevitable.

The air around you crackled with electricity, every sensation heightened as he pressed deeper, claiming you in a way that made your heart race and your body ache for more. His breaths came in ragged gasps, mingling with the sound of skin against skin, each thrust driving you further into a euphoric haze.

“My love, I’m so close.” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I’m….I’m gonna come.”

You could see the raw need in his gaze, the way he was completely lost in the moment, just as you were. It was intoxicating to know that you had this effect on him, that you could pull him into this blissful space where nothing else mattered but the two of you.

“I want you, baby.” you whispered, your voice trembling with urgency as you felt that familiar coil tightening within you. “I need you.”

“D’ you want me inside, hm? Where do you want me?”

You moan, thinking about how hot it was. How hotter it would be to have him inside of you. “I-inside me. Please. Please. Make me full.”

“Y’d like that? You want me to make you full of me, my love?”

“Yes, yes, o–oh, yes—”

With a low growl, Kento shifted his focus, pushing into you with a deep, purposeful thrust that sent stars dancing behind your eyelids. The world outside was a distant memory, all that existed was the heat building between you, a fire that consumed you both whole.

His movements were rhythmic yet fervent, each push coaxing you closer to the edge, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you. It felt so good. It felt way too good and you wanted it to last forever.

“Let go, my love.” he urged, his voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers coursing through your body. “I’m right there with you.”

And then, with a final, deep thrust, you felt him come inside you, warmth flooding you as he released with a low groan, his body pulsing against yours. The sensation was overwhelming—a rush of heat that spread through you, mingling with your own climax as pleasure washed over you in waves, leaving you breathless and trembling benea

th him.

You held on closer to him, taking in a new dawn’s breath.

You were so in love with this man, more than you know.

And he was the same — he couldn’t get enough of loving you.

“You know, if I had known jealousy would make you like this…” you finally say, your voice still laced with breathlessness as you regain your composure.

The warmth of the moment lingers around you like a soft blanket, and you can feel the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through your body. Kento’s kisses trail along your glistening skin, each gentle press of his lips a sweet reminder of the connection you’ve just shared.

His lips are soft against you, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, and the scent of your mingled skin fills the air with a heady sweetness that is all-consuming.

“I would get you jealous often, baby.” you tease, a playful smile curving your lips as you look down at him.

Kento pauses, lifting his gaze to meet yours, his expression a mixture of amusement and mock seriousness. “Is that so?” he replies, his voice a low rumble that sends a delightful shiver through you.

The intensity in his eyes is unmistakable, a mix of possessiveness and affection that makes your heart flutter.You can’t help but laugh softly, the sound echoing around you in the intimate space you’ve created together.

“Absolutely. You should see how cute you get when you’re all riled up, baby.” you say, playfully nudging him with your shoulder. “Fiesty and all.”

His lips curve into a smirk, and he leans closer, brushing his nose against yours. “You’re lucky I’m not the type to stay jealous for long, my love.” he murmurs, the warmth of his breath tickling your face. “But if it means I get to have you like this…”

His voice trails off, and he plants a series of soft kisses down your neck, each one sending delightful tingles racing across your skin. You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment to relish the sensations he stirs within you.

“You’re incorrigible sometimes, Kento.” you whisper, feeling the weight of his affection enveloping you. The playful banter only adds to the intimacy, making it all the more special, as if you were sharing a secret joke that only the two of you understood.

“Only for you, my love.” he replies, his voice sincere as he pulls back just enough to gaze into your eyes. “But really, seeing you light up like that—it’s worth it. Just know I’ll always come back to claim what’s mine.”

epilogue

As the soft glow of the evening light filtered through the window, casting gentle shadows across the room, you and Kento found yourselves nestled comfortably together. You hadn’t left the bed much since this morning.

And your husband was incredibly happy about that. He wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. Everything about the room smelt like sex and sweat, that was to be expected. Your husband’s insatiable when he gets into it.

But the atmosphere was relaxed and intimate, the air filled with the kind of warmth that comes from deep affection. Everything about the aftermath was the passion of lovers who will always be in love.

And you couldn't help but admit that you felt blessed with that. This passion between you and Kento, it will never die. For bitter, for worse, for good and better — you will always have this. You will always be together like this.

After a playful exchange repeating over and over again, you both took breaks in between. For a while, you both watched some television. Kento seems to enjoy Love Island, so he wants to watch the whole series with you now. A little while later, the two of you talked a little bit about the little things you’ve seen and done lately.

Soon enough, you were sure you were hungry. Kento immediately kissed you and went to the kitchen, coming back with some bowls of favorite snacks and some refreshing drinks, on ice.

But of course, he urged you to drink the water most. With all the screaming he’s made you do, he’s a little bit more worried about your voice,

You both conversed about silly things now, laughing at how Yuji seems to be as silly as ever before. About how Gakuganji seems to continue to be annoyed by Gojo Satoru’s phone calls.

But then he talked about Gojo Satoru expecting another child on the way, albeit accidental. In that moment, you realized it was that moment. So, you took a moment to shift the conversation to that.

“You know, baby…..” you began, leaning your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. “I know you’re still busy, I’ve been thinking maybe….just maybe…”

“You know surprises aren’t needed.” He laughs, lowering his head to press a kiss to your cheek.

“I know, I know.” You roll your eyes playfully but let out a small smile, leaning against his chest. “Don’t you think it’s time we consider having kids soon. I’m really happy to make that happen soon.”

Kento turned to you, his brow raising in playful skepticism, but a smile tugged at his lips. “Is that so? You’re ready to dive into the chaos of parenting, my love? You know it’s a lot of work, right?” He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting, filling the space between you.

You couldn’t help but grin back, your heart fluttering at the prospect. “Of course! But I think it would be so worth it. Just imagine our little ones running around, making messes and keeping us on our toes.”

He smiles at you fondly. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I know so.” You grinned at him. “I can also see you being the doting dad, teaching them all about fighting and how to protect themselves. Or you know, just making some bread from home! I do miss authentic rye bread from an expert in Danish baked goods. Imagine how our kids will feel when they eat it too!”

He laughed, a rich, hearty sound that echoed in the room and made you feel light with joy. “You think so? I suppose you’re right, my love. I can already picture myself getting wrapped around their little fingers. They’d have me wrapped around their hearts in no time.”

The sincerity in his tone made your heart swell with happiness.

Everything about your husband makes you feel happy everyday.

If life were to teach what happiness looks like, it would be him.

“Exactly!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over. “And they’d have your strength and my charm. Can you imagine how adorable they’d be?”

Kento’s expression softened, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “You know, I’ve always wanted that. A family with you. You make everything better.” His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, igniting a sense of hope and love within you.

“So, you’re on board with the idea?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with anticipation.

“Absolutely, my love.” he replied, that playful smirk returning to his face. “But first, I think we need to indulge in another round of this.”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, and captured your lips in a kiss that sent shivers down your spine. You melted against him, losing yourself in the moment, the kiss deepening as he pulled you closer.

It was intoxicating, filled with a mix of passion and love that made your heart race. Everything about Kento was just a pool you wanna drown in. Everything about him was worth drowning in. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped up in each other, a perfect blend of laughter, warmth, and desire.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your cheeks flushed with warmth, Kento looked at you with that glint of mischief in his eyes that you adored.

“Okay, let’s talk about the details later, my love.” he said, grinning widely. “But for now, I think we have some important work to do to ensure that happens.”

With that, he pulled you back into another passionate kiss, laughter bubbling between you as you savored the moment. You felt the electric connection between you, the promise of a beautiful future hanging in the air, ripe with possibilities.

As you both continued to kiss, the playful banter resumed, filled with sweet nothings and playful teasing about the “practice” needed for the future family you envisioned. After all, practice makes perfect.

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peanutpinet · 3 days ago

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Biased - Sylus x Innocent Fem Reader (Under My Care Pt. 2)

Request: Can we have a part 2 where Innocent MC accidentally interrupting a meeting because she was exited about something and really wanted to tell Sylus? ( It can be simply as she got him a special crow plush or she won something but Sylus and the twins forgot to tell her about the meeting?)

A/N: some have been requesting a pt. 2 of Under My Care and one of you made a specific request about it. Just a lil fluff I decided to post for those who are looking for more Sylus fluff. I hope that this fic brightens up your day 🥰

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest and credit goes to the image's respective owners.

Warnings: fluff, slightly aggressive Sylus (not towards you, his men lmao), possessive and protective Slyus (not in a bad way)

After months of dating Sylus, he finally brought you to his penthouse at the N109 zone. Ever since the night when some of Sylus’ business partners barged into your dinner date, Sylus has shared more secrets of himself with you. But to Sylus’ surprise, you weren’t scared of him. You weren’t scared at the fact that he was the leader of a notorious bad group of people, the number one most wanted person in the N109 zone, the man who everyone practically feared.

Because to you, he’s just Sylus. He’s your first boyfriend and the first ever person to accept you for who you are. To not push your boundaries and be willing to do whatever it is that you enjoy. Knowing that you didn’t care about his title, money, or status made Sylus love you even more.

He would occasionally take you to his penthouse to stay over the weekend before bringing you back to Linkon, where you worked at a local bakery. He would also send you gifts and souvenirs whenever he was travelling. No matter where he was, or what time it was, Sylus would always be there whenever you needed him.

You suddenly got your period and want to cuddle with him? During your phone call, Sylus had teleported himself outside of your room. You wanted to visit a certain country? Sylus would immediately prepare his private jet and take you there, buying you all the things that your eyes lingered on. You want to try new hobbies? Sylus would pay for your lessons. All he asked is for you to stay by him which you had always done since the beginning.

This week, you had the whole week off and decided to stay with Sylus for the whole week which Sylus would tease about is; saying it was practice for when you two get married and settle down together. Despite your good baking and cooking skills, Sylus would still do most of the cooking. As for housework, you tried to be sneaky and do it while Sylus was in a meeting or something but Sylus would always know. He had Mephisto keep an eye on you and when he saw the chance, Sylus would immediately teleport behind you, wrapping his large hands around your waist, having a playful debate before finally coming to a middle ground and doing the housework together.

Today, however, you were determined to impress Sylus. You told Sylus that you wanted to head into town for a moment just to go to the grocery shop. But when you didn’t see him anywhere, you thought that this was the perfect chance to actually surprise him. But first, you tried to find Mephisto because you knew that even if you couldn’t find Sylus, he would always remind you to either text him or at least bring Mephisto with you.

Once you found Mephisto, you invited the mechanical bird who has taken a liking in you and texted Sylus before heading to the nearby grocery shop. You walked to the grocery store with Mephisto sitting on your shoulder, accompanying you as you stroll through the aisle, putting fresh produce, several baking materials, and snacks in your shopping cart.

After paying for the groceries with Sylus’ card; because the man hid your wallet whenever you came to visit him and would always put one of his cards in your wallet. You and Mephisto walked back to the penthouse where you started to prepare a feast for Sylus and the twins, Luke and Kieran.

Aside from Mephisto, you also bonded with the twins, Luke and Kieran, very well. They would often accompany you if Sylus were to have a sudden meeting or if you were bored but the twins were free and it ended up with the three of you playing kitty cards.

But again, today, it was just you and Mephisto. Even though the mechanical bird couldn’t talk, you kept on talking with it and even asked him to help take some ingredients for you as you cooked while you wait for your baked goods in the oven.

You decided to make some of Sylus’ favourite food which were braised beef with a side dish of sauteed vegetables along with some baked good which were brownies and chocolate chip cookies.

Once both the food you cooked and baked goods were done, you decided to plate them neatly and decided to search for Sylus in the penthouse because you know that when Sylus was out, he would always text you but because he didn’t, you were certain he was still in the penthouse.

After sometime, you finally heard Sylus’ voice, excitement surged through you as you barged into the room without thinking, expressing your happiness for making Sylus’ favourite food and some sweet treats for him and the twins.

“Sy, Luke, Kieran, I made lunch and some sweet and…” you exclaimed but didn’t even get to finish as you saw the situation in the room

Sylus was sitting in his chair with Luke and Kieran standing to either side of him, the entire room was filled with men who all wore black just like Luke and Kieran were. They didn’t looked like bodyguards, some were older than others, and you could tell that they were in an important meeting which reminded you of the time where Sylus’ business partner first barged in during your dinner date.

As if Sylus was able to read your mind without his aether core, Sylus immediately called out to you before anyone else could speak of something. “Hi sweetie, c’mere. Show me what you made for me and the twins, hmm?”

Sylus could sense your uncertainty with being watched by everyone in the room whom you didn’t know and honestly it was getting on his nerves because he could see how some of the men were eyeing you like you were a sweet treat.

“If any of you eye her or think about her in any way that displeases me, I’ll have to have an additional talk with you all. Personally” Sylus threatened as he motioned you to come closer to him. “It’s okay sweetie, come here”

You then started to walk cautiously towards Sylus who welcomed you with open arms and helped you sit on his lap as you held the lunch you made for him and the twins. “It’s okay sweetie, you weren’t disturbing anything too serious, hmm” Sylus gently held your chin between his fingers, rubbing it lovingly

You tried your best to seem like you’re okay and nodded towards Sylus who still wasn’t convinced but he didn’t want to push you too far. “Okay, sweetie. Let me wrap up this meeting real quick for you, yeah?”

Sylus kissed the top of your head before letting you lean on his broad chest as he quickly wrapped up the meeting which has gone for over half of the day. By the end of the meeting, Sylus managed to scare everyone in the room except the twins and you who immediately scurried out of the meeting room, not even daring to see Sylus’ eyes or look at you at all.

By the time everyone left, it was just you, Sylus, and the twins in the room. “So, what did you make for us, sweetie?”

Before you could show Sylus, the twins spoke up, apologising for not remembering to tell me that Sylus had a meeting. “We’re sorry boss and miss. We forgot to tell you about the meeting”

You looked at the twins and back at Sylus, worried that the twins were going to get scolded for forgetting but to your surprise, Sylus seemed unfazed and he dismissed the twins’ apology. “It happens. We were all busy. You both were with me during the meeting. I’m not mad that you both forgot or that (y/n) here suddenly came in. I’m more pissed that those fuckers had the audacity to look at her the way they did just now”

“Y-you’re not angry I, I suddenly came into your meeting?” you asked quietly and Sylus looked at you with a smirk, his eyes seemed to be hypnotised by the sight of you looking ever so small in his lap

“How could I ever be angry at you, sweetie? In fact, I much rather you interrupt any boring meeting I have and even accompany me if you’d like. I always love you being close to me and even sit on my lap like this” Sylus smirked, kissing the side of your temple

“You’re so biased, sy. What would your business partners or other men think?” you giggled as Sylus smiled and littered your face with kisses

“Let them see that I’m biased because nothing else matters” Sylus smiled, hugging you closer

“Alright miss, why don’t you just hand us our portion of food you prepared so we can leave the two of you alone” Luke stated making everyone in the room laugh

A/N: if you have any specific requests for Sylus do send me a request or message so I can refer back easily. Thank you for reading and have a great day :) xoxo peanutpinet

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boofeine · 24 hours ago

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things that get svt vocal in bed

hello, this is (once was) @wannabelife :/ my acc got suspended, and now im trying to start new on this blog. consider this my first post all over again ig...

WARNINGS: smut headcanons, general reader, mdni

a/n: finals are all done, im baaack fr 🫡 requests are open

tags: @huen1ngk4i @aaniag @svteensworld @unlikelysublimekryptonite

seungcheol gets wrecked with a little bit of pain. nothing too crazy; the grip you have on his biceps, your knuckles white that will leave red marks in his skin later is more than enough to make him lose it. he goes insane when you pull his hair and neck, and scratch his back and abs.

jeonghan loves to hear you, be vocal for him, and you will hear back from him. the little whines of his name you let out makes his cock harder, the low groans making out of his lips as he watches you squirm and moan for him.

joshua loses it all with the skinship. hug him close, press your bodies together tight. he loves how your hard nipples stroke agains his, and your sounds are beautifully on the nap of his ear.

junhui loves when you move to meet up his thrusts. the way you roll your hips onto his while moaning, losing yourself, more desesparate to chase your high than anything else. nothing else matters, makes his hips hault because of you.

soonyoung gets crazy under pressure, truly just push his bottoms "is that all you got?" and he will keep doing a better job each time. he fucks you so good that he, himself, cant believe it feels that amazing, his moans louder and sweaty skin.

wonwoo is only mewling if you edge him, that's the only way you will be hearing those beautiful low husky moans. the overstimulation kicking in, his head going back as he lets out the nastiest moan from the back of his throat, eyes shut.

jihoon is most vocal when you give him head. you will hear him throughout the whole thing, but he gets louder when you look up at him. your gaze fixed on his, his face twisted in pure bliss and plesure, as your mouth is full of him.

seokmin feels he's about to bust his balls when you praise him. "so good, oh my god, you're perfect" "you fuck me so good, im gonna cum" "like that" your sweet words, making him twitch, his lewd moans almost music to your ears.

mingyu gets weak when you take over, rolling his body to the side as you crawl to sit over him. your hands going behind your back, finding stability at his thighs as you ride him with the sounds of him whiny crying out your name.

minghao loves the dirty talk. the way you get bratty and challenging with your words makes him lose it completely. gets him on the edge, grunting and groaning, fucking you restless.

seungkwan also gets louder with a little bit of pain, he's a bit freaky, tho. grip his hair, pull his head back, bite his neck, choke him, i'd even say slap him, i think he can enjoy that too, dig your nails to his skin, and this man will be squirming, moaning, grunting, completely at your mercy.

vernon goes crazy when you beg. the little cry on your tone as you beg him to not stop, to make you cum, to fill you up. and when you wrap your legs around his hips, kneels on his ass and lower back, pulling him deeper inside you, that's his end, he's a sobbing moaning mess.

chan is gasping for air when you put a show for him. his cock dripping and lungs burning as you play with yourself for him, pinching your nipples and swirling on your cunt, has him letting out those needy breathy moans as he watches you.

#was wannabelife #seventeen #fanfic #svt #svt x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #svt smut #svt scenarios #seventeen headcanons #svt headcanons #seventeen x reader

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xoluvx · 1 day ago

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for the ‘first of many’ list, reader and billie’s first kiss would be so cute

omg yessss!! enjoy love. this is also for all my babies that need a little comfort right now ilysm 💖

how do you even have your first kiss? you asked yourself that constantly. you'd had kisses. plenty of kisses but none with the girl of your dreams. no anticipated kiss had made you lose sleep like this one. no kiss had you spinning in circles like this one. who decides when the kiss is going to happen? where is it going to happen? how is it going to happen? it just kind of .. happens, right?

to say you were a nervous wreck was an understatement. you got silly little butterflies every time you were around her. it felt like a middle school crush. one where your hands brushed and you pulled away quickly because the sparks were too intense. one where she looked at you and you felt the stupid butterflies in your stomach again and you were flushed and could hardly breathe. one where you were too shy to get close to her on the couch because it felt too intimate.

she was always the first one to concede. the first one to hold your hand and stare into your eyes. they were so sparkly dusted with magic. her lips always flattened in a shy smile as her cheeks turned pink. she was always the first one to wrap her arm around your shoulder and pull you close while you watched a movie. smelling your hair and brushing your arm with her delicate fingers. tapping on your skin to the beat of the soundtrack.

she led you followed. that was always the case. that's always how it went.

your first kiss.. however, was a different story. she hadn't made a move. hadn't even attempted. every time you thought it was going to happen you felt so giddy. you swallowed the butterflies because you didn't want them to spill all over her and then..

..and then it didn't happen. you were sure the disappointment was written on your face each time and there's no way she didn't notice. there's no way she didn't want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss her. after building up the courage, you finally did the thing you didn't think you'd ever do. you just asked her.

"do you want to kiss me?" your voice was sheepish as you sat on the couch abruptly. the uncertainty had been eating away at you. you'd been watching a movie and every time you glanced up at her she was so focused on the screen you just looked down swallowing the urge to say something or to just walk out in frustration

"what?" billie turning to look at you. there was unreadable expression on her face. like she was confused but not as to why you were asking that question, but as to why you thought she wouldn't want to kiss you.

"do you want to kiss me, billie?" you asked with a little more certainty in your voice. you cleared your throat and held your weight on the couch with your arm. your brows furrowed waiting for her response. your heart was beating rapidly. your hands were clammy. were you going to start crying? oh god. you couldn't contain your feelings. they were spill all over her if she didn't answer in the next second.

and that's when she kissed you. she cupped your face. she leaned in. her soft lips grazed yours for a brief second. you inhaled sharply feeling lightheaded. all the air was knocked out of your lungs as your noses brushed. when your arms wrapped around her shoulders, she kissed you with certainty. her lips so sugary sweet on yours as they found the perfect rhythm. heads moving in opposite directions as you joined together so close you were almost one.

it was everything you wanted and none of what you expected. it was unexpectedly perfect.

"i've been wanting to kiss you since the first day i saw you," she confessed pulling away only to lean her forehead against yours. you were catching your breath as a smile spread across your face at the confession because you'd be a liar to say you hadn't too. "why didn't you?" you asked pulling away to look into her eyes. you could get lost in them for days. you could trace every constellation and explore every sea in her eyes.

"i was nervous. i wasn't sure if you wanted me to kiss you. i've tried-" she rambled nervously pursing her lips as she spilled her guts. she felt safe doing so. she felt it when you kissed her back with the same urgency and passion she'd been feeling for weeks. "you've tried?" you cut her off furrowing your brows trying to pinpoint the times this had happened. she chuckled and squeezed your face pulling you close to kiss you once more time before listing all the times she tried to kiss you.

like the time you were out for dinner and she grabbed your hand, but you pulled away to wipe your mouth. the time she set up a picnic in her backyard and sat next to you feeding you the chocolate strawberries she'd made especially for you. when she went to wipe the chocolate from your chin, you giggled and reached for a napkin. the time she stared directly into your eyes when you slept over for the first time and you cuddled into the comforter closing your eyes before asking her to cuddle you.

you'd wondered 'how, where, when' it'd happened and it'd been in front of you the whole time. the opportunities boundless. and yes, it could have just happened during any of these times, but it didn't. it happened now. her sitting in front of you. eyes pure. words comforting. smiles tender while you tearfully listened as she professed her love and just how badly she'd wanted to kiss you.

your lips molded so perfectly as your hearts beat contently in sync.

first of many; masterlist

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish blurb #billie eilish request #billie eilish fluff

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themoonhauntedmyillusionss · 2 days ago

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𝑶𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 (𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑶𝒏𝒆)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫, 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝟑𝟒 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝟐𝟎, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4.6𝒌

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚛: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕, 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝙲𝚄 𝚜𝚘 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎.

𝙸'𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑.

𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘, 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝.

Baby, am I your little secret?

I’m old enough to keep it

“Y/N! Hurry up, please. Wanda is waiting for us!” You groaned as your mother yelled from the living room. You were fully aware there was absolutely no need for you to take so long to get ready; your mom’s best friend had invited you both to her house since her boys were at their father’s for the week. Your mom had politely asked you to cancel any plans you had with your friends since she believed her friend needed some company because of the messy divorce she was currently going through. You had pretended to huff and puff while trying to convince your mother to go over Wanda’s alone, but she had (luckily) insisted for you to go as well, which made you extremely happy due to the fact that you had an embarrassingly huge crush on the woman since you and your mother had come out of hiding.

It had been two years since the two of you had finally been able to come back to your birthplace. You had spent most of your life in hiding, and your mother had never fully explained to you why you had to go into hiding in the first place. The only thing you were aware of was that it had something to do with her job, which, again, you had no specific idea of what it was. You had met, in the last two years, her coworkers, but none of them had ever said a word about the job; not even Wanda had told you, and you had no idea why.

You had once heard a conversation between your mother and Tony, which was somewhat their boss from what you had gathered so far, but they were just talking about how much your mother was lucky that you had never seen or heard anything about what had happened before the two of you got into hiding, but you had no idea from whom you should’ve heard something since no one was even willing to talk to you about it.

Anyhow, you were now trying to look as good as possible to go over to Wanda’s, not that the redhead would even notice; sure, she was nice, but she was also your mom’s best friend, so she obviously saw you as her own daughter from the moment she reconciled with the both of you after 16 years. Wanda would probably make a comment about how you looked nice, grown up, or even like a lady, but she would never look at you as you wished she would. Sighing at your own thoughts, you ran your fingers through your hair, trying not to make them look as curly as the iron had made them. You didn’t want your mother to notice you had tried to look beautiful for an easy dinner as that was going to be. You ran down the stairs, grabbing your coat, and you saw your mother waiting impatiently at the door. You rolled your eyes at her behavior, and then you smiled happily.

“So, are we going?” You asked as your mother looked at you incredulously, almost giving you a piece of her mind because of how long she had to wait for you; you didn’t give her a chance though; you just opened the door in front of the two of you and went outside. Your mother followed you, sighing. You held your purse closer to your face as you roamed your hands inside. After a few seconds you took out of your bag your pack of cigarettes, and you brought one to your mouth, lighting it up.

“Care to tell me why on earth it took you so long to get ready? It’s not even like we’re going to some fancy dinner or place.” Your mother didn’t even bother to scold you for smoking; she was as sure as heck against it. The two of you had fought for almost as long as you had been smoking, even if you were in hiding when you started. She knew those years were difficult for you; you had no one to talk to beside her, you had no friends, you couldn’t make friends, you never went to school. Your mother had taught you everything you knew, which was everything she knew, everything she had ever learned, from talking to reading and writing. She tried to teach you as many school subjects as she could; she taught you grammar, math, history, and geography. The one thing your mother sure as hell knew and taught you perfectly were foreign languages; you had no idea how or when she had learned them, but she managed to teach you French, German, Russian, Chinese, Italian, and Latin.

“I did not take long to get ready; I just didn’t want to come.” You replied, taking a puff and smiling to yourself. Your mother had absolutely no idea you would have spent even more time to get ready to see Wanda, if only you could’ve been sure she would never get suspicious about it. You got in your seat and you fastened your seatbelt; your mother drove off while you rolled down the window.

“Y/N, it’s freezing outside.” It was the same argument your mother made every time to guilt-trip you into stopping your addiction to those cigarettes she hated so much. Not once did she actually manage to make you stop, but that never stopped her from trying. “So, Tony managed to find a way for you to take those exams we talked about.”

“He did?” You basically screamed and jumped in your seat. Your mother and Tony had been trying to find a way for you to actually not having to go through all those school years you had missed. You knew Tony was extremely rich and powerful, but yet you had no idea how he had managed to do such a thing. His plan was for you to take an exam for each subject that was considered necessary for basic knowledge and for the college you wanted to go to. When Stak first talked to you about his idea, you immediately refused. You had no idea how you were supposed to study for an exam; you had no idea what schools usually expected for exams; you weren’t even sure you knew enough stuff to pass it. Your mother, on the other hand, was enthusiastic with the plan; she was so sure she had taught you everything you were supposed to know; she even stated that you knew more than most of the population of the US, but still you weren’t sure.

Of course it was Wanda the one to change your mind; she made sure to plan out some mock exams for you, she made sure you were taught how to properly study, and she assisted you in everything you possibly needed. Your mother helped her do everything, of course, but it was her approval and her faith in you that made you a bit more confident in what you were capable of.

“Solnyshko, you are perfectly capable of passing every exam they could put you through. I’m already sure you are, but if you don’t have that much faith in yourself yet, I will make sure you find out how brilliant you are.”

And just like that, you called Tony yourself, and you asked him to do everything he could to let you take those exams.

“He’s Tony; of course he did.” Your mother smiled at you; you could see how she warmed up as soon as she saw how happy the news made you. You were so lucky to have her; despite your arguments, the two of you were everything you both needed to carry on; she made sure you knew that from the very moment you took your first breath alongside her. You knew the bond the two of you had was the strongest thing in the world. Even if during those years in hiding you suffered, and you were positive your mother suffered as well, probably more than you, she always made sure to let you know you were loved. She always reminded you of all those people who rescued you when you were a baby, who saw you take your first steps and cheered with her when you called her "Mom" for the first time. In those 16 years, she never once let a single doubt about how much you were loved even cross your mind; she made sure you had everything you ever needed, even if it meant sneaking into shops, bars, or movies. You were extremely grateful she was the one to choose to keep you when they rescued you; you didn’t even care if you had had to spend all those years locked away from the rest of the world because you had the most caring, strong, and important person with you all the way. “What are you thinking about?” Your mother asked, looking at you curiously; lately she had a hard time figuring out what was going through your head. When the two of you came back to your birthplace and finally managed to live a normal life, your mother knew that a lot of things were about to change. She knew you were going to start questioning a lot of things, that you were going to figure out a lot of stuff that you didn’t even know existed before, and most of all, she knew that all those fights the two of you didn’t have during your teenage years were going to happen all at once. She was ready for that; what she wasn't ready for was for her not to be able to understand you anymore.

“I love you, mom.” You blurted out without even thinking; it had been quite a while since you had said it out loud, and now you were regretting waiting so much to tell her because she was your whole world still, and you needed to remind her of that. You needed to remind her that no matter what had changed or what could still change, no matter what happened in the world or around you, nothing was ever going to break your special bond. You kissed her on the cheek before looking out the window. “Oh, we’re here. I was so caught up in my own thoughts I hadn't noticed.” You smiled at your mother before getting out of the car.

As soon as you shut the door, you heard the gate behind you squeak. You immediately turned around to find yourself in front of the woman of your current dreams. Her long, wavy red hair was let loose and was framing her face as if she were a portrait. Her green eyes were soft and kind, as you had always seen them; her smile was genuine, not as happy as you’d wished it was, but she was getting there; you knew it. She was wearing a pink minidress, which seemed more of a combined blouse and skirt, with a pair of not-so-high heels. She looked immensely beautiful, and you would’ve told her so if it weren’t for the tiny fact that she was 34 years old and you were 20, she was your mother’s best friend and coworker, and she was straight, recently divorced, and a mother of two.

Just your average-looking relationship.

As you approached Wanda, her smile widened, and yours did too. She opened her arms in your direction, waiting for you to fall into her embrace, just like you always had done. She obviously had no idea the reason why you loved her hugs so much. She had no idea you loved feeling so close to her; you knew it was the only way you had to feel it. She had no idea you loved her perfume—the one you were so obsessed with, the one that was all her. Most of all, she had no idea if it were for you; the embrace would last forever.

“Oh, how are you, detka?" The redhead asked you, and you shivered hearing her accent. You briefly wondered if she could feel it too, but you tried to shake those doubts off because you knew you couldn’t get too lost in your thoughts when you were with her; it was like she could hear them, as if she had a gift.

“She’s stubborn as always, Wanda. Can you believe she took more than an hour to get ready just because she had wanted to do something with her friends instead?” You heard your mother’s voice behind you, and you rolled your eyes as you took a step back from your heaven. You felt guilty for letting Wanda think you didn’t want to come, to let her think you would put anyone before her, when she was the only thing you could ever think about, from the very moment you opened your eyes in the morning until you fell asleep. Even then, more often than not, you would dream about her.

“You should stop putting your daughter in awkward situations, Nat; I’ve told you this before. Anyway, I can totally believe she took more than an hour to get ready. Ty vyglyadish' prekrasno, sulnyshko.” You looked up from the very interesting spot you had found on the ground, and you stared into those beautiful green eyes. Wanda was smiling at you, and you had no idea what she had told you; her dialect always reminded you of Russian, but you knew she was Sokovian, and you didn’t know a single Sokovian word. You knew she was talking to you because you recognized the pet name she had started calling you as soon as you and your mother had come back. Sulnyshko meant sunshine, or little sun, which was the literal translation and also the one you preferred. She always called you that, and each time you blushed heavily, you could feel the warmth reach your ears, and you knew she noticed it every time too, because after feeling your face and ears get warm, you’d notice her smile widening.

“Shall we get inside?” Wanda asked, her gaze shifting from looking closely at your reaction to looking at your mother and gesturing for the both of you to get inside. Your mother nodded, and the three of you entered her house. It was warmer than you had expected; you didn’t know if it was because the redhead knew you would be there or because she was getting better at taking care of herself and not basically almost freezing herself to death.

You knocked on the door; you knew you shouldn’t be there, but your mother had just finished telling you that the day before she had gone to Wanda’s, she had found the woman curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the TV screen, which had been off.

You were worried; you knew she hadn’t invited you to her house, but you needed to see her; you needed to know she was at least managing. You had no idea why the joint custody of the boys seemed to be a problem; it was one of the many topics no one seemed to want to explain to you. The only thing you knew was that Vision might get full custody, and you were sure Wanda was not taking it well.

It had been some minutes and no one had answered the door. You didn’t know if you needed to be relieved, if maybe she went somewhere with her children, or if you had to be even more worried than you already were. You tried knocking again.

The door swung open in front of you, and you found yourself looking at the woman you loved had a huge crush on; she seemed angry, stressed, and sad all at once.

“If I’m not answering, maybe I don’t want to be bo - Malyshka. Hi, what are you doing here?” She stopped her yelling as soon as her eyes landed on you. You wanted to disappear from her porch cursing yourself for bothering her, but she was now looking at you with so much love and affection that you couldn't do anything else than hug her.

She didn’t hug you back immediately; you felt her body stiffen at first, but slowly you felt her arms circle your figure and her own loosen up; you almost felt as if you needed to support her before she fell to the ground.

You hugged for what felt like hours, days even, but you didn’t let go; you never would’ve.

“May I come in? I was worried about you, to be honest.” You mumbled into her shoulder; you heard her sigh, she didn’t like to be rescued. Wanda let go of your body and gestured for you to get inside. You gave her an apologetic smile as you stepped into her house. As soon as Wanda closed the door, the slight warmth coming from the sun was gone, and you found yourself in a freezing room.

“Do you want some tea? Or coffee?” The redhead asked you, acting as if nothing was off, as if her house couldn't compete with Santa Clause’s; but you were there to make her feel better, and you were going to do just that.

“Let me take care of that; is that okay? Maybe you could wait in the living room or on the couch, whatever you prefer.” You smiled at her as she nodded; she went off to the couch, and you went to the kitchen, starting on making some tea. As you wandered around the kitchen looking into the cabinets to find something to eat along with the tea, you decided to just bake some cookies. Wanda had not much to eat.

You added that to the list of things to worry about, and you started to make the dough. You were so lost in cooking that when you turned around and found Wanda sitting at the counter, you jumped and almost screamed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just didn’t want to be alone on the couch knowing you are here,” the redhead explained to you, and you smiled at her. You took her hands in yours and nodded. You then turned around once again and grabbed two mugs. You poured some water into them and placed Earl Gray in her mug and orange cinnamon in yours.

You took your seat beside her and waited for the tea to cool off a bit. You noticed Wanda was grabbing the mug tightly, as if she were trying to warm herself up; you wondered why she wasn’t turning on the heat if she was cold.

“I was wondering... do you mind if I turn on the heat just a little bit? I don’t know about you, but I would love it a bit warmer in here.” You tried it this way; maybe if you made it about you and not about her, she wouldn’t feel like you were trying to help her or rescue her and would agree with you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it didn’t occur to me you might find it cold in here. I’m used to it; I don’t usually feel that cold, but if you want, I can turn it up for you.” You nodded gratefully and smiled victoriously as you watched her make her way to the thermostat. She was soon back at your side, and you both drank the tea in silence. You looked at her from time to time, but she was always looking down into her mug, as if she had found something interesting inside.

When you were both finished with it, you grabbed the mugs and washed them. You looked at the time and noticed the cookies still needed 20 more minutes. You didn’t want to overstay your welcome, but you wanted to make sure she was going to eat something. Conflicted, you tried to make a good impression anyway.

“Can I leave the cookies to your care? I think-” Wanda didn’t let you finish your sentence; she grabbed your hand as she noticed you rising once again from the chair, only this time there were no mugs to wash. You looked at her concerned and found her eyes looking at you hopeful.

“Can you stay some more time? I don’t feel like being alone, and I really enjoy your company.” Her lip was quivering, you didn’t want her to cry; she probably wouldn't have done it anyway, not in front of you. In that moment, you had to take complete control of yourself and try not to stare at her lips when she needed you.

You erased the distance there was between the two of you and hugged her once again; she immediately responded to the embrace this time, hugging you tightly.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The dinner was pleasant, not that you ever had any doubt about it. Wanda was an amazing hostess, and your mother had always been amazing to spend time with. You had tried once again to ask them how they met; they both rolled their eyes at you, and while your mother laughed at you for never giving up, Wanda smiled at you apologetically. You were sure she wanted to tell you something—anything of the things they were all keeping you out of—but probably they had made her swear she wouldn’t.

You had noticed Wanda was restless that evening; she kept looking at you and then looking away, like you burned her with your gaze. She often blushed, and you had no idea why; she even had to pop a button of her dress or two open, but you didn’t even have time to fully appreciate her beauty that she buttoned up again, in a rush. The redhead kept blushing, she kept fidgeting in her seat, she was always moving; even your mother noticed and asked her if everything was okay. Wanda just nodded and told her she was hot, brushing it off as nothing. You just didn’t believe her; something was off, and you had no idea what that could be.

Every time your mother and her friend talked about things only the two of them could understand, your mind trailed off, wandering to places and universes in which you and Wanda were together, in which you could admire her in all her beauty. You wished you really could see all of her; you wished you could kiss her every day, multiple times a day; you wished you could kiss every part of her; you wished she would kiss you too.

You had recently found out about certain things you had not known before, the way one can enjoy a bit of pain during the pleasure, and the way sometimes it enhances the pleasure itself. So, each time Wanda would use her hands while talking, you would picture those hands gently closing around your throat while she soothes you but also pleasures you.

Your mind was so far gone during that dinner, and you were glad neither your mother nor Wanda noticed anything, except for when Wanda would occasionally look at you with those big green eyes, which seemed bigger than usual, just when you were thinking about things extremely explicitly. So then you felt guilty for thinking about such things involving her.

“So, since it has been two weeks, do you have any news for us?” Your mother asked her friend, and you wanted to curse at her. You knew what she wanted to know; she was waiting for Wanda to tell you how her week with her children was, if she had seen Vision, and if they had talked. You were worried Wanda just wasn’t ready to talk about it, and, also, you really didn’t want to know anything about the sperm donor.

Your internal cursing at your mother and Vision was interrupted by the sweetest laugh you had ever heard. Wanda was looking at you, and she was genuinely laughing. You had no idea why; you hadn’t talked or, wait...

“Did I say that out loud?” You asked extremely embarrassed; you were now sure that all those efforts not to make your mother or Wanda suspicious about your feelings towards the redhead were now useless. How could you have been so stupid to—

“No, lisichka, I think Wanda here is being a little silly, isn’t she?” You knew very well that tone; your mother was warning Wanda, and you had no idea why, but you didn’t like it. Whatever was the reason that made the redhead laugh was okay; she was laughing, and there was nothing more beautiful in the whole world. You wished to be able to hear her laughter every day, to be the one to make her laugh, to be able to laugh with her. You wanted to be able to sneak up to her, tickle her, and watch her squirm against your fingers—

“I- I think I need to go check on the dessert; excuse me for a moment.” The redhead unwillingly interrupted you again. You noticed her blush a little before she made her way to the kitchen; you were now confused. You had expected for her to feel either intimidated by your mother or angry at her tone; you had not expected for her to blush and hide away. Your mother excused herself as well, saying she needed to go to the bathroom. You nodded and took that opportunity to stand up and follow Wanda to the kitchen, already planning to use as an excuse the fact that you wanted to see if she needed help.

As you entered the kitchen, you stopped your steps to look at the woman in front of you. She was leaning against the counter, both hands gripping onto it; she looked just beautiful. You got closer and you caught a glimpse of her legs, so smooth and long, and you lost yourself in your thoughts. The way you wanted to kiss them so badly—to touch them, caress them, feel them tremble against—

“You need to stop.” Her voice was trembling; you had no idea what she was talking about. She still wasn’t facing you, but you could see her whole body quivering, and for a moment you were worried she was hurt, that maybe she hurt herself in some way, so you made your way to her. As you got closer, her grip on the counter tightened, and her breath got more labored. “The things you do to me, with your stares, your looks. You have no idea of the way you look at me, like you want to devour me. And then your thoughts... I just-”

“My what?” You were now looking at the woman confused; why was she walking about your thoughts? Sure, you always thought it was weird for her to always know what you were thinking about, but you always assumed it was because she knew you better than most people. Wanda turned around; she was now facing you; her eyes were dark, darker than you had ever seen them, and she was looking at you intensely. She started to walk towards you; she was merely inches away. You could feel her breath on your face, and you wanted to feel her even closer. She closed her eyes, and as she opened them again, everything was gone. You heard your mother walk close by and Wanda walking away.

“I burned the dessert, I’m so sorry. Nat, I think it’s better for the two of you to go now. I’m sorry. I just need some time alone; I feel tired right now.”

And just like that, you and your mother were on your way home; Wanda had not said goodbye to you the way she used to. She didn’t hug you, and you missed it. She didn’t kiss your cheek, and you missed the feeling of her lips against your skin. The redhead didn’t even explain to you what was happening before your mother came into the kitchen. You had no idea what you had done, but something had changed.

#mommy wanda #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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cheeseceli · 3 days ago

Text

The Night We Met

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers, second chance, fic (2.8k words)

Prompt: “I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met."

Warnings: both of them cry at some point, heartbreak, insecurities, party (?), Han makes a cameo, happy ending

A/n: when the hardest part of writing is finding the right layout | daily click

I had all

Hyunjin knew more than to trust Han Jisung. Of course, he loved Han as one would love a brother, and he would trust his life to his friend if needed, but he should've known to not trust Han to stay put during the party. Simply because Jisung was nowhere to be found and Hyunjin was now holding two glasses of drink in the middle of unknown faces.

Great.

Trying to get a hold of his friend, Hyunjin navigated the sea of strangers. "I'll stay with you all the time. It will be fun." Honestly, how did he even believe his friend at all? Throughout all the time he looked for him, he made a mental note of never going out with Han again.

Finding a balcony, Hyunjin thought his friend could be there. He probably ran out of social battery and ran away from the crowd. Yeah, that could be it. Even better, as Hyunjin himself couldn't stand being in that party anymore. Maybe they both could just put an end to the night and finally go home.

Hyunjin even smiled at the thought, only to see an empty balcony when he opened the door. He was not going home any time soon apparently.

With the not so optimistic thought, he leaned on the wall and sat down, sighing. That was not how he thought his night was going to look like. Now he was with two cups of a horrible drink, sitting on the dirty floor, shivering because of the cold breeze and -

"There are some blankets in the sofa if you want."

He turned his head quite fast, almost dripping the liquid on the cup into his clothes, to the direction of the voice. You were sitting in the corner of the balcony, where the lights couldn't reach properly. He couldn't see your figure, but as he didn't recognise your voice, he probably didn't even know you to begin with.

"Uh... Thank you" he got up off his spot and went in the direction of the said couch, which was fairly close to where you were sat. There were some blankets in there, and they were surprisingly clean. Hyunjin glanced at you only to see you weren't looking at him anymore, instead facing the view and covering your body with a fabric he believes you took from the couch. "What are you doing?"

You looked at him again. He didn't recognise your face, which proves the fact that he really didn't know you before, but he's sure he won't ever forget you after tonight. You were unfairly beautiful.

"I'm just taking a break from the party" you say nonchalantly "Things can get overwhelming rather quickly there."

Hyunjin chuckled; he knew the feeling very well. Actually, he was drowned in the sensation of "overwhelm" just five minutes before. Funnily enough, he was feeling way better now. Refreshed, even. He sat on the floor, back on the sofa, while he covered his legs with one of the blankets "I know what you mean. The ambience was... Chaotic, to say the least. I'm Hyunjin, by the way."

You smiled and God, he wished he could be the reason to so many of your future smiles. And he was, in fact. That night was only the beginning of a "you" that meant two. The only difference would be that instead of finding yourselves in boring parties, you'd purposely go to each other every cold night, just so you could share a blanket under the starry night.

You would admire the view, he would look at you, and he felt like he had it all right there.

And some of you

But not every night was about staying awake under the moon. Some were actually used to sleep, and how Hyunjin despised those were inexplicable.

At the beginning, he thought he just didn't want to close his eyes when he could be with you instead. That stopped when he convinced you of sharing a bed almost every night. Then he would hug your figure and sleep with a smile on his lips. Sweet dreams would fill his brain until he had to wake up, only to find you in his arms and have the first smile of his day.

However, at some point, the night became full of terrors. Maybe it was that one night where he had a bad dream, where he could feel you slipping away from his fingers. Where no "I'm sorry" or "I love you" convinced you to stay. Where your eyes were still filled with love and admiration, yet you turned your back and went away. Amidst his tears and the dreadful pain in his chest, he felt realisation. The moment he completely lost you. And to wake up to an empty bed was not the confirmation he needed.

"Y/n?" he whispered his voice still too weak to actually speak. That could not be it. He repeated himself, louder. "Y/n?"

He felt his lungs unable to breathe. No no no no no no. There was no way he lost you that easily, that he lost you at all. The moment he tried to get out of bed in a failed attempt to go after you, he shattered down into the floor. It all felt too dark. Too real.

"Hyune?" he heard your voice on the doorstep, now your footsteps coming closer. Thank God. "Hyune, look at me."

You kneeled down next to him, holding his face. Your touch immediately melted him down and he had no other reaction than to hold you as close as he could, like his life depended on that. He could feel your heart beat and your fingers caressing his hair. He could hear your reassuring voice and how your breathing was calming him down. You were there. No matter what was going on inside his head, you were there. With him. Nowhere else. And Hyunjin really swears he did his best to focus on that, but it didn't completely work.

Somewhere in his being, he didn't feel you as completely as he used to. Maybe it was just his inner voice, but, since that night, he was affirmative that he could feel you slipping away. Even if you reassured him of your love, he was still scared. You still looked at him with love when you left on that cursed night after all. Which made him think that maybe it would be his fault. So he really tried as much as he possibly could, and even more. He said "I love you more". He never hesitated on apologising after a fight. He didn't even dream of losing an opportunity to kiss or hug you, especially at night. Especially when he closed his eyes to sleep and he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything if you decided to just leave.

In those moments, his dreams became prayers, asking God to let him be with you. If not forever, at least for most of it.

Some

He tried to convince himself that it wasn't his fault. It was his first time being in love, it was the first time he ever lived for love. He was still learning. At least he was willing to understand and improve, his friends said, so that should mean something. But none of those things helped him forgive himself.

He couldn't, not when he saw you crying. It wasn't the first time that the both of you argued, not the first time he made you stressed, nor the first time you made him want to rip his hair out. But it was mostly certain the first time he made you cry. And with your eyes filled with tears in front of him, he found himself lost. What on earth was he supposed to do?

He'd love to become a time traveler and just go back to where he hadn't screwed everything up. But that was impossible, wasn't it?

Hyunjin was in shock like he had never been before. What had he said? He doesn't even remember, and he doesn't think something that cruel could've come out of his lips. At least not something that he actually meant. So what did he say? Why did he say it?

Maybe he could've kneeled down next to you, just like you did for him that one night where he had a nightmare. But he remembers that, after falling to the ground, he kept on searching for you. He still wanted you to find him, he needed you to come to him. Would you want him to come any closer? Would you want him to hold you? Would you want him?

He didn't know. And in no part of his being he found the strength to find out. Maybe the fear of being rejected, even if temporarily, scared him the most. He hurt you. You had every single reason to want to scream at him, fight him, even run from him. Would Hyunjin be able to take it? If you were to break his heart, would you just scratch it or would you destroy it? Either way, he couldn't take it.

So he just stood there. He watched as you started to seek comfort in the sweater you were wearing, the one that was originally his. He saw your tears falling in the same rhythm of his unsteady breathing. And he doesn't know when his knees failed him and he just fell down to the ground, helplessly, but he felt it alongside with his heart aching.

We'll be alright, he tried to say. Mostly he tried to convince himself of that matter, but he felt nothing but disappointment the moment he saw your face again. He failed you. As your friend, as your lover. And maybe he could try to say it was his first time being in love, but that doesn't take away the guilt that consumes his brain right now.

Maybe he could say that with some more effort, that could be forgotten in the past and he'd love you better, but he didn't know if you could endure more "some" with him.

And now none of you

Maybe that was the worst that ever happened to him. The punishment of feeling your weight in the bed, of feeling your warmth not too far away, but not feeling your touch. Because that was what was happening. And it hurts.

He could only see the back of your body, as you refused to face him during the night. The bed wasn't even that large, but it seemed like there was an entire ocean separating the both of you. It was unfamiliar, so wrong to not have you attached to him. It felt like what he feared the most. And what's possibly worst is that he should've been used to that now as the past nights were like that too. You were still in his sight, but not where he could reach you.

He tries to think of where he failed and how he can turn back. You never showed sighs of going away until he convinced himself you were. He just didn't want to take you for granted. Did he self sabotage instead? All he ever wanted was to love you. How did he miss himself between the lines?

He hears your soothing breathing and he feels like he could cry. When thinking about losing you, he felt like his world was collapsing. He used to do his best to try to keep you by his side. But now he just feels lost, filled with regrets. Simply because he was dumb enough to lose you for nothing. When did it go wrong?

At that moment, he wondered why you were still there. Obviously, he appreciated it more than he could ever explain, but he couldn't understand. Maybe you just wanted to find something, a single reason, that would be able to explain your permanence. After all, he loved you. You loved him just as much. But maybe, because it was your first time being in love, none of you knew that just love wasn't enough. You can adore someone and maybe even then it won't be enough. Merely because it isn't.

Although you wished to stay, maybe it just wasn't correct for you to do so.

That night, Hyunjin finally came to terms with it. Nothing would stop you from leaving. Not even him, not even you, not even love.

Just like he once prayed to have most of forever with you, now he prays that this will not be your last goodbye. Maybe a "see you soon". Maybe a "we will find each other when we're both ready". Anything along these lines. Just not, for God's sake, a final goodbye. Anything but that.

You're a little bit confused when you wake up being held by Hyunjin. Considering how you made sure to have some distance for the night, hoping that would make things easier, it was a shock to find your entire being intertwined with his. He was hugging you like he would never let go and you were counting on that. You almost complied. But when you felt his tears falling on your shirt, right where Hyunjin laid his head, you knew that he knew it too.

That was not how any of you expected it to go, but none of that mattered in the moment. Not when it was already decided. You hugged him closer, in hopes of stopping the inevitable. When it didn't work, you just wished you'd have more opportunities to hug him again.

Take me to the night we met

It was funny, to say the least. The one time Han didn't forget about Hyunjin in a party was because Hyunjin decided to run away himself this time. At least Jisung improved since the last time they partied together.

But right now, all Hyunjin could think of was to breathe. Breathe in, breathe out. Again. The mood inside the party was suffocating: way too many people doing everything at once. It was chaotic, really. So that's how he found himself in the balcony of the hosting house, breathing in every time the cold air touched his face.

When the door opened, he felt the bit of sanity he had left disappearing. No way he could talk or interact with someone without losing his mind; there was a reason he was running away.

He genuinely thought of just asking the person to go away, claiming he needed some space. But when he glanced at the stranger, he realised that he actually knew the person quite well. He promised himself that he would never forget your face after all.

You haven't perceived him just yet,you were too busy looking at the view. Just like the night he met you. He has always thought it was beautiful how you looked at the dark sky. It was almost as if you had a connection to the stars, like you're one of them who got lost in Earth. You for sure looked as dazzling as one.

"There are no blankets this time. I checked."

It was almost comic how fast you turned your head towards him. You didn't believe your ears when you heard his voice, and you now didn't believe your eyes. It was amazing how you always found your way to him whenever you needed a break from the world. Even after going almost no-contact with him, in a way or another you'd always find him. Or perhaps he is the one who'd always meet you.

"I actually needed one right now." you chuckled, feeling yourself a bit vulnerable to the cold breeze. However, your focus was in Hyunjin and how he looked at you in the same way he did before... everything. You probably looked at him just the same. "Do you mind if I stay? Just for a bit, inside there is quite..."

"Chaotic?" He smiled, emanating this huge feeling of peace.

"To say the least." You watched him move a little to the left, leaving you a spot to sit. And so you did.

Although you were both shivering by being exposed to the outside weather, it felt surprisingly warm being next to each other. It still felt comfortable.

He remembers how he once prayed he'd see you again. He did. He also remembers how he wanted to stay the most part of forever with you. Now that he spent some time without you, he wonders if that means that from now on it will be different. He hopes so.

Hyunjin smiled to himself and looked to the sky just in time to see that the moon seemed to smile right back at him. At you both. And he has a feeling that his prayers were heard after all.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: hold me

Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto | images 1, 2 and 3

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