#not to mention it’s just one of my love languages and something that makes me really happy……

[dollveis]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐇 !

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀you've got a fetish for my love

❝ ELLIE WILLIAMS ❞⠀ ✿ you always push ellie away because you're sure you couldn't work together, but maybe you can under the bed sheets. 3.3k words.

pairing. jackson!ellie x fem!reader content warning! mention of consuming alcohol, smut, vague plot tbh, the smut it's actually pretty light and there's more tension and making out than anything, a bit of fluff and maybe angst if you squint, kind of a enemies to lovers but they're not completely enemies (just don't get along), open ending, oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), top!ellie, bottom! reader, there's not really a dom/sub dynamic here.

☆ this is the first thing i've wrote in like a year and a half so bear with me please, this also has been sitting in my drafts for two years already and i finished it just now. i hope this isn't that bad! if there's any grammatical mistakes please let me know, english is not my first language, enjoy ♡

The party was obviously Dina's idea. She'd been going on about it for weeks now, how the younger crowd of Jackson needed a break, no one had barely time to just be and exist with all the patrolling, hunting and just surviving in general.

The party is already in full swing when you finally arrive, half the town's twenty-somethings crowding Dina's place. The warmth it's the first thing that hits you, the house is candlelit, the soft cracking of the fireplace and the strong scent of whiskey and woodsmoke fill your nostrils. The sound of laughter echoes from the living room, someone's half-drunk attempt at playing the guitar makes everyone laugh, you hear Dina's voice rising above it all, welcoming everyone, teasing people, just keeping the energy high. She really outdid herself, the whole place is alive in a way that Jackson rarely is.

And you hate it.

You immediately thought you shouldn't have come. The party is loud, too loud. It's not that you don't like the people here, you do, for most part, but crowds make you restless and you've spent the whole day convincing yourself that this? this isn't what you need, you should've stayed home but Dina insisted, said you were wound up too tight.

“Loosen up, drink a little, talk to someone who isn't your damn horse!” she said when she greeted you and saw that expression in your face, like if you were about to run back to your house.

So now you were stuck there, standing stiff against a wall, drink in hand and watching the room from a distance like it might swallow you whole.

Then your eyes land on her.

Ellie.

She's sitting in the corner, half sprawled on the couch, beer dangling from her slender fingers and her other arm resting lazily over the back of the couch, boots kicked up on the edge of a coffee table just if like she owns the fucking place. She's laughing at something Jesse just said, her head tilting back slightly, exposing the column of her throat. It's a rare sight— her guard down, her expression relaxed, warmth slipping through the usual sharp edges.

For a second you let yourself look, your gaze fixated on her. The way her shirt clings to her frame, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her tattoo catching the dim light of the place. The way her fingers absently trace the label on her beer bottle. The way her green eyes flick across the room, scanning, searching, until they land on you.

There's a pause, a beat where neither of you look away. Then—

She smirks. Fucking smirks. She lifts her beer slightly, a silent acknowledgement of your presence, before taking a slow sip. She knows exactly what she's doing, she enjoys watching you bristle.

You scoff and turn away, pulse kicking up in annoyance. You and Ellie don't get along, y'all never have, she's stubborn, reckless, too sure of herself in a way that grates on your nerves. Every patrol together turns into a heated argument, every introduction a silent battle. It's not like she's mean, if anything, it'd be easier if she was, but she's just Ellie, all sharp words and cocky grins, pressing your buttons like it's a game. And she's determined to win it. For some reason she never lets up, not with you.

Maybe it's a game of push and pull and you always push first.

An hour passes, maybe more, two? you spend most of it trying to avoid her, talking to Dina, Jesse, anyone else but you feel her presence like a weight. Every time you glance her way, she's already looking, every time you move, she's just there and it's pissing you off.

You down the rest of your drink and push through the crowd, slipping down the back hallway, you don't run but you walk fast enough that it feels like it, you dodge Jesse's half-hearted attempt to pull you into some drinking game. You just need air, space—distance.

The first door you find is half open, a guest room, mostly unused since the bed was neatly made. You step inside, inhaling deeply, relishing the silence

Then the door shuts behind you, you don't even need to turn around to know who it is.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter glaring at the ceiling, “do you ever take a hint?”

Ellie just chuckles, the sound low and amused, “Not when it's this much fun, to be honest,” and you don't even need to look around to know she has that stupid smirk plastered on her face.

You spin to face her, your eyes meeting her intense emerald eyes and your arms crossing tight over your chest, “What the hell do you want?”

She leans against the doorframe, her hand holding her chin like she was pretending to think, “dunno. . . maybe i just like seeing you squirm.”

Your jaw clenches and your fists close, “i'm not squirming.”

You see her smirk grow, a knowing look in her eyes, she looks at you like if she was able to read your thoughts and body language, like if she knew something you don't.

She steps closer, “no?”

You hate how easily she gets under your skin, how quickly she turns the air electric. The room feels smaller with her in it, the tension between you palpable. And the worst part? She knows.

You can feel the anger growing inside you, “why do you always do this?” you snap.

Through her lips escapes a soft chuckle as her brow raises, “do what?”

“This. You act like— like —” you exhale sharply, trying to put your mind in order and find the right words, “like you're trying to get a rise out of me.”

Another step, now you can smell the mix of beer and whiskey on her breath, the faint scent of smoke clinging to her shirt, “what if i am?” she says, her voice now lower, rougher.

You breath hitches, for a moment neither of you move, the tension is thick, suffocating, a rope pulled too tight between you, you're both too stubborn, too reckless, you'd burn each other out before you even had the chance to try.

Your heart pounds, your skin prickles, and fuck, you should push her away like you always do.

But you don't.

You take a step forward, closing the distance completely. Ellie doesn't flinch, doesn't back down, if anything she leans in, her usual green eyes now dark and heavy lidded, her smirk fading into something different. Something dangerous.

“You gonna keep pretending?” she murmurs close to your ear.

You don't answer, you can't because she's right and you both know it. So when she tilts her head, gaze flicking down to your lips— when she hesitates, waiting for you— you do the stupidest thing imaginable.

You kiss her.

The kiss is not soft, not sweet, there's frustration, months of tension unravelling all at once. Ellie makes a sound low in her throat, something between a gasp and a groan, and then she's grabbing you, fingers curling around the back of your neck, pulling you into her, pressing you against the door. The alcohol on her tongue is dizzying, her body solid and warm against yours and fuck, maybe you should stop. Maybe this is a mistake— but when she bites at your bottom lip, hands slipping under your jacket, pulling, teasing, demanding, you know there's no going back.

Ellie kisses like she fights, hungry, restless, all consuming. Her hands grip at your waist, pulling you impossibly close, fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt like she's trying to stake her claim. The taste of her mouth makes your head spin. You should stop, you really should, you keep repeating that to yourself in your mind but when she presses you harder against the wall, when she nips at your lower lip and swallows the soft, sweet sound it pulls from your throat— you don't. You won't.

Your hands move on their own, fisting into the front of her shirt, yanking her closer, until there's barely any space left between the both of you. You feel Ellie exhale sharply against your lips, a quiet, breathy curse before tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Months of pent-up frustration unraveling with every movement.

Her hands now drag under your jacket, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, her rough and calloused fingers grazing over your bare skin. The touch sends a shiver through you, your breath hitching as she maps the contours of your waist, ribs, back and dangerously close to your chest.

“Fuck,” Ellie mutters against your mouth, voice husky and almost desperate, “you're—” she cuts herself off, biting at your lip again before pulling back just enough to look at you.

Your chest rises and falls in tandem, lips swallowed and face flushed. And, God, that sight was delightful for her, she could feel herself getting wet just by looking at you, her pupils are blown wide, green eyes dark and unreadable as they flick between your lips and your gaze. She's still gripping at your waist, still pressing you into the door, but there's hesitation now— like she's waiting, like she's asking, like she needs you to make the next move.

You exhale, reaching up, letting your fingers tangle in the short hairs at the nape of her neck. She shivers under your touch, just barely, and something about that sends a thrill directly to your core, making you bolder and almost demanding.

You tug her back in, Ellie groans softly as your lips crash together again, her hands gripping tighter, wandering and exploring beneath your shirt, sometimes her hands traveling to graze your chest. She moves like she's trying to memorize you, like she's been waiting too long for this moment and doesn't want to waste a second of it.

Somewhere between kisses and touches she starts backing you up slowly, steady, until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and your stomach tightens.

Ellie pulls away slightly, breath ghosting over your lips, “tell me to stop.”

You obviously don't. Instead, you hook a finger into her belt loop and pull, letting yourself fall back onto the mattress, bringing her down with you. She lets out a breathless chuckle, bracing herself with her hands on either side of your head.

“Yeah?” she murmurs, voice teasing but still rough around the edges, like she's barely holding herself together.

You swallow, breath shaky, “yeah.”

And that's all she needs. She kisses you again, even deeper this time, slower, like she wants to savor it. The weight of her body presses into you, her thigh slotting between yours and pressing it softly against your core, the heat of her touch setting your skin ablaze.

She takes her time now, trailing her lips down your jaw, your neck and collarbone, her hands moving and groping deliberately, teasing your nipples over your shirt. You arch into her touch, finger gripping at her shirt, nails dragging lightly down her back.

Ellie exhales shakily, her lips barely brushing against your skin as she murmurs, “I knew you wanted me.”

You laugh, breathless and heady, tilting your head back as she marks your neck with her mouth, “shut up and prove it.”

And Ellie doesn't hesitate at all now, the second your words leave your mouth, she moves— lips tracing a slow path down your throat, hands now gripping your waist with just enough pressure to keep you grounded. The heat between you is unbearable, every inch of your body hyper aware of her. She really takes her time, dragging her fingers along the hem of your shirt but not directly touching, she's just teasing, testing. Like she's giving you again the chance to change your mind, like she wants you to stop her and you won't.

You tilt your head back, giving her more room to work, breath hitching as her lips graze over your collarbone. Your fingers curl into the fabric of her shirt, tugging her closer, needing more, she grins against your skin, clearly pleased, before shifting her weight just enough to pull your jacket off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

The room is quiet except for your breaths and soft moans, the faint crackling of a candle in the dresser, the muffled sound of the party still going outside. It feels like another world, distant, unimportant. Right now it's just you and her.

Ellie leans back to look at you, her green eyes searching your gaze, “you sure?”

And that almost made you roll your eyes, wasn't the whole situation obvious enough?

You exhale, heart pounding and voice low, “Ellie.”

That's all it takes. She kisses you again, her hands slip under your shirt, fingers warm against your skin as she softly gropes your tits, sending a shiver down your spine. You press into her touch, drinking in every sensation, every little sound she makes as your hands wander, lifting the hem of her shirt, feeling the taut muscle beneath. She groans when you drag your nails down her back and the sound sends a rush of heat directly between your thighs. A slow, aching need building, making your head spin.

The bed creaks slightly as she shifts, settling between your thighs like earlier, her weight pressing you deeper into the mattress. When her knee makes friction with your wet and aching pussy, you gasp, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her back down to you, lips meeting in a heated, breathless rhythm.

She moves like she wants to take her time, like she's been waiting for this moment as long as you have but neither of you have the patience for that.

Clothes come off in slow, teasing increments— shirts and pants slipping, fingers tracing new paths along the bare skin. You shudder at the warmth of her mouth trailing lower and lower, her lips leaving marks you know won't fade by morning. She's restless, enjoying every reaction, every gasp and sharp inhale.

When she finally, finally, presses closer, when her wet mouth meets your core through your panties, when her fingers tighten against your hip,it's nothing like fighting. There's no sharpness, no stubborn push-and-pull, there's no battle to win.

Just heat. Just the press of her body against yours, just the slow, aching rhythm her tongue sets, the way she whispers your name like it's the only thing she knows. Just her.

She pulled away her mouth for a moment, enjoying the sight of soaking wet panties, your own fluids mixed with her saliva. With her free hand she began to rub up and down your slit, the thin fabric of your underwear making the friction even more delicious.

The way she was edging is making you crazy, she finally decide to move the fabric aside, she iz quick to attach her warm mouth directly to your, already, sensitive clit as her two of her fingers make their way to the entrance of your needy hole. A gasp escapes your lips when you feel her calloused fingers teasing it at the same time she sucks and licks your clit. The humid sounds of her mouth making your arousal grow even more and she knows.

Her lips let your clit go for a moment, she speaks in a lustful, almost velvety, tone, “i prefer when you're like this and not fighting me back,” and you can't even fight or bite back, you just whimper in response and she grins before going back to work.

She finally stops teasing your entrance and she slips one finger inside you, slick dripping down to her wrist. She was quick to find your spongy spot and she presses exactly where you need and while a soft moans leaves your lips, she inserts another finger, feeling how your walls clench against her digits.

The feeling of her fingers pressing your g-spot as her lips latching onto your bud quickly turns to be too much, you don't even know where to grip, you feel like you need something to keep you grounded, your whines and whimpers music to her ears.

And you don't know how much time passes but the room is warm, your breath stutters as Ellie moves against you, her fingers shifting slightly inside you, every touch, every word, sending a wave of arousal. She's steady, controlled, like she's savoring every second, like she's engraving this moment in her memory.

You, on the other hand? You're unravelling, your hands grip at her naked back, your fingers pressing at her warm skin, desperate to keep her close, to pull her even closer. She responds with a quiet, breathy chuckle, but there's roughness to it, a slight tremor beneath her confidence that tells you she's just as lost in this as you are.

She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours, breaths mingling, eyes half-lidded as she watches you, “you're so fucking stubborn,” she murmurs, her voice rough and teasing.

You let out a shaky laugh, tilting your head back as her lips find your throat, “look who's talking.”

Ellie hums in agreement against your pulse, her grip tightening at your waist before she started to move again inside you, it was slow and measured but intentional, the way her fingers curl inside you pulls an embarrassing sound from you, but she swallows it with her mouth, kissing you deep, hungry. She doesn't let up, doesn't rush, just takes her time learning you, every sound, every shiver, every spot that makes your breath hitch. It's infuriating and intoxicating all at once, the way she knows exactly what she's doing.

And when she finally pushes you past that point, when you can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but feel her, when you're about to hit ecstasy— she murmurs your name against your skin, like it's a confession, like she's giving you something she hasn't given to anyone else.

When the tension finally shatters, your fingers curl against her back, scratching her, pulling her down into you as everything blurs, melts, breaks. She helps you to ride your orgasm, cooing you with sweet words and praises even if everything you can say it's just “hah-ahh” and moan.

The aftershocks leave you both breathless, tangled in each other, skin sticky with heat and effort. Neither of you move for a long moment, just lying there, letting the world settle back into place around you.

Ellie shifts first, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder before resting her head against your chest. Her fingers trace lazy forms over your side, absentminded.

You exhale, your body still trembling slightly, you lift a shaky hand to run through her hair, pushing damp strands from her forehead. Silence lingers between you, but it's not uncomfortable. It's new, uncertain, but not something you want to pull away from just yet.

The auburn haired girl lets out a slow breath, pressing a kiss to your marked collarbone before murmuring, “still think we don't work?”

You huff a quiet laugh, shifting beneath her, “i still think you talk too much.”

She grins, biting lightly at your shoulder in retaliation before settling back down, “yeah, sure,” a pause. Then quieter, more serious, “you're not gonna run, are you?”

Your stomach tightens at that, at the way she asks like she already knows the answer, like she's bracing herself. You hesitate, your fingers playing with her hair.

You don't know what this is, what it means, if it even means anything at all. Maybe you'll still fight on patrol, still push each other's buttons, still refuse to admit how deep this thing between you two really runs.

But right now, here, in the quiet warmth of this bed? You don't want to leave.

“No…” you finally murmur, feeling the way her body relaxes against yours at the answer, “not tonight.”

Ellie hums, pressing one last kiss to your skin before sighing, “good.”

And for now, that's enough.

[cherrycheolkat]

Hi kat!!!

Omg hmo ✋️

Big dick cheol + hate sex from bingo v.3 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

okie so i've heard you and your doppleganger lol so this is your version of this and they will get something else - ideally you both enjoy them

♡ kat

bingo square: bigdick!cheol + hate sex

pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader

summary: seungcheol wants to know if y/n really hates him

genre: college au, collegestudent!cheol, collegestudent!reader

word count: 0.7k

rating: 18+, mdni

warnings: explicit language, smut, fingering, mentioned penetrative sex

he groaned as he pulled out, “fuck, you’re gaping for me, baby,” he breathed roughly, his fingers replacing his dick, stretching you, literally just playing with your pussy. 

you smacked his hand away, “such an idiot,” you shighed. 

he was already running his hands along your inner thighs, biting his lip roughly, ���how do you have such a perfect cunt?” 

you rolled your eyes, “how did you end up with a decent cock?”

he laughed, “decent? is that all it is - just ‘decent’ when i’m making you scream for me?” he squeezed your thighs roughly - his touch felt too familiar. it was annoying how familiar he felt between your legs - how good he felt. 

you groaned and moved to sit up, but he was quicker, leaning down and pressing you back into the mattress, nipping roughly at your throat. your hands seemed to go to his hair without thought, tracing over his scalp, loving the things his lips were doing. 

“did i say we were finished?” he whispered, breath warm and sweet next to your ear. 

you whined softly, pulling his hair gently, “it’s like 3 am - you don’t want your roommates to know you’re in here fucking me, the queen bitch or whatever you call me now,” you whispered. 

“why not? i can tell them how i finally made you so dumb for my dick, you actually shut up for once,” he kissed your throat roughly, “it’s actually kind of a win for me,” he mumbled, licking gently over the places he had been rough with before, “my dick is so good, even you like it, miss-i-hate-seungcheol,” he nuzzled close, his lips teasing your collarbones.

your hands traced over his shoulders, loving how wide they were, how muscular. his body was one thing you had never complained about. and he was right - you did love his dick. 

you hummed softly, “maybe i don’t want them to know you’re fucking me, since it’s kind of embarassing,” you said, your fingernails pressing gently into his skin. 

he only nuzzled closer, “when are you going to stop being mean to me?”

his voice was so low and good and entirely too soft - you were still playing with his hair, smoothing the tangles you had made. you had been with him for hours. you had been fucking on and off since early that night - you had started in the living room and ended up in his bedroom like any time you came over. 

“when are you going to stop calling me a ‘bitch’?”

he pressed closer, “i don’t call you a ‘bitch’, anymore.”

you didn’t answer - maybe he didn’t call you a bitch anymore, but he had said plenty of shitty things about you freshman year. and a few good fucks didn’t exactly change your feelings about him. even if he was an especially good lay. 

you tried pushing him back again, “aren’t you dating someone?” you asked, voice sharp, meant to put some distance between you.

he didn’t budge - he only leaned up to look down at you - to trace his fingers gently along your cheek, and shake his head, “no, not since,” he stared at you and bit his lip, “not since it kept happening with you.”

even in the low light of his room, you could see the flush blooming across his cheeks. you wondered how long he had been toying with that thought - how long he had been thinking about telling you about that thought. 

your fingertips were still tracing against his skin - you knew you could shoot him down - tell him to ‘fuck off.’ you could really be mean to him if you wanted. but you were quiet.

which only served to make him brave, “stay the night?” he whispered, voice barely audible, “stay with me,” he was watching you, his pretty eyes taking you in, waiting for something.

you sighed, “cheol”— you started.

he immediately started to pull away - it was like you had slapped him. 

you were annoyed that he was actually going to get up - that he wasn’t even going to listen to you. you grabbed his arm roughly, “idiot,” you said sternly, “i was going to say ‘yes’.”

“oh,” he whispered. 

a/n: i love writing cheol - fr you have no idea how usually when i write a long fic it's cheol-centric - him and his boba eyes and his amazing eyelashes - he is def the definition of sexy 30s

♡ kat

if you want to submit a bingo ask the newest bingo is [here] but there are still open squares from the previous two [here] and nsfw only bingo is [here]

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♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here] & this is my [master list] if you want to read more

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 23 - desperation

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language, mentions of alcohol

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

"i thought it was you."

those words hung heavy in the air, like a slap to the face.

you blinked, trying to process what he had just said. “what?”

rafe exhaled shakily, his fingers twitching at his sides. “i- i was wasted, y/n. i could barely stand, top said i was mumbling your name all night and then when this girl came up to me, i thought-” his voice cracked, and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “i didn't see her face, she just came up to me and pulled me in. i thought no one else would do that but you. i thought it was you."

you stared at him, your breath caught in your throat. “that's bullshit.”

rafe shook his head quickly. “it’s not. i swear to you, y/n, i wasn’t thinking. i wasn’t there.” his voice was desperate now, eyes glossy with unshed tears. “i closed my eyes, and in my head, it was you. it was always you.”

you sucked in a sharp breath, something inside you fracturing. “do you have any idea what it felt like?” your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to keep going. “to wake up, check my phone, and see you with someone else? to have everyone sending me that picture? you made me feel like i was so easy to let go of. like everything between us meant nothing."

he flinched, his whole body tensing.

“because that’s what it felt like, rafe.” your voice finally broke, and the tears spilled over before you could stop them. “you made me feel like i was worth nothing."

his face crumbled. “you're not nothing y/n. i hate myself for making you feel that way. i hate that you think that's how i see you."

you wiped your cheeks, shaking your head. "then how do you see me rafe?"

"i see you as my everything," he took a step closer, "i see you as the most beautiful girl that walks in any room. i see you as the girl who can cheer anyone up in seconds. i see you as the person who makes me a better version of myself. i see me only with you."

you avoided his gaze, not allowing him to see that he was getting to you, “i needed you. i needed you to fight for me, to show me that i wasn’t crazy for loving you.”

rafe took another step closer, eyes pleading. “you were never crazy for loving me.”

“i needed you." you choked out.

his face twisted in anguish. “i’m so fucking sorry.” his voice cracked, a tear slipped down his cheek. “tell me what to do. tell me how to fix this. i'll do anything.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the ache in your chest. but then you heard it—his voice, barely above a whisper.

“y/n… please don’t shut me out.”

you swallowed hard, nails digging into your palms.

he hurt you. he broke you. he let you walk away and didn’t come after you.

but he was here now.

and for the first time in weeks, you weren’t alone in this pain.

your resolve cracked, just a little.

“i don’t know how to do this without you.” his hands twitched at his sides like he was dying to reach for you.

you let him.

his fingers grazed yours, hesitant, like he was scared you’d pull away.

you should have.

but the moment his skin met yours, a shiver ran through you, and every wall you had spent weeks building started to crumble.

rafe’s breath hitched, his grip tightening just slightly, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on. every touch more intimate than anything you'd experienced before.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered again, voice thick with emotion. “i’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if that’s what it takes.”

your throat burned, the weight of everything pressing down on you. “i don’t know if I can trust you again,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

he nodded, swallowing hard. “then let me earn it.”

you searched his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, you saw the rafe that was yours. the one who used to make you feel safe. the one who used to play the guitar and sing to you to help you sleep. the one who looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him breathing. the one you fell in love with.

you should walk away. you should tell him it’s too late.

but instead, you did the one thing you told yourself you wouldn’t do.

you let him pull you into his arms.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: sorry this one isn't much smau, but i worked really hard on the writing for this so i hope you guys don't mind

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[theosang3ls]

One step away

pairing: Theodore Nott x Muggleborn!Reader

summary: After your painful and unexpected break up with Theo, he comes in your dorm drunk making your life even messier than before.

warnings: angst, crying, mentions of break up, mentions of death, Theo is under the influence of alcohol.

author’s note: excuse any grammatical errors English isn’t my first language. Also it’s my first time posting something I’ve written so please thread lightly. Hope you’ll enjoy!

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You stood there as Theo, your ex, had drunkenly entered your dorm, leaving no room for you to argue. And you just, you stood there, unable to form a simple sentence, as simple as to tell him to leave. Because deep down you wanted him to be right here, to look at you the way he used to before he shattered your world completely with his hurtful words.

I don't love you anymore, it rang in your mind.

I don't love you anymore, that sentence repeated itself for a month now, leaving you paralyzed, unable to get going with your day, to even get out of bed. One thing you could not figure out was why did he barge in your room tonight? Why did he bang on your door repeatedly calling out for you?

Silence lingered in your room for what felt like an eternity, you stood idle, infront of your door, guarding it as if you wanted to make sure he wouldn't leave you, not like he left you in the astronomy tower only four weeks ago.

I don't love you anymore, the words invaded your mind, violated your every thought, your very being. Just before you could drown in your own thoughts Theo exclaimed loudly, "I missed you, cara" his intoxicated state was displayed clear as day, a sheepish smile tugging on his usual emotionless, expressionless face.

Cara that nickname ringed in your ears, your vision hazy, you couldn't move, you couldn't speak. You stood there, defeated. He used to call you that all the time, you loved it, loved how special it was, how he was the only one he could ever call you that, how that nickname made you think of him every single time you heard it.

Theo moved in your dorm with a painful familiarity, like you were still together, like he still loved you. "Come on darling" he slurred his words, the Italian accent rolling off his tongue with such ease, it was painful not to cave into his charming ways.  He opened his arms, waiting for you to accept his embrace and for the first time in what felt like forever, you moved, even though it was the slightest, you moved. You raised your eyebrow at him, confusion taking the best of you, why was he acting like nothing ever happened? Like he still loved you? You thought, tears threatening to fall off your eyes.

"What are you doing?" you managed to whisper, embarrassment, rage, fear, insecurity and confusion clawing at your chest all together as you watched him smile at you with ease. It was easy to love you, to call you baby names, to fool you with his sweet talk, because you would always come back. You both knew it, knew that every chance you got, you would run into his arms smiling. Not this time. This time he hurt you, shattered you, stole a piece of your soul that was irreplaceable, and you hated him for that.

“I just want to talk.” His voice was smooth, almost too casual, but the grin that stretched across his face made your stomach twist. That grin—wide, toothy, almost unfamiliar—was something you had rarely seen when you were together. And now, here it was, appearing as if he hadn’t left you in ruins.

A sharp, bitter chuckle escaped your lips, your breath shaky with restrained fury. “Talk?” You echoed, the word tasting like venom on your tongue. Anger burned through you, searing hotter than any lingering sorrow. “I begged you,” your voice wavered despite the iron grip you had on your emotions. “I begged you to talk to me when you left. I cried. I cried for a single explanation.” Your hands clenched into trembling fists at your sides, fingernails digging into your palms as you fought to keep yourself steady, to keep from shattering completely.

“And now you,” your breath hitched as you stepped even closer, mere inches from him now. The space between you crackled with unspoken words, unfinished pain. “Now you want to talk?” Your voice cracked, betraying you, breaking—just like he had broken you.

With a sudden, sharp motion, you threw your arms into the air, frustration spilling over. “You never wanted to talk!” The words hit the air like gunfire, loud, raw, uncontrollable. “So tell me, what changed?” A bitter smile curled on your lips, your voice laced with a mockery that barely masked the agony beneath.

Theo stood frozen, feet planted on the floor beside your bed. You could see it now—the alcohol-induced haze in his eyes clearing, the realization of your words cutting through whatever drunken courage had led him here.

A dry, humorless laugh bubbled up from your chest as you began pacing, hands trembling at your sides, emotions clawing against the walls you’d built to contain them. Your vision blurred, your unshed tears glistening like glass shards threatening to fall.

“I’ll tell you what happened.” The words were venomous, dripping with the anger you had swallowed for too long. “You’re lonely. You need a quick fuck, don’t you? Or maybe,” you turned to face him fully, your gaze burning into him, “you just haven’t found a good enough replacement for me yet.”

The air was knocked from Theo’s lungs. He didn’t speak, didn’t move. For a moment, the air stilled, silence lingered through the walls as your venomous words echoed in his mind.

It was like someone had slapped him across the face.

His expression, once so sure of itself, crumbled as he watched the tears you had fought so hard to hold back finally spill over, streaking your cheeks, soaking into your shirt. But you didn’t wipe them away. You stood there, tall, unwavering, as if they didn’t exist—because to you, they didn’t.

His heart shattered at your trembling voice, every tear that was falling broke him even more, he couldn't stand seeing you cry, let alone because of him. That was the sole reason he left you at the astronomy tower the night he broke up with you, he knew that if he stayed to see you break into a million pieces he would let his guard down, get you in his arm and tell you how everything was a lie. And it was, it was a lie, but if lying meant protecting you, the only light in his life, he was willing to lie for you, to you, a million times, to keep you safe from the darkness that had captured him whole.

I don't love you anymore, he remembers, and he wishes every night he couldn't, he wishes to have obliviated the both of you at that very moment, forget about each other's existence and what you had, but he was selfish, he couldn't forget the one thing in his life that kept him from collapsing, that kept him from losing his sanity completely. He always knew that his love was not enough for you, you were filled with love at the very brim of your being, you shone like a diamond and smiled at the hardest times. That smile kept him going. It was a reminder that life was worth living, because he could see the shine your eyes radiated every time you smiled. It was hope, that's what he told himself that shine was, hope that he was capable of changing, of loving, of being loved.

When his father learned about his relationship with you, a muggleborn, his words cut deep like a dagger, like they always do; "I’ll have to report this to the Dark Lord, you know what that means for the both of you, son. So do yourself a favour and end this madness with that mudblood” he threatened with an unemotional yet powerful statement as his eyes darkened. Hearing those words made Theo, for the first time since his childhood, collect tears at the corners of his eyes. As selfish as he might be, he couldn't bare living a life where your death was caused by your relationship. Theo knew his father wasn't kidding. He was an avid supporter of Voldemort, everything he said was like a gospel to him and if he said that death is the only thing that Muggleborns deserve, then that’s what he supported.

Heartbroken he had asked you to meet him at the astronomy tower. Never have you expected him to tell you that he doesn't love you anymore, to tell you he needs to break up with you.

Theo wanted to protect you from the darkness he had to live through, but what he did was push you into the abyss of your own darkness, one that no one, not even him, knew about. His words cut deep like a dagger, they left you paralyzed, wounded for life. Eating was pointless, attending classes lead to nowhere, talking to your friends felt like a chore, so you cut everyone, everything off. And slowly, you lost yourself into the darkest pit of your soul,  the place where your love for Theo was once placed, and now—that very piece—he carries it into his hands after violently taking it away from you.

“I’m sorry” his voice barely a whisper, you didn’t dare to look at him, didn’t want to, but if you, for one second turned to see his gaze you would be able to see the regret, the pain visible in his eyes.

Instead you let a mocking chuckle, “Oh now you’re sorry?” you started, amused at his apology, “you didn’t seem so sorry when you left me all alone in the astronomy tower! Crying all by myself!” you yelled, tears streaming down your face. “I really wanted to give this —us— a chance, I thought that it could work out” another humourless chuckle escaped your lips, “always an optimistic fool” you mumbled loud enough for Theo to hear you. “You never tried for us! You made me feel worthless at times, disgusting even, and you didn’t even notice Theo! You didn’t even notice!” it was the first time in a month he heard his name come out of your lips, but this time it wasn’t full of love and affection but full of rage and disgust, it was like for the first he could sense the damage he did to you and he hated himself more than ever for that.

“You always kept your distance” you took a shaky breath, collecting your emotions that spilled away from your soul every time you talked, “I could see it, I could see it in the way you would school your expression every time I made a joke, like smiling was fatal,” his heart broke at your words, every single one twisting the dagger deeper in his heart, “You avoided me at times like I was contagious, something you were embarrassed about. You never looked me in the eyes for more than a few seconds.” your lips quivered as you frantically moved your eyes around the room as if you were searching for the courage to face him somewhere in your belongings. Every single word that you mouthed was raw, painfully raw, the slight vibrato in your voice, the way you choked up a sob every time you finished a sentence, it made him want to pull you into his arms and kiss your tears away, but he didn’t, it wasn’t his place anymore and that’s what made him sick to his stomach, that you weren’t his anymore, that he is the reason you’re trembling in agony.

“You were always one step away from me, to understand you, to love you, the real you, you were always too far away from me to see you for who you really are. However much you tried to make it seem like this is the real you, I always knew there was something else, something raw and beautiful underneath this emotionless and reserved exterior. I knew it every time you let your guard down for one second too long and you let your teeth shine in the sunlight while smiling, every time you would hold my hand so gently yet so firmly like I was the most important thing in your life, every time you kissed me in a way I only read in books about.” you took a sharp breath, this was your chance to let everything out, you wanted to do nothing more than scream at his face and show him how you felt, a fragment of it at least.

“You made me believe” you caught Theo’s gaze in yours, you couldn’t seem to care about the tears that accumulated in his eyes, your eyes overflowed with rage-full tears. “You made me believe you loved me. But now I know, I know you never did, because tell me Theo, who stops loving someone like you did? One day you’re proclaiming how much you love me in between kisses and the next you don’t love me anymore? You never loved me.” the last sentence came out nearly as a whisper, a realisation you had made in the past but stating it out loud made you understand the weight of those words. He never loved you. That was the only truth. The hurt from your own words overpowered your anger. New tears brimmed your eyes followed by heavy sobs that echoed through the stoned walls and into Theo’s ears.

He stood idle as your sobs grew louder his ears rang, his thoughts hazy just like his vision, he felt like the ground beneath him had collapsed.

You never loved me, those words nearly made his knees buckle, his hands to come in contact with his head inside of which so many thoughts sprinted around, unable to shut them down, it felt hard to breathe.

And into the frustration and desperation his mouth moved before his mind could comprehend the words coming out of it, “I’ll always love you” a whisper, so quiet that if for that moment your sobs hadn’t grown silent you would have never heard it.

And that’s when you broke, completely broke, “no” you shook your head denying the words you just heard, enough of this madness.

“You can’t do this Theo. Leave.” and a small part of you wanted Theo to protest against your wishes, disregard what you asked him to do and explain what exactly I will always love you was suppose to mean, but he did what you asked him to, lowered his head and walked out of your dorm quickly.

You stood there, staring at the door long after it had closed behind him, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the silence of the room. A part of you wanted to chase after him, to call his name and demand the answers he left unspoken. But your feet stayed rooted in place, hands trembling as you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Theo had always been stubborn, always fought for the things he wanted. And yet, this time, he had listened. He had left.

And somehow, that hurt more than anything.

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A/N: I kind of broke my own heart writing this lol. If it wasn’t for @illbegottenfaith I would’ve never posted this, thank you so much girl for your support!💕

Hope you liked this!

Let me know your thoughts on it💌

¡Reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

…Until next time lovelies💋

[eosofspades]

i have to do everything myself around here (/hj)

analyzing what it is about these little guys that makes them so good. as a character designer, visual artist, obsessive art analysist, and someone who just happens to be insane about ghosts in particular, i feel i have some authority to try my hand at the matter.

(under read more because this is a long one. with pictures!)

my claim is: multiple factors combined make the Peak Video Game Companion Form, and that these factors are...

SMALL. perfect size for holding, perfect size for tucking into your hood and snuggling, also makes you more likely to find them cute and feel protective over them because they are so small and vulnerable. (even spiky or extra-protective shells don't really fully dissuade this because the size of them remains the same)

NO limbs. ghosts are VERY expressive but because they lack hands and limbs they have to rely entirely on full-body movement & voice to convey this, which actually makes their gestures seem more exaggerated & obvious. (and of course the voice actors are just always knocking it out of the park; this is absolutely a big part of it) (nolan north especially like ghost's voice is CRAZY emotionally versatile)

and yet! despite their expressiveness! - NO features. an incredibly bold move by the designers to make the most lovable character & your full-time companion a guy with no features except one (1) IMPLIED eye. it's not even a real eye; it's a little image OF a ghost on a screen. this goes back to the previous point; that they're forced to be overly-expressive because they have no features like a mouth or eyebrows to convey something like a grin or scowl. (this ALSO creates a feeling of affection in the player, i think, because when they ARE expressing themselves it's always cute - again in large part because of how small they are & that their ONE feature is a LARGE eye (compared to the rest of their body). when they're happy they twirl their whole shell around, a particular favorite of mine is when ghost is angry and lowers his whole shell so that his eye is half-covered in such a manner it LOOKS like he's glaring. that's absolutely hilarious & adorable.)

entirely digital! i love that they're robots and i honestly think some of the appeal of them would be lost if they were creatures, like, a race of alien or something instead of a type of small robot. i think that what makes this such a good feature is that it creates a sort of distance in one way between the player and the ghost - we're not the same Thing, this is a robot and not a person, and so when they BEHAVE like a person (emotional! expressive! full of love and whimsy!!) it kind of bolsters the affection you have for them because it's New and unique; not, like, a pre-existing thing (like well yeah naturally they've got instincts and emotions and subjective reactions, they're an animal/person - vs., OH, they've got instincts and emotions and subjective reactions because even though they're a robot, they're still complex like a person!!)

also i can't not mention the overall shape language & design. there is an absolutely crazy amount of stuff going on in a design so simple. the symmetry is great, for starters - sometimes symmetry CAN be used to create unease by feeling artificial/unnatural, but in this case, the symmetry of the design connotates something easily-understood, reliable, safe, etc that puts us at ease. (this is also in correlation with the previous endearing factors such as size & expressiveness.)

continuing this, the shapes. the ghost is so satisfying to look at because it's made of shapes we find visually comforting & reliable - even when those shapes aren't actually there!

let me ask you this: the shell fins are triangular, right? nope! very few ACTUAL triangles on this guy! but the body is segmented in a way that makes it appear so. (this goes into actual shape language in the way our brains read it - we like odd numbers, because it feels more natural than even-ness and symmetry and perfect balance. part of the reason i think the ghost's symmetry is so appealing is because it is paired with these more "natural" shapes. (the fins LOOK like triangles, and they're actually 5-sided.) here, i even made diagrams:

also included in this one is the natural positioning. the design would be a little more disconcerting if the fins were positioned in an x instead of a +, and they almost are from the side, BUT even from the side, the middle fins still center a + shape to break it up.

last little detail regarding actual literal design is color. this one isn't AS big of a deal, especially because the shells are SO customizable, but i think it's worth mentioning that they look bright and shiny and smooth, BUT the particular white color of the shell is a scuffed, warm white, which again feels more natural and inviting. pairing it with the brownish-orange freckle (did you know the top and bottom tips of the shell are canonically called freckles??) makes it feel natural and familiar.

i also think it's worth looking at what is NOT a good ghost example. i found these pieces of concept art, including ghosts with their guardians, and what i believe is an early concept of the spider.

oh i am so glad these remained concept art. aren't you so glad that these remained concept art.

don't get me wrong, this is absolutely a viable character design, but FOR ghosts - for your lifelong platonic soulmate in the face of encroaching darkness?? for your silly sweet little guy??? absolutely not NEARLY as good as what we've been blessed with now. two eyes and a little mouth looking thing?? WRONG!! perfectly orbular shape?? WRONG!! that's not my guy!! (the perfectly round shells you can customize with ARE fine because you already KNOW the generalist design, and the one big eye stays the same.) and from this we can glean that the fins ARE important because they SUBSTITUTE as limbs, but this little circle body is just automatically less visually endearing and immediately seems like it would be less expressive. much to learn!)

SO. what now.

the main goal of me writing this whole thing is mostly to figure out what the guidelines here are so they can be adapted to other character designs - i have a similar concept to a ghost in an original project i'm working on, but invoking the same kind of loveability in them has proven insanely difficult. and of course, the context IS extremely relevant - a huge part of why we love ghosts so much IS dependent on the story, their role as a player companion, the significance of their connection to the player/player character (platonic soulmateism my beloved), and how they complement and contrast the setting of destiny. (part of the reason their symmetry and mechanical-ity(?) is so comforting because the rest of the world, especially the place where you first wake up, is so chaotic, broken-down & overgrown.)

also a quick but significant side note is that the fins are so much better than the ghost being small and round like a servitor (as the concept art seems to suggest) because it ALSO distances them from the traveler; despite being of it, they're not the same thing; they're their own beings who don't know everything it knows or even understand what exactly its history is. that round core and the white color draws that connection to the traveler, but the shapes and fins make them clearly their own things.

also, i genuinely think the name "ghost" is a part of this. categorically not what a ghost IS, but using such a simple word matches their vibe (& it feels white and cool and clean), and the word has an ethereal quality to it - i'd go so far as to say the connotation of it is sort of a longing or distance, invoking a kind of loss, which just ties everything about their lore together. (i LOVE when a simple, seemingly out-of-place word is used for things like this. phenomenal trope.)

so, we've got size, expressiveness, lack of limbs/features, and robotness. we got shape language and a very specific balance between artificial and natural. we've got name connotation. was this helpful? i don't know. if i had to list what to take AWAY from these categories to recreate the Ghost Effect, i would say...

size: keep them small. this one is not malleable, this is an integral part of the design.

expressiveness: over-expression GOOD, but works best when paired with a body/form that lacks things to express with (like features)

robotness: ???? maybe i'm mistaken and you could pull this off with a creature!! it kind of depends on the setting. if you wanted to try something like this in high fantasy instead of scifi, i would say the throughline should be something that you wouldn't expect to behave like a human; or something you would expect to be perfectly logical/calculated/efficient, so that that humanity & emotionality & personality really hits.

shape language: what is both distinct enough to clearly be its own thing, with shapes and patterns (symmetry counts as a pattern) that we find comforting but not overly-familiar? (also "distinct enough to be its own thing" is just a good rule of thumb for creature design in general - the silhouette should be clearly identifiable for maximum effect!)

artificial and natural: this ties into the previous item. unique & distinct but with some kind of sense of familiarity maintained

name: i think i've found my thesis, honestly, because this is, again, what is FAMILIAR but unique? what does it connotate? i think simplicity is an integral aspect of this, also.

THESIS/TL;DR/CONCLUSION: the Ghost's design is perfect because it is the ideal blend of something that is unique and distinct (and endearing) while also centering elements that are familiar to us in a comforting way.

thank you for coming to my TED talk remember to kiss your ghost

what is it abt ghosts that gives them the best character design ever, i'm not even talking about the wild customizable shells or anything i mean like the base design, what IS it that makes it so lovable. it's something to do with the simplicity and symmetry, but also they're so expressive and adorable that even though they're entirely robotic they seem so human and endearing. how does one recreate this effect or at least clearly outline how to achieve such a thing

[shatcey]

Lover Contract (Victor)

I will not make summary… there is not much plot in this story. They came to this club (for lovers only), noticed the guy they needed to check out, and… look around a bit. That's all. But… Kate and Victor had interesting (even philosophical) thoughts, and I would like to reflect on them…

But before that… Victor spoils us a lot with his gentle expression at this event. And… because of that, it took me longer than usual to read it… I just couldn't help but stare at him..

(smiles tenderly) He's so cute…

The post turned out to be quite big. Like like my theory post… very big. I am surprised myself. But I mentioned that I liked this event, even though it didn't have much plot, it contained a lot of interesting thoughts and made me think. More than usual… if that even possible.

They came to this club to confirm that one of the Prime Council member is having an affair. And they noticed him right away… Victor was contemplating…

Despite the fact that he seems to be a person who sees everything only in white and black… bad or good… He doesn't divide people based on that. In his eyes, they are all the same. Friends or foes… they all are just people. The only reason he decided he had to use this information against the guy… because he needs to protect Crown. If he didn't have to, what would he decide? I wondering…

And after that, they noticed another acquaintance… The guy who is famous for being a faithful husband and even making speeches about it… But it turned out that he has a mistress.

Victor looks extremely angry here. That's not the right word… he looks at the guy with disdain. The fact that someone is cheating annoys him, as if for some reason it is very personal to him. Had someone betrayed him? Had someone betrayed his loved ones?

At the very end of the main part of the story… Kate… looking at all these unfaithful spouses thinking out loud…

After everything she'd seen… unsurprisingly, she began to doubt…

He's fascinated by love in general. I have a feeling it has something to do with his curse… Freedom and love… All fairy tales are about at least one of these concepts, but they're usually about protoganist, not antoganist. Was there antagonist somewhere who did bad things for love??? I… don't remember… If ANY love is "fascinating"… As Ally said in the Chocolate event, "everything is fair in love and war." It must be somehow related… No, I still can't catch that thought…

A long sentence on the middle screenshot… can be not entirely correct. I found a very interesting dictionary. It's quite easy to split a sentence into words. BUT… most languages have a very strict order of words in a sentence. And if you know this order, you can easily understand that the part of the speech every word should be. But… there are no special restrictions in my native language… as you may have noticed, I'm constantly playing with words.So, out of habit, I could interpret these words as I see fit. Even adjust it to my thoughts. There was a question in the original text, but it was in the middle. But to make it sound more logical, I changed the sentence to this.

And this wording of his makes me think that he is not a human. He talks about them as if he is just an observer… and has nothing to do with them…

And here we go… What he said earlier was… just a fact, and he doesn't judge others, this it their life. But personally he doesn't like cheating. Nice to know.

Bitter ending

After a short walk (I don't see the point in telling you what happened there, it's not relevant) they return back to the main hall. Kate is thirsty (I wonder why), Vivi notices this and orders drinks.

Well, he's a second Gilly-bee. He probably knows more about you than you know yourself…

I played with the words again, but it seems more correct than what the mechanical translation suggested to me. So… she feels like he's far away… for many reasons: age, experience, knowledge, status… But he takes it literally. The distance. We learned from the LINE campaign that he has been looking out for her from a DISTANCE for a very long time. And… he feels lonely because even though he is with her right now, she still thinks he is far away.

If I had read this BEFORE the LINE campaign, perhaps I would have interpreted these words as his usual sad thoughts about loneliness. But now everything is completely different. And in the next part, he literally says it. He took her hand and told her that he was here with her. And he's "just like her." It's a very peculiar wording. I'm not going to talk about it now. I'm more happy about the next part. He never considered himself free.

He FINALLY admitted it. Where it was… in one of my theory posts… I was talking about freedom… here. It was pretty obvious, but Vivi had never confirmed it before… But here… he really became more open, more… naked, as he said in the epilogue… It was as if he no longer had the desire to remain an observer with her… It feels like we're already in the middle of his route. I'll explain why I think so later.

Kate had an interesting thought…

It makes me think about that damn…. fish… again… I know she's not a fish, she's kind of humanoid. Thatever! The mermaid is not the villain in this story… She's a victim. A victim of betrayal. She suffers from the moment she fell in love until the very end. But… It seems that everything fits too well into the story… And the fact that he takes care of her from a distance, and the fact that he used to be free, but no anymore… It's just too similar. Annoying so. Calm down, girl, it's too early to riled up. But if his curse is that damn fish, I'll scream!

And the fact that Kate either thinks of him that way, or already knows about it… It seems that this is already his route.

Premium ending

We talked for a while on the balcony. After Kate said that she now considers love to be freer than she originally thought… Victor suddenly noticed.

IT'S SO CLOSE!!! But not quite. Oh, what a shame! If you don't understand what I'm implying, I've written about it here.

And after Kate asks, "What kind of love is Victor looking for?"

I don't need Harrison to confirm this, it's obvious that he's lying. Well… he wasn't lying, but he wasn't completely honest either. Yes, he's obsessed with taking care of everyone, but… It's more like… a habit. I don't know… or… unfulfilled desire… Projection, maybe?… No one cared about him, so he's doing this for others?........

Kate was more honest when Vivi asked her the same question. She said that despite the fact she had seen many very strange expressions of love today… and she began to understand the difficulties associated with spending her life with one person, but…

It's a very sweet dream… And look at him… he fully shares her dream. But he decided to NOT said it out loud and pretend to be a clown again. Sad…

Don't talk like it's not going to be you or… to be completely honest… already you.

In the epilogue, she thought that she wants Vivi to love her, and the way her heart stops all the time is a great hint of this as well. SO… we are already in the middle of his route. BUT it hasn't been released yet. The paradox.

I will only mention this from the epilogue…

Now I'm curious to see…

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🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

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[liliasenbyhusband]

Play stupid games

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Joanne x reader (company, f!Bobbie)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI!!!, smutty thoughts but no actual smut, drinking, mentions of smoking and cigarettes, that’s it I think??

Tags: longing, established friendship between reader, Joanne, a bit more angsty than the other chapter, loneliness, drinking, hangover, flirting

Summary: Joanne comes home after Bobbie’s party to an empty apartment and has a hard time dealing with the loneliness that accompanies that.

Notes: Honestly, I’m not entirely sure how I feel about this chapter. I have very mixed emotions about it. I hope you guys like it though. I’m hoping to be able to post the next chapter next weekend, but I can’t make any promises cause uni is really taking it out of me atm. As always, English isn’t my first language so please excuse any mistakes.

Words: ~3.7k

Chapter 1

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Chapter 2: Bobbie’s best friend

Joanne sighed as she entered her empty apartment, if she hadn’t been so hellbent on winning that stupid argument with Bobbie then she could have asked you to join her for a nightcap… would it still be considered a nightcap at 4 am in the morning..? She shrugged and decided to pour herself a glass of whiskey. She really did despise coming home to an empty apartment, especially when she didn’t get to properly say goodbye to you.

She had no one to blame but herself really. She could have easily let Bobbie win the argument and then asked you to go with her to her apartment. Or she could have at least taken a proper break from arguing to take her time to say goodbye to you. But at the time winning their little fight had been more important so now she had to deal with the emptiness that had settled into her heart, an all too familiar feeling whenever you weren’t around. Joanne hated a lot of things, but missing you might just be one of the things she hated the most.

She groaned at her own patheticness, she had just seen you, how was she already craving your company again? She blamed the alcohol for her neediness and the persistent ache that seemed insistent on haunting her whenever she thought about you for too long. She also decided to ignore the wet patch that had formed in her underwear, the result of being a little too flirty with you and her inability to stop her horny thoughts from taking over whenever you were around.

Joanne threw herself on her couch after taking off her shoes and began sipping her whiskey. She knew it was a bad idea to drink even more, but it was the only thing she could think to do to fight the sadness that had woven itself into every fiber of her being.

Her faulty plan to distract herself with more alcohol had been doomed from the start and it completely backfired when she failed to find something else to think of or keep herself busy with. The thoughts she had tried to repress took over, alcohol tended to have that effect on her… and yet she never learned from her past mistakes and continued to drink whenever her heart felt sad or empty. So, unable to do anything to stop it, she groaned as the memories and feelings from this turbulent past year and a half began to plague her.

Joanne had never entertained the thought of liking women.. let alone the idea that she might not like men. She had blamed the fact that her marriages never worked out on the fact that she had never met a man that could handle her or meet her high standards. Joanne had never questioned it… not until her third marriage had ended and she once again felt nothing but relief to be rid of another husband.

Surely she should have been more upset at losing her third husband, at another broken marriage… sure Larry hadn’t been perfect but he had been kind and gentle and patient. So why was she so happy to be rid of him? And that’s when it hit her, him being so patient and gentle had been the problem. He had started getting too close, he knew her too well and he was too kind, wanted to be intimate too much and loved her too much. Whenever she pulled away, he took a step closer and it was insufferable, so she had ended things.

With every husband she had found flaws, flaws that were too great to look past, that she could not stand, that irritated her beyond comprehension. And during every marriage she had made it impossible for the relationship to bloom and thrive, always finding new ways to pull back or taunt her spouse. It had started to make her question things, even during her marriage with Larry.

And then, when the expected hurt at losing someone, who so clearly loved her, didn’t follow, after she felt nothing but relief and guilt, she had started to really look at herself and her previous marriages. Of course with the help of some a lot of alcohol, because trying to do any introspection sober was a fate worse than death.

Joanne realised she had never felt attracted to her husbands… in fact she barely even tolerated most of them.. she couldn’t even remember why she had married them, other than it had been expected of her so she’d done it.

In the midst of this personal journey, Bobbie had introduced her new best friend to the group. When Bobbie had announced that she’d be bringing you to their next gathering, because she wanted everyone to meet you, Joanne had been skeptical of adding another person to their already big and chaotic friend group. She also wasn’t sure if she had the emotional strength to deal with meeting someone new right now. But it had seemed important to Bobbie, and whether she admitted it or not, she cared for her.. so she’d begrudgingly agreed to be there for the next gathering and had promised to be nice to you.

A decision she was now incredibly grateful for. When first meeting you she had started jokingly flirting with you, just like she did with most women she met for the first time, she found it usually eased the tension and awkwardness. Although most women never really matched her energy, usually just rolling their eyes or laughing at Joanne’s remarks. But then you came and you matched every dirty remark with an even filthier one and you had even managed to fluster her every once in a while, a feat only a very few people could claim to have accomplished. Meeting you had been like finally feeling a cool breeze after being trapped in a hot room for days on end.

And then she got to know you better, and you were so clearly and unapologetically yourself, she had to admit she admired it. You were no longer just a fun person to throw filthy comments at, but you had actually stirred something deep within her. She found herself feeling feelings she thought people had been lying about existing, she certainly never felt these butterflies around any of her husbands… when she began to truly think about it, the only time she had ever felt this giddy around anyone was during her college days when she had spent most of her time hanging out with her closest friend.

And that’s how all the puzzle pieces finally fell into place.. on a random Friday night at Bobbie’s, surrounded by her friends and while talking to you. Suddenly everything made sense. Why she had despised every single one of her husbands, how they had never been able to match her high standards, why she had felt so betrayed when her closest friend had gotten a boyfriend, and why she suddenly felt butterflies whenever you touched her. She was a lesbian… it was a crushing realization, accompanied by a wave of many intense emotions, both good and bad.

Joanne had never been more grateful for her ability to hide her emotions behind a well crafted mask and a strongly built wall than she had been that random Friday night. She had somehow managed to hold everything together till she got to her apartment, where she let the wave of emotions drown her completely while reaching for her familiar bottle of vodka.

The journey to acceptance had been a long and arduous one, especially since she refused to tell anyone about what she was going through, not out of a fear of not being accepted, but simply because she refused to seem weak. She had spent years creating this persona and she would be damned before ever showing her real self to these people.

The fact that she had developed a bit of a crush on you hadn’t helped this predicament either… she had only known you for a couple of months and hung out with you outside of the friend group twice and yet she had somehow managed to make this harder on herself than it already was.

And yet, somehow, she managed to slowly but surely start accepting this part of herself and her life had started to make a whole lot more sense now. She would never say it out loud, but opening up to you, even just a little, had helped her journey immensely and even though she hadn’t exactly come out to you, she still felt like you somehow knew, like you could see through her and, unlike with Larry, the thought brought her ease and comfort.

Her phone vibrating brought her out of her thoughts, as she checked who had messaged her, she noticed the time: 6 am. Had she really been lost in thought that long..? She sighed and downed the rest of her whiskey before reading the message Bobbie had sent her. It was a very poorly written apology, wanting to make sure Joanne hadn’t been angry with her after their little quarrel.

Bobbie was very clearly drunk, she always got anxious and began to overthink everything when she was drunk and alone. Joanne rolled her eyes and sighed but there was no real annoyance behind it, she cared a lot about Bobbie, and deep down she understood her more than she’d ever admit. She saw a great deal of herself in the other woman. She typed out a quick message, full of mistakes, reassuring Bobbie that they were okay and that she wasn’t upset about the argument. Quite frankly she couldn’t even remember what the argument had been about… the only thing she could remember was that it had seemed important to win it… but then again, to Joanne, winning any argument at all was always important

When she exited their chat, she saw your name right under Bobbie’s, which is when she remembered that she hadn’t sent you a text, to tell you that she had gotten home safe, yet. You and Joanne usually texted each other immediately after getting home…she couldn’t exactly remember when or why you had started doing it, but it was nice nonetheless. It made her feel like someone cared about her and it was always nice to know that you’d gotten home safe.

She had completely forgotten to text you this time though, too absorbed in her own thoughts to remember to let you know she’d made it to her apartment in one piece… so she quickly sent you a message, letting you know she had gotten home safely. In her drunken haste to reply to you, she had struggled to write a coherent message, the singular sentence containing more spelling mistakes than words spelled correctly, but she knew you wouldn’t care.. as long as you knew she got home safe.

Joanne groaned as she felt that familiar ache once again begin to settle into her heart upon seeing your name on her screen. Her little crush, attraction and fascination with you had turned into something much deeper these past months. She had tried to push it down, bottle it up, forget about it, but her feelings always found a way back to the forefront of her mind. Luckily for her, you seemed to be none the wiser, the years of perfecting the walls she had built around her heart had paid off.

Sometimes she dreamed about telling you how she felt or confessing to you that she was a lesbian, just so she could say it out loud to someone. And who better to tell than the only person she felt comfortable opening up to, even just a little? Besides she was quite sure you knew already or at least suspected something.

But then the shame and embarrassment kicked in.. how on Earth had it taken her this long to find out she liked women? She knew you wouldn’t judge her but… well maybe you should. She had gone through life proclaiming to know it all, telling anyone who would listen how she had life completely figured out and yet… she didn’t even discover this essential part of herself until fairly recently. Not only had it taken her multiple decades to figure it out, but it had also taken her three whole divorces… no she was too proud to ever admit this to anyone, even you. Accepting herself was one thing, having to deal with the consequences of her own actions was something entirely different. And what was the point, anyway? It was too late, she was too old… and there was no way you’d be interested in her.

“There is still time.”

She whispered into the cold air of her living room, it sounded desperate, like she was trying to convince herself of a lie. It was supposed to be comforting, a reminder that it wasn’t too late, that she could still explore this side of herself…there was still time. Except it didn’t feel comforting, instead it felt like a curse, there is still time.. there is always time… and nothing to fill it with, no dreams to be chased, no goals to be accomplished, no wishes to be fulfilled, no work to be completed… just time.. an endless stretch of time that she couldn’t seem to assign any meaning to. She stared at her now empty glass as the reality of having a future with no goals she wished to chase, settled into her once again.

No, you would never be into her, you needed someone ambitious, someone who could help you grow in life and would encourage you to follow your dreams… not a drunk old broad who spent her days doing nothing but complaining and drinking.

Joanne groaned as she got up from the couch, she really hated coming home to an empty apartment, her thoughts seemed to never stop when she was alone. With great difficulty she made her way over to her bed. She couldn’t be bothered to change out of today's clothes, so she just let herself fall into her bed. She’d regret all of this tomorrow morning.. or well, more accurately, later today.. but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

Thanks to the alcohol, she managed to fall asleep rather quickly, but it didn’t provide her any solace. You haunted her dreams with your understanding eyes, witty remarks and comforting touches.

Joanne woke up feeling worse than she did when she had gone to bed. Not only did she have a massive hangover but having dreamt of you laying beside her and then waking up in an empty bed, in the same clothes she had worn yesterday, smelling of alcohol and cigarettes, had hit her harder than she would ever admit.

She slowly got out of bed, opting to take a cold shower before trying to do anything, needing to get rid of this smell and hoping to get rid of some of the brain fog.

When Joanne got out of the shower, she was entirely unaware of what part of the day it was, she had no clue how long she had slept, all she knew was that she needed a cigarette, an aspirin and something to eat… although her nausea did not agree with that last part.

She threw on the comfiest pair of pants she owned and one of her favourite blouses. As she was about to search for her phone, to try and figure how late it was, a knock disturbed the silence that hung in her apartment. A confused frown made its way onto her face, she was quite sure she hadn’t made any plans today, anticipating that she would be too hungover to follow through on any of them.

She made her way over to her door nonetheless, not bothering to check what she looked like. She would tell whoever was on the other side of that door they could fuck off anyway. She was not in the mood for any company.

The second Joanne opened the door she regretted not putting on her make-up or checking herself in the mirror. As her eyes landed on your smiling form, a bit of self consciousness began to creep its way into her mind.

Her confusion must have been clear on her face because you quickly began to explain yourself, holding up two cups of coffee and a bag that she assumed had some sort of food in it. You were clearly a little nervous as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

“Judging by the text you sent early this morning, I figured you might have a rough morning or, more accurately, afternoon. So I reckoned why not surprise you with your favourite coffee and some breakfast.. I thought you might need it. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

Joanne shook her head and softly reassured you that she had been awake already, electing to leave out that she had only been awake for approximately half an hour. She couldn’t stop the small smile from making its way onto her face, you were so thoughtful. She mentally cursed herself as she felt her heart flutter at your kind gesture.

She tried to act like her self assured self while letting you in, but she suddenly was very aware of the state she had left her apartment in after getting back home. Her empty glass was still sat on top of the living room table, her coat had been thrown on the first chair she had seen and her shoes were carelessly discarded in front of the couch. On top of that you had never seen her without make-up. The self consciousness that had already been creeping its way into her mind now doubled in intensity.

Joanne didn’t miss the worried look you sent her way, you must have picked up on her uneasiness. She quickly sent you a reassuring smile, muttering something about a hangover as she slipped her confident mask back on, before taking the coffee you had handed her.

“So what did you bring me for breakfast? Besides you of course?”

Joanne teased, her voice light while her lips twitched into a smirk. She found these type of teasing remarks usually helped her slip back into the persona she had created for herself. And trying to fluster you was also an added bonus.

She watched as you tried to hide the faintest blush by taking a sip from your coffee. She had noticed how you got flustered more often and easier lately, she sometimes wondered what had suddenly changed for you to suddenly become more shy. It reminded her of the conversation she had overheard between you and Bobbie yesterday. Maybe Bobbie was implying that it had been too long since you had gotten laid? Could that be part of the reason why you had gotten so easy to fluster? Maybe Bobbie had offered to introduce you to someone and then told you to take action, to not let her offer go to waste… it certainly would make sense.

That thought left her with a feeling she hadn’t felt in ages, jealousy. She internally groaned at her own stupidity. She had absolutely no right to be jealous, besides she didn’t even know if there was anything to be jealous of. She realised she might not know you as well as she thought she did. You had never talked much about your love life, at least not to Joanne… Bobbie seemed to know more though… she definitely knew something that Joanne didn’t.

The jealousy that she had felt earlier only got worse at that. This wasn’t her thoughts coming up with a hypothetical scenario.. this was reality…you trusted Bobbie more than her… maybe even liked her more than her. Joanne took a sip from her coffee, trying to stop the lump that had threatened to form in her throat.

She silently scolded herself, you were Bobbie’s best friend, it made complete sense for you to trust her more, share more secrets with her, share parts of your life that you didn’t with Joanne.

Her racing thoughts came to a halt when you spoke up to answer her question, a question she had completely forgotten she had asked in the first place.

“Pastries from that cute little bakery on the corner. If you still have an appetite after them, you can have your dessert.”

Your voice sounded light and playful and the wink you sent her way had a much bigger effect on her than it should have. She was quite sure she wouldn’t be able to get the image of eating you out on her couch out of her head for the rest of the day.

When you handed her the bag with pastries those filthy thoughts were replaced by a much warmer, softer feeling. She only now realised you had gone to her favourite bakery and as she opened the bag, she saw that you had not only gone to her favourite bakery, but you had also gotten her favourite pastries.

Joanne had mentioned that bakery and her favourite pastries once or twice and couldn’t believe you had remembered it. Any sadness that had previously tainted her heart was replaced by the comforting feeling that accompanied the knowledge that you cared enough about her to remember these little things.

A genuine and heartfelt “thank you” slipped from her lips as she looked into your eyes, the gratitude clearly displayed in her own.

The rest of the afternoon was spent teasing one another, talking about everything and nothing, as the sound of laughter filled the air. The contrast with earlier that day could not have been bigger. The sadness and coldness that had polluted the air of the living room mere hours earlier, had now been replaced with a warmth that could only come from time spent with you, watching you blush and hearing you laugh at Joanne’s dirty jokes.

The warmth still lingered even after you had begrudgingly left, reminders of your presence lingering in her kitchen and living room. Your discarded coffee cup on the living room table and the bag, with still half a pastry in it, laid on the kitchen counter. The emptiness that had taken hold of Joanne’s heart earlier had now been filled with a feeling only you could bring out in her, she didn’t have a name for it, not yet, but for once she didn’t care that she didn’t know. She just wanted to bask in this feeling for a little while longer, before the ache of missing you inevitably took hold of her once again.

[writesvani]

coming down

collegestudent! gojo x collegestudent! reader

best friends-to-friends with benefits-to-enemies-to- enemies with benefits-to?

ITS A MESS, OKAYYY??

comment here for Coming Down taglist;

SUMMARY: Y/n and Gojo Satoru were once best friends, inseparable through every high and low. But after a series of mistakes—awkward confessions, unspoken feelings, and a painful betrayal - they haven’t spoken in years. Now, Y/n is forced to attend a party with her friend Yumi, who just so happens to be Gojo’s best friend’s girlfriend. As the night unfolds, Y/n and Gojo’s undeniable tension rises, their mutual hatred barely hiding the simmering attraction they can’t seem to escape. Old wounds, jealousy, and regret mix with the heat between them, and the question lingers: can they keep pretending to hate each other, or will the unspoken feelings they've both tried to bury finally tear down the walls they've built?

TWs:

Underage use of marijuana and cigars

Underage drinking

Use of illegal substances

Anorexia and obsessive dieting

Calorie deficit

Mentions of self-destructive behavior

Smut in later chapters

Angst

Emotional manipulation and trauma

Toxic friendship dynamics

Self-esteem issues and body image

Unresolved romantic tension

Past betrayal and unrequited love

Sexual harassment (implied in some interactions)

Foul language and explicit content

Derogatory language, including use of "puss" and other insults

Toxic romantic relationships and behavior

References to manipulation and control in relationships

Most characters are morally gray, flawed, and engage in problematic behavior

Complex, imperfect characters who make questionable decisions

Characters often act in ways that challenge traditional moral boundaries and ethics. 

THESE CHARACTERS ARE NOT MEANT TO BE PERFECT AND IDOLIZED.

AN: OKAY OKAY OKAY WOW HERE SHE IS. i don’t know what the hell I’m writing - i mean i do but i don’t if that makes sense - this, this fanfic is literally gonna be my baby. it’s inspired by a lot of people i know, it’s partly inspired by my life as well - not gonna tell you which bits of it tho haha. but i’m so excited. honestly this isn’t even chapter one - i’m thinking more of it as a teaser for what’s about to come and when i tell you a lot is coming you better believe it. but this is going to be a part of me - something raw and something real and i know this won’t be an easy read - as you can see by the triggers but i truly, really hope you guys will like it as much as I enjoy writing it. because i’m obsessed. i just got sucked in by y/n and gojo’s dynamic of hatred and toxicity, they’re on my mind 24/7.

i love them.

i hate them.

i wanna be them and i’d hate it if i ended up becoming them at the same time.

this is a mess, my creative mess and i hope you’ll be here for this ride. i hope you’ll enjoy it. i hope it doesn’t gawk at your insides and hurts you the same way it hurt me, but the masochist i am i hope it does something to you. makes you feel things the way i felt them with these two. love you all and i’m open to all questions about this fic. 

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know if you liked it, your words mean a lot to me. my dm’s are always open if you wanna talk. 

As for posting, oficial part one will be up this weekend, so stay in tune if you’d like to read it. 

Take care.

Always be safe.

And for the love of God please don’t be like these two morons. 🩷

CHAPTER INDEX

click HERE for chapter one (pending...)

TEASER; WICKED GAMES proceed with caution...

wc: 2,4k

date: 4th of march 2025

time: 02:22am CET, (GMT +1)

. . .

“No, I am NOT going.”

“Yes, you totally are.”

“No, I’m not Yumi, I’m dead serious.”

“Y/n, for the love of Christ, I love you but if you don’t stop bitching about it right now there will be consequences. Now get your ass up and get ready,” Yumi huffed, her hands crossed.

Your eyes narrowed and then on que you rolled them more dramatically then you intended - not your most mature moment by any means, but being forced to go to THAT party to THAT house didn’t really set you up for a good mood.

“Look Yu, I don’t care about that stupid party your ‘what’s his name agan’ boyfriend is throwing for us, truthfully I’d rather be buried alive in that creepy graveyard we smoke pot in. Alone. No pot. You get my point.”

“His name is Nanami Kento and he’s throwing US a party for OUR birthday, that WE share. It’s not like I have an option to evade it, you know. Besides, we always celebrate our birthday together. Please, please, please, let’s just go, smoke some weed, listen to some of those weird ass tunes you play when you get too baked, wait for our birthday and blow the candles and leave. Bonus points if Nanami fucks me tonight. Plus Gojo’s gonna be there and EVERYONE knows about your little crush on him,” Yumi says, as if that could even make going to this stupid function any better.

But again, she’s right.

First day of highschool and Yumi and you somehow, in the swirl of excited and acne scarred faces ended up sitting together. Two total strangers and two bundled up bags of teenage hormones benched together, you found it easy to connect with the tall, slim girl who smoked some kind of weird American cigars on your 5 minute breaks in those old, urine smelling bathroom stools your school had.

She liked cigs.

You liked pot.

She liked Arctic Monkeys or whatever type of music that ended up overplayed at houseparties by edgy tumblr girls.

You listened to Trilogy for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

She didn’t give a shit about school and skipped most of classes to drink some cheap coffee at a local, rustic place that smelled too much like nargila.

You somehow managed to get good grades, yet skipped classes with her so she didn’t feel lonely.

Oh, and you shared the same birthday. What kind of an odd accident did the universe make to pop out two crumpled up disasters on the same day, same year, two hours apart.

You weren’t so sure.

All you knew was that the girl was tottaly fucked up.

She didn’t eat or sleep.

She smoked.

Cigs and all.

Pot and all.

You slept a lot.

Ate sometimes, taking care that food matches your calorie deficit of course. Of course.

And you too, were fucked up.

But it was okay. You were fucked up together and somehow it made perfect sense.

And now you two, two mistakes of nature and probably both of your parents mistakes, are finally in college. Truly, you didn’t expect Yumi to find a boyfriend and actually stick to him - she doesn’t do all that relationship stuff. It’s too much, she told you once.

Too heavy.

You always understood. Why letting anyone go through the disappointment of getting to know you? Why let anyone try and fix something that isn’t possible to? Why let anyone know that the surface of your behavior isn’t some kind of emotional shield from reality?

That there’s nothing.

No trauma or anything really you protected yourself from, no emotional constipation, no nothing. No GREAT reason to be this way.

Just plain, old you, cruising through life on Gold Marlboro Touch and iceberg salad.

Well, at least you assume that’s what Yumi thinks, because you always felt that way.

You used to get each other.

Now, Yumi has some weirdly handsome boyfriend all first years swoon too, some dude that decided to settle down with a model looking 2nd year that every guy on campus at least once jacked off too.

And you, well you’re still there of course.

“You know what, fine. We’re going, but the shit he’s getting better be good or I’m out and BTW how is Wicked Games weird girl? Best music to get high to is literally from an artist who made it while high? Like really? AND one condition. No Gojo. No looking at him, we don’t talk about him or God forbid TO him, okay?” and like the little devil she is, Yumi actually smiles, no, she grins at your words, because she knows she got you.

You are going and somehow you know she’s going to break the Gojo rule and you already hate yourself for saying yes to her pleas.

Gojo, Gojo, Gojo. That foxy little smirking demon you somehow perfectly tucked in a small pocket of your heart. Nanami’s best friend.

Stupid hot and wicked smart.

One look from Gojo Satoru and every girl on campus practically already has her mouth wide open, waiting for the tip to slide in. One touch from Gojo Satoru and you guess everyone’s already cumming with their clothes on.

Truthfully, you completely understood everyone. Gojo has that walking sexual fantasy turned nonchalant icy prince vibe going for him. You would too, hinch your skirt up for him to fuck you sensless if he asked to.

Well, would’ve.

Because Gojo Satoru has bruised your ego the way no other man has ever even dared to, not like you would ever admit it. Not like you would ever admit that Gojo Satoru saying you ‘weren’t his type’, painfully clutched at your chest and heart and somehow, probably not intended, but still, hurt you.

Who the hell was he to say you are not his type? Yes okay, you’ll give it to him, he’s hot. Really, really hot.

But so are you.

You got that I’m a great student and everybody loves me, while secretly - well not so secretly to anyone but teachers - get high and fuck some emotionally unavailable men (ah, your favorite trope of them) on weekend thing going for you just fine. You got that preeeeetty, as guys say it at least, puppy eyes and eyelashes combo that makes anyone in your presence eat from your palm.

So, why the hell would he say you weren’t his type.

For fucks sake, that guy fucks anything that has two legs and vagina between them.

To make the thing even more humiliating he declared it at some party you weren’t attending, thank God for that, because you think you would probably die from discomfort if you actually heard those ridiculous words fall from his pretty pink lips.

Yumi, your second in command of course, called you immediately to tell you the news of campus sex god not finding you attractive enough.

To make the things even worse, you are pretty sure everyone knows you’d totally give it to Satoru - once, before ‘you’re not his type fiasco’ drunk as hell in a stale club bathroom, you murmured it to a random girl that smelled too little like vanilla and too much of puke. Of course, of fucking course, the gossip of you wanting to fuck Gojo Satoru run through campus like wild fire, before you could put it away.

So yeah, to say the least, going to your own birthday party is weird. Humiliating. Utterly annoying. Horrible idea. But, something inside of you grows hot and you know the thing has to be interesting. A little drama never hurt, right?

Right?

Nanami’s house isn’t what you expected. You don’t know what you expected, but definitely not this. Yumi said he didn’t live on campus, that he lives with his parents or something like that /lame boo throwing tomatoes/ because what 20 something man lives with his parents?

But you didn’t expect his house to be so posh and proper and so, well, expensive. Because, what the fuck, Nanami is rich. He could for sure buy you from the dark web in exchange for this mahogany table you’re pouring tequila shots on.

Or maybe in exchange for simply that huge icy couch spreading through his living room.

Or probably for his kitchen.

What. the. fuck.

But there, on that couch is something that piques on your interest.

Scrolling through his phone, his legs thrown in something you can call a lazy man spread, dark, tall and very hot - might you add, man is sitting. Something dark and exciting runs through your veins, thinking of taking him into Nanami’s parents’ bedroom and riding him until he can’t take it anymore.

“Geto Suguru. He has a girlfriend, so don’t even try,” Yumi whispers into your ear and pulls at your elbow, that you just in that second use to poke her rib. He looks at you. A small half smile - half smirk decorates his face as his shadowy eyes loom over your figure.

Ha.

There he is.

Good boy.

He wants it.

Wants you.

“Well, I don’t see her here, do I,” you whisper back to her and gracefully, leg before leg, walk up to stand next to him.

He’s still sitting and you don’t even have to look at his face to know he’s already looking at you. Slowly, your eyes trail down, taking in the material of his white polo shirt clinging to muscles of his stomach, before finally settling on his lips.

At first, he’s just quiet.

Then, he fumbles with the left pocket of his jeans and you’re ninety-nine percent sure he isn’t that hot anymore, because what is this weirdo doing?

But,

but,

but then he surprises you. From his pocket, Geto pulls up a white tissue. It’s crumpled up, yet you know what’s in it. Because, you see small specks of green poking through whiteness and you can swear your mouth waters from the sight. There, in the left pocket of Geto Suguru’s jeans, hidden into some old tissue you’re praying he didn’t blow his nose in, is weed.

A loooot of weed.

Good God gracious.

“5 grams. Homemade,” he speaks to you for the first time and you’re sure you’re smoking this man’s pot and then sucking him senseless later.

“Heard you smoke, thought you’d want to,” Geto gently murmurs as his arm efortessly grazes your hip bone from his sitting position.

Some would say it’s a coincidence.

You know nothing is a coincidence when it comes to men like him.

You want it even more now.

“Yo, Suguru, I’ve been looking at you all around the house man, why the fuck you sitting in the living room like some NPC, looser,”

“Satoru, you’re stepping on my last nerve again. Let me chill for a bit. I wanna mentally prepare before rolling for all of you incompetent losers,”

“There, there my boy. I just missed my best friend sooo much I just had to see why you left the billiard room you know, right? I just love spending time with you bestie,”

“You know, licking my ass won’t make me give you some of this before I try it myself. Plus, I have company as you can see,” Geto hisses, his annoyance streaming through Nanami’s living room.

You don’t have to turn around to see who’s standing behind you, his breath tickling your ear as he talks to Geto. You could feel him just by his scent. Just by his presence. Just by the energy that pulses through any room he ever steps in.

Let alone by his annoyingly attractive horrible voice.

“I can see that, still don’t approve of you blowing off your homies for some cheap puss,” Gojo mockingly says and finally, finally you decide to acknowledge the elephant called Gojo Satoru in the room.

Because what the fuck?

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Saying you aren’t his type is one thing - sure it’s a bit humiliating, okay, but calling you cheap? Who the fuck does this dude think he is? What gives him a right to insult you, straight to your face - well more to your back, but still - horrible.

There’s a chuckle vibrating through the room. You don’t stop yourself in time. You hear your voice, but it isn’t yours anymore.

Because how dare he, after everything, call you cheap.

After everything just to hurt you.

Again.

And again.

You tell yourself it doesn’t bother you, yet the mocking words leave past your lips before you can stop them.

As if you could have ever stopped anything with him.

After all, Gojo Satoru always specialised in pushing your buttons just the way he wanted to, needed to. Always molded you to be exactly what he wants.

Before he didn't do it on purpose, it was a force of nature between you two.

Now he knew.

So why give a shit about what you're gonna say now?

“Cheap, but could make your dick hard by one high school kiss in your mom’s closet. Could make you whimper out my name in your favorite teacher’s classroom. Could make you cum down your uniform just by biting your lip. We’re a little past being cheap, don’t you think Sato?”

Because before all of this, before not his type catastrophe and your drunken confessions there was you.

And there was Gojo.

And you have been best friends since birth.

And there was THE senior year in highschool.

And you made the terrible, stupid, earth stopping mistake of sleeping together. Multiple times.

And there was a mistake even more horrible than all of these combined.

Falling in love.

And letting each other down.

[aventurineswife]

Hello!! I'm here to talk about the longest request I've ever made, which is about the gardener reader! (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

Technically it's long because I had to put the meaning of each of the flowers, I must also clarify that the meaning is not 100% reliable for two reasons, first I made that request in the early morning so ┐⁠(⁠´⁠д⁠`⁠)⁠┌

Second, I looked for the meaning on different pages, so I'm sorry for putting a meaning that wasn't there. Now we start talking about the "Dream Declaration" store! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

1. | —This reader unlike other readers of my requests. This reader is somewhat quiet and polite, that's why he made a silent declaration to Aventurine because Aventurine was quite attractive and he thought she wouldn't notice someone like them.

2. | —The "Dream Declaration" store, is a play on words, this is done on purpose because "Dream" is used to dream, while Declaration is used to declare a person or something in a general way, if you put meaning to the word it says: "Declaración de en sueño"

3. | —A detail, which is not mentioned but easy to conclude is that the reader has a notebook about flowers, explaining their meaning, how to take care of them and their respective drawing. Also, he has marked the pages that contain the flowers that are related to love.

For now, those are them, since I didn't have much imagination with the reader who owns a garden.

I consider that this reader is like me, a person Introverted and somewhat insecure about romantic feelings, due to his insecurities that Aventurine was the opposite of him, he decided it was best to silently declare his love when Aventurine came to make her usual visit.

-💤🩵 anon

Unspoken Serenade

Summary: In the quiet sanctuary of your garden, you’ve silently declared your feelings for Aventurine, who seems far beyond your reach. Through the language of flowers, you’ve woven a message into each bloom, hoping he might understand what you’re too shy to voice. When Aventurine visits your garden, his sharp gaze and intuitive nature begin to unravel your hidden emotions, leading to a quiet but profound moment of understanding between the two of you.

Tags: Aventurine x Gardener!Reader, Fluff, Slow Burn, Silent Confessions, Flower Language, Introverted Reader, Mutual Pining, Subtle Romance, Emotional Vulnerability.

Warnings: Mild emotional tension, References to insecurity and self-doubt, Mentions of past trauma (Aventurine’s backstory).

The sun had barely begun to dip beneath the horizon when Aventurine made his way to the garden. His steps, fluid and purposeful, were masked by the softness of the evening breeze, carrying with it the intoxicating scent of blooming flowers. There was a subtle elegance to everything he did, his every gesture calculated and deliberate. But as he approached the garden, his usual demeanor shifted to something more akin to curiosity. The garden had always been a place of tranquility, one that he had come to associate with moments of quiet reflection—though he rarely allowed himself to truly reflect.

You, the gardener, stood near the edge of the garden, tending to a patch of roses, your delicate fingers brushing against the petals as if you were in a silent conversation with them. You had noticed his arrival, but you hadn’t looked up. It was not because you were unaware of his presence—how could you not be? Aventurine was impossible to ignore. But you were not one for grand declarations or dramatic gestures. The idea of speaking your feelings aloud was something that made you shrink back in quiet embarrassment. And so, you had chosen a different path—a quieter one. You had made a silent declaration to him, one he would never hear unless he looked carefully enough to understand the meaning behind your every movement.

Your eyes flickered momentarily toward him, only to quickly return to the flowers in your hands. The “Dream Declaration” was more than just a name for your shop. It was your way of slowly revealing something you couldn’t say out loud. Each flower you cultivated, each arrangement you carefully crafted, held its own secret meaning. And today, you had chosen carefully.

The roses you were tending to were white—a symbol of purity, but also the start of something deeper. To some, it might be a quiet whisper of admiration. To you, it was a declaration of your own silent longing, a longing you were too shy to voice. Your hands trembled slightly as you traced the outline of the petals, your mind running with thoughts of what you’d never say aloud to him. How could you? He, the brilliant strategist, the charming, larger-than-life figure, who could see through the motives of even the most skilled con artists. What would someone like him ever see in you, the quiet, introverted gardener, lost in the language of flowers?

Aventurine, noticing the subtle tremor in your hands, took a slow step closer, his keen eyes studying the way you interacted with the flowers. His usual smile, the one that danced in his eyes and tilted the corners of his mouth, was absent, replaced by a thoughtful gaze. He watched you carefully, sensing there was more to you than just your quiet demeanor. He had seen the book you kept close to you—the one filled with notes and sketches of flowers, each annotated with their meanings. He had seen the pages where certain flowers were marked with delicate precision. The ones related to love. It was hard not to wonder what kind of message you were silently sending, especially when he’d noticed you hadn’t looked up at him once since he arrived.

"You know," Aventurine spoke, his voice smooth like velvet, but tinged with a note of curiosity, "these roses are rather beautiful. But I can’t help but wonder... are you telling them something that I’m not hearing?"

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You couldn’t meet his gaze, too afraid that the vulnerability in your heart would be exposed. Your hand moved instinctively to cover the pages of your book, the ones where the flowers of love were delicately marked, as though you could hide your feelings as easily as you had hidden your heart.

"You… you’re probably imagining things," you stammered, avoiding his eyes.

Aventurine’s smile remained, though his eyes sharpened with the kind of subtle understanding he reserved for his most calculated moves. He took a small step forward, lowering his gaze to the roses you had been tending to. His fingers brushed the edges of a particularly delicate flower, the soft petals quivering at his touch.

"Perhaps," he said, his voice carrying a layer of gentle amusement, "but I’ve learned that when someone tends to something with care, there’s usually more to it than meets the eye."

The weight of his words hung between you, an unspoken tension that neither of you acknowledged out loud. Your heart thudded in your chest as you realized that, somehow, in his quiet way, he had seen through the facade you had so carefully built. He had read you, not with the sharp, analytical mind that made him one of the Ten Stonehearts, but with the quiet, intuitive understanding that he seemed to possess when it came to people.

You remained silent, but in your mind, you wondered if you could really hide the feelings you had nurtured so carefully in the garden. Did he see through the petals and leaves? Could he truly read the message you had woven into each bloom?

"I suppose…" Aventurine mused, his tone light but carrying an undertone of something more sincere, "that sometimes the best declarations are the ones that remain unsaid."

You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes met his. The hues of his gaze seemed to pierce through you, and for a moment, you saw something other than the confident, calculating strategist that everyone else saw. There was a softness in his eyes, a hint of something buried beneath the surface, something perhaps even more vulnerable than what you were too afraid to admit.

Aventurine’s smile returned, but it was different this time—gentler, with an almost imperceptible tilt of his head. "But I think I understand what you’re saying," he continued, his voice quiet and sincere.

Your breath caught in your throat as the weight of his words sank in. He wasn’t just commenting on the roses, was he? No, Aventurine was acknowledging something deeper, something unspoken but undeniable.

"You’ll find," he added with a knowing smile, "that in this game, it’s not always about making a grand declaration. Sometimes, the most powerful ones are the quietest."

And in that moment, you realized that maybe, just maybe, your silent declaration was not lost after all.

[scarabsinthestardust]

Right on Time // Ch. 7

MASTERLIST

word count: 3400+

Please forgive me.

***THIS STORY CONTAINS DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND PHYSICAL ABUSE - IF THESE TOPICS ARE TRIGGERING FOR YOU, DO NOT READ OR PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK***

CHAPTER WARNINGS: language; injuries from a domestic violence incident; physical injury; broken/fractured bones; blood; I am not a medical professional, have no formal medical training; mentions of hospitals, police, & medications; mentions of using a gun; a tiny mention/talk of sexual assault but it does ***not*** happen; let me know if I missed anything

I didn’t think I could have been happier with the turn my life had taken since Josh came into it. I fell deeper in love with him every single day. He could make me melt with a simple touch, stop me in my tracks with just a glance, make my heart swell with his laughter. I told him all the time he was perfect; he’d shake his head and say, “No, no, no,” like nothing I said could ever make him believe it.

But I got complacent. No, I think we both did. I should have known that something would happen soon, something that would bring my entire world skidding to a halt.

I’d worked through the night, the last text from Josh being around 10:30 PM. I didn’t get the usual goodnight message, but I assumed he had just fallen asleep. My shift ended and I made it home to shower and change. I figured he’d be up soon, considering the band had a meeting with their manager planned, but I still hadn’t heard from him. I tried to call him, just to make sure he hadn’t overslept, but it went straight to voicemail. That was odd, but I was sure there was a perfectly normal reason for that. Right?

I opened my text thread with him and considered trying to call one more time. As if on cue, my phone rang, but it wasn’t Josh. It was Daniel. When I heard his voice, it was blatantly obvious that something was wrong.

“Danny? What’s going on?”

“I… something happened last night.”

“What? Danny, is it Josh? Is he okay?” When he didn’t answer right away, I started to get irritated. “Danny, answer me. What the fuck is going on?”

“Josh got hurt. He… he spent the night in the hospital. We’re at Jake’s now, but—”

“What do you mean ‘he got hurt?’ What—” My breath caught in my throat, and I prayed he would tell that it wasn’t that bad, but I think I already knew that wasn’t the case.

“He… his ex…”

If he said anything else after that, I didn’t hear him. “I’m on the way.” I hung up and rushed out the door; I don’t think I even bothered to lock it. My heart was pounding so loud I could feel it in my ears. Everything I knew, and everything I didn’t, hit me simultaneously like a freight train. “Fuck. Please be okay. Please, please be okay,” I repeated to myself like a mantra, like if I begged enough, I could make it true.

I drove as fast as I could, and when I swung into Jake’s driveway, my brakes squealed. Jake was already walking toward me. “Jake, what the fuck happened? Where is Josh? Is he okay? Is—”

“Hang on.” I ignored his words at first, continuing to try for answers while I attempted to skirt around him. “Cairo, stop! Just wait a second!”

“What did that motherfucker do to him?!” Every muscle in my body was tensed up as I stared at Jake, begging for a response. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles underneath them.

“He’s… he’s pretty beat up. Uh…” He closed his eyes for a second as he thought about what to say. “Four fractured ribs, broken hand, broken nose. He’s got a fractured, um, whatever this is called.” He tapped near his temple, right next to his eye – the orbital bone. “And Finn, he…” Jake swallowed, and his jaw tightened. “Finn strangled him.”

My own vision went blurry, and I thought I might pass out. Or vomit. “What the fuck,” I gasped, having difficulty catching my breath. Everything was spinning. I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned unsteadily against the hood of my car in an attempt to ground myself. It was not working.

“They wanted him to stay at the hospital longer, but he wouldn’t. He’s inside, resting. He’s… he’s not in a good headspace right now. I just don’t want you to take it personally if he doesn’t want company or doesn’t want to be touched.”

“Finn. Is he in the fucking wind? Or is he—”

“No, he’s locked up. They arrested him last night, when…” Jake trailed off and shook his head. “There’s still a lot I don’t know, things that don’t make a lot of sense. But listen, I need you to understand that none of this is Josh’s fault.”

I shot him a glare. “None of it ever was.” He didn’t stop me as I stormed past him and into the house but followed close behind.

Sam and Danny were seated at the dining room table. They both shared a solemn look. “I’m sorry nobody called you earlier,” said Danny. “Everything was just so—”

“It’s fine.” I brushed it off. That seemed so irrelevant at this point, and I wouldn’t dwell on it. Daniel pointed me in the direction of the room Josh was staying in and I made a beeline for the door.

All the lights were off, but there was enough of the morning sun coming through the windows to illuminate the room a bit. I could see Josh, lying on his right side, curled up under the comforter. I didn’t see how comfortable it could have been with four fractured ribs, but I can’t imagine much was. I quietly closed the door behind me and whispered his name, unsure if he was awake. But he flinched, almost seeming to curl up tighter, if that was even possible. I carefully sat on the edge of the bed, but I hesitated to touch him; I didn’t know where he was injured other than what Jake told me, and I didn’t want to hurt him any further. “Josh, baby, you don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know I’m here.”

His back was to me, so between that and the blanket cocoon he’d created, his face wasn’t visible. His right arm was sticking out from under the blanket, resting in front of him, and he had a plaster cast on his wrist, rendering his pinky and ring fingers immobile.

“Is it okay if I stay here with you for a little bit?”

I didn’t expect him to answer me, and I certainly wasn’t prepared for how broken and raspy his voice sounded. He didn’t sound like himself at all. “Please stay.”

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” I kicked my shoes off and, very cautiously, laid down next to him. I had to ignore the urge to wrap my arm around him, but I got as close as I could. When I lightly ran my hand along his upper arm, still covered by the blanket, he tensed up, so I retreated.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. I didn’t know what else to say, nor what I could possibly do to make this any easier for him, and I so desperately wished I did.

With all that was going through my head, I hadn’t expected to be able to fall asleep, but I somehow did. It was fitful, though, and I dreamt about Josh, my troubled mind inventing stories, creating the events that happened the night before. In my dreams – no, nightmares – I was forced to stand by and watch as he was brutally beaten, unable to move, unable to intervene.

I was nauseated when I woke up a few hours later. Josh was awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, his back still to me. His hand was clutched to his side, and he took a few pained, shuddery breaths.

“Josh, are you okay?” What a stupid question; the answer was obvious. How could I expect him to be okay right now?

“M’ fine. Gotta go to the bathroom.”

“Do you need—”

“I’m fine,” he snapped.

Don’t take it personally. “Okay,” I said, pulling back, despite only wanting to pull him closer, for him to lean on me for support. I watched him as he struggled to stand and walk to the attached bathroom. It wasn’t until he came out and was facing me that I, for the first time, got a good look at him.

Both of his eyes were blackened due to his broken nose. His left eye was swollen shut, framed by more dark bruising along that side of his face. His lip was split open and there was a decent sized gash on his chin. What hit me the hardest, though, was the collection of bruises along his neck, showing clearly where that motherfucker had wrapped his hands around Josh’s throat. My stomach lurched at the sight, and I choked down the gasp that tried to escape me. He wouldn’t look straight at me, so I was surprised when he came towards me and slowly reached for my hand.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he rasped.

“No, it’s okay,” I tried to reassure him. “Just tell me what you need, baby.”

“Just wanna sleep,” he muttered.

“Do you want to try to eat something first?”

He shook his head and moved to crawl back into bed, eyes squeezing shut in pain as he laid down. I helped him as much as I could and pulled the blanket over top of him. I rested my hand on his hip, and he didn’t shy away this time.

He fell back asleep fairly quickly – I imagine a side effect of whatever pain medication he was on – but I wasn’t able to. I think I was still in shock from the visual, seeing how badly he was actually hurt, and the realization of how close he’d come to dying. Tears stung my eyes when I considered the possibility that I could have received a very different phone call. I could have lost him, and the reality hit me like a bullet straight to my chest.

~

It took way more time than I was comfortable with for Josh to finally agree to eat something. He’d meekly ventured out of the bedroom, and Jake was quick to whip up some soup for him, something warm and easy on his damaged throat. He was so uncharacteristically quiet, and it filled the room with such an eerie feeling. Anything that was said to him or asked, he responded to with one-word answers or shrugs.

He retreated to the bedroom almost immediately after eating; he didn’t have to say anything for me to know he was exhausted. It wasn’t just the physical aspect of his recovery, but the healing he would need to do on a psychological level that was draining him.

I stayed behind to check in with Jake; he hadn’t seen much of his brother since I’d gotten there.

“He been sleeping okay?”

“It’s all he’s been doing. I… don’t know what to do,” I admitted sadly.

“I don’t either,” Jake sighed. “All we can do right now is be there for him.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and checked to make sure the bedroom door was closed. “I reached out to one of the cops that arrested Finn. He doesn’t think there’s much of a chance of him getting released anytime soon, and nobody’s gonna post bail for him. But they said they’d let us know if he does get out. Safety reasons, I guess.”

“If he gets out, he’d better disappear. If he shows his face, I might be the next one going to jail.”

“I’m right there with ya, man,” he said without hesitation. “Hey, uh, has he said anything about it to you? About what all went down?”

“No, he’s barely spoken to me at all, to be honest. Why?”

“I don’t know, I’m just trying to make sense of it. Josh’s phone is busted. They said Finn’s the one that called 911 and then stuck around. He pretty much admitted to everything… why would he do that? I don’t—”

“It doesn’t matter,” I interjected. “I don’t give a shit why he did anything. He almost killed my boyfriend, your brother, and I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep if Finn got stabbed in the goddamn throat while he’s locked up. I’m not gonna sit here and speculate on the reasoning or mindset of this psychopathic, abusive piece of shit.”

Jake didn’t have a chance to respond before Sam and Danny were walking in the door, carrying a large bag. Danny placed the bag on the ground and they both sat with us at the table, glum looks on their faces.

“How bad is it?” Jake asked.

They had been to Josh’s house to collect some of his stuff, and to see how much damage had been done inside during the fight. “We cleaned up a bunch of broken glass, but we’re probably gonna have to steam clean the carpet to get all the… the blood out.”

I chewed on my lip and considered how much evidence might be left there, more proof that everything that had happened there was real. “He’s not gonna want to go back there.”

“Do you blame him?” replied Jake. “You, uh, you can stay here with him as long as you want. Unless he wants to go back to your place…?”

I shook my head. “I got someone to cover my next few shifts, but I have to go back to work eventually. I don’t want him to be alone right now.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Josh wasn’t in a good mental state, and I was convinced he needed to be with his people, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

I went home at some point, just long enough to grab some more clothes, and went right back to Josh. Being away from him felt so wrong; despite knowing he was safe at Jake’s, not being by his side made anxiety bubble up in my chest. But I was more than willing to put as much as I could on hold for as long as possible to focus my time and attention on him, to do whatever I could to make sure he was okay.

He was so withdrawn, unwilling to do much more than eat and sleep. He barely spoke, continuing to answer questions with a silent shrug, if anything at all. I had so many things I wanted to ask, so much I wanted to know about that night, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Not only because I knew he wasn’t ready to talk about it, but also because I was afraid of what I might find out.

I woke up sometime during the night to the sound of the shower running. I managed to resist the desire to get up and check on him. I told myself to give him time, and that if he needed help, he would ask. A little while later, the water was shut off and the shower door opened. I waited and listened to him shuffle around in the bathroom, until I heard him hiss, “Fuck!”

I made my way to the door and knocked lightly. “Josh? You alright?” When he didn’t answer, I decided to just open the door. “I’m gonna come in, okay?”

He sidestepped to give me room to join him but kept his eyes straight ahead. It was the first time I had been able to get a good look at the rest of him, bruising along  his sides where his ribs were fractured, and numerous cuts from broken glass marring his flesh, some deeper or longer than others. On the back of his right shoulder, there was a spot covered by gauze and medical tape. The gauze was wet from the shower, and based on the supplies laid out on the counter, I figured he was trying to change it out.

“Here, let me—”

“No.” He turned so he was facing me, although he avoided my eyes. “I can do it.”

“Baby, it’s okay—”

“It’s gross. I don’t want… it’s really bad.”

I almost laughed. “Did you forget what I do for a living?” I very carefully drew my hand to his jaw and coaxed him to look up at me. “Josh, honey, do you remember what I told you? That you don’t have to do this alone.”

He nodded, appearing to swallow down the urge to cry.

“I want to help you. You just have to let me. I promise it’ll be alright. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what, okay?”

He stood mutely for a moment while he pondered my words, before nodding again and turning to give me access to the bandage. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured.

“Shh. You don’t have anything to be sorry for, baby.” I started to peel the tape off, moving slowly. “I’m sorry if this hurts, but it’ll be easier to do while it’s wet.”

I thought I’d be ready for anything, but when I pulled the square of gauze off, it felt like the breath was sucked from my lungs. In the middle of a patch of dark bruising and red, inflamed skin, was a very clear and distinct human bite mark. His skin had been punctured, and I already knew it would scar, leaving a permanent reminder of this battle he was fighting. I couldn’t keep my mind from darting to how this happened, and what it really meant. Did Finn do more than just break some bones? But I didn’t say anything. I wouldn’t put more pressure on Josh than he already had; he was struggling enough as it was. He attempted to stay still while I cleaned it up and put a fresh bandage on it, but his body shook as he cried.

“Shh, it’s okay,” I repeated in an effort to calm him. He turned and buried his head in my chest, gripping my shirt, and kept muttering apologies. I wrapped my arms around him, as gently and cautiously as I could so as to not hurt him.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed. “I should’ve listened to you. You were right—”

“No, don’t do that. It doesn’t matter. You didn’t do anything wrong. None of this is your fault, okay? The one person responsible for this is him.”

Sometime later, I laid with him, gently rubbing his back while he absently traced along the tattoos on my other arm. There was some soft music playing from my phone; it was soothing for him, giving him something to focus on other than silence. But when my own thoughts got too loud, I had to ask him the one question I didn’t want to, and I was terrified of the answer.

“Josh?  I need to ask you something. But… no matter what the answer is… I love you. I love you so much, and nothing is going to change that.”

He slightly lifted his head to look at me but barely gave me a chance to get the question out.

“Josh, did he—”

“No.” He laid his head back down and sighed. “I know what you’re gonna ask, and the answer’s no. He didn’t… he didn’t rape me or anything.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Somehow, I just knew he wasn’t lying, and it was the most relief I’d felt since this had all happened. “I’m sorry for even going there, I just—”

“I know. S’ okay. It looks an awful lot like that’s what happened. The… the bite…” His voice cracked when he spoke. “It was just Finn’s fucked up way of trying to make sure I can’t forget him.”

‘Fucked up’ was an understatement. Not only had Finn beat the ever-loving shit out of Josh and made a pretty valiant effort to end his life (not that I would describe any of that asshole’s actions as ‘courageous’), but he also marked him. He attacked Josh, bit him like a goddamn animal, in some feral attempt at marking what he thinks is his territory. A small part of me, a miniscule part, had its own animalistic urge to hunt him down like a dog and put a bullet in his head. But shooting a caged beast is just as cowardly. However, on the off chance Finn got released and had the balls to show his face… well, I’d make good on my promise to Jake; I considered making sure the gun was loaded, and keeping it somewhere much easier to access.

“Cairo?” Josh’s voice pulled me back to reality. “I need to tell you about it, I think.”

“You don’t have to explain any of it, if you don’t want to.”

“I do, though. I want to tell you what happened.”

///

TAGLIST Let me know if you want to be added!

@hollyco @fleetingjake @musicislove3389 @hailthegodsong @josh-iamyour-mama @katuschka @lilbitx @gvfstuddedmajesty

[mermaidslabyrinth]

First off thank you @vhagar-balerion-meraxes and @dr-aegon for tagging me. This one made me think and i enjoyed filling it out. 🌈

What's the origin of your blog title? I’ve always thought mermaids were such fun fantasy beings. And really fun to believe in. Plus they’re my sister’s favorite (I’m a fairy girl��idk why I didn’t pick fairy but it’s who I am now). Labyrinth is a roll over from my old blog name (lost-in-lokis-labyrinth) but was just too much so I just took labyrinth. Plus, I really like Ariadne from the myth.

OTP(s) + shipname: Serena/Darien (I don’t think they have a ship name. Sailor Moon; old school dub [Forever sad my tapes got ruined 😭]), Kylux (Kylo Ren & Hux [Star Wars]), Harringrove (Billy Hargrove & Steve Harringston [Stranger Things]), Daemond (Aemond & Daemon [House of the Dragon])

I like how the three people above me are like: Aegond 🥰. And I'm over here like: ...Daemond 😃.

Favourite colour: Lavender

Song stuck in your head: Boss Bitch -Doja Cat (I had to look up the title and who sang it). I may have been watching a video about Daemon I have on my phone with this song.

Weirdest habit/trait: I am very particular where things go in the fridge and freezer. Like only liquids on the top shelf in the fridge. Nice, neat, organized. My mom asked the other day about it when she caught me moving a container to the second shelf. I said “yes, it drives me nuts.” Also my room, I’ll know if something is out of place. Even if it looks like it was haphazardly put there.

Hobbies: Writing, reading, rewatching shows from my younger years, making memes of my HotD OMC for my Pinterest boards, got back into drawing

If you work, what's your profession? I take care of my mother. And help out with my nephews.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Be paid to travel or do nothing.

Something you're good at: Organizing. Cleaning. Set me loose in a home and will make every thing tidy and clean (except the bathtub…idk why but no).

Something you collect: Pins. Mostly Disney, Sailor Moon, cryptid, pride. Monster High Dolls (og) but only if I find them out shopping at thrift stores.

Something you forget: Simple tasks. If I don’t write it down I can get side tracked…

What's your love language? I just like to help or get something for someone.

Favourite movie/show: Ever After, I can watch that at any point in the movie. // Roseanne (88-97 series), season 9 sucked but there were a handful of good episodes in it.

Favourite food: Falafels and naan. With baklava for dessert.

Favourite animal: Elephant. They are the first thing I want to see at the zoo. I know it’s frowned upon now but I am so happy I got to ride one as a child.

What were you like as a child? Odd. Very imaginative. I could easily play by myself. Ornery (my grama called me that a lot, others just called me a brat). I was a spirited child and didn’t back down easily.

Favourite subject at school: English

Least favourite subject: Science tied with math (terrible teachers). Honorable mention: PE

What's your best character trait? I’m willing to listen. I may not give good or any advice, but I will listen to what you have to say.

What's your worst character trait? I can be quite stubborn. In my family we call it the ‘[Grampa’s last name] Gene’. Bc it seemed like everyone related to that side is beyond stubborn.

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? That I could travel to places I would love to see.

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? I think it would have been fun to meet my mom when she was in her twenties to early thirties. Like just before she had me. She was such a lively, fun person. The stories I’ve heard, I’d like to see them first hand.

GET TO KNOW YOUR MUTUALS

@lonnson thank you so much for the tag!🫶

What's the origin of your blog title? It's an oxymoron-ish rendition of one of my childhood nicknames (Snow White).

OTP(s) + shipname: Hannigram (Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham, NBC Hannibal); Mary and Matthew Crawley, Downton Abbey (no ship name afaik); Farawyn (Faramir and Eowyn, The Lord of the Rings); Tomgreg (Tom Wambsgans and Greg Hirsch, Succession); Aegond (Aegon II and Aemond Targaryen, Fire&Blood/House of the Dragon)

Favourite colour: green

Song stuck in your head: The Line by Twenty One Pilots

Weirdest habit/trait: refusing to do certain things just on principle, without any kind of rational explanation (it doesn't happen often but some of those principles are very silly)

Hobbies: travelling, reading, writing poems, listening to music, watching movies/TV shows, making collages that I pretty much never post

If you work, what's your profession? I head a division of the Fares and Services department in a public transportation company.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Project management (it's pretty close to my current job, so I'm fine in that regard).

Something you're good at: planning events and mediating conflicts

Something you hate: having to defer to stupid people's judgment

Something you collect: chopsticks

Something you forget: buying salt🤣 For some reason I'm always caught off guard when I run out of it and then go without for a solid week because my brain just can't process the fact that the salt is gone.

What's your love language? Problem solving.

Favourite movie/show: The Lord of the Rings, Love Actually, Inception (movies); Hannibal, Succession (shows)

Favourite food: OMG, I don't even know! I'm such a foodie that I can't really choose.

Favourite animal: cats

What were you like as a child? Very Hermione Granger-like.

Favourite subject at school: English and history

Least favourite subject: PE (mainly because the teacher was an effing tyrant)

What's your best character trait? I'm responsible and dependable.

What's you're worst character trait? I procrastinate way more than I should.

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? I'd like to be more certain about the future (big freakin' detail, right).

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? My maternal grandfather who died before I was born. He was a remarkable man; plus I've been told time and time again that I resemble him a lot, often in really uncanny ways.

No pressure tags: @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @very-straight-blog @autumnrose11 @heretherebebookdragons

[kittlee-sprite]

jesus the touch starvation is really hitting me lately,,,,,,,,

[gnomewithalaptop]

What is cue the sun? 👀

I need you to know I am kissing you on the mouth rn (platonically) -- I've been rotating this plot in the microwave since like. mid-august.

It's transcendence au (obvi) but here's the basic hook:

The year is 7098. The last Mizar (Fang Wu -- and shoutout to aba_daba_do for making a kickass OC) has been dead for four years now, and Alcor has been MIA for about the same amount of time. In their absence, the North American continent has broken out into a full-on, cross-continental war, with the main players being the Greater Austinian Monopoly (formerly known as Texas) and the Alaskadian Collective (Alaska, plus some parts of Canada and north-eastern Russia).

In a last-ditch effort to find some long-forgotten piece of magical information that could win the war, Alaskadian scientist Fatima Tursynbekova (an r!Ford) is sent to the abandoned site of what used to be Gravity Falls, accompanied by her troubled teenage daughter Olya (an r!Gideon). They're expecting to find little more than scant remnants of a town that was razed to the ground over thirty years before -- not much better than an archaeological expedition if anything.

However, what they find instead is a thriving small town -- the inhabitants of which are all completely and utterly convinced that it's the year 2016 (feat. the OG Mystery Twins and an extremely sus Stan Pines).

Anyways blah blah blah romance, secrecy, interpersonal drama but COME LOOK AT THE MAP I MADE I spent entirely too much time on it and I've been dying to share:

(Plus better quality image link for if tumblr steals all my pixels)

[sysig]

Feeling and looking good 🌈 (Patreon)

[nobodybetterlookatme]

pls just be wary of him he’s a lot older than you and that’s not always bad but the way he keeps giving you plushies is sending off warning bells from other stories i’ve heard. again not inherently bad, he sounds sweet and that’s probably all it is, but just make sure he doesn’t start making comments about how young you look or anything like that. i know you’ve said in the past that the age thing doesn’t bother you but you still wanna stay careful

This actually is the first thing he's given me that wasn't either food or something for work ahdkaksk it's not like a regular thing so no worries there. Also it was less bc it was a date and more bc my bday is in a week and I'm not gonna be seeing him until after so he just gave it to me now bc it was convenient lmaooo. I'm being careful tho, like I'm naturally sus of men especially bc of ✨ the trauma ✨ but I really don't think he's a bad dude

[screampied]

JUNO, YOU KNOW! k. nanami

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

wc. 8.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i need . . my wife.”

the car ride home was silent.

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

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

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

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

skrrrrrrrt!

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

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

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

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

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

was this supposed to be normal?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

indeed, he felt hot.

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

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

oh.

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

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

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

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

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

ah- ‘no nut november’.

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

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

but today, of all days?

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

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

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

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

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

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

oh-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and you did.

in more ways than one, really.

to be brief, nanami kento was a feral man-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your entrance was soaked-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

deep, deep trouble..

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

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

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

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

god- you looked so pretty like this..

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

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

he’s slow-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you’re just so damn pretty though..

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

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

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

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

he’s never felt so hot..

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

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

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

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

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

“please..”

♡ ♡ ♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the mental image of you baring his child . .

his wife, you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

it’s only one word and it’s – sloppy.

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

it all felt like a slow … rush.

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

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

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

it’s loud, sloppy, messy..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡ ♡ ♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

again, always the gentleman though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

but oh- he wasn’t done..

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

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

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

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

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

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