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amuromi · 5 months

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★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 7.4k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! baby fever!Nanami, breeding kink, unprotected sex, established relationship (married), pet names (darling, sweetheart, baby), oral (f!receiving), lots of talk about babies and children

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ This was a request for husband!Nanami trying for a third baby!

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ✦ ⋆˙ yukata ┈ summer kimono ⋆ obi ┈ sash used to tie yukata and kimono ⋆ hatsutanjo ┈ baby’s first birthday! ⋆ isshou mochi ┈ a 2kg rice cake babies carry around on their first birthday ⋆ erabitori ┈ a tradition of giving the birthday babies items to choose from to determine what they’ll be like when they grow up

The park is pleasant for once. With the turn of the seasons, the weather has soothed to something far more palatable than the roaring heat of the summer. A breeze rustles through the air, kicking up the scent of freshly-trimmed grass and algae from the park’s pond. Koi fish, scaled in calico spots, swim in lazy circles as visitors toss handfuls of food into the greenish water. It’s still early afternoon on a Thursday, and aside from the elderly patrons dropping morsels into the water there’s only a few people in the park. A man walking his dog, a group of young women jogging along the park trail. The largest party is surely their own as the Nanami family gathers to celebrate their youngest daughter turning one. Nanami himself feels slightly out of place, unused to enjoying such leisure on a weekday after years of spending nearly every day of his life at work. But his wife was insistent that Yuka’s birthday be celebrated on her exact birthdate, so he requested the time away. It’s a welcomed change of pace despite the fact that it almost feels like he’s still at work with the way his coworkers–old friends, they say ruefully–have joined the celebration. It’s hardly a burden seeing how much his daughters adore Gojo and Shoko.

The party is spread out on the patchwork of blankets laid beneath the grove of trees, family and friends all gathered together to celebrate Yuka. The birthday girl looks a bit miffed by the theatrics of it all. Her face is pinched in a nearly pensive look, bottom lip jutted out into a pout, likely unhappy with being wrapped up like an onigiri in her little yukata. She’s long since kicked off her sandals, prefering to toddle around the grass barefoot with her sack of rice cakes strapped to her back. While not usually a strict traditionalist, Nanami’s wife always defers to his parents’ judgment when it comes to how family gatherings should be managed and his mother has always been fond of following customs.

And being the perfect daughter-in-law that you are, you always go above and beyond to suit your in-law’s needs no matter how many times Nanami reminds you that such lengths aren’t needed to please his parents. They already love you–adore you really–but you insist that you’re doing these things because you want to, not to please anyone. He believes you, of course, more enthralled than anything that you have such unwavering respect for his parents. Even when his mother gets a little uppity with how meticulous she is about planning big events. All this fanfare was her idea in the first place.

Not the park–although it doesn’t slip Nanami’s notice that you chose somewhere close to his parents’ home to host the party–but the traditional aspects of the day were definitely the fault of his overly nostalgic mother. When your eldest daughter, Ayako, was born his mother brought out her photo albums to whine about missing when he was little because “he never let me take care of him once he got to middle school,” and cooing over how happy she is to finally be a grandmother. Though he imagines her excitement was a cross between empty nest syndrome and surprise that he’d finally settled down after spending most of his twenties burning the candle at both ends. Between being a salaryman and a sorcerer–although he’s never been very forthright about what that particular job entails–Nanami was slowly grinding himself to dust. But it only took a single glimpse of you sitting in his favorite bakery to reignite his interest in a life outside of work. His mother practically melted the first time he brought you home. Babbling and gushing, something close to tears, at how happy she was to see him bringing a girl home. Though he could’ve lived without her mentioning his lack of romantic partners up until that point.

Now the older woman is working herself up again just watching Yuka explore the park. She has her two kilogram rice cake riding on her back in a little bag and the weight of it occasionally knocks her off her feet. Every little stumble or fall is rewarded with more maternal gushing about how “falling is good, she’s shaking off the bad luck!” It would be irritating if it were anybody else fawning over a baby, the childish tinge to her voice working Nanami’s nerves in a way he tries to ignore because, in some less zealous way, he gets it.

Nanami’s hardly taken his eyes off Yuka since she woke up this morning. Exactly a year later and he still finds it hard to believe that she’s real. Even Ayako seems like a dream two–nearly three–years later. He never imagined he’d be a father. He wanted a wife but the family part never really came to mind. Because, really, he never saw further than what was in front of him when it came to life goals. As a sorcerer the next day was the only goal he had in mind. Fight, survive, live to see tomorrow. He’s not so bleak and nihilistic now that he’s returned to the supremely safer walls of an office, working as a manager at Jujutsu High now that he’s retired from more active duty despite his high Grade level. The pay is good and keeps him off the front lines so he can’t really complain about what was technically a demotion.

Gojo opined about it being a waste of his potential but a flippant mention of his plans to get married shut him up real quick. Then immediately brought on another slew of complaints as the closest person he has to a friend pouted about not being introduced to his lover. Gojo hadn’t even known you existed by that point, but he’s here now. Eating and playing with Nanami’s daughters like he didn’t strong-arm him into a proper friendship after years of a strictly senior-junior working relationship. For a moment, he reconsiders the idea as Gojo’s face screws up like he’s thinking real hard about something, blue eyes staring at his daughter’s face. And he just knows Gojo is about to say something asinine.

“Were you even in the room when you made her?” Gojo asks when Yuka tires herself out enough to sit beside him. Nanami watches his wife kiss her teeth, glowering at Gojo as she wipes Yuka’s hand with a baby wipe and hands her a dumpling she’d been reaching for.

“I’m just saying,” Gojo continues around a mouthful of cake. “Look at her.” Yuka’s happy to be picked up even if Gojo is holding her at arm’s length like she’s a rabid puppy looking to sink her teeth into him. Never mind the fact that at exactly a year old, Yuka has all of eight teeth in her mouth that are about as formidable as the blunt end of a chopstick. She shows them off with a giggle as Gojo bounces her, seeming to enjoy the befuddled face he’s making as he looks between you and Yuka, then Yuka and Nanami.

“I was there.” His wife grouses, stabbing a dumpling of your own as you pout. “And watch your mouth.” You nod pointedly towards the girls. Although a bit vulgar, he isn’t wrong. There’s no mistaking who Nanami’s babies belong to when they look so much like their father. Blonde hair, brown eyes, and while they’re too young to look anything other than round-faced, you’re insistent that you can just tell that their faces are going to narrow out to match his sharper features when they’re older. It doesn’t seem to bother you that they only share a passing resemblance to you. Something in the tone of their skin and texture of their hair. But Ayako definitely has your nose.

“You should try for one that looks more like you.” Gojo whispers over Yuka’s head. Usually Nanami wouldn’t put much stock in the things Gojo says when he takes that playful tone, but something about it makes him pause. The joke passes between the two of you with a conspiratorial laugh, neither a confirmation or denial of the idea, and it tosses water on the seed Nanami has kept carefully hidden in the recesses of his mind since your first pregnancy.

Sometimes it makes Nanami stop and think about how things turned out for him, almost guilty that he’s had a comparatively normal life when looking at the legacy most sorcerers leave behind. It’s nearly a rite of passage to perish in the line of duty at the hands of some curse. At one point, he’d been resigned to it, but every modicum of acceptance evaporated the moment he decided to marry you. Before, when you were only dating, he rationalized that his death would have less of an impact. That you’d be able to move on from a man that was so aloof towards everyone. But he is nothing if not fiercely loyal and violently protective. The moment he decided to marry you–before even asking you the question–you truly became his world. And he’s enjoyed living in it every moment since. Perhaps he doesn’t tell you often enough, still awkward and reserved about expressing his emotions, but he shows you in the ways he knows how.

Just because he can–still learning to let himself enjoy these small moments–he reaches over to touch the nape of your neck. For the occasion, you’ve donned your own yukata, the collar pulled away from the back of your neck as is traditional. He watches the shiver work through your body as his cold fingers drag up the column of your neck. You reach to cover your exposed skin as goosebumps raise, pulling his hand away to twine your fingers together. As if by habit rather than thought, you lift your joined hands to your lips to leave a flower-petal red mark on the back of his hand. Nanami’s eyes linger on the perfect print of your lips, wondering if it’s too soon to broach the topic of another baby. Yuka is only one and Ayako is just nearly three, but he can’t help but wanna see you pregnant again. Because Gojo and his damn mouth just had to mention a baby that looks like you. Trying for a baby that looks like you. And in this quiet moment, despite everything happening around him, Nanami can’t help but linger on the thought.

It’s a selfish wish because you’ve never complained about how your pretty girls look but he can’t help but want to try now that someone’s gone and brought it up again. His mother had preened at both hundred day celebrations, insisting that the Nanami genes are strong or why else would his girls look so much like him, so much like Nanami’s own father. And he knows it’s true to an extent, one plus one equals two and genetics work out in different ways, but Nanami can’t help the desire to try.

He’s staring and he knows it. Eyes lingering on the shape of your lips and flutter of your lashes like he doesn’t see you everyday. His staring is only interrupted when Yuka stands up, babbling about mama, mama! with one hand pointed towards the pond while the other keeps hold of another half-eaten dumpling.

Nanami watches you go, trailing after Yuka as she leads the way to the water. Halfway to the stones shaping out the shore, Yuka holds up her dumpling and he watches you crouch down to accept it, nipping playfully at Yuka’s fingers. His daughter squeals in delight, laughing as you scoop her up in your arms to press kisses over her face as you pretend to bite at her round cheeks. Yuka kicks and giggles, enjoying the attention as her cheeks start to blush with the marks of your lips, lipstick painting her into a doll with rosy red cheeks. It’s enthralling, the way you treat his baby, setting her down carefully at the edge of the water as she points at each fish and duck she finds skimming the pond. You’re kneeling next to her, ruining your yukata with the dirt and grime of the ground as you hold Yuka close to your side to keep her from falling into the water.

He couldn’t have picked a better woman to have his babies, to be his wife. And even if they don’t look much like you, Nanami is glad it’s your personality that his little girls reflect. You always say babies are like sponges, sucking up traits from everything around them and he can see it plain as day in moments like this. Yuka likes being outside, shrieking with delight at every animal she sees, because she’s always following after you like a little duckling anytime you’re out in the garden. Ayako will eat any food you put in front of her because she’s always underfoot when you’re in the kitchen. Like little pieces of clay, Nanami can see the impressions your hands have left on the girls as they’ve grown.

He’s there, too, in less obvious ways. Ayako has never complained about bedtimes, never thrown a fit about having to go to daycare because she’s just like her daddy. Nanami likes structure and punctuality and it makes his oldest easy to manage. The same way Yuka can easily speak up for herself, so quick to snap out a petulant no! if something is making her upset or uncomfortable. It always makes you laugh how prompt she is about her irritation even at such a young age. Nanami can’t help but wonder if baby number three–if and when they come along–will look like you and act more like him.

He’s so deep in his mind, wrapped up in the thought of a baby with your eyes and his nose, that it takes his mother clapping to make him refocus. She smacks her hands together like she’s banging cymbals and Ayako decides she wants to help, clapping along from Shoko’s lap as his mother announces that it’s time for the erabitori. She digs through one of the legions of bags you brought to the outing, shooing his father aside so she can make space on the blanket for the erabitori items. Nine in all are set out on the blanket.

Another tradition meant to guess at his child’s future. Each item has its own meaning. A 1,000 yen–weighed down with a rock to keep the breeze from carrying it off–for wealth, a calculator for an affinity for mathematics or business. You carry Yuka back from the water, setting her down once his mother has finished fiddling with the arrangements. Yuka waits patiently until she’s urged forward–rice cake in tow–towards the neat row of objects. She seems to consider everything for a moment, even smacking her little fist on the travel-sized dictionary before thinking better of it and picking up the pen instead. His mother claps again as Yuka tests the taste of the pen between her little teeth.

“Pen!” His mother says happily. Gojo leans towards Shoko and whispers none too quietly, “What does the pen mean again?”

“Studious.” You answer happily. “And good at writing or drawing. I didn’t have a paint brush for art but a pen is good too.” Nanami had picked up a ruler on his first birthday. Methodical. Diligent. It makes sense that he turned out so pragmatic. Ayako had picked up the pair of chopsticks and his mother had insisted on feeding her extra for the rest of the day because chopsticks mean you’ll never have to worry about food. The tradition is inoffensive, and you seem fond of it. “It’s cute!” you insisted when his mother suggested it for Ayako’s hatsutanjo. Really, he couldn’t care less what the future holds for his children as long as they’re safe and happy. He hopes his level of cursed energy is a fluke. Neither of his parents can so much as see curses, so it’s likely his girls will never become embroiled in the sorted life he’s lived up to now. Pen or chopsticks, it’s all the same to him.

“Kento picked the ruler, do you remember?” His mother beams, working herself up into another spiel about how much she misses taking care of him. She goes on about it for a while, long enough for Yuka to abandon the pen and start fussing about the weight of the rice cake still strapped to her back.

“C’mere, baby.” Just your voice is enough to soothe your daughter in an instant. She quiets down, little arms reaching towards you for comfort. She nuzzles her way into the collar of your yukata, nosing away the tightly wrapped fabric so she can hide beneath it. Nanami recognizes the lethargy in her arms, the way she pulls them back close to her chest the moment the straps of her issho mochi bag are pulled off. She’s tired, probably halfway to sleep already with the way she’s curled up like a cat in your lap. Shoko is in the same boat with Ayako yawning from her place in the woman’s arms. It’s been a long day, the sun turning darker as it begins to set behind the trees in beams of orange light.

Everything is packed away with a methodical swiftness, not at all hindered by the baby on your hip. It’s not until you’re all walking towards the parking lot, exchanging final goodbyes with Gojo and Shoko, that his mother starts to drum up a fuss again.

“Could we take them for the weekend?” There’s barely enough time to consider the question before the woman launches into a seemingly prepared speech about how their house is closer and you’ve worked hard planning and deserve a break. In the end you rouse Ayako and Yuka just enough to ask if they want to spend a few days with their grandparents. All it takes is a reminder that the ice cream shop they like is near grandma and grandpa’s house to get the babies to happily agree to visiting. His parents have always been attentive to his children so Nanami knows there’s no need to worry over not having packed any clothes or toys for the girls. Even his father’s car is already equipped with the proper car seats for each of his girls. All you need to do is kiss them goodbye and promise to call in the morning. And just because you’re clingy with your babies, you stand and pout even after the taillights of the car have disappeared around a corner.

Nanami brushes his thumb over your jutted lip, smearing lipstick on the pad of his finger.

“I don’t like when you’re upset, darling.” It’s a simple fact but it always gets you to ease up. He doesn’t ask you to smile–knows you hate it when men badger you about it when you’re out running errands without him–but there’s the hint of a smile on your face when he opens the car door for you. Even after so many years together, Nanami hasn’t lost his manners. At least, not outwardly because he spends the entire drive home trying to keep his hands to himself. The long skirt of your yukata makes it easier for him to behave because he can’t feel your skin when his hand drifts towards your thigh, but he wants to untie your obi the moment the last of the bags are brought in the house.

You look perfectly ruffled from a day spent outdoors with two toddlers. Hair slowly coming loose from the updo you’d pinned it into this morning, collar hanging open after Yuka tucked her face into your chest, lipstick faded from eating and giving out kisses. He wants to muss you up further. Ruin your hair and makeup and get you out of your pretty clothes. The idea of another child is still fresh in his mind, and while he knows the responsible adult thing to do is have a proper conversation about it, Nanami can’t help but just want to fold you up and make you take it. You’ve always said you want a big family.

“Want you in my bed.” Nanami’s lips brush against the back of your neck as his arms wrap around your waist so he can feel how you tense up, thighs squeezing as his words sink in. It’s always been easy to get you how he wants. You say it’s something about how imposing he can be, all broad shoulders and graveled whispers in your ear. It only takes a few words to get you weak in the knees and Nanami’s quick to sweep you up, carrying you to the bedroom. The bed is neatly made, the same as you left it this morning, and he’s looking to ruin it by the end of the night. He tosses you onto the duvet but you’re quick to scramble to your feet, squeaking about taking off your makeup and taking down your hair.

“Leave it.” There hasn’t been much reason for you to get all dolled up recently and Nanami is looking forward to having your makeup run and hair hanging loose. Undoing it all now would deprive him of the pride in knowing he’d been the one to ruin it. Still, you stand in the middle of the room looking unsure of what to do so Nanami decides for you. From his seat at the edge of the bed he draws you in close by your waist.

“Want this off, sweetheart.” He instructs, running his hands over your waist hidden beneath the bulk of your obi. It’s cute to see how shy he can make you when he tries. Getting you all flustered and nervous like he hasn’t been with you for years, like this is all new and you’re just hoping to keep his attention. His eyes have nowhere to be but on you. His pretty wife carefully undoing the bow tied in her sash as you take off your yukata like unwrapping a present. Something nice just for him as the robe slides off your shoulders and pools at your feet. Beneath it is a plain tank top and shorts but it has Nanami’s pants feeling tighter even still. Your shorts are just tight enough to bite into your skin, lining out the shape of your thighs and he reaches out to tuck his fingers up under the hem, squeezing at your hips as he pulls you closer.

A kiss is laid on the sliver of skin standing between your shorts and shirt before his hands are under there too, pushing it higher until you get the message and take it off yourself. Nanami considers keeping your shorts on. They’re the kind he could push to the side to get to where he wants to be, but he wants to see so they’re tossed aside too. He doesn’t miss the way you turn shy once he gets you in your underwear, knees knocking and feet shifting like it’s the first time all over again. It almost feels like it with the way Nanami’s brain is working overtime trying to remember which positions are best for making a baby.

“Hi, mama,” he says, hands petting over your waist as you giggle, something sweet and breathless.

“Hey, Kento.” Just the sounds of his name rolling off your tongue is enough to get his dick twitching, pants feeling too tight as his cock strains against his zipper. But how else is he supposed to feel after spending the day watching you be such a perfect mother for his babies? There’s no other reaction when you’re looking so beautiful and he’s got you home to an empty house. And you’re making it worse with the way your hands are running through his hair, nails scratching across his scalp in a way that sends shivers down his spine. Mumbling about “so eager, papa,” like you’re not pulling him closer as he kisses wet marks over the shape of your tummy. Your soft laughter turns to squealing as he pulls hard at your hips, tripping you up so you land on his lap. Nanami groans, can’t help being loud when you’re sitting so pretty on his dick. He can feel the heat of your pussy through his pants.

He’s eager, but you’re right there with him, hips already moving as you grind yourself down on his cock. He’s barely touched you, just some soft words and gentle touches and your pussy is already drooling all over his pants. There’s a wet spot where you’re grinding and he likes seeing the way you’re marking him up like you’ve got anybody to compete with. His hands flex around your waist, squeezing and kneading until he decides you’re done teasing. One hand slips away to wrestle with his belt, struggling blindly over the button and zipper because he can’t take his eyes off the way your lips part around soft pants of his name. Cute little sighs of Kento that have him rushing to get his dick out of his pants. The hisses when your fingers wrap around him, squeezing softly as you thumb over the mess leaking from his flushed tip. You’re going slow, being gentle, looking at him with those pretty eyes like you need permission to touch your husband when he’s this desperate for you.

“S’your, sweetheart.” He can’t help the way his voice dips low, sounding angry as his hips thrust into the tightness of your fist. “Whatever you want.” His hands shift from your hips to your back, running up the column of your spine at just the right time to feel you shiver. Your teeth nip at your lips, lashes batting all shy like because you love when his voice gets deep and gruff like he’s mad at you.

“C’mon, baby,” he tries to sound sweet but he’s stuck in that low reverb that has you squirming as he lifts you up to sit on his dick. You’re real helpful, pulling your panties to the side and guiding him inside you with a whimpering sigh. He sees you trying to be quiet as your pussy struggles to take him in one go. He should’ve loosened you up on his fingers but you don’t sound upset, making little stuttering sounds as you try to take him in deeper. He has to grab your hips, muttering “slow” and you whine. He knows his voice is making it worse for you because you’ve always loved the way he talks to you.

“Kento.” He hears your voice break as you pout when his hands keep you from taking him any deeper. He wants you to. Fuck, does he want to see your pussy swallow him all, but you’re getting too eager and he’s not about to let you hurt yourself on his dick. No matter how you bat those wet lashes at him, pouting ’cause you know he always wants his girl to have everything she wants. Especially if it’s him. He kisses between your brows, brushing back loose strands of hair, and reminds you to go slow. It’s torturous, feeling the way your pussy is already trying to milk him when he’s only halfway inside. He keeps your pace steady even as he feels you trying to buck against his strength to get him in deeper.

“Relax, sweetheart. Gotta calm down if you want me inside.” Nanami croons, lips pressed up against the shell of your ear. That gets you to loosen up, taking in slow, steady breaths as he works you down inch by inch until he’s got you sitting all the way down on his dick. It’s enough to knock the breath out of him feeling the way your pussy is making a mess in his lap. Your thighs are shaking as you clutch at his shirt, struggling to lift yourself up. Now that he’s pressed up deep inside you, you’re trying to run away from him. He’s mean about grabbing at your hips, keeping you sitting pretty on his cock. He can feel your cunt squeezing real tight around him, pussy trying to milk him before he’s even moved and he knows the second he does he’s not gonna let you off his dick until he’s satisfied. He hears you sniffling about it being too much after trying to rush into it and it makes him smile.

“Yeah, darlin’? S’too much? Tell me where you feel it, baby. Show me.” It takes a second for your hand to unclench from his shirt to press his fingers into the shape of his cock pressing up against your tummy. He can feel the faint shape of himself seated up inside you and it makes his cock twitch just looking at it. You always take it so well. He can tell by the look in your eyes, behind the sparkling tears, that you’re confused. He’s not usually like this, all mean and demanding. Nanami prides himself on being a gentleman and treating his pretty wife like fine china but tonight he’s acting possessed, so wrapped up in the thought of getting you with another baby. His baby. One that looks just like you, just like him. It doesn’t matter as long as he’s got you waddling around all big and pretty in the next few months. Trying to find his usually sweetness, Nanami digs past the desperation to get you bouncing in his lap, keeping your pace slow and steady even as he wants to fuck you hard and fast. That’s not how this works. His babies are made with love. Can’t have you feeling anything less than adored when he fills you up.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” It’s hard to get you to focus with the way you’re hiding your face in his chest but he gets you to look up long enough to ask if you want another baby. Your body reacts before your mouth has time to shape out the words. He feels it in the muted sting of your nails biting into his shoulders through his shirt, sees it in the way your eyes widen and head nods.

“Want it. Want another baby.” You agree, stuttering over how fast you’re trying to get the words out. Whining about, “as many as you want, Kento.” That’s all it takes. He pulls you down hard, making you take him to the base in another deep stroke that has you keening. You’re starting to move on your own, rushing to fuck it out of him. He’s still got his hands on you, squeezing at the softness of your thighs as they shake and tense with how hard you’re riding him. Nanami’s seen you eager but this something else. Something wild and desperate. All he can focus on is the way your cunt is gripping him like you never want to let him go. Good, because he doesn’t wanna let you go either.

He knows he’s crowding you, but he can’t help but wrap his arms around you. Around your waist and up your back so he can cradle your head and make you look at him while you bounce on his cock. Black streaks are already running down your cheeks as he’s looking to smudge your lipstick beyond saving as his lips seal over yours. It’s hardly a kiss with the way your lips can’t close around each panting breath but he swallows all your little noises happily, tongue sweeping over yours.

“Gonna cum for me, darling?” He asks when you really start getting noisy, whimpering and moaning but still keeping quiet like you don’t have the house to yourselves. He can feel your whole body shaking and he reaches between your bodies to work his fingers over your clit. It nearly kills him, how hard you clench as he teases the sensitive little bud. You’ve stopped riding and started grinding, moving your hips in those damning circles that barely do anything for him but he lets you because he knows it feels good to you the way his cock is stirring up your insides. He presses a kiss to your forehead and tells you to keep going ’cause Nanami likes when his wife feels good on his dick even if he’s not getting anything from it. He’s here for you, for your pleasure. All you gotta do is take it. And you do. Wetting his fingers as you come hard, slick leaking down his dick as you shudder through your orgasm.

“Feels good, baby?” He knows it does. You’re grabbing onto him like you’ll fall apart if he’s not there to hold you up, trying your best to get up. He watches your struggle, the rough pads of his fingers still teasing at your clit even as you jerk at the overstimulation. He’s got you so loose that your legs are useless as you try to sit up, every little shift only sinking you deeper on his cock because you can’t find the strength to get up with how hard your legs are shaking. Nanami keeps you there with a hand on your hip, not pulling you down or lifting you up, just keeping your hips grinding against his dick until he feels you cumming again. A smaller, more fluttering orgasm that has you clenching real nice around his cock.

He kisses your spit-soaked lips with soft praises of “just like that, sweetheart,” chuckling darkly at how soft and pliant you’re getting. It’s like you’re melting in his arms, so wet you’re swallowing him back inside and it gets him close when he feels you take him all over again. He hears his name, soft and shuddering as you try to break through the prolonged pleasure. He can’t tell if it’s praise or a complaint so he helps you up to your knees, going slow so you feel every inch of him as it slips out of your wet heat. He’s absolutely leaking against his stomach, leaving a wet patch on his shirt as he lays you down properly. You’re tired, he can tell, but you’re still pawing at his arms and whining about how he didn’t come yet.

“Said you were gonna give me a baby.” It almost hurts how hard you’ve got him with just a few words and that little pout. He brushes his fingers over your lips like he always does when you pull that face and you open your mouth to take them inside, tongue cleaning up the mess you’ve left on his fingers. Fuck. He snatches his hand out of your mouth and you smirk like you know exactly what you did sucking on his fingers like they were his cock. If he wasn’t so close to the edge he might consider letting you taste the real deal, let you choke on his cock the way you so clearly want to. But he’s not sure he’ll last and he wants all his come going inside your cunt tonight. Anywhere else would be a waste. Can’t get you pregnant by cumming down your throat.

There’s not much of a show in the way he takes off his clothes but you stare like you don’t ever want to see anything else as he pops each button of his shirt. It’s tossed aside with little fanfare and he remembers you’re still partially clothed so he spares the moment to unhook your bra and drag your soaked panties down your legs. It’s got you all shy again like he can’t see the way your cunt is still dripping, thighs shiny as you press them together and watch him kick off his slacks. He knows he needs a moment before he touches you again because it’s getting hard to remember to treat you nicely with the way his mind is cluttered with all the little things he’s missed about seeing you pregnant.

The subtle swell of your belly in the first few months when you complain about how you look fat and bloated, not pregnant. Getting to watch you putter around the kitchen, making the most abhorrent flavor profiles he’s ever seen in the hopes of quelling your cravings. He can’t wait to hear the nickname you give your baby bump. Ayako was “bean sprout” and Yuka had been “bunny” because she was always kicking.

Nanami tries to focus on something softer so he isn’t too rough with you. Usually it wouldn’t matter as long as you’re feeling good but tonight is special–making babies is special–and he doesn’t want to look back and say baby number three was all heat and aggression. So he stops to take his time, pressing warm kisses up your legs until he’s got his head between your thighs. Your hands are in his hair again as he puts your legs over his shoulders, nails scratching over the tapered cut at the nape of his neck. He rewards the feeling with a long tease of his tongue as his lips wrap around your clit. He hears that little sound you always make when he’s got his head between your thighs. A little fluttering gasp that has him humming because he loves hearing his wife feel good, even if you’re still stifling your voice.

One hand leaves his hair as he tongues at your cunt, covering your mouth like he doesn’t want to hear every little noise he can draw out of you. He can feel how good you’re feeling riding his tongue. Feel you dripping down his chin and wetting his cheeks as he drags the flat of his tongue over your clit with quick strokes. He’s making a mess as his tongue teases at your fluttering hole. You’re canting your hips, pulling him closer with sharp tugs at his hair. There’s desperation in the way you’re riding his face, getting him all wet as you grind your clit against his nose like he didn’t just have you gushing on his dick. Your little pussy is greedy, swallowing two fingers at once as he presses them up inside you, hooking against the place that has your back arching and thighs clenching. Nanami groans at the feeling of your soft legs closing around his head, locking him in where you want him most.

This time you come with a muffled shout, voice breaking over the sound of his name. A quiet mantra of Kento, Kento, Kento fills his head as Nanami drags out each shiver and jolt until you’re really pulling at his hair, trying to get his mouth off your pretty little cunt. Threads of spit and slick draw a line between his mouth and your twitching pussy and he can’t help but lavish a few more kisses between your legs before he’s sucking your taste off his fingers.

“One more, sweetheart.” He’s nearly begging as he crawls up your shivering body. “Gimme one more and then I’ll let you rest, promise.” He seals it with a kiss, loving the way you cling to keep him close even when he barely moves away from you.

“Can you do that for me, darling?” He asks just to make sure he hasn’t tired you out yet. You nod, eyes misty with tears as you reach between your bodies to guide him inside you. It’s different with how wet you are. It feels like he’s melting as he bottoms out inside you, real slow like he hasn’t already loosened you up more than enough. You take him to the hilt and he nearly cums just from the soft, hazy look on your face. Something drunk and lovestruck as you stare up at your husband. Nanami thinks he must look just the same as he presses kisses over your face, tasting the salt of sweat and tears. His sweet little wife, doing so good for him. He says as much as he pulls away just to press back inside. You shiver and wrap yourself around him. Arms around his shoulders and legs around his hips. There’s barely any space between you. Everything is skin against skin as he kisses you, tongue chasing yours as you whine into his mouth.

“Wanna hear you,” Nanami grits after another pretty sound is lost as you hide your face in his neck. “S’just us, sweetheart. Lemme hear your pretty voice.” He shifts his hips, aiming higher so he can find that place that has you keening. It takes a few more grinding thrusts to get you wailing, nails biting into his skin as he works those beautiful sounds out of you. It’s still not as loud as he wants, as loud as you used to be, but it’s enough. Gets his blood pumping and balls tightening as you whine about how good he feels inside you. He can feel himself getting close. His pace starts to break, losing his rhythm as he teeters on the edge. Nanami looks between you and sees the way you’re creaming on his cock, getting him all sticky and wet as you make a mess on the sheets. He can feel your pussy milking him, feel the way your thighs are trembling around his waist.

“C’mon, honey.” You’re brushing his hair away from his face, pulling him in until he can feel each panting breath brushing against his lips. “Want your baby. Gimme another.” Fuck. Something about that little pout and the way you sound so desperate and longing get him. Nanami feels himself tensing up, arms slipping underneath your body to hold you close to his chest. A litany of rumbled groans wells up in his chest as he presses in as deep as you’ll let him, cumming hard inside you.

He knows you feel it ’cause you make a little gasping sound, hips squirming until he presses you still against the mattress. You take it so well, sniffling and whining as you thank him for filling you up.

“Y’know I always give you what you want, mama.” And he does because even if he’s only really acted on it today, the thought of having another baby has been on his mind for months. And you haven’t helped looking so beautiful while taking care of his babies. Of course he wants another. How could he not? He presses gentle kisses against your face; your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your lips, until you stop shivering in his arms. Even though he doesn’t want to, Nanami reaches for a pillow to prop your hips up as he pulls out. He goes real slow just to watch how you squirm at the feeling of his cock sliding against your sensitive walls.

“You think that did it?” Nanami almost laughs at the eagerness of your tone, a doting half smile playing on his lips as his thumbs rub circles just under your navel.

“I dunno,” he says fondly. There’d been a strategy to conceive your first two babies. Checking calendars and tracking ovulation to line everything up for the best chance, and it worked out perfectly. This time was spur of the moment. No discussion, no planning. Just a desperate need to get his wife pregnant again. To see what pretty baby you’d give him this time. It doesn’t really matter it baby number three is made tonight or any night in the future because he’s happy to fuck you into the sheets even without baby making in mind. Still, it’s sweet to know that you’re right there with him.

Nanami sank a good chunk of his savings from his office job into buying this big house and you’re more than happy to fill it up with happy little babies with him. He kisses your belly even though there’s no way to know if it took just yet, burying his face in the softness of your tummy. Your hands are back in his hair, stroking through the sweaty mess of blonde locks with enough softness to nearly lull him to sleep. Except he knows he needs to get up, needs to clean you up and get the sheets sorted out before he can fully relax. There’s painstaking dedication to the way he takes care of you. Undoing your hair and washing your face. The smell of you clings to him after a shower. The scent of your hair and skin. Something uniquely you that overwhelms him as he pulls you into his arms. He hears you mumble something about “don’t leave,” when his arm loosens from around your shoulder just long enough to grab the book from his nightstand.

“I’m not going anywhere, darling.” And he means it because where would he go when his world revolves around his family? He’d be lost without you and his little girls, with–hopefully–another on the way.

#nanami ★#nanami smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami x reader #jjk smut #★ mine!

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delulujuls · 6 months

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a rookie? more like a cookie | op81, ln4

hi! i was planning to start writing here with something other than that, maybe with something more bold and interesting but i ended up with this. is this good? probably not. is this wholesome? hell yeah it is. enjoy and happy race day!

warnings: none, just y/n and lando dont knowing how to act and admiring their new bestie. also can you smell that? yup that is the scent of bi energy

pairing: lando norris x fem!mclarendriver x oscar piastri

"What do you think of him?"

Y/N asked, not taking her eyes off the guy who was recording content for his social media a few meters away from them.

Lando sat right next to her, fiddling with his phone, but his gaze was also fixed on their new McLaren acquisition. For the past few minutes, the pair had been silently observing the aussie who officially became a member of their team the previous day and who still seemed somewhat shy. Even Lando's typically unfiltered chatter, which never seemed to stop, couldn't come up with a coherent sentence to start a conversation this time.

"Are you asking about his overall impression or if I'd hook up with him?"

"Any answer will do."

Lando tilted his head, deep in thought, which didn't happen very often.

"I'd hook up with him."

"Me too."

Sensing that he was being watched, Oscar, during a break in recording, glanced in their direction and smiled. Lando and Y/N returned his smile, giving him a thumbs up to show that he was doing great.

"I think we might be invading his privacy," the girl said, still smiling.

"We're sitting a good five meters away," Lando replied, feeling that strange, burning sensation of being flustered for the first time in ages.

Oscar averted his gaze from them and focused on resuming his conversation with the social media people. The pair let out a heavy sigh.

"I think this excites me a hundred times more than him."

"No wonder, you're a Scorpio. I bet he's a Virgo so he don't really give a fuck."

Y/N exclaimed, opening her water bottle and taking a few sips to calm herself.

"He's an Aries, I checked."

The girl nearly choked.

"He can't be an Aries. I'm an Aries, and damn, look at me, being a total pain in your ass."

Lando quickly googled the guy without any trouble and held his phone up to show her the birthdate.

"I was sure he was a Virgo. Just look at him, he's a total introvert."

Lando smiled as he watched Oscar smiling at the camera while being recorded.

"I like introverts, they're cute."

Y/N was about to respond, but Oscar stood up and started walking towards them.

"Will you record insta story with me? I want introduce my new friends to my followers"

He didn't even finish the sentence, and the pair instantly made room for him on the couch. Piastri chuckled softly and sat between them, logging into his app. When he turned on the camera, the three of them appeared on the phone screen, and each one of them felt that this was the beginning of something great - not only adventures within the team but also a strong friendship beyond it.

#lando norris #oscar piastri #mclaren #f1 #formula 1 #ln4 #op81 #lando norris x reader x oscar piastri

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sparkbeast20 · 22 days

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Mini Headcanons (Gehenna version)

I'll be making these mini HCs for each region

Sitri - He would have multiple sets for special occasions, now he has a good excuse to have a small date with MC. They go on dates as he looks for new sets. He's blush when MC picks out the tea sets and describe why they like it.

Leraye - When he was a kid, he saw someone wearing a monocle and wanted one. So Zagan gave him one and Leraye was happy, little did Leraye knows that it was a half a glasses Zagan had, which broke cause Satan hit him.

Paimon - He treasures things, so when it comes to things with the other nobles, his king and MC, he has pictures of them saved in his phone and a physical copy on the back of his phone, under the case. That way, when his phone's battery dies. He can just see that and it brighten up his day.

Zagan - He listen to classical music when it comes to a slow and quiet work out, and he'll put on more upbeat and at times heavy metal for more of a sweaty work out.

Belial - When he was starting to get into cosplay, he dressed Jjyu up too and the little guy liked it (Cause he is just happy to see Belial happy) now, that MC is in hell. The three dressed up as either a trio characters or a parent and kid characters.

Astaroth - He asked MC to record them reading a verse of a novel, and often he used that as his white noise whenever he has trouble sleeping cause he loves hearing their voice. He remembers one time that his snake looked at him and he immediately knew that he was asking to listen to the recording cause he was missing MC, due to them being in a different region.

Satan - He asked for a custom motorcycle sticker with MC's birthday. Not that he'll forget, he just want to have a lucky number, and that's MC's birthdate.

I'm a bit rusty with making hcs, I tend to make hcs as close to their personalities and make them somewhat possible.

#what in “hell” is bad?#prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#what in hell is bad #whb #whb satan #whb sitri #whb leraye #whb paimon #whb belial #whb zagan #whb astaroth #whb headcanons

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l13 · 1 year

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♡simon 'ghost' riley♡

idiots in love, but also a set-up for a future smut with my babygirl ghost

cw: female!reader, ghost has a lot of thoughts about hurting soap but he doesn't mean it!! i think.. IT'S JUST FLUFFY FLUFF, some descriptive sexual thoughts.

It was Ghost’s birthday, not that he told you himself, of course. You found out on your own. So, when you gave him a poorly wrapped box, he made a mental note to punch Soap later for not keeping his mouth shut. “What’s this?” he asked but took the box anyway, inspecting the wrinkly wrapping paper (knowing damn well this took you more than one try to wrap), amusement dancing in his eyes.

You cleared your throat, suddenly cursing yourself for even getting him a gift. This was weird, right? Sure, you guys were friends but not i’ll-buy-you-gifts type of friends. You’ve killed people together before, for Christ's sake. “A little birdie told me it was your birthday..” he raised a blond eyebrow at that and you caught a movement of where his mouth would be, the material of his balaclava shifting. Did he just smile?

“Was this birdie Scottish, by any chance?” trying to ignore the way his gruff voice affected you, you chuckled instead, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the goosebumps on your skin. “Don’t get too mad at him, I basically blackmailed him to tell me,” you muttered out the last part but he shot you a look and you knew he’d heard you. Oh, well.

Ghost decided to ignore the flip of his stomach at the thought of you wanting to know his birthdate. It was stupid.…Right?

“Are you gonna open it or what?” That brought his attention back to his gift, and you watched as his hands peeled the duck tape off the paper gently, as if he didn’t want to rip it. A more forceful tug on the other side of the box ripped the edge slightly and he clicked his tongue, muttering under his breath. Once the edges were off, he placed his pointer and middle finger under the wrapping paper, and slid it across, successfully getting the rest of the duck tape off.

Why were you holding your breath? Why was this weirdly erotic? Why couldn’t he have ugly hands?

You lost focus, the rest of the room blurring together as you followed the movements of his hands. They were so big, and the veins that decorated them were so pretty, and you really wanted his hands against your throat--

A huffed out chuckle brought you back, and you blinked rapidly, noticing that he’d already opened the box, currently holding his gift in his hands. He looked up at you, proudly raising it towards you and you couldn’t help the grin that overtook your face.

His palm held a white cup that looked awfully small in his hands, with ‘#1 Asshole’ written on it with black bold letters. “Woow, it suits you, LT.” you bit your lip, trying not to laugh and he let out another huff, shaking his head slightly. “I noticed that Soap was stealing the cup you like to use, so I thought I'd get you your own..” your eyes dropped to his hands once more, noticing how he was circling the rim of it with his finger. You inhaled sharply, “Not that it will stop him from stealing this one, he’s a menace-”

“He won't.” your eyes snapped to his, noticing he was already looking at you. There was a promise in his words that sent a shiver down your spine and you shifted on your feet. “Well.. I better get going,” you smiled at him, walking towards the door, pausing next to him and letting your hand touch his arm, feeling him immediately tense under your touch. Right. You let go of him just as quickly, muttering a rushed “Happy birthday, Simon.” and practically running out the door.

When Ghost went to his room, he placed the mug on his bedside table gently, making sure the writing faced his bed. Once he’d changed and finally took his balaclava off, he laid on his bed and turned to his side to stare at it again. He stared, and stared and all he could think about was you. He couldn’t stop the stupid grin plastered on his face even if he tried to, mentally cursing himself for acting so awkward in front of you. Feeling his eyes start to close, he mumbled a “Thank you,”. The thanks he owed you. The thanks he would have said to you if he wasn’t frozen on the spot by the slightest physical contact from you.

2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

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01zfan · 1 month

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understanding my faith pt. 4 | l. at

church boy!anton x fem. reader | 3.3k words

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANTON! this is a compilation of a few requests and some other things i got in my inbox heh. also looked it up out of curiosity and anton actually was born on a sunday LMFAO?

contains: religious imagery and metaphors

umf: part one | part two | part three | part four

anton was born on a sunday. it was the first warm day of the season, marking the unofficial start of spring. anton heard the stories of the sun breaking through the storm clouds in the middle of the sermon. the congregation watched in silence as the beam of light casted through the stained glass to shine on the podium. it was then, as if lit on fire by the light that his mother began wailing. despite having a swollen stomach underneath unnecessary layers of clothes she still attended church passionately.

she got up from the pew and stumbled towards the exit, hand on her stomach while groaning in pain. many rushed to her aide but the beam of light was faster. it shined on her back, and when it disappeared behind another cluster of clouds a screaming baby was left in its place. anton was birthed in the aisle between two rows of pews while his mother was surrounded by confused parishioners.

if anton’s mom was treated like the virgin mary then anton was baby christ. he was too young to remember the offerings he received en masse. envelopes full of cash were slipped into his carseat and everyone constantly offered to hold him. anton had fleeting memories of people coming to him when he could first form full sentences, asking for guidance or for his well wishes. that was when he was still mischievous—prayers came with the small price of chocolate or banana milk.

every year when anton’s birthday came around, his church celebrated . when anton was younger he believed his congregation was celebrating him. but there was no cake, only food that received blessings from the bible. none of his friends were there, only people from his flock. he wasn’t at the arcade where he wanted to be, instead surrounded by trees and log cabins. anton received no gift he truly wanted. when he wanted the newest action figure he only got lessons on how to fish and forage for food.

by the time he was fifteen, anton dreaded seeing his birthdate on the calendar. a whole weekend gone every year, lost in the woods on an unnecessary church retreat. over time, anton started filling in the gaps of the story he heard through the grapevine. the story was beautiful and meant alot to the church, but he could tell their were aspects of the sotry that didn’t fit the narrative. his mother would grimace and shake her head anytime anton tried to dig deeper. there was still a red stain in the carpet of the nave, where it seeped through and painted the wood crimson. anton imagined his mother’s frightened face—he’s now the same age she was when she gave birth for her entire world to see.

the more gaps in the story that were filled the more anton felt sympathy for his mother. he was always a dutiful son and loyal member to the church. he never complained about having to go into the woods during his birthday weekend. but when he realized what it took from his mother every year he started making the effort to vocalize how grateful he was. he was the first one to offer up his skills in fishing and led prayer. he listened to the prayers of people who still remembered that anton was a gift from god.

anton was twenty now and this trip was different. he was truly grateful beaming like the same light that shined down on his mother. he was grateful because he got to break bread with you, even if you sat on the opposite end of the table. he stole glances at you over the plates of fish and fruit, and raised the blood of christ in your direction. the fear of being caught again should’ve taught you two a lesson. a random face in the crowd whispered to anton after the night in the parking lot, saying that she knew what had happened.

“cursed for the same fate like your mother.” she sneered.

the blood drained from anton’s face when hearing her words. you were there behind him, backing his voice the same way you did when performing for the church. you came to his defense, puffing your chest and shaking your head.

denial fell from your lips quickly, and anton blindly corroborated. your words were confident but anton could see the tremor in your hands and the way your pupils shook. you were both lucky that the woman was silenced, saying something along the lines that she will be held in the good graces of anton’s parents from now on.

a week had passed and you two haven’t let yourselves be in the same room together since. it was a test for the both of you, about temptation and if the chance of getting caught was worth it. anton learned that he didn’t care, and that you cared even less.

there were short moments in the days leading up to the retreat. anton following you as you passed him in the hallway, slipping notes when you would join hands to sing hymns. anton barely got the chance to touch you anymore and it had an effect on him. anton would usually be able to hold his wants at bay, but lack of contact made him desperate. a simple look from you sat at the forefront of his mind. he spent the rest of the day finding your name in hymns and the separate letters that spelled your name in the bible.

he would never tell you, but at his lowest he went into the confessional booth alone and thought of you. in the darkness of the booth he could see the last night you spent together. in the shadows he was able to project the image of his car windows fogging and the way it rocked back and forth. when anton remembered your clammy hand pressed on his broad chest he couldn’t stop his own hand. he touched himself in the cramped space of the booth. his knees pressed to the wooden walls, with so much force that they creaked. the sound drowned out his grunts and the wet sound of him fucking his hand. he imagine you on your knees in front of him in prayer when he made a mess over his knuckles and slacks. he slumped in the booth, looking through the small holes trying to come to terms with what he had done. anton was able to rationalize his actions—it was easy to ask for forgiveness when he was already here.

“forgive me father for i have sinned.” anton said quietly to himself.

he had gotten too used to saying that phrase. he had to say it nearly every night leading up to the trip. he couldn’t keep his hands off himself when he thought of you. the problem only compounded while being here. he was alone in his cabin, the one single gift he got for his birthday. while he was alone, he got the chance to do anything he wanted. he spent that time thinking of you, and what he would do to you when you got the chance to finally be together again.

anton laid on his duvet in only his boxers. he stared at the fan above him, how it did slow revolutions. anton barely felt air circulating in the room even though the room felt like it was closing in on him. trying to control his breath didn’t work, the harder he tried the more desperate he became. he could almost hear your breathy moans as he pinched the fabric of his boxers in his hand. he unnecessarily teased himself the whole trip. he had worked himself up the whole trip as some sort of punishment. anton only had to touch his thigh lightly to have his dick twitching in his underwear. the tent in his pants obstructed his vision when he looked down, and if he stared at it for too long he would twitch again.

anton had almost given in when he heard a rock tap on his window. he was so inside of his mind that he didn’t hear what was going on around him. he could only hear your voice and see your face. he imagined you crawling up his body, your weight causing craters in the mattress that caused his body to lean. anton could barely move in this position, only breathe heavily as the vision of your face got closer and closer to his. when your lips ghosted over his the sound of a tiny pebble was heard again.

anton shot up in his bed, pulled from his trance. he could feel the precum seeping through the cotton of his underwear and his body already felt weak. he had half a mind when the tiny sound filled his room again. his head found the sound, and he grabbed a folded blanket off his bed to hide his weakness for you as he got off the bed.

timid steps took him to his cabin window, and he could see you on the other side of the glass. the blanket was forgotten on the ground as anton lifted his window. anton didn’t hesitate to take out the screen of the window so he could fully lean part of his body out. he should’ve looked from side to side quickly to check that you weren’t followed, but he only saw you.

“what are you doing here?” anton whispered.

you smiled before walking closer to his window.

“it’s your birthday.” you said simply.

anton nodded, still looking at you. you got on your tiptoes, and anton leaned so far down that your foreheads touched.

“can i come inside?” you asked.

any part of anton that would’ve denied had left him a long time ago. all that was left was you in his mind, and how you looked up at him from your position outside. he nodded and reached his hands out to grab yours. when your hold on his hands was tight enough he used a portion of his strength to help you through the open space in his window.

you didn’t need his help. you cleared most of the way, but you couldn’t stop yourself from stumbling trying to regain your balance. anton held you close, stumbling with you until you both steadied. he had your arms pressed to your chest, constricting you in a way that left you looking up to him helplessly. anton could tell you felt all of him when your eyes widened and your nails dug into your palm. you took a glance down. past the place where your two bodies touched antons hard dick pressed into your torso.

“did you miss me?” you asked.

“breaking bread with you wasn’t enough.” anton said quietly.

“are you giving into temptation?” you ask, tilting your head.

your words are playful as your eyes drift to anton’s lips. he is serious when he speaks, pulling you closer into him.

“can you feel it?” anton whispers.

you nod your head, and quickly peer behind anton to find the bed. the walk back to the bed is slow. neither of you kiss, only breathe in heavily as you find your footing.

by the time you both find it there’s no use. the back of anton’s legs hit the soft edges of his mattress, causing him to fall backwards. you stay upright, and your eyes stay on the tent still in anton’s pants. he lets you feast on him as he backs up further on the bed, until he can lay his full body down comfortably.

anton watches you get undressed at the foot of his bed. you take off each article of clothing slowly, your pants pool at your ankles and you toss your shirt to anton. he grabs it and brings it to his face, breathing in all he can take. you watch mesmerized on the other end, mouth agape when he thrusts upwards into nothing. anton’s cheeks turn rosy but he is not embarrassed. he continues to let his hips jerk and his dick twitch. you both break bread for the second time that night, feeding off eachother’s reactions.

when you can’t take it anymore, you crawl onto the bed. the same way in anton’s visions, a grueling slow pace where your body is almost touching his. anton forces himself to be still. not only does he have to be ready to take whatever you give him, but he is also afraid if he moves too much the cliff he’s balancing on will disappear underneath his feet. so he stays still as your eyes travel from the tent in his pants to the hair on his head.

you were on your knees beside anton’s body, leaned over until your clothed chest touched his. anton felt one of your hands start at his knuckles, freeing his hand from the hold it had on his boxers. you place his palms facing upright. anton slightly shook his head—he was not strong enough to be so vulnerable in his sensitive state underneath you. you nodded your head and pressed your wet lips to his ear.

“i will never leave you nor forsake you.” you whispered.

anton took a deep breath, swallowing his pride and kept his palms facing towards the ceiling.

“you are blessed.” you said underneath your breath.

this is when anton nods in agreement. the way you touch his palm and drag your hand up his arm makes anton think he is favored by something bigger than himself. when your hand glides across his collarbones and up his neck anton’s hand snaps to grab you at your elbow. the sudden movement causes you to pause, and you look down at him. anton’s eyes feel wet as he looks up at you. his dick twitches and he can feel it getting even harder. the tent in his pants moves as his heavy dick slaps against his stomach. the thought of you touching him fills his mind, so much that anton has the urge to flip you over.

“it’s been so long.” anton chokes out.

you nod and grab his hand that rests on the bed. you look down between your two bodies, looking past his dick that weeps for your attention to find his hand. you lift it slowly, until anton’s palm cups your heat. you sigh heavily and he indulges himself for a second, pressing a finger to your panties to feel the wet spot. you close your eyes briefly and press your forehead against anton’s.

“i waited for you for years, so why do i feel like this after a week?” you ask.

anton can’t bring himself to mention sin at a time like this. he had built an understanding that sin was just a reworked virtue. lust was a product of his never ending love and his need to please you. it was a gift to be with you, and lust helped him explore aspects of your union in the private spaces you two created. so anton lets of a breath and guides your hand to his heavy dick. it twitches upwards, looking for your warmth before you can even touch him. when you grab his length with conviction over the fabric of his boxers anton thrusts into your fist. his free hand guides one of your legs over his body. once you straddle him you let your body rest into him fully. you pull your hand away from his dick to replace it with your clothed heat.

“you can feel all of me soon.” you say quickly.

“i can’t wait any longer.” anton whimpers.

anton’s hand was still selfishly placed on your center. he worked his way up, until it was just a singular finger pressing slightly into your clit. all of his restraint went into not rubbing revolutions on the sensitive bundle of nerves. but anton knew you well enough to know that giving you a inch made you take a mile. he knew that you would be trying your best to chance after the dull sensation of a finger pressed to your clit that it would drive you to rut your hips into his.

anton responded just as desperate, chasing the feeling of his stiff dick having nowhere to go. he wanted to feel you wrapped around him while he got lost in the halls of your labyrinth. but anton didn’t want to stop seeing your chest jump in the confines of your bra while you pressed your hips into his with a reckless abandon.

“i’ll make this your best birthday.” you gasp.

your breathing started to become heavy and anton was reduced to actions. he nodded, showing you how grateful he was for you but moved a hand to your ass to press you on his dick. he needed more so much more that he would bare the burden to cum in his pants like he had never been touch before. all he needed you to do was keep swiveling your hips and place wet kisses on his face.

anton was thankful you knew what he needed. the way you always took care of him made a stone form in his throat. when you kissed his jawline anton couldn’t hold back.

“i’m sorry. i can’t wait any longer.” he whimpered.

you only continued moving your hips the same way, feeling your slick and anton’s precum mix on the fabric of your underwear.

“don’t be sorry.” you said clearly.

you kissed his forehead and pulled him up, so you guys were both sitting upwards on the bed. the position change confused anton, but you started leading him. you alternated between bounding and grinding on his dick, and anton’s hands on your side helped you with how much pressure he needed. anton’s held tilted back, and he focused on the fans slow moving blades. your quiet moans were gentle like the air circulating in his room, and the gentle bed creaks put anton in a trance.

your hand on his face brought anton back to reality. he had you on top of him, and your eyebrows were knit the same way they were when you were trying to read latin. your mouth opened and anton took it as an invitation to place his lips on yours.

he could only slip his tongue into your mouth for a second before he felt the coil in the pit of his stomach wind again. he pulled away from you as it twisted all around his body, and he pulled you in when it snapped. anton felt his heavy dick strain against the fabric as he whimpered into the crook of your neck. you moaned while still riding him, and a pulling hand in anton’s hair prolonged the feeling across his body.

“i love you.” anton muttered over and over again.

“i love you too.” you mumbled back.

you followed shortly after him, pulling away so you could rest your hands on anton’s calves. he watched your abs flex as you continued to swivel your hips. all anton had to do was press that same finger to your clit to make you freeze. the wet spot on your panties from anton’s cum became darker as your legs shook around him. your eyes screwed shut and you instinctually turned your head away from anton to bite down on your shoulder. it kept you quiet enough to avoid the walls that had ears.

“my angel.” anton cooed.

you could only whine in response, and shake your head when anton teased you over your underwear. you pushed him back onto the bed, and you let all of your body weight rest on anton’s chest. you could feel his dick soften between your two bodies. when the cold wetness of your underwear made you shift, anton kept you pressed to his chest with a strong arm on your back.

anton laid with you until sunday came. both of you were so tired, so spent from time apart that you laid together in silence. you both watched to fan slowly rotate in the darkness until it was illuminated in the morning light. you left, this time through the front door and after kissing anton for every year he’s blessed the earth.

#requestz #seriez: sacrilegious #seriez: understanding my faith #01zfan: anton #anton smut #riize smut

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cod-sins · 9 months

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𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

.ೃ࿐ Ratings: SFW

.ೃ࿐ Reader: Undisclosed

[A/N: I didn't proofread this so if you see a mistake no you did not.]

[Edit: I can't seem to add a read more option fellow mobile users I am so sorry]

𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 ‣. I see König standing at a whopping 6'10 (because I say so) meaning he's a big guy. He has trouble finding clothes that fit his size (especially pants). He gets alot of his civilian clothes tailored or he just has his Oma [ :')] do it for him. I imagine he wears a size 49 in European shoes (16 for Americans) and he prefers boots and sneakers instead of sandals and loafers. His usual outfits include plain colored tees, a jacket (usually dark colors; black, navy blue, hunter green), sweatpants [show off that dickprint] and combat boots. König doesn't wear his hood out in public, so he settles for black or blue surgical masks. He doesn't want to draw anymore attention to himself so dressing casual is his way to go. He's got big meaty thighs and hard abs with a sharp prominent v-line (mwah) to tie it all together.

‣. König has a cleft lip! It's on the right side of his mouth, he hated it as a child but grew up to realize it was apart of him. He has scars on his forearm from a hostile trying to slash him. They run deep and it was a pretty painful experience for him (he hates talking about it and he tries to wear long sleeved clothes but sometimes the weather ends up winning). He also has a bullet scar on his thigh as well. He keeps his nails short except one or two just in case he needs to pick something or scratch. I imagine his hair to be a soft strawberry blonde color. Something like this, this, and this. Because of the military he keeps it very short but he likes when his s/o styles it around. It looks similar to these styles. Despite what canon says I say his eyes are deep green.

‣. König is a Libra! His birthdate is August 22, 1995! [I know Libra's aren't born in August but for the sake of fanfiction shhhh let's pretend it is!] Making König 27 years old; He's very mature for his age!

𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈 ‣. König suffered from anxiety/social anxiety since he was 17 and still suffers till this day just not as much. He's able to turn it off in the field but once he's on leave and is around other civilians it comes crawling back. It has stopped him from making friends, hanging out with his fellow soldiers and even dating. He's still a virgin because of this (and because of work and him finding the right person but that's a later issue). However once you get past that shy exterior he's pretty cocky. He's proud of the fact that he is a colonel and he enjoys secretly flexing on his s/o. "Ja, I took down a group of terrorists and saved all the hostages by myself. No big deal (👀)." He's one of those quiet people who talks alot of shit in their head and sends side eyes instead of starting shit.

‣. König is relatively good at hiding his anger, especially since he wears that mask 24/7. He'll quietly brood in the corner--arms crossed giving off an aura that spooks the new recruits. He's very quiet not speaking unless spoken too or if he needs something. König is so sarcastic! He'll roll his eyes (secretly) or mumble smart comments under his breath––mocking whatever superior that pissed him off. If you're close to you him you'll notice when he's happy. He has a slight bounce in step and he walks with his chest puffed up proudly. It's a real cute sight honestly.

𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 ‣. König's favorite colors are earthy tones. He likes dark woodsy green, russet and navy blue. I imagine he loves the ocean and water. Especially creeks! Winter may not be his favorite season but he loves hiking through the snow in his hometown's nature trails. He enjoys hearing the sound of the snow and dead leaves crunch under his footsteps. Speaking of hometown his favorite dishes are things like beef stew or anything meaty and hearty. He really likes homemade jams and jellys. He prefers going to the farmers market and picking up his fruits and vegetables fresh.

‣.This man's house is HUGE. It would look maybe something like this. It's super spacious with a few spare rooms for guests. König showers more than he bathes. He's legs are too long to fit which makes him have to awkwardly scrunch himself up. He isn't around much because of his work so he never took to the time to properly decorate. If you're his s/o he gives you permission to decorate. Make it look really pretty for him please. He lives somewhere a little distant from the city; closer to the country but not too far. He still wants to be close to local shopping markets.

‣.I think König would prefer a fat/chubby partner over a thinner partner. He enjoys grabbing onto their body, holding them closely feeling the warmth radiate from their body. I see him liking a partner who is quiet. Not as quiet as him because he likes when your chatter fills the silence. But someone who's able to relax and enjoy the ambience of their surroundings. Someone who is able to point out the little details in things. He wouldn't mind an outgoing s/o, someone who speaks for him when he doesn't feel verbal that day.

König was once stationed by an ocean for half a year and it was the best moments of his life. It was so calming for him. Every night he could hear the waves gently crashing against each other it always soothed him. It was favorite lullaby (after the one his mom sings).

König always has his hands held behind his back or he holds them in the front. He enjoys grabbing parts of himself it helps keep him stable and grounded. He also fiddles alot. Like he constantly stretches and wiggles his fingers. Or he lightly traces his thighs up and down with his fingers.

One of his favorite genres of music is Electro Swing. His favorite band is Caravan Palace. He loves all their albums.

100% picks people up. If you're his s/o and you're in his way he's grabbing you by the waist and gently moving you over. If you're on the battlefield god knows he's treating you like a football; bro is slugging you over his shoulder if you get injured or he's tackling you down to protect you from grenades.

If he's stutters too much in a sentence he gets really mad. He doesn't find it funny when people mock his accent. Also!! There are certain English words that König just doesn't know. He's fluent in English and can write well but there are times he gets stuck on words he doesn't recognize.

Has a thing for chubby cheeks. Also really likes chubby fingers. If you have fat fingers please give him a massage, he would love it so much. It's such a nice contrast too; his rough calloused hands compared to your soft round ones.

Looves chocolate. Especially dark chocolate, he really enjoys candy bars with nuts and toffee in them. He adores American super-sized candy bars. He also really likes twizzlers and licorice.

He doesn't outwardly smoke but if you offer he won't refuse. He's makes sure not to make it a habit (his grandmother was very upset when she caught him smoking once), he'd rather die by a bullet than slowly kill himself.

I know I said he's 27 but I imagine him to be 35 in canon.

NATURE LOVER! Bro is enamored by the beauty of his home country. He loves observing the wildlife on walks. He has a journal where he keeps different leaves from different places he was stationed at.

Good friends with Horangi. Not like BFFS (they are) but they're drinking buddies. Horangi helps König with his social anxiety and König helps Horangi not fall back into gambling.

König's favorite meat ever is lamb. He fucking loves a tender lamb roast. Gets annoyed as hell when the meat get stuck between his gums but he thinks it's worth it for the delicious food.

Pretty particular about his beers, he doesn't drink anything he's a man of class! He'll go on this super long lecture about how German brewing is so much better than other countries and that non-German beer/alcohol can't compete. Him and Soap got into an argument about this.

He keeps his area as tidy as possible. He isn't a slob but isn't a complete neat freak. If he has a bunch of random items out he'll try and keep them in a organized pile.

Sometimes he leaves his guns out around his house.

Lowkey likes being needed. There are times when his fellow soldiers ask him for help carrying extra stuff or when children or the elderly ask him to reach stuff off the top shelves. Especially likes when his s/o ask him to carry them. He'll start to puff his chest out and walk around with a dumb grin under his mask.

Type of guy to see people down an asle and wait for them to move instead of saying excuse me. [Projecting fr fr]

A real crafty individual, his hood is just a tee-shirt with holes in it. His helmet is literally a bicycle helmet he modded with military gear. König knows how to sew and he can tailor a little. He prefers taking his clothes to a seamstress or tailor because his hands are very big and sewing can a take a long time and he doesn't have that much patience for it.

He LOVED arts and crafts as a child. He would make so much shit to bring him to his mom and grandma. His grandmother still has his things till this day.

His favorite English speaking bands would be The Smiths, Boâ and The Cranberries. He likes to quietly sing to himself it makes him happy. He also enjoys 70-80s music. I also think he likes the sound of nu metal/rock instrumentals.

If he had an s/o he would love to dance with them. He would/could never dance in public but behind closed doors god knows this man would shimmy with his partner. He doesn't care if you can dance well because he can't dance well, he just wants to let loose and have fun with you.

Broke a guy's ribcage once. It was during sparring and König was pretty pissed with the man because he did something cocky and stupid that caused them the life of another soldier. He didn't receive proper punishment because they successfully completed the mission but König decided he should deal his own form of justice. By putting so much pressure on his chest until he heard a satisfying crack sound.

I think he likes apple cider.

He was raised by his mother and grandmother so he has a softer spot towards woman. He enjoys being in their company.

Smells like one of those fireplace candles or something with sandlewood and cinnamon. On the battlefield thought he reeks of blood, sweat and gunpowder.

Absolutely hates when there is dirt under his nails (or anyone else's). He thinks it looks so gross it makes him wanna vomit.

His favorite animal is probably either a bear or fox. He also likes pigs, he thinks the little piglets are so cute.

König is texter not a caller. He'll send his s/o paragraphs of texts instead of small individual ones because he thinks the notifications would be annoying and the last thing he wants to be is annoying (please convince him he's not).

He always plans out conversations in his head. Before going to check-out he's going through a mental rundown of what the total is gonna be, how he's gonna pay and what the cashier is going to say. Being in the military lowkey made this worse. He's always over analyzing conversations because he's afraid of messing up and embarrassing himself.

He likes drama movies and psychological horror. Midsommar is one of his favorite horror movies.

König has stretch marks on his thighs and legs and a little on his stomach. His growth spurt was crazy as a child.

Requests: OPEN

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

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a-d-nox · 1 year

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web of wyrd: the left most number, your mask / public energy

wyrd (pronounced weird) is a germanic word that is associated with fate - so this is is not just "wyrd" - it's also uncannily your fate or destiny. this seems to be the new thing, so i too want to step in because the numbers are associated to the major arcana of tarot and i do read tarot sooooo - if the shoe fits wear it!

we are going to go number by number together - we are going to learn together!

click here to calculate yours!

today i want to address the left most number.

this is my wyrd web. so it is based on my birthdate (27.10.2000 - october 27th, 2000).

the number we are focusing on today is based on the DAY you were born.

if you were born july 4th - it would be 4. if you were born april 22nd - it was be 22. but any date after the 22nd (i.e. 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, etc) needs to be summed together (my birthday for example: 27 -> 2 + 7 = 9 (the number in my left most bubble))!

but what does this number mean?

this number represents how others see you. not necessarily how you see you, but how the public perceives you. this is your face (or mask - aka persona) that you intentionally or unintentionally present to the world! there at evolved (higher vibrations of the major arcana card or the upright) and un-evolved (lower vibrations of the major arcana card or the reversal) numbers.

so let's talk about some examples:

9 - the hermit

rider waite smith illustrated the hermit (the card that symbolizes virgo) as a wise, old man dressed in gray. he holds his walking stick (possibly alluding to the suit of wands (the symbol of fire / fire signs, passion, creativity, ambition, and action)) to his head (if it is the suit of wands than this indicates an individual with a creative, passionate mind who has used their ambition to discover more about themselves). he holds a lit lantern towards the left side of the card (the past) and faces that direction as well (indicating that knows himself well as the lantern is shining a light on his past).

evolved 9s explore / learn from their inner realm and work through their past instead of dwelling in it. these people appear as wise and self-knowing. they set boundaries with those around them in a mindful manner. they know when to take a break and recharge in a social setting as most tend to be introverts. they do a lot of soul searching as to what they are and are not comfortable with and express these things to those around them - they do the inner work or "shadow work" necessary to living a full and happy life.

un-evolved 9s may not recognize the difference between alone and lonely or even solitude and alone. they often fear being alone (they may not wish to learn who they are as an individual) and don't know how to take a moment when they need it. they snap or become to critical of those around them in these circumstances - ironically they are critical of everyone around them but haven't taken the time to critically examine themselves. they may conversely isolate from those around them despite longing for support and connections with others. they may fear getting to know who they themselves are.

20 - judgement

rider waite smith illustrated judgement (the card associated with pluto) as an angel facing the viewer (this is a confrontational, present-oriented card) from a clouded sky blowing (air motif) a trumpet as people emerge from their caskets to face the angel (their backs face the viewer meaning to show vulnerability). these nude people (natural and comfortably exposed) are freeing themselves from a previously uncomfortable, cramped situation in order to see and hear the heralding angel. these people are reaching arms open wide ready to receive the angel - this is a card associated with a spiritual awakening.

evolved 20s no longer judge themselves too severely; they are comfortable with their bodies and accepting of their previous actions, choices, and experiences. they too are ready to leave the previous confines of their past (as the nude people do in the card imagery). they welcome new experiences and the future with excitement and glee. they are on a high frequency as they recognize their higher calling. they receive frequent communication and confirm from the universe / their spirit team. they let go of the past to embrace the future.

un-evolved 20s experience the same things over and over again. they struggle to get out of loops/patterns as they struggle to learn the important lessons that life wishes them to. they judge themselves harshly and are extremely critical of the work they do. they cling to what they know though they feel trapped/oppressed in their present circumstances. they don't notice the signs they are receiving from the world around them. they fear change and growth.

22 - the fool

there is no 0 card in the wyrd web as there is in tarot, so the fool takes on the 22nd number manifestation in the web even though it is the 1st card of the major arcana. rider waite smith illustrated the fool (the card associated with uranus) as a young man wearing a boldly patterned outfit. the young man parallels the hermit as the mountain range featured in the hermit card appears in the background of the fool card and the fool carries a stick (read the description of the walking stick in the "9 - the hermit" section above). on his stick is a small bundle likely filled with his essentials to life so he is prepared to start a journey... right off the edge of the cliff. also present in the card is the sun (enthusiasm and clarity) on the right (the future), a white rose (innocence and free) held off to the right along with his bundle, and a small white dog (the dog is prancing meaning to signal him of the cliff edge thus is a symbol of intuition) at his feet. the fool faces the left thus he has to first explore what is in his past (hermit energy), before leaping into his future, where all the fortunate elements lie (the bundle (worldly possessions), the flower (innocence and freedom), the dog (intuition), and the sun (positivity and clarity).

evolved 22s are always ready to explore the world around them - be it via their physical, spiritual, mental, and/or emotional realm. they trust they are on the right path and trust in the universe to not steer them wrong as they explore. they enjoy taking risks and taking big leaps - they do not fear "obstacles" or "setbacks". these are mere lessons to learn and experiences to gain. they are in tune with their guides and listen to those with messages as they consciously make their own path and explore it mindfully.

un-evolved 22s haphazardly take risks or are too afraid to take any - without risk they gain no reward, they feel stagnant in their journey. they fear change and hesitate when step even toeing the line out of their comfort zone. they make plans but never execute them. obstacles are treated as life inconveniences. they are often too afraid to experience life or explore the world around them - they often stick to what they know and remained tied to their past.

that's all for today! the next number we will be looking at is that top most number, your higher self.

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my "suggest a post topic" button if you want to see a specific pac/pile next! if you'd like my input on how i read a specific card or what i like to ask my deck, feel free to use the ask button for that as well.

click here for the masterlist

click here for more web of wyrd related posts

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

#web of wyrd #matrix of fate #matrix of destiny #intuitive readings #intuitive #intuition #numerology #tarot deck #tarot reading #tarotscope #tarot cards #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #free tarot #tarot witch #tarot #hermit #judgement #the fool

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pupkashi · 6 months

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birthdays

nanami makes your birthday a bit cozier than previous years

a/n: hi friends ! thank u anon for this request I’m so sorry for taking so long to get to it :( happy belated birthday friend, wishing you a years worth of love and warmth !

wordcount: 1,610

masterlist

11:59 pm

you used to expect a roll of messages or phone calls as the clock struck midnight, your birthdate reading across the screen and a smile on your face.

you tried to act like you didn’t care, keeping your mind off the day and keeping your eyes glued to the tv screen, a random movie playing with the plot lost long ago along with your interest.

your fingers itched to grab your phone, hoping the reason for its silence was because it was on do not disturb, not a lack of messages.

the clock on the nightstand read 12:01, and against your better judgement you grabbed your phone, swiping up. you could feel your fingers running cold and your nose and eyes burning as the tears formed in your eyes.

1 notification: light rain expected soon

there’s a stinging sensation in your chest, and you don’t bother fighting the choked sob that leaves your lips, hot tears streaming down your face.

throwing your phone down haphazardly, turning the tv off and burying your face in your pillow.

you’re not sure when you fell asleep, but you’re waking up to the blinds cracked open and warm sunshine on your face.

the flowers on the nightstand make your hazy mind clear a bit, rubbing your eyes and reaching for the small note accompanying the beautiful flowers.

hoping you make it around the sun many more times by my side <3

happy birthday, my love

there’s tears in your eyes, a small smile on your lips and a giggle slipping past your lips. you don’t have much time to do much of anything when the bedroom door creaks open.

“good morning,” nanami smiles, his hair still a bit messy, shirt slightly unbuttoned and tie long gone. he sets the plate of food on the nightstand, leaning down and catching your lips in his. “sleep well? feeling older?”

you can’t help but smile a bit, “not as old as you,” you hum, grabbing his collar and pressing another kiss to his lips. nanami smiles against your lips, slipping his hand under your chin, smiling as he pulls away.

“did you like the flowers?” he asks, “it’s the same bouquet you saw online a couple weeks ago,” he reminds you, watching as your eyes light up.

“oh my god it is!” you gasp, looking at the flowers and smiling even wider, “you’re too good to me baby,” you mumble, pulling him down to sit next to you.

“I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you,” he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss on your temple, “how about you eat up and get ready for the day, yeah?”

you nod, a dazed smile on your face as you watch him get up, setting the food on your lap before walking out of the bedroom.

when you leave the bedroom he’s quick to take the empty plates from your hands, setting them in the sink and washing them. you take a seat across the bar, elbows on the counter and your chin in your hands.

“any plans today?” he asks, setting the plates in the drying rack before wiping his hands.

“no, was just gonna stay in,” you trail off, “thought you were gonna be busy today,” the admission has your cheeks burning as kento looks at you in shock.

“you thought i would go to work on your day?” he chuckles softly making his way to you and wrapping his arms around you, making you lean forward in your seat bit.

“what do you say i go shower then we can crawl back into bed and cuddle?” he suggests, watching the way your smile grows as he continues talking, “we can watch that new movie that came out too.”

kento is off to the shower quickly, smiling to himself when he hears your giggles coming outside the bathroom. by the time he’s out you’re cozied up in bed, blankets wrapped around you and a smile on your face.

you’re only left alone when he goes to pick up dinner, settling on ordering in at your request. it’s only then that you check your phone again, replying to the couple messages you’ve received and thanking your friends.

it doesn’t take too long for nanami to get back home, calling his usual, ‘im home!’ as he looks for you. “my love?”

“i thought you went for the food?” you asked, confused when you see his hands and the table both empty.

“i got called and I’ve gotta go pick something up, do you wanna come?” he asks, heart pounding in his chest as he hopes his plan will go smoothly.

“yeah why not,” you smile, heading to the bedroom and changing into something a bit more presentable, slipping on your shoes as the two of you head out the door.

it’s not until 7 minutes into the drive when you see a familiar park come into view, watching as he turns into the parking lot.

“what do you need to pick up at a park?” you laugh, watching as he gets out of the car and walks over to open the door for you, taking your hand and helping you out.

“some cursed object gojo wants me to get,” he mumbles, intertwining his fingers in yours, pulling you along.

you don’t question it, following your lover, your steps only faltering when the small gazebo comes into view, set up with flowers, fruits, drinks and candles.

“ken- wait- hold on,” you smile, your hand slipping out of his and flying over your mouth.

“cmon doll,” he smiles, hand softly gripping your wrist and pulling you towards the set up. “sit here,” he mumbles, smiling as he pulls a cake out from a small box, sticking the candles in and quickly lighting them.

happy y/n day ! ♡

“happy birthday to you..” he sings, chuckling when you roll your eyes, sitting in front of the cake and swaying along to the melody. “happy birthday, honey.”

there’s nothing on your mind as you blow out the candles, eyes fluttering open and landing on all you’ve ever wanted.

“why are you looking at me like that?” he laughs, leaning over and taking the candle out of the cake.

“no reason, just really love you,” you giggle, only tearing your eyes off him when you hear your phone ringing.

“happy birthday y/n!” the four loud voices make you jump a bit, smiling widely as you register everyone on the other end of the phone. “we hope nanamin gives you the present we picked out!”

“it was all my idea by the way,” nobara calls out, you can hear some grumbling and a small ‘that’s a lie’ coming from who you assume is megumi.

“hope we aren’t too late, the kids took longer i thought they would on a mission,” satoru snickers, you laugh as you hear the three students begin to gang up on him.

“never too late, thank you guys,” you grin, chatting for a couple more minutes before saying goodbye.

kento looks at you with a small smile on his face, placing a couple presents in front of you, “i know you said you didnt want anything but i had to get you something,” he protests, “and plus this one’s from gojo and the students.”

every gift seems more perfect than the next, things you’d wanted that you’d forgotten about, meaningful little trinkets and gift cards to all your favorite places.

“thank you, hun” you smile, wrapping your arms around him and peppering kisses on his cheeks.

“don’t thank me, it’s what you deserve baby,” he mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling back swiftly, “now let’s eat before this food gets cold, yeah?”

kento sits across from you, soft laughter coming from the decorated gazebo as the sun sets, gold rays on lights hitting both of you as you continue with easy conversation.

it’s dark by the time the two of you finish eating and talking, nanami cleaning up the area and packing up any leftovers, rushing to the car and putting them away, coming back with a blanket in his arms.

“are we sleeping out here?” you tease, watching as he rolls his eyes, motioning you over as he lays the blanket over the grass, smoothing it out and sitting down.

“come,” he grins, blonde hair a bit messy thanks to the slight breeze. you can’t help the butterflies in your stomach, walking over and taking a seat next to him, cuddling into his side immediately.

“the moon looks beautiful tonight,” he whispers, the two of you staring up at the night sky, though a bit cloudy, the stars still managed to shine down on the two of you.

“must be the universe telling me happy birthday,” you smile, giggling when he chuckles at your words.

“must be,” he smiles, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head, eyes fluttering closed as he savors every moment with you.

“happy birthday, lover,” he mumbles, lips still slightly pressed against your hair, moving away only to press another kiss to your cheek.

“thank you ken, really this meant so much to me,” you sigh happily, turning your head to face him, your hand resting softly on his cheek before catching his lips in yours.

the park is quiet, only the sound of the occasional rustling of trees, occasional bird chirp and yours and kento’s laughter.

and as the moon and it’s stars shine down on the two of you, there’s a warmth in your chest and a comforting feeling that settles around your heart. you wouldn’t have to worry about being lonely on your birthday, not anymore.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru

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lotusmi · 1 year

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hey lotus!! I have a success story^^

I’ve been in the LOA community for 4 years now and i got no results for 4 years because i switched from the victim state to “oh i’m just taking a break” all the time. Or I just gave up cause I used to be impatient. I always gave sub users the fault that I didnt got results. I never send bad comments ofc not but in my head I was like wow they’re all lying.

Last week I actually I was so tired of that concept that I decided to actually stary doing smth for what I want. To keep me motivated cause I’m impatient as I said I read success storys and LOA posts(I didnt read them for comformation just because It kept me motivated). Yesterday I woke up with my results!!

Here is what I manifested;

desired face

desired age/birthdate/birthplace

desired family

grewing up in desired country

being fluent in 4 languages

desired body

living in desired country

desired school life and now being in my desired university

having an older brother(i used to be and only child)

being a member of a known kpop group

a bf who works in the same company as me

& some more things

Honestly It was so easy😭 I literally wanna kick my butt cause i was procrastinating for 4 YEARS???

SUCCESS STORY!!💌💕

Hii angel!!! ^^

Omgg 4 yeaaarss?? The way it was so easy and in one week you got everything you wanted for FOUR years omg my love!! I am so pround of you and so happy for you! 😭 you deserve this sooo much my angel, this is amazinggg!!!

Also everything you manifested is sooo cool and It looks you will have sooo much fun now on!! Keep me updated with all your wonderful adventures!! 💗💞💕 i wish you all the best in your life and again, congrats!! You deserve this so much and you are so powerful and strong!! 💌

Tysm for sharing your amazing story, I know you will inspire a lot of people, angel. 💌💗

#Lotuses success #law of assumption #neville goddard #manifesting #living in the end #loa blog #loa advice #loatumblr #success story #motivation #god state #successful #void success

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silaswritesthings · 4 months

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MORE SCARA X YANDERE! FEM! READER OLEASE‼️‼️

Summary: You wish you could wish Wanderer a happy birthday but how could you without revealing the extensive research you performed on his background to be able to possess sensitive information such as his birthdate?

Starring: Wanderer/Scaramouche

Genre: Yandere,

Warnings: stalking, reader is a Yandere

Author’s note: i get really happy when i get asks so thank you sm!! I would’ve posted this yesterday but life happens. Enjoy!!

Word count: 1.3k

A good book remains a good book whether it’s displayed before the eyes of the most respected curators of the world or among millions of books in a local library. To you, Wanderer was a good book. He was an arrangement of words and colours, brought together to form his masterpiece that he kept hidden under pages of silence and mystery.

There was nobody who knew of him who felt like they knew enough, and among those people was you; who knew the most about him but not enough. It would never be enough.

“What will it be this time?” Wanderer said from beside you. “Psychology, true crime or crime fiction?”

You wanted to be a bit greedy, to keep him in a decorative box in your room only for your eyes to see. Why? Because Wanderer was beautiful; beautiful in the way he handed you your library books as you checked them out like he was giving you treasures beyond human imagination. He was beautiful in the way he spoke about various things he’s read about, sometimes his voice would lull you into a trance during the entirety of his rants about the lack of historical accuracy in fiction, and you would hang onto every single one of his words until the sudden snap of his fingers bring you back to reality.

He was too perfect, therefore Wanderer was uncontainable. So much that you wished to contain him. For the time being, you could only do that by taking pictures of him while he wasn’t looking.

“Surprise me.” You said after feigning contemplation. You leaned against the shelf behind you and waited to see what he would do next.

He narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“But I want to extend my reading palate.” You challenged. He watched you for a second and another before sighing and asking you to follow him and so you did.

Upon your arrival in another library section, Wanderer had presented you with two recommendations; with one book in each hand he began to explain the contents of both books.

His voice was quiet, as expected since you were in a library, but you did not miss the way his voice would lower whenever someone walked by. You noticed a long time ago that Wanderer was a very private person but you didn't think there was anything wrong with your display of affection, it was only admiring someone with limited boundaries. He did, however, have rather strict boundaries and you knew there must be some you've violated or crossed by now, you've been stalking him… No, you've been watching him. Admiring him. You like him so you're more observant with him than with others, because he's interesting. Is this how he sees it as well?

“The latter sounds very interesting.” You said, after he concluded his explanation, pushing down your moral dilemma. He hummed in acknowledgment and pushed the book against your chest as he walked past you to return to the front of the library, but just before your shoulders brushed he paused, regarding you with a gaze you couldn't perceive.

“Are you free this evening?”

Your heart leaped to your throat and you were unable to think of an appropriate reply; I always have time for you- no, that sounds too desperate. What about ‘time with you is time well spent’- no, that's too artificial!

“Yes- I mean- sure, yeah.” You glared at the ground because your anxiety was very easy to pick up on. Your thoughts shifted from your embarrassment to the pressure on your chest decreasing, Wanderer had let go of the book and was making his way to the front of the library. His ears were bright red and you wished you hadn't forgotten your camera at home that morning.

________

Pictures of Wanderer in various places and scenarios were scattered all over your bedroom walls, each picture was surrounded by at least two sticky notes with your thoughts and observations concerning the picture written down in the neatest handwriting you could muster.

There was the picture of Wanderer when he first started working at the library, his shoulders were sunken as if there was an invisible force weighing him down. The two notes accompanying this picture pointed out how this was a week after he moved here, and the fatui were rumoured to have increased their activity because they were in search of someone.

You scanned a few other shots from that day, the urge to just watch the original surveillance video from the day was difficult to overcome. Not Nearly as difficult as it was to gather all the information you had on Wanderer, from how he had been running from the fatui: a Snezhnayan organisation deeply rooted in the political and economic systems of various nations, to how he was of inazuman origins and closely related to the Raiden Shogun- but you didn't know how. Not yet, at least.

Your wondering thoughts halted when you came across a picture you took the previous week; Wanderer looking directly into the camera with an irritated expression. You couldn’t fight off your smile, it was the first time you had taken a picture of him with his consent and this was progress. You treasured this picture because it was evidence of how far your relationship with him had come. Will he allow you to take more pictures of him like this? Or even better, will he open up to you about his past soon?

Speak of the devil, your phone rang and when the screen flashed on, the caller ID belonged to Wanderer and so you picked up.

“Hello?”

“Is there anything you’re allergic to?” No time for formalities, this was the Wanderer you knew and loved.

“Not any that I know of.”

“Great, then let’s agree to meet in 40 minutes.” Wanderer said, but you knew this was only him being considerate of you- or at least you assumed as much, because you could hear the hum of various conversations in the background. He definitely wasn’t home.

“That’s perfect,” you said, but your voice had quieted as you scanned his pictures in your room. How would he react if he found out about this… quality of yours? Would he be upset? Would he hate you? Those possibilities could scare anyone, but you’ve found yourself being drawn to all of Wanderers reactions whether good or bad. What you really disliked was no reactions from him at all- or perhaps dislike was too strong a word; could you really dislike anything about him?

Your gaze shifted to a picture you contemplated burning because of how terrible it looked, you had taken it in a rush but despite the terrible quality, it grew on you just because it was Wanderer. There was no need for better reasoning, that was more than enough.

Wanderer’s voice had softened when it filtered through the previously quiet line. “What’s on your mind?”

You hummed as you mulled over your response, “I’m just wondering if there was any special reason you wanted to hang out today.” By now, your attention had shifted to the middle of the wall beside your door where you had stuck a note written in bold black letters ‘3rd of Jan’: his birthday. Today. He hadn’t told anyone the real date of his birth, probably because he was trying to hide his previous identity as ‘the balladeer’ but no Information about him would ever be out of reach for you.

“There’s no special reason,” he mumbled. “Just felt like spending time with a friend today.”

The corners of your mouth tilted, his voice had always sounded pretty and no matter how many times you heard it you would never get tired of it.

“Then allow me to get prepared.” You finally said, ignoring the flutter in your chest.

“I trust that you’ll be here on time, 34 minutes left.” His voice was back to being monotone and sarcastic.

This filled you with amusement, and you decided to tease, “You trust me?”

He went quiet for a second and another, then finally he replied. “I always have.” He ended the call.

You held your phone to your chest as you gazed at his pictures again and thought, would he still trust you after seeing your room like this?

It didn’t matter. Even if he didn’t know you knew… Happy birthday, Wanderer <3

#silaswritesthings #silas #genshin impact #genshin x you #wanderer x reader #anemo supremacy #genshin wanderer #happy birthday wanderer!!#genshin impact wanderer #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader

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eye-of-enigmatic-thought · 4 months

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Happy New Year! I hope you all had a good December! These were my contributions to the @welcomehomefanzine winter zine! I managed to do more art this time too! For my contributions I wanted to draw art on various Winter traditions from different cultures, such as also my own! If you decide to colour in any of these, please @ me!!

Also keep in mind, we are not affiliated with Clown or the team behind WH, we are just fans who love the work!!

I wrote more on all the artworks under the cut! Including the traditions they were based on!

First one was a little visual pun on the first verse of '12 Days of Christmas', Poppy is the partridge in the pear tree! Not much to say about this one, it's my only Christmas related thing! Second one was based on the Southern Welsh winter tradition of the Mari Lwyd. The Mari Lwyd is a hobby horse made from a horse's skull and is then decorated. It is puppeteered to go to the doors of various houses where its handlers will sing verses on letting it in to the home, you are supposed to sing back excuses on why you can't let it in, and if you relent, you invite the Mari Lwyd and its handlers in your home, where it will eat your food and alcohol and terrorise your children! The tradition and its true origins and meaning and even etymology is unknown, but it's thought to have ancient Pagan roots! It seems here, Eddie relented in his songs to it and regretted everything immediately after!

Third image is another Poppy centric piece because I love her. Here she is dressed up as a figure from Schnabelperchten! This is a tradition seen only in Rauris Valley in Austria and is a manifestation of Perchta, a goddess from Alpine Paganism that took the form of a old woman who'd punish misbehaving children by slitting their bellies. For Schnabelperchten, on the 5th of January, figures dressed in smocks, jackets, and a beak-like mask will visit various homes to check their upkeep and cleanliness all while emitting a soft 'ga ga ga', in more ancient versions of the legend, if you did not keep your living quarters in good enough conditions, the Schnabelperchten would slit open your belly and dump all the rubbish inside! Poppy would never do that though! No one tell her about that part!! Last but not least is one based on a tradition from my culture! Here you see the entire neighbourhood celebrating Yalda Night and spending time with one anotherThis is a Persian/Iranian festival with Zoroastrian roots held on the Winter Solstice. This day was traditionally seen as ill omened as being the darkest day of the year, the forces of Ahriman and his Deevs were most active, and so much of the day entailed family and friends getting together in good company. They would read stories and poems (especially the Shahnameh or poems by Hafez) with nuts and various fruits from previous harvests being served, watermelon and pomegranates being the most prominent! It was also encouraged to stay well up after midnight lest misfortune befall you! Due to it also being the longest night, it was also seen as the birthdate of the sun deity Mehr (or Mithra), as the subsequent days would get longer.

This was all fun to do and I hope I did all these traditons justice!! I am most likely missing out a lot on my explanations for them, so I hope I at least peaked your interest in these different Winter festivities enough to look into them on your own!

#my art #digital art #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home fanart #frank frankly #wally darling #poppy partridge #barnaby b beagle #eddie dear #sally starlet #julie joyful #welcome home fanzine #yalda night #shabe yalda #schnabelperchten #mari lwyd #howdy pillar

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topshelf2112-blog · 11 months

Text

Fellow enjoyers of suggestive desserts, I decided to translate this part of the episode “Distant Voices.” The actors are at fault for this, bless them. Translations are in bold.

BASHIR: Can I interest you in some more Yigrish cream pie?

May I entice you into eating a suggestive dessert as a prelude to other suggestive things?

 GARAK: No, thank you, Doctor. I'm quite full.

You’re a touch obvious, you know that? As well as obscene. We are in public.

BASHIR: But you've hardly touched your food.

I pay very close attention to you, but only in totally appropriate ways.

GARAK: The truth is, I'm trying to lose a little weight. Hemming women's dresses may provide me with a modest income, but it offers very little in the way of exercise.

Tell me I’m pretty. Also thin.

BASHIR: Well if you like, I can help you set up an exercise programme in one of the holosuites here.

I am using exercise as a euphemism, here, darling. Hint hint.

GARAK: I might just take you up on that. And speaking of holosuites  (Garak takes out an isolinear rod with a ribbon around it and hands it to Bashir.)  GARAK: Happy birthday. I know it's a few days off, but I wanted to give you your present early. It's a Cardassian holosuite programme. An adaptation of one of Shoggoth's enigma tales.

Still in public, silly creature. No, you never told me your birthdate, but you think the spy thing is hot so I figured it out. Also, I refuse to share you with this entire station, so I’m celebrating you today. Speaking of getting up to things in the holosuite…

BASHIR: Is it? I see.

I told you I wanted you to design yourself some lingerie. You’re such a prude.

GARAK: You sound disappointed. I thought you enjoyed mystery novels.

Praise me for my thoughtfulness.

BASHIR: I do. Human mystery novels. The problem with Cardassian enigma tales is that they all end the same way. All the suspects are always guilty.

Lingerie, Garak. You won’t wear it in the holosuite so quit trying to distract me.

GARAK: Yes, but the challenge is determining exactly who is guilty of what. Is Lieutenant Dax throwing one of her surprise parties for you this year?

Jealousy.

BASHIR: Oh, so I'm told.

Come to the party and make out with me, you twit.

GARAK: You don't sound enthusiastic about that either.

Not happening.

BASHIR: It's not that I don't appreciate all the trouble she goes to and everything. It's just that this year is a little different.

Fine. If we aren’t going to discuss lingerie, existential angst it is.

GARAK: How so?

I can win much more easily at this.

BASHIR: This will be my thirtieth birthday.

Isn’t it obvious?

GARAK: And?

I’m older than you. Do be careful, hmm?

BASHIR: Well, in many human cultures, the thirtieth birthday is considered a sort of landmark. It marks the end of youth and the beginning of the slow march into middle age.

Plays: “Will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful?”

GARAK: And that's considered bad?

Augmented does not mean that you exist outside of time, Julian. Honestly.

BASHIR: No. It's just that when you hit thirty, it becomes harder and harder to ignore the passage of time.

Tell me I’m pretty.

GARAK: I wasn't aware that humans saw growing old as a negative experience. On Cardassia, advanced age is seen as a sign of power and dignity.

Hint, hint. I’m hardly advanced, but you’ve secured yourself quite the catch, my dear.

BASHIR: Well I am aware that aging is part of the natural process of life. It's just that I don't want to be reminded of it, that's all. Look, Garak, in two days I turn thirty. If I choose to be grumpy about it, that's my prerogative

(Oblivious) Yes, I am a doctor but I would like to overlook all that biology rubbish.

GARAK: By all means, Doctor, be as grumpy as you like.

I’m feeling a touch cross myself, given that you are missing what’s right in front of you. This is what one gets for dating another species…

BASHIR: Thank you for the support.

What are you cranky about? I’m the one who is fast becoming ancient and undesirable.

QUARK: I hope you'll forgive the interruption.

Fierce and dangerous boyfriend of the idiot, I apologize for butting in.

GARAK: Of course.

At least someone sees my amazing qualities.

QUARK: You know, we just introduced a new lunch menu at the bar.

Can I sell you something? Anything? You’re looking much too thin!

BASHIR: Goodbye, Quark.

GARAK: Don’t take it personally. He’s turning thirty.

Apologies for my young, stupid boyfriend. He gets by on his looks, you know.

#star trek ds9 #julian bashir #elim garak #garak x bashir #garashir #humor

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 2 months

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DAMNN!!!! It makes me sad how Yves probably doesn’t celebrate his birthday because it probably reminds him of how old he has become 😭 But after rereading the birthday ask, I wanna do something for his birthday, like I’d honestly try to throw a little something for him, even if it’s just the two of us. How would he react to that? But then again I doubt he would tell us his birth date and would NEVER tell us the year so celebrating his birthday would probably be next to impossible. But dang I’d feel bad like being with this man a whole year and realizing like Omg I never got Yves anything for his birthday ☹️

Yves may not like to be reminded of his age, but he does love spending time with you. He knew that you would want to do something nice for him on his birthday. In that case, he would drop hints about his very special day.

Valentines Day; would be the day he chose to represent the day he was born. You would perhaps accidentally take a peep at his passport, Identity card or any seemingly valid documents that contained his alleged birthdate.

14th February, and he will be 34 this year.

He loves roses, jewellery, makeup, handbags, heels, heart-shaped novelty gifts and all things romantic. Yves is sure you would find an easier time to obtain them during heartbreak season.

You might be insecure because everything that's at least touching his standards is out of your budget. So you have to rely on creativity.

Of course, nothing is a surprise for Yves. He knows your works in progress, the trips to the photo printing store, the paper basket filled with rejected, crumpled love poem drafts, hours upon hours of perusing through the internet for cute birthday date ideas... your effort in preparing for it was already more than enough to please him.

Yves definitely loves seeing you try for him. To push past your worries and do it anyway, even if you are shaking out of fear from the thought of him being disappointed.

He would subliminally send you a message that it's not material items Yves is after; it's your company. Gifts and romantic gestures are nice bonuses, but not necessary.

But you're so adamant about doing something nice for his special day, and that warms his heart. So he lets you have your fun and healthy stresses on organizing a nice little dinner for him. Although, he will step in if you're pressuring yourself to the point of deterioration.

Comes the day of 'his' birthday, it's 12 in the morning. He's still awake in his office, typing away at his computer. Yves would appreciate it very much if you greeted him with a hug and a kiss, lightly scolding you for staying up so late but thanking you for your attentiveness nonetheless. If you live separately, you can give him a call or a text wishing him a happy birthday, and he will answer or reply immediately without fail. With some nagging that you should have adequate sleep at night. He doesn't hide the delight in his voice or face, though.

If you've been paying attention, the ideal birthday present for him is... you. Yves would very much rather pamper you instead as if it's celebrating yours, cooking up all your favorite meals, bringing you to your favorite places... but alas, it is your turn to spoil him with whatever you have in store.

You spent the last few days practicing how to cook something that you think is 'fancy' and 'expensive'. You emptied your pockets for that week but it was all worth it, you mastered making a dish that you thought Yves would like, you think. A cake you attempted to make from scratch, is obviously not made by a professional, but the love and care are evident.

Assuming you live with him, a perfect window of opportunity presents itself when Yves is suddenly extremely busy with work, so he has to hide himself in the office. You hurried to set up everything, the presents, the dining table, the candles, the food, and the plates. It was such a coincidence, that he's done as soon as you put your final touches on your dishes.

He would appear pleasantly surprised, tilting his head to the side and gracefully concealing the widest smile on his face with his manicured fingers. You can see his eyes glimmering out of joy, which in turn makes you feel proud and giddy as well. For the presentation alone, Yves is already sure to reward you handsomely.

You pulled the chair out for him, and he thanked you as Yves elegantly took a seat.

You sat down opposite of him, face and neck already covered in lipstick prints before even picking up the sleek champagne bottle. He found it adorable, you can barely afford the lower-end ones, yet you still try. He was monitoring your spending behavior and noticed that you're saving excessively for something, he is happy to know that you used it to get something luxurious for him.

His gaze never left yours as he clinked glasses with you.

Yves made sure to praise you for all your hard work, and he is exceptionally giggly today. Not because he thinks your efforts are funny, but because it's quite difficult to contain his admiration and fondness for you. And it is also because of the sight of you being decorated in his lipstick. He genuinely thinks your cooking is delicious, perhaps a tad bit too oily, salty, sweet, or burnt for his taste, or he simply didn't like that particular food. You wouldn't know, because it seems like Yves ate something that was meant for the gods. It was exquisite because it was made by you with loving intent.

Perhaps you're shy, a bit skittish, and blushing. You somehow thought writing romantic poems and reading them out loud for him to hear would be something he would be keen on. And you were absolutely correct. You could cringe at your own voice and work as much as you want, but Yves is cherishing it deeply.

He knows you would stutter when he sensually caressed you on your thigh, he did it anyway to see such a cute reaction from you. Yves would hold onto every word, listening intently and staring at you with such devotion.

Please don't take his peals of laughter at the end as mockery, it was purely out of glee and love for you, the ticklish feeling in his chest needed to escape somehow. Yves would pull you in a tight, but comforting hug, showering you with so much praise and affection, that you would think you're the world's greatest poet.

He would sit on his chair, crossing his legs, and adoringly watched you scramble to show him all your gifts. Predictably, they're all Valentine's Day-themed, rouge and hearts all around, his favorite.

You truly knew how to make him feel like a queen. Bouquets of fragrant roses, chocolates, even handmade crafts that you slaved over for him... they're all priceless and worth much more than anything in the world. He was slow and careful in unwrapping them, Yves everything, down to the strip of tape you used to keep the wrapping paper together, as intact as possible as they're going to be preserved in his compendium.

You gifted him an expensive lipstick in a shade that he would like. Such a wonderfully attentive partner you are, how could you have possibly known that he loves all things lip pigments? He must simply try it, so he did on the spot, using you as his little canvas.

Oh, he loves that hue on you. Yves made sure to test it out a couple more times, on your forehead, cheek, and lips. Yves would twist it back into its container, cap it, and keep it away before finally permitting you to leave his lap.

There's more, you scampered off into the kitchen. Leaving him alone to deal with his high for a while.

You emerged again with a crooked cake. The piping is uneven, it says "Hapy BDay Yves!!!" in crude frosting- you didn't think the spacing through, and hence it was horribly off-centered, and a singular, lit candle is stuck in the eye of the cake. It was perfection.

You watched him quizzingly as his emerald eyes began tearing up, droplets rolling down his cheek as he smiled wide. He daintily patted the tears away with his trembling fingertips, Yves was speechless and incapacitated by his extreme urge to squeeze you, his cuteness and aggression reaching debilitating levels.

He had to expel all that extra energy somehow, so he resorted to crying out of joy. Yves knew what you were about to do, he knew all that was going to happen, but he could never account for the overwhelm he would feel when you do something special like this. It's embarrassing to Yves, but he pushed that feeling aside and thought about how grateful he is to have you instead.

It would take him a couple minutes to compose himself, a handful of deep breaths before he is confident that he wouldn't bite you like a rabid dog.

You invited him to make a wish, and he did so silently, clasping his hands together and closing his eyes. Yves was so earnest and fervent that you would think he was saying a sincere prayer. Whatever he wished for, you notice there is that desperation in him for it to come true.

He cuts it with you, your back pressing against his front as he holds both your hands in his. Guiding the blade through the baked goods.

He asked if you and he could share a slice, and Yves would spoon-feed you and himself using the same utensils. It's much more intimate and romantic that way. And, maybe it would invoke some nostalgia too.

Yves is saving the best parts for you, be it the cherries, chocolate barks, sprinkles, strawberries... it's yours.

You wonder if he is having a fever because the hand that is holding your chin is unusually warm and his face is pink. He watched you with half-lidded eyes which you mistook as sleepiness and not lovesickness.

You beguiled him enough to earn yourself a night of heavenly sex. It's definitely not your first time, so you knew how fucking difficult it is to convince Yves to do that with you. And you knew how damn good he is in the bedroom.

Naturally, you're shaking in excitement as Yves gives you a nod as he sensually caresses you under your chin. Opportunities like this are rare, of course, you're frothing at the mouth thinking about what awaits you later.

He told you to unwind in the bedroom first while he cleans up. Yves didn't have to say a word more before you took off running.

Yves laughed to himself as he gathered the empty dishes, thinking about the vase he would be putting the fresh roses in.

This may not be everyone's ideal way of spending their birthday; ending the day by doing chores. But that's the way Yves likes it and he wouldn't change his mind for the world, he's stubborn in his ways and loves predictability. Taking care of you is his greatest joy in life. Which isn't all that surprising, Yves is a Taurus, after all.

#yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere concept #yandere oc #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #oc yves #yandere x you #yandere #male yandere oc x reader

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