#MOMENTS MASTERLIST

[theoneprecioustome]

Aikoto Moments Masterlist: Episode Aigis

This list will focus on the remake. To see how it fares in comparison to the original, check this post.

Notes:

Since Makoto isn’t actually in the game, most of the list will focus on Aigis' side of their bond as well as the little things that connect them.

There will also be third party quotes about Aigis’ bond with Makoto.

I bolded the most important moments.

The post is image heavy & contains spoilers for the entire game.

When that person died, there was nothing she could do to bear the pain. The machine girl found herself thinking that she had no use for a heart that did nothing but let her feel pain. And thus, the girl's heart became a blue butterfly, which took flight, and the pain in her chest disappeared. However, in its stead, there was now a large, gaping, empty hole in her chest. The emptiness in her chest didn't hurt, but it also did not let her feel anything. She wasn't alive anymore. Nothing but an empty shell, devoid of emotions, cursed to stand still in time where she was forever with no place to move forward to. — Episode Aigis Epilogue, Persona 3 Official Fanbook. Translation by Nenilein.

PROMOS

✤ The Key Visual of Episode Aigis features Aikoto. What's more, it reveals that Makoto in the original P3R art was meant to be looking at Aigis all along, like two halves of a whole.

✤ Soejima released an illustration to celebrate Episode Aigis. The illustration features Aikoto & Metis.

✤ The First Edition of the Episode Aigis soundtrack comes with a double-sided Aikoto box featuring the Key Visual and their AOA attacks. This is what Lotus Juice had to say about it:

"In the cover, you see P3HERO and Aigis looking at each other... if you open it, they'll be separated... like they're almost within reach of each other, but aren't. I wonder if that feeling gets across to fans as well? It's very beautifully done."

✤ SEGA Korea welcomed September with an Aikoto Calendar featuring the Episode Aigis Key Art (alternative link).

✤ HINEMOS released two more Aikoto Sake bottles to commemorate the release of Episode Aigis.

OPENING

✤ Episode Aigis features an exclusive opening & song focused on Aigis' feelings after Makoto's loss. Full lyrics here and Analysis in the post linked above!

(Lost without you) But little things like the scent of his cologne Is a painful remindеr that he’s gone It feels like my heart is suffocating How do you make amends when you’re gone from me? Even though with a win, how come I feel so lost? Nothing makes sense to me I’m so numb, so lost without you

BATTLE SONG

✤ The new Battle Song, Don't, is also from Aigis' POV. While it focuses on Aigis' feelings through her conflict with SEES, it also has references to her feelings towards Makoto. Full lyrics here!

Already lost my keys to the door wide shut Only had one wish now it’s never gonna come true Trapped in time Forever in remorse How could I ever be in peace when nothing else matters to me?

MENU & UI

✤ In the menu, Aigis is shown holding a blue butterfly who flies away from her. According to the old devs, blue butterflies are used to symbolize Aigis' heart, which is the perfect imagery for Episode Aigis. Curiously, blue butterflies also often used in relation to Makoto, which carries very meaningful implications they're soulmates your honor.

✤ P3R's UI is meant to represent "the Protagonist's Sea of Souls", and it reflects their psychological state. True to form, Aigis is shown looking sad and lonely in hers, which is how she has felt since she lost Makoto. In the Equipment menu, we can even see her reach out before sadly retreating into herself, as if she were trying to catch someone who is now long gone.

PROLOGUE

✤ During the anime cutscene, we see a new rendition of Makoto's and Aigis' last moments together.

MARCH 31ST

✤ Aigis is the one who kept Makoto's Evoker after his passing.

✤ Aigis says that the one thing she feels certain of is that Makoto wouldn't have blame any of them for what happened, showing how well she understands him.

✤ Junpei comments that he’s glad Aigis has been “hanging in there” (spoiler: she isn't) because "It really seemed like you cared about him more than anything in the world."

✤ Aigis reveals that she remembers her last moment with Makoto whenever she closes her eyes. Depressed, she kept having the same dream over and over again: running after him, calling his name but never being able to catch up.

✤ She also recalls the promise she made him during the rooftop scene: "I promised to protect him, and I made that my reason for living. But now... that promise can never be fulfilled."

✤ Aigis says that one day, her sadness "mysteriously" left her. She stopped dreaming and requiring sleep. Unbeknownst to her, this is the event that draws The Abyss of Time to the dorms.

✤ When Aigis is scared of losing more precious people, she sees Makoto walking away from her and desperately tries to reach out to him. Then, Athena metamorphoses into Orpheus. It's interesting to notice that the effect used when Makoto disappears is the same effect used when Orpheus appears.

✤ Aigis and Makoto have the exact same Velvet Room and Aigis can even access his entire Compendium. In other words, they must share the same space “between dream and reality, mind and matter.”

✤ Elizabeth also explains that a Persona "represents one's heart and soul." Aigis can use Makoto's as if they were her own. Let that sink in!

✤ When Aigis thinks that reaching the Answer to Life may lead to her death, she is surprised to "discover how little the possibility bothered me." With Makoto gone, Aigis has lost her reason to live. It's to the point that when Aigis believes that she may die if she loses her key, she says: "If I did, then that would be fine..."

✤ During one of the activities with Metis, she comments on how fulfilled she feels whenever Aigis trusts her with something. If the player lets Aigis say "I think I understand", Metis will say: "Then you must have someone in your life who's just as important to you as you are to me." Which is quite big, because Aigis is literally Metis' everything lol

✤ Aigis getting Makoto’s power means she "inherited" something from him.”

✤ Aigis says early in the game that normally, people have a reason to awaken to their Persona, but that for her it was backwards. She had a persona and then she gained a reason (protecting Makoto). Later, we discover that the reason for her awakening to the Wild Card was that with Makoto gone, she has lost her purpose and her reason to live.

✤ The door that lies in the deepest part of The Abyss of Time leads to Aigis’ past and the moment she awoke to the "Persona abilities" Makoto had. In here we see Aigis' dream, the one where she runs after Makoto, trying to reach him in vain. We also find out that she was in so much pain and so lost after his passing that she wished she could go back to being just a machine again.

It was so painful losing him... I couldn't bring myself to do anything, so... I just hid in my room. For a while, I did nothing but chase after him in my dreams...

✤ Aigis' trophy is called "The one who dreamt", after her dream of Makoto.

✤ After the fight with Shadow!Makoto, he disintegrates into blue butterflies as Aigis desperately reaches out for him.

✤ Aigis can't decide whether she wants to go back to the past, or respect Makoto's sacrifice and remain in the present. Irritated by Aigis' predicament, Yukari accuses her of running away from her own feelings for Makoto.

✤ Metis explains that she would do anything to protect Aigis, because she is "all she has". This prompts Aigis to say that she, too, once felt the same way about someone.

✤ Aigis being willing to lay down her life to not have to fight her friends makes Metis break down. She echoes all of Aigis' buried feelings at Makoto's sacrifice. "Why do you have to die? Why does it have to be you...? Why can't it... be me instead? Please don't leave me behind... I'll give my life for the key, too! And if that doesn't work... then I'm coming with you! So we can always be together... Please, don't leave me all alone!" 😭

✤ Aigis realizes that she has been running away from her own feelings. Before going back to the past, she needs to know why Makoto did what he did—because she won't give up on what's important to her.

✤ After that fight, Aigis finally acknowledges that she wants Makoto back, too, and explains that she needs to know exactly what he did before she can make a choice. Despite her own feelings, Makoto's come first to her 😭

✤ Aigis screams "No!" as Erebus aims for Makoto. We also get two new shots of Aikoto's last moments together, showing Makoto smiling peacefully on Aigis' lap.

✤ After the final fight, Yukari acknowledges her jealousy over Aigis inhering Makoto's power and says that just like Makoto, Aigis is the one who knows how to move forward.

✤ Aigis reaches the very same Answer to Life that Makoto did: Friendship and Bonds are what give people life.

✤ Metis tells Aigis that there's still a way for Aigis to keep her promise to protect Makoto, and that is by fostering connections with others, so that they may one day reach the same answer they did.

✤ Metis is revealed to be Aigis' Shadow: the manifestation of the heart Aigis wished away after losing Makoto.

✤ Once Aigis regains her heart, she breaks down crying at last, finally processing her grief at losing Makoto.

✤ Before she fully fades away, we hear Metis' voice talking to Aigis and telling her how she can reach Makoto so he won't have to carry on alone anymore.

ENDING

✤ Aigis goes back to the rooftop for the final cut-scene. Just like that last day she spent with him, there are cherry blossom petals blowing in the wind.

✤ The credit song, Brand New Days, is once again from Aigis' POV. It focuses on her feelings towards SEES and Makoto as she walks forward into a new tomorrow.

There are days when I tire of calling out the meaning of my life, and my head droops But still, in my heart (So look up to you) Is your smile

✤ During the credits, we see Aigis looking back over her shoulder as she walks through the Moonlight Bridge (the place that started it all for her and Makoto). Lastly, cherry blossoms once again welcome her when she reaches the school. Considering their meaning (Don't forget about me), I'd like to think they're yet another reference to the fact that Aigis will go on living—forever carrying her memories of him.

✤ The Clear Data Save features Aigis' portrait over a cherry blossom background. If you beat the game on Heartless, a cherry-blossom-colored butterfly is added and placed over Aigis' heart.

EXTRAS

✤ In Orpheus' myth, he descends to the underworld in search of his dead wife, Eurydice, but ultimately fails and finds his own death. Knowing this makes Aigis having Orpheus as her main Persona even more meaningful. Not only is Orpheus' Makoto's Persona—so it's like he's left a piece of himself with her, his own version of I'll Never Leave You—it also represents Aigis' plight during Episode Aigis: either moving forward or going back to the past in search of Makoto. Unlike Orpheus, Aigis is eventually able to move forward carrying her memories of her beloved with her.

✤ Aigis' Compendium is signaled by a bookmark with a red butterfly, while Makoto's is the same bookmark but with a blue butterfly.

✤ Two dictionary entries evoke Aikoto. The first is That Day, which mentions it's "the last day Aigis ever spoke to him." The second is Aigis' Past.

✤ One of Elizabeth dialogues is "Do you posses the power to overcome any adversity as well? Just as he did...?" Another of her dialogues foreshadows Elizabeth wanting to ask Aigis to help her free Makoto's soul from the seal ("When the time comes, I may ask you to..."), just like in Persona 4 Arena.

✤ When Fuuka learns that Aigis may die if her key is taken, Aigis explains that she didn't want SEES to worry over her, too, when they're all "doing what they feel is best... for him..."

✤ Just like in The Answer, Yukari spends the game jealous of Aigis because she heard Makoto's last words and inherited his power—although this time she luckily handles it a lot better. This leads Mitsuru to explain that Yukari doesn't mean Aigis any malice; as she does so, she acknowledges Aigis' feelings and says that Makoto did no mean any less to Aigis than he did to Yukari. Later, Yukari herself ends up acknowledging Aigis' feelings and suffering over Makoto, strengthening their friendship.

✤ It's revealed that both Mitsuru and Yukari made promises to Makoto, or rather, to themselves after Makoto's passing. This bears mentioning because Aigis' promise to Makoto is never described in such terms in the game. At the contrary, in the original game, Yukari even goes as far as comparing them to say that unlike Aigis' promise to Makoto (あなたと違う), hers was one-sided (一方的に), highlighting that Makoto was there to acknowledge Aigis'.

✤ Metis tells Aigis that "The souls of all living things are connected through a plane similar to a sea." The Seal of Souls is likely where Makoto & Aigis are shown together in the opening, and the storyboards even describe it as an "unexpected reunion" 😭

✤ Mitsuru decides to give everyone their Evokers back, so it’s fair to assume Aigis still has Makoto’s.

✤ The Persona 3 Official Fanbook holds a short story about Aigis and Metis (I included an excerpt of it at the top of this post) and a column on the symbolism behind Aigis getting Orpheus (Orpheus, just like Aigis, went to the underworld in search of his lost beloved). While it's not material that came out with this version of Episode Aigis, it's still as relevant (and touching) as ever, so I really recommend reading it.

[mysteria157]

Moment Two: Your Daughter's First Pair

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: fluff, profanity (not really), sexual suggestion, slight angst (very minimal).

Word Count: ~3.4k

Summary: Nanami joins you and your daughter for a family tradition, but he may not be as strong as he thinks.

Set in the It Had To Be You universe but you don't need a lot of backstory to follow along.

Notes: This was a random thought that I had based on something that has always been a thing in my family that I wanted to write out. There is nothing significant about this, I have not written Nanami in a LONG time, so I'm trying to warm myself up again. I am so rusty but I'm using fleeting moments of inspiration and taking advantage of it.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! Happy reading!

Divider: @saradika | Header: myself

| Twitter | Ao3 | Masterlist | Moment One | Moment Three...Eventually

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

MINORS DNI

“You don’t need to hold her so tight.”

“I’m protecting her.”

“And what am I, a goat?”

He raises a brow at your jest, autumn wheat and elegant but nonetheless annoyed as he glares at you. He doesn’t mean it, you know that—it’s all nerves.

“Ken, we don’t have to do this you know? If you’re against the idea, we can wait a few more years.”

“I’m not against it,” he reassures you, adjusting your daughter in his arms. Ulani babbles up at him, her chubby hands digging into a sharply cut cheekbone. He carries on without complaint, already used to her behavior. “This is a tradition, and I understand it but…”

You turn a key chain in one hand, your thumb smoothing along the glittery face of a dog—or is it a cat? The rack is filled with key chains of different colors, animals and objects, bringing back memories of middle school when you would drag your best friend Omelia into this same store in Sendai before it closed down. Despite the many years that have passed, the store chain still has its subtle hues of purples and pinks, earrings punched through purple cardboard paper, pens with wonky erasers, and headbands of different designs.

“But what?” you try to finish for him, smiling up at his nervous form as he lets Ulani talk to him in her own baby language.

Kento pulls in a deep breath as if to steel his nerves and prepare for the inevitable. He’s praying to whoever will listen, trying to use every coping mechanism in the book. He’s wearing jeans that hug his fit thighs and a dark blue short sleeve that shows too much bicep for your liking (you should give him a dress code). There are only so many single and married women and men that you can glare at in a day, and the redhead over by the register is pushing it.

“Will it hurt her?” your boyfriend’s low timber pulls you back, filled with apprehension, and he keeps mahogany eyes on his daughter to avoid showing you just how scared he is. You rub his back to soothe him, tracing the bands of muscle that are tense behind the soft fabric.

“I-I’m worried.”

“And you shouldn’t be. It’s a simple thing, lasts two seconds. Just like when she got her first shots.”

That’s not enough for him, because now Kento furrows his eyebrows in frustration, bouncing his daughter in his arms to entertain her and also soothe himself. “There are a lot of things to consider. The risk of infection. Rejection. What if she hates them? What if they get caught on her clothes? Or her curls? Or—”

“Are we ready?” one of the employee’s sing songs from behind you both, walking towards the singular chair perched against the glass wall of the store.

“I—” Kento croaks, clearing his throat and swallowing loudly. He looks down at you. “Are we?”

In the time you’ve known him, you’ve only seen Kento visibly nervous a handful of times. That stoic demeanor is a smooth, stone-like shell to everyone else besides family and close friends, but you know the weak spots and have glimpsed into the fragmented sections only visible to your eyes. Right now, he’s nervous and fearful beyond belief. That all encompassing love and attention that he shows you from sunup to sundown extends to his daughter as well. If there is one person besides you, who can make Nanami Kento show his emotions freely and without reservation no matter the date, place, or time, it’s Ulani.

“How about you hold her?” you suggest and give him a small push towards the black chair. Two employees work at the small kiosk next to him, unwrapping sterile materials and cotton swabs. Kento’s eyes watch every movement, searching for any sign of threat that can give him the ammunition to take his daughter and never come back. You can practically hear his thoughts:

“Is that up to code?”

“How long has that been sealed?”

“What is the name of the manufacturer so that I can ensure it’s reputable?”

Your roll your own eyes, knowing how right you might be.

When you found out your pediatrician would be on her own maternity leave, you let Kento research every establishment in Tokyo until he found one in Shibuya. Reputable, good reviews, and well-practiced in this procedure.

Of course, you’re nervous too. She’s your daughter, a combination of you and Kento, conceived from a very drunken night of disdain but grown out of eventual love and adoration. The thought of her crying in pain makes that maternal part of you flare with anger and the consuming need to protect her forever. But you’ve prepared for this for awhile.

Kento? Not so much.

“Is that clean?” your boyfriend asks one of the employees, clutching his daughter a little tighter. It’s a little rude, but the employee smiles at him in a way that conveys understanding of his trepidation. This isn’t their first rodeo.

“Completely sterile from the package. I promise she’s in great hands.” Deep eyes free of steampunk-esque glasses flicker up at her in doubt, but he simply sniffs and looks back to his daughter instead to withhold a scathing remark. “How about one of us on each side, and we do it at once?” she suggests, addressing him directly. It helps, as he gives her a somber but curt nod.

He situates Ulani in his arms so she’s sitting fully on his lap, his large hands holding her up with a slight tremble. The sight is enough to remind you again that this is new territory for him. What has always been a normal tradition for you and the other females in your life, is a foreign concept for him.

Ear piercings are a milestone in a young girl’s life. You got yours as a baby, and so did your mother. Omelia got hers as a baby, as did all her female cousins, as did her mother and the mother before her. If you interacted with your mother’s side of the family, then maybe you would know if your cousins also did the same.

But that’s another thought for another time, and you refuse to let painful memories tarnish what should be a memory you are crafting on your own, right now.

You step closer and run your hands through thick blond locks that are free of gel. You brush the strands from his forehead, letting the soft texture slip past your fingertips as he relaxes instantly. With his place in his chair, he’s at the perfect height to rest his head on your stomach, and he does so a second later.

One of his hands brushes light brown curls from his daughters ears. You can feel the unease radiating from him with every deep breath he takes, and you scratch that spot at his nape that makes him shudder, hoping it will help.

The muscles in Kento’s neck bunch together instead when one of the employee’s leans toward Ulani to make marks in deep purple, and even your own stomach turns in response at what’s to come. 

“Okay, we will do this on three. How’s that sound honey?” one of the employees coos at your daughter. Ulani, who is a carbon copy of her father, stares up at her, observant and sinking into her daddy before offering a gummy smile. “She’s so pretty.”

“She’s beautiful,” Kento corrects, slightly rough but still appreciative of the compliment. “Aren’t you, my dove?”

He tickles her side and offers a rare chuckle as she squeals up at him, wiggling in her father’s embrace. The sight makes your heart do flips because this is your world, day in and day out. Just you, Kento, and the person you’ve created together.

You step around to squat in front of him so you’re eye level with your daughter, a hand coming up to wiggle the toes covered in a tan sock. Her eyes catch you immediately, and she holds your gaze long enough for the two employees to position themselves on each side of her. 

Kento holds his breath.

“Alright, here we go. One. Two. Three.”

They both move in sync, pressing down on the plastic gun so the studs slide through the soft lobe of Ulani’s lower ears. Kento’s eyebrows furl together immediately. Ulani’s eyes widen for a second before her face contorts, her mouth opening in a silent cry. Your heart hammers and your chest tightens in an sudden flood of sadness and desperation that crashes against you like a tumultuous wave when Ulani takes one heaving breath in….

And screams.

His reaction is quick. Kento bounces one leg at a tempo that alarms you, his handsome face flying through different stages of grief, anger, and pain as he watches the employees adjust the diamond earrings to ensure they heal without complication. His mouth opens and closes, jaw grinding to keep his rudeness in check, because you know what he wants to say.

He was the same way when she got her shots; all glares and sharp stares at everyone else because they were the source of her discomfort. But like that time before, you are the cooling balm for his hot anger as you wiggle your daughters toes and murmur soothing words at her, to show him that she’s going to be just fine.

“It’s okay, baby,” you smile softly and it’s enough to capture her attention even though she’s squealing and crying from the sharp but quick pain in her ears. But all too quickly, you’re not enough for her, because the daughter that you carried for almost ten months turns away and reaches for her father, crying loudly in his arms. It’s a sting that you prepared for, but nonetheless hurts with a severity that takes a few seconds for you to recover from.

By the time you pay one of the employees and exit the store, Ulani has already calmed down. Kento digs into the diaper bag on his shoulder and pulls out a cotton cloth, wiping her nose as she sniffles and whines into his shoulder.

“I know honey, I know,” he coos to her, wiping the tears from her light brown skin and swaying back and forth. “But you were so strong, weren’t you? Hmm? A lot stronger than me.”

He pulls her away from his neck, smiling softly at her, and that one smile makes your chest bloom with satisfaction. It’s times like these that remind you how your life has surprisingly fallen into place. Who would have thought that the man who used to drive you insane would be the only one fit for you? 

That small twinge of hurt you felt minutes ago when Ulani turned away from you resurfaces, but reassurance cools it’s prickly edges. Even though this is a moment you may have been more connected with, it’s Kento who feels the painful side of it a lot more.

So you give him his own moment. You watch quietly as he kisses her chubby cheeks repeatedly, smiling into her skin at the giggles that leave her. You fall into the hum of the world around you as you watch him tuck away the cotton cloth and smooth the curls away from Ulani’s ears, finally admiring the diamonds that twinkle on each side. The lobes will be red for a few days, but for Ulani, she will never think of them again until she’s old enough to pay attention. Until she’s old enough to change them out to match the outfits she decides to wear, different colors and gemstones, and multiples if she ever has a streak of expression in her teenage years. Like you did.

Kento finally looks down at you, chestnut browns sparkling as he takes you in from head to toe. The harsh Shibuya sun beats down on bustling city square, but the rays are soft when they touch him. Tan skin is illuminated gold on his cheekbones, his hair luminous in the sun. You reach up to run a hand through his locks for the second time this afternoon, your heart still not used to the incessant hammering that arises when he leans into your touch.

You lift an accusatory eyebrow at him and hold back a chuckle when you speak. “Our daughter was the soldier this afternoon, and yet I’m coddling you?”

“Keep coddling,” he demands, voice tinged with mirth as he turns to place a kiss inside of your palm and then leans back into your stroking. “Today was very painful for me, have you no shame?” 

You snort and dig your nails into his scalp in retaliation, enjoying the groan that rumbles in the air from your ministrations. “Don’t blame this one moment on your entire day. You had a great run, remember?”

“My slowest three mile run yet.” Quick on the draw, and you already know where this is going. Kento rarely complains, but when he does, it is about the most trivial things as a means to get and keep your attention.

“You made me pancakes this morning.”

“Not my best work. Too much cinnamon in the batter.”

“We made out two hours ago?”

“Ulani woke from her nap and interrupted what would have been a very enjoyable afternoon.” That complaint leaves his mouth in a grumble, and you purse your lips to hold off the laughter that sits in the back of your throat. He’s truly pouting, and god do you love him.

“And now seeing your daughter cry from her first ear piercing was icing on the cake of a bad day, I imagine?”

“Exactly.”

You finally giggle and playfully pull a strand of his hair. He narrows his eyes at you, mischievous yet still carrying that ingrained indifference that you know and love. Ulani shrieks in his arms, finally past her blip of crying and now ready for her parent’s attention. You take in her drool of a smile, slightly red ears, and brown onesie-dress, and the possibilities flood your mind. It’s…very overwhelming when the thoughts hit you: how she will grow into herself, develop her personality, her wants and desires, her hobbies and her dreams. 

“Pay attention to me,” he interrupts your thoughts, and you can’t help the bark of laughter that you give him in response. Ulani mimics you, completely oblivious.

“You’re such a baby, and we have a baby,” you tease, snorting at his level expression and dusty cheeks, slightly shy but absorbing your presence. “You and Ulani have had it rough today. So how about a reward?” You look to your daughter when you ask, knowing damn well she has no idea what you’re saying but you want to include her anyway.

“How about frozen yogurt?” I.e., the unsweetened applesauce in the diaper bag for Ulani and matcha-flavored frozen yogurt for Kento from a favorite vendor a few blocks away. It’s an obsession of his that’s been appearing in the freezer with numbing regularity.

Kento remains unphased by your suggestion, though his lips twitch with the desire to smirk down at you.

“Seeing our daughter in pain was more heartbreaking than I thought. Food may not help, I’m afraid.”

Kento is milking his “pain” at this point, and you’re far too in love with him not to entertain the idea you know is floating in his head. You love this about him, just how playful he is when it comes to you.

“You’re a tough nut to crack.” You tap your chin as if you’re thinking hard, humming in contemplation. “How about…” you trail off, a hand sliding up a muscular bicep before massaging his nape again, relishing in the shudder he gives in response, his eyes twitching to hold back the urge to roll into his head in satisfaction. “Since you’ve suffered so much today…we can go home…and I’ll do that thing you like.”

You have the privilege and skill of being able to read Nanami Kento like a book. You don’t miss the glee that dances across his features—the uptick of one side of his mouth, the slow brow lift, the darkening of his irises. He knows exactly what that thing is. You’re pretty good at it—a master at it—and he made you promise that the day he ever turns that thing down, is the day you can leave him.

His cheeks explode in blush, jaw ticking before he clears his throat and smooths a sweaty hand down the dark blue of his shirt.

“I see,” he ponders, looking up to the sky as if in deep thought, and you know if you roll your eyes again, they’ll get stuck. “Well.” He situates Ulani in his arms and presses a few kisses to her cheek again to pull those giggles from her that you both love. “Who am I to deny your mother?” he suggests to his daughter. “Not a moment to waste, Ulani.”

“You’ve got to be kidding—”

“Quickly, before you change your mind.” He slides a hand to the small of your back as a means to hurry you along, pressing softly and turning you in the direction of the car.

You try to bat his hands away from you, giggles growing in volume as he dodges all your attempts to get rid of him. “I’m not going to change my mind, Ken—”

“Quickly.”

He takes your hand and you let him pull you, beaming at his back as he increases his pace. Ulani is happy as can be in her father’s arms and babbling as he talks softly to her.

“A snack before nap time sounds good, doesn’t it? What kind of applesauce would you like today?” She gurgles. “Cinnamon again? Hmmm, we should always try new things, Dove. What about the strawberry ones I bought you yesterday?” A squeal. “Strawberry it is. I think…”

The rest of their conversation fades into the background as you walk with them, warmth coursing through your veins with each step. It’s a warmth that catches you off guard, but has been ever present since Ulani’s birth. And you love every bit of how it feels. How it flows through you with every breath you take. How it only grows every minute, every hour, every day that you create a life with them.

After Ulani is buckled in her car seat and you slide your seat belt into its latch, Kento leans across the armrest, a warm hand sliding against your cheek in a gentle caress before he slants his lips against yours. It’s a surprise, but the shock dies as quickly as it forms as you melt into his touch—full lips that know your own and soft blonde locks brushing your face.

That affection that he pulls from you every day is given back in this moment—freely and without restraint—in the parking lot of Claire’s in Shibuya, where your daughter got her ears pierced for the first time.

When he pulls away and whispers his love for you against your lips, you repeat it back to him without thinking. It’s a motion that you both carry out whenever you can. 

“No more piercings. My heart will probably give out.”

“Do you feel better?” you ask in a tone that is filled with the teasing nature that sticks to you like a second skin.

He loves it, but doesn’t take the bait, and instead kisses your lips again, each cheek, and the tip of your nose. “I will soon.” The innuendo is so obvious you can taste it. He’s been with you too long to be a blushing and awkward man. “Once Ulani is asleep.” You push him away with a giggling huff and savor the deep chuckle that falls from his lips, permeating the air of the car.

As Kento drives through the crowded streets towards your shared home in Nakameguro, the hand not on the steering wheel envelops yours, a thumb stroking the skin of your palm. You look out the window and observe the colors and cars that zoom by, and the sound of a deep breath behind you makes you look back. And when you do, your heart gives a painful but welcoming lurch as you gaze at her. Your daughter already asleep, her head dipping to the side—curly locks askew and sticking to the drool on her face, and her new diamond earrings shining back at you.

Thanks for reading!

[soap-ify]

nsfw below , mdni.

YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader.

03 — i'm sorry i'm the one you love.

chapter summary — a visit to simon's place after finding out that he's sick was definitely not the best idea.

tags / cw — some fluff, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, suicidal thoughts, major self deprecating thoughts, heavy themes, simon's past, simon fucks up royally, reader has anxiety, simon can't communicate for his life, some nsfw. [3.1k words]

masterlist | ao3 | prev | next

Simon’s immunity to being sick was one of those traits about himself he was the most proud of.

But oh well, maybe he wasn’t completely immune.

Queasy stomach, constricted nose, trembling muscles — Simon would rather die, ironically enough. He hated this feeling, made him feel like an imposter in his own body, wanting to crawl out of this mess that left him nauseous.

He couldn’t even remember how he had gotten sick. Maybe it was the horribly cold weather in the place the taskforce had pinpointed one of the targets at. Or maybe it was the drunk woman who was all over him in the bar they went to after the mission was over. God, that woman.

An uneasy pit formed in his stomach as he thought about that night, that woman pinned beneath him as he—

Fuck it. He didn’t want to think about the details. All he knew that he kept on thinking about you while he was fucking her, and it only made him want to rip his skin off even more. You. You were probably waiting for him at your home, wondering if he was safe. Alive even.

The mission had gotten extended due to some issues, and he was just so fucking frustrated and tired. That woman was just… there, flirting with him so shamelessly, and he was too exhausted to stop her, thinking that she might somehow fill the void in his chest, or even give some temporary solace to how lonely and isolated he felt despite being around everyone else.

He was so wrong. Every thrust into that woman felt like being restrained, as if hands were gripping onto his throat tight, mocking at his incapability of coming to proper solutions to his damn problems. He felt trapped, chains tying him as he dissociated more and more.

That woman was sickeningly satisfied that night, and Simon just felt more and more ill, confused and lost amidst the overwhelming storm that raged inside his head. Was he guilty? He wasn’t even dating you. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t fucked anyone else since meeting you, other than this. You made him forget others.

No, it wasn’t guilt. Well, it was but there was something more too.

It was just that Simon became more and more self aware of how noxious he had become to himself. His own doom.

Anyways, it was probably the cold weather that made him sick.

Now back in his shitty apartment after five weeks, all he cared about was getting some damn medicines and sleeping it off, and trying not to think about you.

Which was hard, too hard. You had somehow built your own corner in his head, started living there too. Permanently? Probably. He knew he should tell you that he’s back, but again, does he really ever tell you anything?

A cough escaped him and he groaned in annoyance, the urge to just suffocate himself with his pillow really strong.

Kyle was an angel, really.

“The mission was so exhausting. Problems here and there.” He groaned, tipping his head back while lounging on your couch, opening up the small box of chocolates he had bought for you. “Try it, mate. Got it at the airport.” He grinned, tossing you one piece of wrapped chocolate. You undid it and tossed it in your mouth, immediately feeling the sweet ball of chocolate melting at your tongue, a happy noise escaping your throat.

“Holy shit.” You gasped in awe, earning a knowing chuckle from Kyle.

You were sitting with your legs crossed, constantly shifting and fidgeting, your sock-clad feet somewhat restless as you tried to resist the urge to ask about Simon.

Though it seemed that your mouth worked faster than your brain.

“How’s Simon?” You asked, voice a bit strained and you suddenly regretted every single thing in your life.

Kyle was a bit surprised that you were asking about his gloomy Lieutenant out of everyone else, though he didn’t question it, not an ounce of suspicion on his face. “Sick.” A snort left him before he could hold it back, a hand coming to cover his mouth as he snickered. “He was so mad ‘bout it. You should’ve seen him.”

Sick? Truth be told, you had never considered the possibility of Simon getting sick. The concept just seemed so… foreign? Maybe you had just always thought of him as something else. That creepy balaclava never helped.

A sudden overwhelming wave of worry churned in your stomach, your fingernails digging into your palm while you swallowed the lump in your throat, your brain desperately trying to hold onto the scattered rush of thoughts and form a plan somehow. You weren’t even that mad at him for ghosting you or not indicating anything about his return. He was sick.

“That sucks…” You awkwardly replied, biting your inner cheek.

As soon as Kyle was gone, you grabbed your jacket and keys, leaving your apartment too with only one place in mind.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Simon’s voice was sickeningly hoarse, and he didn’t look any better — pale hair all messy and the dark circles around his eyes a bit more prominent, a black surgical mask covering his mouth while he coughed a bit. You don’t think you’d ever properly seen his hair before fully except a few strands. You liked it.

He looked at you standing at the front door of his apartment, looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours that were full of concern, a plastic bag in your hands that seemingly contained some vegetables, some meds and other food. Shit, I should have tidied up my place, his brain screamed at him.

“Kyle told me you were sick. I got worried.” You mumbled sheepishly.

Of course it was Kyle. Simon tried hard to not click his tongue and nodded reluctantly, stepping aside so you could get in.

“You shouldn’t be standing and walking around, Si…” You frowned, quickly putting the plastic bag on the kitchen counter. Before he could even protest, you were already gently pushing onto his chest, trying to make him move until he sighed and sniffled, letting you push him into his bedroom.

“You don’t have to, love.” He grumbled weakly and proceeded to lay on his bed, watching you pull his blanket over him, disappearing out of the room for a moment before coming back with a bowl of cold water and a towel, gently beginning to dab the wet towel on his burning forehead.

Simon felt… weird. A part of him felt embarrassed for letting someone else take care of him, someone as sweet and kind as you, someone who genuinely cared. He was used to being the one always watching out for others, making sure his teammates were safe and sound.

And the other part of him felt so nice — the part that had just been trapped in there ever since he dug himself out of that damn grave years ago, the stench of the rotting corpse still vivid in his head. The real Simon. You were making that part of him feel loved even if you weren’t aware of it.

He doesn’t remember when was the last time he felt so comforted. And it terrified him, this feeling of warmth that was spreading in his chest, a feeling he had somewhat started loathing at some point in the past few years.

But he wanted it more, wanted it like a starved dog wandering in a street, wanted it like a man needing water. And he was scared that this need of his would terrify you — that you’ll catch him ravenous and berserk, devouring your love, or even you, in such a manner that will make you shriek and leave him forever. Leave him after learning who he truly was. Disturbed. An Outcast. An unwanted dog.

Not a man, never a man.

A cough rumbled from his throat, and you left the wet towel resting on his forehead, your hand reaching down to rub his chest through his shirt in circular motions. “I’ll make some soup for you.” You mumbled softly, the urge to press a soft kiss in between his brows strong. But you couldn’t do it. He would probably hate it anyway.

You pulled away and looked at him one more time before leaving his bedroom, ready to make some warm soup for him with the groceries you bought for him.

This allowed him to close his eyes for a few minutes, trying to cancel out the loud buzzing in his head. Though that wasn’t a good option too, really, but there was nothing else he could do. Sleep never came to him anyways.

First it was just darkness, the only sounds in the bedroom being of his slightly heavy breathing, soft sniffles leaving him. Then it came slowly, images flashing in his head. Brutal and unforgiving. Blood, bodies, knives, guns, shouts, his family, Tommy, Beth, everyone. A meat hook, a scar, more scars, Roba, his father.

His father.

“Soup’s ready!”

His eyes snapped open as soon as he heard your melodic voice from the kitchen, soft footsteps drawing closer to the bedroom. Sweat had formed on the back of his neck as he panted heavily, clearing his throat. Clear your damn head.

“Here you go.” You walked into the bedroom, a warm bowl of soup in your hands as you gently placed it on the nightstand beside him.

Simon sat up on the bed and gave you a silent nod of gratitude, grabbing the bowl of soup, fiddling with the spoon, eyes elsewhere. He couldn’t meet your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and naked.

You shifted on your feet, a small smile moving up on your lips once he finally took a taste of the soup, happy to not see any sign of disgust on his features. You knew he wasn’t going to show that he liked the soup anyways. These were the little things you took note of, the subtle relaxation in his brows and the content sigh that escaped his mouth.

Minutes passed by and you managed to sit on a chair nearby his bed, silence lingering in the room while your eyes looked around, taking in just how bleak everything was. White walls, grey sheets, a severe lack of pictures or literally anything on the wall.

The only thing you could find was the little picture of him and the rest of the taskforce hung on the wall. It was sweet. The four guys were on a beach — Johnny having a beaming grin on his lips while Kyle had an annoyed one, trying to get the other’s hand off his ticklish sides. John had a cute big smile that highlighted his cheeks and the scrunch of his nose, like a quokka. And then there was Simon, face covered by the balaclava, classic. Though he didn’t appear to be brooding or anything, no. Instead, his eyes held a relieved and satisfied look. Transient happiness. The skin of his exposed torso was all flushed, and you could barely hold in a smile.

“Do you burn?” You asked, trying to hide the subtle amusement in your voice.

“No, I tan.” His hoarse voice replied, taking another sip of the soup, sounding so damn serious despite the lie. Typical Simon.

Silence soon filled the room once again, though it didn’t really feel comforting as it usually was between you too, sometimes. It seemed tense and thick, your right leg bouncing up and down restlessly. Restless for what? You wanted to do something, but you didn’t know what that something was. Everything just felt so odd today, so distant. Even with the little banter here and there, something seemed wrong.

“Um…” You finally managed to croak out, clearing your throat before looking at him. “There’s a new ice cream parlor that just opened around the street recently, and people seem to like it quite well. Would you like to go there sometime?” You asked with the little courage you had gathered in the past few minutes. Basically asking him out on a date, playing with the fire. But maybe it would help cheer him up, right?

He was silent for a while, and you momentarily thought that he didn’t hear you before he finally spoke, voice devoid of any emotion.

“No.”

Silence. Somehow more agonising than before. Heat spread through your cheeks and ears, an uncomfortable heat that made you feel too ashamed and humiliated, too weak and shocked. No. There were no signs of hesitation in his voice, and your mouth began working faster than your brain, anxiety simmering beneath the surface.

“O-Of course not now… When you’re not sick.”

“Still a no.”

You swallow the heavy lump in your throat, your heartbeat accelerating while your fingernails begin digging into your palm, breathing becoming all the more shallow. Were you annoying him? Please don’t speak, don’t make him more angry. Don’t say anything else, don’t breathe, don’t—

“Why are you being like this?”

Your strained question finally made Simon look at you, his stare too callous. The heat was unbearable, and you almost struggled to breath, trying your best to maintain eye contact with him, feeling the itchy sensation spreading through your skin. Inhale, exhale, inh—

“You don’t ever shut up, do you?” He threw a question back at you, though it was rhetorical and just cruel. Too cruel. Were you really talking too much? Your mouth quickly shut at that, breath catching in your throat, confusion and uncertainty screaming through every little action of yours.

Your heart felt too heavy, begging to run out of your chest, leave you abandoned or just simply run for its life, find some sort of freedom and solace. Your throat tightened up, restricting you from saying anything. But Simon would like it, yeah?

Simon saw it, the consequences of his words written bright and clear on your face, your shy smiles and little jokes being replaced by… that, horror and hurt etched on your pretty face. If he could somehow reach for the knife stuffed beneath his bed in front of you, he would and do something about this fucking mess that he had become.

Those words came out of his mouth in the spur of the moment — the headache and congested nose, the sick feeling in his chest and then your genuine care — everything was too overwhelming. Why are you even wasting your time over someone as damaged as me?

He hated it, hated how the more overwhelmed he’d get, the more he’d snap and say shit he never meant. He didn't know how he’d become like this, maybe because of the shouts he always heard when he was still a rookie, maybe how everyone prioritized strength and anger so much to be seen in the battleground, to be strong and good at your work. The military really did train him into a violent dog, didn’t it?

Or maybe he was one ever since he came out of his mother’s womb.

But Simon wasn’t going to show the vulnerability seeping into his being. Not yet, probably not ever.

You couldn’t meet Simon’s stare any longer, your eyes looking up at the ceiling, tears already prickling at the edges of her eyes, and it stung.

“I just want to sleep. I don’t need you here.” He spoke in a way that came out more as a cold hiss while he clenched his jaw behind his surgical mask, and it made your resolve even weaker, fighting back your tears and trying not to flinch once slammed the empty bowl on the nightstand, proceeding to lay back down on the bed and pull the covers all over him.

He doesn’t need you here.

You sniffled softly and nodded to no one in particular, walking over to his bed and gently patting his shoulder through the blanket. “Get well soon, Simon… I left the meds on the kitchen counter.” You spoke, unable to hide the way your voice cracked.

And just like that, you walked out of his apartment, pretending to ignore the ache in your heart.

Pretending to have not noticed the random tiny bottle of perfume laying on the couch. The perfume clearly did not belonging to him.

You didn’t like walking through the streets. There were always too many people around, making your clutch the ends of your sleeves tight and quicken your steps up.

But today, all you could see were the happy couples, smiling and holding hands. Young, old, married, dating. It was so sweet that it made you want to cry and plead for some love too, something that would make you forget about the cracks forming in your heart and the loneliness creeping behind you like a ghost. Literally.

You had come to the conclusion that there was probably something wrong with you that just made you so… So unlovable? Was it how anxious you were? How talkative you’d get? How you’d just speak without thinking?

Why can’t Simon and you be one of the couples holding hands right now? Walking through the streets and giggling at some awful jokes he’d make, spending time together, being in love.

As soon as you reached your home, you collapsed on your bed and let the tears finally fall down your cheeks, a silent pained sob escaping your lips. It hurt, it hurt so bad. You hated it, you went over there to check up on Simon, not anger him.

You hated him, he was so mean to you. But you loved him too. Loved him like the ocean loved the moon, always staring at it in awe, wanting to get closer but never reaching it.

You hated that fucking perfume you spotted in his apartment. Probably belonging to some other woman. Did Simon call her ‘love’ too? You know there was no point in feeling so mad when the agreement was clearly ‘no strings attached’ — no catching feelings. But you somehow always managed to fail at this kind of stuff.

You choked on your sobs and curled up on your bed, too exhausted and tired, hands reaching out to grab the stuffed toy you had and clutching it tight against your chest, breathing heavily, wanting it to somehow ease the storm brewing within you, every sound coming out of you more painful than before.

“I just wanna sleep…” You whimpered to yourself, closing your eyes while the tears uncomfortably slid down the bridge of your nose in this position. Simon’s words.

Sleep and just get lost in a world where you’d be happier, in a world where you weren’t struggling with everything.

Sleep and somehow disappear.

notes — the demons really won with this one.

[sassy-classy-fangirl]

We cry because our celebrity husband doesn’t know we exist

[ellieisque]

| 《 #NINE (Charles’ Version) masterlist 》 🎹🎶

| Charles, a talented pianist turned singer-songwriter, struggles to write his debut album while navigating his breakup with F1 world champion Max Verstappen. What's worse is that no one even knew that they were ever together.

part 1 :

-> never quite buried (the ink bleeds & the engine roars)

part 2 :

-> tba

spotify playlist 🎧

; or album tracklist

Disc 1: pop 💽

Disc 2: piano 🎵

taglist: @dreamydrifts @littlemooncity @summerhalder @leclecrism @sharlsbandana @33-16

by KAFKAISQUE – do not translate, plagiarise or put any of my works in generative ai.

[etherealmaidenprincess]

Mini Adventures: Sonic One-Shot Master List of March 2025

All of this will be in my A03 account. You can find it here too by searching my blog through the tags of the characters and 'Mini Story Moments' for when I have ideas I haven't fully fleshed out into one-shots(maybe yet).

~~~~~~~

Moments Of Rest: A Sneak Peak of the fanfic 'Interwoven Vines'; Sonadamy

Reaching For You: Nightmare Comfort; Sonamy

Why I Stopped Chasing: Layers of Amy's Heartfelt Truth.; Sonadamy

Why I Stopped Chasing Part II: Sonic's reply; Sonadamy

Rain, Tea and Hugs: Sonic Reminds Amy Who She Is; Sonamy

The Words Unspoken: On An Island In The Sun w/a bit of angst; Sonamy

A Healing Stream: Three Hedgehogs in a Cave; Sonadamy/Platonic

United Melodies: A Vocalist and her Bodyguards; Sonadamy

~~~~~~~

Interwoven Vines: A Sonadamy fanfic (Barely Starting Out)

[hswriting]

hswriting Masterlist

Currently Writing: Arranged to be Yours Part 6

Multi - Part Series

Song Series

One Shots

Other

Fic Recommendations (@hswritingficrec)

Tags

All asks are tagged with #hswriting ask.

All polls are tagged with #hswriting poll.

All one shots are tagged with #hswriting one shot

All smut is labeled by chapter with a stoplight emoji (🚦) and also tagged # hswriting smut

All Song Based Stories are tagged #song based story and #song series

All stories are tagged with their name (example: #the moment I knew). They are also tagged with the first letter of each word in the title (example: for the moment I knew, the tag is #tmik) unless it is a one word title, then it’s just the name (example: #Perfect)

Notes:

- The Moment I Knew is NOT part of the song series because it was written with multiple parts, while the song series is meant for more one shot type works.

- Song series are separate from one shots just for my own organizational purposes.

[aydien677]

the Pinned post/Masterlist

Hallo, welcome to my Blog. I’m a little new at this but This will mainly be Obey Me stuff. I will add links as I go. I’ll try to remember to add warnings for stuff. I will do asks so ask me anything so long as it isn’t hardcore smut or nsfw with Luke. If there’s any hate and whatnot you will be blocked as this is supposed to be a positive blog, obviously I’ll make exceptions for constructive criticism and pointing out a few grammatical errors. I hope you enjoy!

🦐Masterlist🐏

Obey Me

Headcannons with (Mostly) Everyone

Mc with Adhd/Autism that stims

Southern!Mc that hides their accent

Southern!Mc and their cooking

Psychological Analysis of the Brothers

Genderfluid!Mc

Obsession I (Lucifer) || Obsession II (Soon)

Lucifer 🦚

Please, Just Give Me Your Time

Did It Hurt?

sweatpants

Luci Headcannons

Mammon💸

Birthday 2024

Leviathan 🐠

Random art

Levi's tub

Asmodeus💋

Chibi Asmo!

Belphegor🐮

Chibi Art

Solomon🪄

Solomon and the Stars

Kid art

The Mc (You) 🐏🥰

Pride Sheep icons part one

Pride Sheep part 2

make your IPhone a DDD

Larger Fics

Coming soon... maybe later... *procrastinates some more*

Random things, Art, and crack

Princess Lucifer

Princess Lucifer #2

Princess Lucifer #3

Southern!Mc incorrect Quotes

My attempt at Michael art

Bippity Boppity Barbatos

Solomon Takes the Train Card Edit

Obey Me incorrect quotes #2

That one chat (Solomon)

Salmon and Pickles

Mc forced the brothers to Draw themselves

Incorrect Quotes #3

incorrect quotations part 4

incorrect quotes 5

incorrect quotes 6

Incorrect quotes 7

Twisted Wonderland

Random Crack

Incorrect quotes

[xiachino]

MASTERLIST

Reader

NSFW

Moments in Zapolyarny Palace

Valkarie Reader 1,

Part 15 is non-canonical at the moment

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17,

Modern AU

My Hero AU(Genshin x MHA)

Genshin x Black Butler AU

African Animals AU

Omegaverse AU

Others

Evens and Odds

Risa and Child!Risa

[starmocha]

I've read the last snowdrop fic exactly 6 times since you've posted it. I wanted to send an ask right away but I also wanted to calm down and write something coherent lol.

I gotta start by saying how adorable teeny tiny snowdrop is. The mere image of him as a newborn in Zayne's arms is just 😍

MC trusting him but being a little unsure to leave the baby alone because she's a new mom and she wants her baby on her all the time was a nice detail. Zayne being understanding and reassuring too.

I love how he started to talk to his baby all calm but the second the hiccups started, Zayne's concern increased and he started comforting him so gently 🥺

I live in a stupid tropical country and we joke we have no winter here, just a cold breeze that lasts for a week followed by a massive heatwave so you have no idea how much I wish I could get out of the shower and into the arms of a partner with an ice evol lmao

Absolutely loved how snowdrop's already giving his dad so many kisses on the cheek to convince him to carry him around the house for a bit longer. He might be a near perfect clone of his dad but those are MC's genes at work right there 😂

Snowdrop ditching his first dip in the ocean water to slumber peacefully on his father's lap is very understandable. We stan that little smart baby.

Oh and MC complimenting her dear husband and dear husband's little "fine"? He knows he's hot!!!! (Every time I use the wolf cut on him, I get giddy about Zayne apparently liking it so much that he can't stop checking himself out in the mirror lol)

THE ZOO SCENE

THE ENTIRE ZOO SCENE

OMG WHY IS IT SO ADORABLE LIKE HOLY MOLY

Zayne crouching next to his little boy, holding him and showing him the koalas 🐨 😍 Snowdrop being so excited he's poitung and patting his dad's arm at the same time, MC taking the pictures and Zayne being carefree and telling his son to smile

AND OMG YOU CAPTURED THE WAY LITTLE KIDS TAKE PICTURES SO PERFECTLY

You have NO idea how many pics there are of me as a little kid staring at the camera, tilting my head, smiling and clasping my hand FOR NO APPARENT REASON lmao

It's very cute how he coaxed snowdrop into going after MC but oh my god OH MY GOD the way I was smiling at Zayne feeling so PROUD that his son is adorable and looks like him to the point people around them can't help but comment on it 😍😍😍😍

Can't comment too much on the park scene 'cause it choked me up every time I read it, but the emotional awareness of that little boy hugging his dad and reassuring him of his love even though he has no idea why his dad got a little sad all of sudden 🥹🥹

And:

...his cheek nuzzling against his son’s hair. “I love you, too, my sweet little boy.”

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

The last scene is so adorable!! Zayne playing along, pretending not to notice his son AND OMG ALL THE KISSES TO MAKE HIS DAD FEEL BETTER

AND THEN ALL THE KISSES ZAYNE GIVES BACK

MY HEEEEAAAAAARTTTTTT 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

This was so lovely, cutest father-son duo ever. I'm just absolutely in love with this little family, with Zayne practically overflowing with love and care for his wife and son, accepting his fate as a portable A/C as long as he gets kisses and hugs as payment 😍

ANON, I'VE REREAD THIS MESSAGE SEVERAL TIMES MYSELF. I was kicking my feet and giggling. I love it when readers let me know all of the parts they like or even just commenting on each section 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Yes tiny Snowdrop 🤏 cradled in Zayne's arms and sleeping on his chest 🥺 and don't get me started on the skin-to-skin contact with newborn Snowdrop

I trust that MC and Zayne will have a healthy communicative relationship. Their marriage is a partnership and they will support one another. 🥹

omg Anon switch country with me pls I'm still lowkey stuck in winter here lol no jokes, a few weeks ago we had one day 77°F and then the next day we had a blizzard 🙂 It's common here to experience all four seasons within 24 hours 🙂 I'm a hot-weather girlie 🙂 I'm miserable here fighting for my life in negative-degree weathers 🙂

SNOWDROP MAY LOOK LIKE HIS FATHER, BUT HIS GREMLIN TENDENCIES ARE HIS MOTHER'S GENES AT WORK LOL. You're gonna like him in the next story I'm posting. His gremlin genes take center stage lol

I LOVE THE ZOO SCENE TOO. I love the little moments of them as a family of three just as much as I love writing Zayne bonding with his son 🥹

So, I used to take photos of my nieces and my friends' kids when they were babies and toddlers. I don't like making them pose, so I would let them explore an area on their own and I would follow after them with my camera at their height and take photos of them like that. They always come out so sweet and natural, because you're capturing the world through their eyes. 🥹 in case anyone wonders why I may seem to write toddlers and babies pretty well

THE PARK SCENE. No, but why was I crying as I wrote that 🗿 There's a similar scene in a future Sylus + Birdie fic and I nearly sobbed. But that won't be for a while... I want at least three or four Birdie fics before that particular one....

Speaking of Zayne resigning to his fate as a portable A/C... the other day I imagined a cheeky 17-year-old Snowdrop one day hugging his dad from behind and Zayne wonders what's gotten into him.

And Snowdrop being the gremlin that he is just teases his dad and says he wants to use his personal portable A/C one last time before he goes to college. 🥺 Cue Zayne pausing, suddenly finding the moment bittersweet as he quietly scoffs affectionately, "You're just like your mother... Always messing with me."

"I love you, Dad."

“I love you, too, my sweet little boy.”

"I'm not little anymore."

"In my eyes, you'll always be my sweet little boy."

[theoneprecioustome]

Aikoto Moments: Episode Aigis vs The Answer

Finished Episode Aigis, so time to gather what was added & what was removed in comparison to The Answer!

As usual, lots of images and SPOILERS for the entire game below the cut.

I won't be going over the moments that were either still included or left intact, I'll cover that in another post!

Additions

✤ We now have not only an Aikoto Opening, but also an entire song detailing Aigis' feelings after he's gone and throughout Episode Aigis: Disconnected.

✤ We also have a new battle theme, Don't, which focuses on Aigis' feelings during the conflict with SEES all while containing references to her feelings for Makoto ("Only had one wish now it's never gonna come true. Trapped in time, forever in remorse, how could I ever be in peace when nothing else matters to me?")

✤ We get a new cutscene with Aigis' reaching out for Makoto during her awakening.

✤ A new comment from Metis that shares some insight about how Aigis feels at being the Leader instead of Makoto.

✤ When Metis describes the fulfilment she feels whenever Aigis gifts her something, players have the option to let Aigis reply "I think I understand." If they do, they will get this dialogue from Metis.

✤ There's an added line after Mitsuru tries to explain why Yukari has been feeling jealous of Aigis.

✤ Aigis' Trophy is named after her dream of chasing after Makoto.

✤ Aigis now reaches out for Shadow!Makoto when he dissolves before their eyes.

✤ We get two dictionary entries involving Aikoto.

✤ Unlike in the original game, this time Aigis' possible fate is kept from SEES. Selfless as she is, Aigis says she doesn't want them to worry about her when they're focused on Makoto.

✤ After Aigis' awakens to her powers, she is under the impression that reaching the Answer to Life could mean her death. This is the same in The Answer as well, but Episode Aigis adds a new comment from Aigis during her confrontation with Metis showing just how indifferent she has become to her own life. She truly lost her reason to live when she lost Makoto :(

✤ The first line has always been in The Answer, but Aigis saying that she wouldn't willingly put Metis through what she went through herself after losing Makoto is new.

✤ Since the SEES confrontation is now handled differently, some lines are added and some are rearranged. Among the additions is Yukari questioning Aigis' feelings for Makoto, which leads Aigis to reaffirm them before she fights her.

✤ In The Answer, Aigis says that she understands Yukari's feelings. Here, she outright says that she wants him back too.

✤ We get two new shots of the rooftop scene during the Erebus cutscene.

✤ There are a few new lines during the ending, including one where Yukari says Aigis' must have inherited Makoto's power because she's the one most like him.

✤ While this scene is the same in The Answer, this time we're properly shown Aigis' tears 😭

✤ This time around, there are fully visible cherry blossom petals blowing past Aigis as she stands on the rooftop, yet another reference to those last moments she spent with him.

✤ During the ending sequence, we see Aigis looking back over her shoulder as she walks through the Moonlight Bridge (the place that started it all for her and Makoto). Lastly, cherry blossoms welcome her when she reaches the school.

Omissions

✤ Aigis awakening to Orpheus is handled differently. This time we only see Makoto's back (like in Aigis' dream), instead of Makoto smiling at her (in a clear parallel to Makoto's own awakening to Orpheus).

✤ This Elizabeth line seems to be gone. Or at least, I didn't get it.

✤ This heartbreaking game over screen is gone, too :(

✤ In The Answer, when Yukari talks about her promise to Makoto, she explicitly compares it to Aigis' by saying "It wasn't a promise like yours...". Here instead of comparing them, they have Yukari clarify that her promise wasn't made to Makoto, but to herself:

✤ This line below is replaced by Aigis saying that she, too, wants Makoto back.

✤ The lines below were replaced as well:

✤ As she finally breaks down in The Answer, Aigis says that she thinks she's finally at peace with losing him. She no longer says it in Episode Aigis.

✤ The original credits begin with Aigis and end with Makoto (a parallel to the credits of The Journey, which begin with Makoto and end with Aigis), but Makoto was removed all-together from the credits in Episode Aigis :(

[mysteria157]

Moment One: An Old Flame

Rating: Explicit 

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: fluff, profanity, explicit sexual content (whole lotta smut, I’m talking: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, creampie…lol you get it).

Word Count: ~6k

Summary: When Nanami has no choice but to work overtime, you bring him dinner as a surprise. But you unexpectedly find his ex-girlfriend already keeping him company. 

Takes place a few weeks after Chapter 15 of It Had To Be You!

Notes: I had this idea way back when I wrote chapter 15 weeks ago and I finally made it a reality last night LOL. I don’t have a beta reader, so sometimes there may be a mistake or two. I have a habit of being way too detailed when I write, and that includes smut. So hopefully you enjoy it! 

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! Happy reading!

Divider: @saradika | Header: myself

Those Moments In Between Masterlist | Moment Two

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

MINORS DNI

Nanami knows better.

He knows that his ex-girlfriend, Pia, is just as devious as she was when they were in undergrad. 

When they were younger and together, she gave sweetness and tender love that made Nanami stick around a bit longer than he should have. Though they had nothing in common and she was far too outgoing, she helped him embrace many different things that were normally out of his comfort zone.

She taught him how to express public displays of affection in his own way. She taught him how to express what he felt when it came to romantic love. 

He was grateful for it. Truly.

Indirectly, her personality only made him realize just how ill-suited they were for one another despite her good intentions.

Pia was spiteful to those who disagreed with her, disrespectful to those who did not have the same values as her, and outlandishly rude to those who came on to Nanami. She covered it all up with smiles, jokes as a means of apology, and an innocent glint in her eyes that Nanami at the time, didn't have the experience to see through.

Gojo had tried to warn him, year after year.

But he was young--his disdain for Gojo was five thousand times more intense than it is now--so Nanami treated everything that fell from Gojo's lips as a ploy to annoy anyway. 

Nanami remained oblivious to her behavior, caught in the haze of young love, until their final year of college.

That haze had gradually become easier to sift through. The complaints from his friends finally began to register in his mind. Then, one day between classes, a significant moment allowed him to finally blink away the fog.

Every action that he had once dismissed, enticed by the flutter of her lashes and the touch of her lips, rose to the surface from an ocean of naivety--loud and unfiltered.

He despised himself for having to come to the painful realization that Gojo had been right all along. 

Nanami allowed Gojo to mock him for a week before reverting to his habit of telling him to shut up unless he had something meaningful to contribute to their conversations. 

Despite feeling embarrassed and heartbroken, he cut ties--clean and simple--moved on with his life, and never heard from her again.

Until now, that is, as she is currently in Nakameguro for a project to market her wine enterprise. She specifically chose his company to assist in expanding her business in the Japanese market, and he despises every minute of it. 

Pia clearly wants to make up for lost time because she goes to great lengths to be close to him. 

She has a habit of discreetly slipping into the elevator just before it closes, coincidentally finding herself alone with Nanami every time. With a simple smile and a polite greeting, she faces the front and they ride in silence, but with every encounter, she subtly edges closer and closer to him. 

Like clockwork, without fail, she makes a point to peek into his office every morning, disregarding his attempt to keep the door closed. She greets him, extends an invitation to lunch—an invitation he consistently declines—and continues with her day. 

Being a recluse by nature, he rarely leaves his office except for coffee runs to the breakroom or when Yuji relentlessly calls for his presence. But with Pia’s presence, he can hardly focus when she’s around. He refuses to engage in conversation or give her an opening to pursue him romantically. Because he knows she will. So now he makes Yuji come to him and will bring his own coffee from home. 

He chooses not to confide in you about his struggles.

You had only met her once, but it was more than enough. Because to you, Pia is overwhelmingly beautiful, with a well-traveled life and wealth. You are an amateur ceramic artist with modest savings, a mother that you can’t stand, and a body that had recently been stretched and marked by childbirth.

You thought Kento deserved better—deserved someone like Pia. 

You were grappling with the overwhelming responsibilities of taking care of Ulani, trying your best to navigate through postpartum depression in a healthy way, and coming to terms with a body that seemed alien to you.

So the sight of Pia for the first time, radiant and flaunting a badge of honor for dating Nanami, did nothing but throw you into a deep pit of insecurity.

Kento lifted you out of that dark place, demonstrated to you again—without fail—how devoted he was to you then and always.

He made it abundantly clear that he was yours. 

He’s determined to never make you feel unsure of yourself again. 

So it's not a big deal. She’s just a nuisance that he has to dodge for the next week. 

Just another week until she goes back to Italy where she—hopefully—will never return.

What’s the worst that can happen?

It turns out, a lot.

He tries to stay one step ahead, deliberately exchanging a brief greeting with her in the lobby to prevent her from slithering into his office. He even waits until the office is deserted, and the day is nearly over before stepping into the elevator. 

He doesn’t know how he got out scot-free, but Friday rolls around and he thinks that he just might pull this off.

But Yaga chooses today of all days to ask Nanami to stay behind to consolidate a few contracts that only Nanami—unfortunately—has access to. In normal circumstances, Nanami would decline and suggest pushing it off until Monday.

It’s even more unfortunate because he has plans tonight. He wants to help you make dinner and spend time with his daughter and he shouldn’t even have to think about excuses because he hates overtime. But, the consolidation is due Monday, and he wants to get it done now so that he can avoid the hassle later on.

You don’t sound upset when he calls you to break the news. Your usually calm voice is slightly downcast with a gentle sigh that you think he can’t hear.

“I guess it’s rare so I shouldn’t be mad but,” you complain weakly, your words tinged with a slight whine that makes Nanami smirk to himself. “I made Katsudon.” 

He groans, mouth instantly watering at the mere thought. 

“I’ll be home as soon as I can, my love. I promise.” 

You grumble a reply that makes him chuckle, a tender sound resonating deep in his chest as he listens to you tell him that you love him before hanging up the phone.

***

It’s seven o’clock and he’s fighting a migraine. But he’s almost done, and he’s determined to finish the last stack of contracts that require organizing before he can make his way home to you and Ulani.

As he pens his signature on the bottom of one contract, there’s a knock on his office door, prompting him to invite them in—assuming it’s merely the janitor since everyone else on the floor left hours ago. 

That’s all he thinks to himself; he focuses his attention on yet another clause, preparing to initial his name on the side when everything comes to a screeching halt. 

Because standing before him isn’t the janitor—it’s Pia.

Pia, clad in a tight black dress that not only defies workplace etiquette but also starkly contrasts the one she wore earlier in the day.  

Earlier that day, he followed her every movement as she got into her car and drove away, silently relieved that he could finally relax. Yet, here she is; her dark brown wavy hair hanging over her shoulder in a manner far too seductive for his comfort, and black heels clutched in her hands instead of adorning her feet.

It takes him only a second to assess how quickly he can maneuver past her without a word. He will take the steps if he has to, or maybe he can grab the remaining contracts and finish the rest at home and—

“Gojo always mentions how you never stay late anymore, so I’m surprised to see you here,” she purrs, her Italian accent grating against his ears, exacerbating his throbbing migraine behind his eyes. Her lust-filled, indecent intentions taint her dark brown eyes, reinforcing the strong urge within him to leave, quickly. 

He’s not the type of man to belittle a woman’s appearance because they all possess their own beauty. His mother hammered that among other things about the respect of women deep into his skull before he hit puberty. But he’s well-mannered enough to acknowledge beauty and let the line be drawn there—because other women aren’t you, and he doesn’t have a wandering eye. 

He never has and he never will.

“Is there a reason why you are here, Pia?” he questions, discreetly binding the stack of contracts together so he can swiftly grab them along with his blazer and push her out of the way if he has to. “Your project finished at the end of the business day, so I assumed you would be on your way back to Italy.”

She scoffs a deep and guttural noise that makes Nanami’s stomach twirl in distaste and intensifies the pounding behind his eyes. “You know exactly why I’m here, Kento. Don’t be dull. You never were back then, and you aren’t now.”

His stomach churns, the knots tightening with each passing moment between them. The tension becomes unbearable, culminating in a swift rise from his seat as he retrieves his blazer behind his large, deep red chair.

“You need to leave,” he demands, his voice devoid of the polite courtesy he had extended to her during her visit. He tucks the contracts beneath an arm, grabs his car keys, and makes for the door—but she’s quick to sidestep so her frame blocks his path. 

Irritation surges within him, an emotion that others—excluding you—are keen to elicit when they begin to waste his time. 

“Pia, please move out of the way so that I can go home.”

She arches a perfectly groomed eyebrow, adding to the torment coursing through his stomach. “So you’re saying you don’t even want to talk? It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, and you’ve done nothing but avoid me during my entire stay.” Her whiny, petulant tone and childlike frown only serve to trigger flashbacks to times when she didn’t get her way, intensifying the deep divide that caused their separation.

“And you don’t understand the reason why?” he retorts, irritation heavier and thick in his mouth. A frown etches itself onto his lips, and his patience dissipates in the tense air encircling them. 

A noise in the lobby—a noise that implies someone can be listening—makes his heart stammer in his chest and the hairs on the back of his neck rise. 

While she has an agenda, he does not. He refuses to allow others to lose respect for him in this office, thinking he indulges in infidelity during his free time when that couldn’t be further from the truth. He couldn’t care less about others’ opinions, except when it involves you and your relationship—that’s where he draws the line. 

Unaffected by his sarcastic remark, she delicately places a perfectly manicured hand on his chest. He’s quick to react, catching her wrist in a way that makes his blazer fall to the floor, pulling her hand away from him as his body begins to shake in frustration.

 “I don’t know where you’ve gotten the impression that I want anything with you, but I won’t be entertaining it. What we had was a long time ago and it won’t ever be reignited again. Try your best to understand that,” he states firmly.

“But—” she begins to protest.

“Enough, Pia. Leave. Now.” 

He isn’t asking nicely anymore, his head pounding, and the decision to simply push her out of the way is made. Just as he prepares to do so, the door swings open, and the person he longs to see the most but also wishes wasn’t here right now, rushes in.

“Ken, I thought I could bring you dinner and—” you stop mid-sentence, words wedged in your throat as you take in the scene in front of you. You’re holding a Tupperware container, the steam inside condensing along the edges.

Nanami with papers under one arm and the other dropping from a delicate wrist to flop down at his side, his hair disheveled from hours of musing, his face clearly disturbed. And Pia, beautiful and ethereal as usual as she whips around to look at you. 

Since that first day you met her, you haven’t encountered Pia again. And Kento’s unwavering loyalty and trust have provided no reason to entertain the thought of her. 

However, Nanami’s stiff stature, Pia’s tight dress that reveals a bit too much in the front, and the stiletto heels swinging from her finger in one hand make it abundantly clear to you why she is here. 

At seven o’clock at night.

With no one else around.

You want to shy away from the implication, to fend off your surprise with a shy chuckle, and let the poisonous current of insecurity draw you away like that time before. But Nanami had skillfully put those doubts to rest weeks ago. 

Now you’re just irritated.

“Pia? What are you doing here?” You keep your tone light, masking the annoyance bubbling inside you. Pia’s earlier sultry gaze has vanished, replaced by widened eyes and hands smoothing her already unwrinkled dress, anxiously. “Kento told me the project ended a few hours ago. Aren’t you flying back to Italy soon?”

She fumbles, her rose-tinted lips curling as she searches for something to say, gripping her heels tighter in her hand. It’s reminiscent of watching a child scrambling for an excuse after being caught with their hands in a cookie jar.

Nanami remains silent, astonished. In the past, any other woman daring to breathe his air while Pia was present would have been met with scathing words and threats. But now, that Pia is desperately trying to produce an excuse for her late presence within a workplace when she she should be on a flight home.

“She was just leaving, love,” Nanami interjects, trying his best to make the situation as simple as it can be. Pia agrees, blushing and nodding, hastily slipping her heels back on with hands seemingly covered in sweat.

Watching her struggle to secure her heels, her fingers slipping on the buckle, reignites a surge of confidence deep within you. The once persistent insecurity in her presence now feels like a mere joke. In this moment, she becomes the joke. 

And you want to savor every minute of it.

The next words spill from your mouth, impossible to contain. You wiggle the small Tupperware container in your hands, gesturing towards her and offering a shy but satisfied smile.

“I was just bringing my husband dinner,” you chuckle airily, the lie slipping from your lips with ease. You relish the reaction from them both. Pia’s hands slip on her heel strap, causing her to stumble. Nanami struggles to contain his composure, eyes wide as saucers, his breath caught in his throat as your words ring in his ears like a piercing siren.

“Kento is the only one on this floor, it’s awfully late and I doubt you would have left earlier without saying goodbye. Surely you—” you pause, pretending to be taken aback before leveling an accusatory gaze at her. She looks up from her hunched position, hands still fumbling with the straps of her heels, her eyes wide and beautifully tan skin appearing pale. You’re not one for pettiness, but the delight from the sight of her struggling courses through your veins. “Surely you’re not here with the intention to do something else, are you?” 

“No!” she quickly retorts, her voice both loud and tinged with a hint of nervousness that makes the corner of your lip twitch. “No of course not—”

“So what are you doing here?” you cut her off with a narrowing of your eyes, repeating your question from earlier with a touch less feigned innocence, your tone slightly more serious and impatient. 

“L-leaving actually! Just wanted to say goodbye to Kento before my flight in the morning,” she stammers, now standing three inches taller, maintaining an air of elegance and grace even as her embarrassment paints her cheeks red.

She hastily bids Nanami farewell—a choked and tight goodbye—, a lopsided and anxious smile directed at you, and stumbles once more as she hurriedly exits the room, a snort of amusement escaping your lips as she trips before disappearing from your sight.

You close the door behind her, shutting away her presence for good.

The room falls into silence, Nanami’s face turning a vibrant shade of red that forces you to suppress your laughter with every ounce of effort you can muster.

“Love, I can explain—,” he begins, but you promptly cut him off, a giggle escaping despite your best attempts to hold it back. 

You know he would never do anything. Nanami would probably take infinite shifts of overtime instead of letting a woman who was not you touch him. In fact, you heard the entire conversation before you rushed in, and it makes your heart flutter with love that is already overflowing for him. 

“It’s not funny,” he grumbles.

But it’s so funny to watch him squirm, his face burning even more and his movements awkward as he clutches the bundle of disheveled contracts in his hand. His expressions of frustration and his furrowed brow only serve to ignite a warmth in your stomach. 

You love to tease him. And now you’ve been given the perfect opportunity to make him sweat.

“There’s no need to explain, Ken. I’m just messing with you,” you reassure him, taking his free hand and gently pulling him back to his desk. Turning to face his still-nervous figure, you retrieve the papers from his grasp and place them neatly on his large mahogany desk. 

“I heard the entire conversation. I am curious though,” you begin, pressing him down into his chair. He’s silent as he watches you push the chair back a little, so you have room to stand between him and his desk. “What do you think she would have done if I hadn’t come in time?”

“Absolutely nothing because I don’t—” he starts, but his words are abruptly cut off by the touch of your hand gliding against the fabric of his chest. Unlike Pia’s touch, your fingertips radiate heat and beckon him in a way that has his cock twitching in his slacks. His heart skips a beat as he watches your own manicured nails circle the buttons of his dress shirt before undoing them quickly. “We can’t—”

“Why?” you interrupt, your voice low and hot, instantly drying up his throat. Your fingertips dance along the exposed skin of his chest, gently teasing him as your nail flicks against a pink nipple before trailing down between the contours of his abs. You tap your fingers along the downy hair that trails under his slack and his stomach bunches in response, twitching from the stimulation, his heart skipping and his throat tightening slowly. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

He doesn’t. God, he doesn’t, and the words ‘no’ are out of his mouth before he can stop them, giving you his consent even though he’s embarrassed out of his mind. His migraine becomes an insignificant thought, the pulsing from earlier falling into a slow ebb, eclipsed by the escalating desire coursing through his veins. 

Nanami has never been the type of man to do this sort of thing. While he likes to be inside you anytime he can, he cherishes the privacy that safeguards both himself and you, more. 

But he can’t lie to himself that the thought of something happening in this office with you hasn’t crossed his mind multiple times—especially when you used to work together.

The sound of you undoing his belt buckle has his heart racing, thumping loud and heavy in his chest and his face is on fire as he watches you release him from the confines of his pants, his cock already hard and leaking. 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down and finding it difficult to contain your own desire from the sight of him. The area between your legs throbs as you trace your eyes down a cock that you’re intimately familiar with. Warm and achingly heavy, leaking with anticipation and pleading for your touch. His abs tense with a sharp intake of breath as you wrap your hand around him, a pleasurable hiss escaping his throat as he watches you stroke him languidly. 

You press your free hand into the arm of his chair, leaning in until your lips are mere inches apart. Inhaling his ragged breaths, you admire the way his deep brown eyes blow out, leaving only a ring of burnt umber for you to gaze into. 

Your grip on him has his mind foggy, desire overtaking any rational thoughts that he would normally use right about now. 

But you’re so good. 

You’re curling your wrist with every upward stroke just the way he loves and his abs bunch with every jolt of pleasure that zips inside of him.

He has to touch you, has to get his hands on you in some way to ground himself, and he instinctively reaches out for you when suddenly you tsk, pulling back slightly to create more distance between your lips.

“No touching.”

Oh.

You never deny him when you’re both like this. You always want his hands on you. The fact that you’re now denying him, gazing at him with a dangerous look in your eyes, shocks him. And it arouses him to a degree that makes him choke on a breath. 

He sags back into his chair, gasping for breath when your hands trail down to cup his balls. He digs his fingers into the chair’s armrests, scratching red leather, and he’s desperate to keep himself from cumming too soon.

“Did you—did you lock the door?” he manages to gasp, grasping onto any shred of coherent thought he has left.

You tilt your head in confusion, gaze at him with an indifferent stare, and then shrug nonchalantly before sagging down to your knees in front of him. The sight makes his toes curl in his expensive Chukka boots.

The rational part of his mind urges him to get up and check the door. Just get up and make sure the door is at least locked before anything else—but then his thoughts are short-circuiting and stuttering as your tongue slides wet up his shaft and you swallow him down to the base without a care in the world.

The back of his head slams against the cushioned chair as a surge of pleasure courses through his veins. You’re wet and sloppy, teasing him with your gaze as your mouth stretches from the thickness of him—and he’s struggling to hold on, struggling to keep his orgasm at bay even though it’s right there.

He tries to reach for you—tries to card his hands through your hair but you smack it away and glare at him with such a ferocity that he’s embarrassed for even attempting. 

Marketing templates. Morning traffic. A cold cup of coffee. 

He thinks of everything he can to resist the warmth in his stomach and the coil tightening along his spine; because you suck his cock in a way that makes him fidget in his chair, humming and gurgling into his ears in a wicked melody that’s making him go insane.

You’re enjoying every second of this and it only makes him blush harder with just how exposed he is to you right now. The mere weight of his cock in your mouth and the slightly salty taste of him makes your panties damp, your cunt pulsating and aching to be filled. 

And you’ll make sure it happens.

So you patiently wait until he’s panting harshly, his grip on the arm of his chair growing tighter and tighter. You wait until that crazed look dances in his eyes—the one you’re so familiar with right before he cums. And right when he’s on the cusp, you pull away. 

He exhales hard and sinks into his chair almost in relief as the band inside of him relaxes slightly, desperately trying to catch his breath and hissing as the cold air of his office wraps around his wet cock.

“Pia really did have a plan, didn’t she?” you playfully tease, standing to card your fingers through his blonde locks. Your fingertips glide across the faint traces of sweat, your hand moving along with the shake of his head in response to you, his gaze unfocused.

You kick off your shoes, hook your thumbs into the corner of your leggings, and slide them down and off your legs—his eyes following every inch of creamy brown skin that is revealed to him. 

You’re wearing an oversized sweater, a soft cashmere that he got you simply because he wanted, and it now covers your faint stretch-marked thighs. They are your battle scars, your own reminders of the journey your body underwent to grow and birthed the beautiful daughter you both have now.

His breath falters as he watches you gracefully perch on his large desk, placing your legs on top and bending your knees so your fuzzy sock-covered feet press against the rich mahogany. Leaning back on one arm, you effortlessly open your legs for him. His naturally narrow eyes widen at the sight of your white damp panties, and he longs to lick, suck, and slide his cock inside the very place they conceal.

The glint in your eyes is mischievous and taunting, delighting in the way he struggles to stay seated even as you slide one of your hands down into your panties.

“Can I—” he starts, but you cut him off.

“No.” 

You leave no room for argument and don’t offer anything else as you begin to circle your clit leisurely, arching into the touch as echoes of pleasure hum to life. It’s not long before you’re pushing your panties to the side to expose yourself to the open air. Your cunt throbs with desire when you hear Nanami groan softly under his breath. 

You’ve never been this bold, never entertained the thought of anything voyeuristic. But Nanami seems to awaken something within you, something you’re slowly embracing. He’s so shy about sex outside of the privacy of your home, and it only makes this more exciting that he’s even entertaining it now.

“Did she do this with you?” you ask him, your voice breathless as you sink two fingers into your wet cunt. The corner of Nanami’s eye twitches from the sight and you swallow down a giggle that threatens to escape. “Did she ever make you watch her while she touched herself?” 

You moan softly as you curl your fingers up as best as you can from your angle. Nanami’s fingers dig into the leather of his chair with barely contained restraint. 

“Answer me, Kento.”

“No. She didn’t.”

Satisfied with his answer, a sense of pride flaps in your chest, and you gleefully continue fingering yourself in front of him. It always takes you a while to get off with your fingers, so you use that as ammunition to watch Nanami squirm. 

You watch the way his exposed muscular pectorals move with his increasing breaths. You watch the way his cock twitches, hot and heavy against his stomach, leaking precum onto his abs. And you soak up the way he traces his eyes along every inch of you, leaving nothing without his attention.

When you finally cum, sharp and abrupt, he’s hanging on by a thread—ready to abandon your command to be still, yank you to him, and sink inside. 

He watches your cunt flutter around your fingers as you slowly come down from your high, gasping like an angel into the office air. Breathless, you stand on shaky legs and move to stand before him, lifting slick-covered fingers to his mouth which he readily opens without command, desperate to taste you any time he can. He groans softly against your fingers, eyes drooping, tongue sliding wet between your digits. The sight makes your cunt throb weakly, faint embers that had just died down, licking to life again.

You taste like everything to him, everything he wants and everything he needs.

But it’s not on the menu tonight.

You straddle his lap wordlessly and smack his hands away when he tries to wrap large hands around your waist. He swallows his frustration, yearning to touch you, yet willing to comply for the promise of more.

Using the remnants of your arousal between your legs, you coat him, stroking him enough to make sure you take him effortlessly, and then you guide him to your entrance and sink down to the hilt. The feel of him inside you is glorious, stretching you in the way you like that makes your cunt tremble to life around him, grateful for his presence once again. 

“Fuck,” he hisses—chokes with eyes squeezed shut, hand gripping the chair until it groans. You’re so wet, so fucking warm and tight that he’s shaking--practically trembling and swallowing a whimper as he fights the urge to grab your hips.

You didn’t need much to get used to him. You’re a masochist when he stretches you—you crave the way your cunt tenses from the intrusion, gripping him like a vice.

You’re a champ, enveloping him and giving him little time to acclimate before you’re bouncing on his cock with a finesse that would make any woman jealous.

You slide both hands into the hair at his nape and pull so that he cranes his neck back to gaze up at you. He’s slack-jawed, panting with breaths that tickle your lips, his eyes heavy with desire. 

“Did she ever fuck you like this, hmm? Come into your office when you would work long hours and ride you until you couldn’t see straight?” 

He can only shake his head ‘no’ in response, his throat too dry to speak, his lungs burning. He craves your touch, your lips on him, something to anchor him as he struggles to keep up. It’s the only way he can stay sane when the neurons in his brain are frying by the second. He begs wordlessly, groans deeply up into your mouth, pleading for anything.

And thankfully, you grant him a searing kiss. Your lips mold against his, tongues battling for dominance that he willingly surrenders to. His every thrust hits that perfect spot within you, brushing away hints of oversensitivity and bringing forth faint pleasure that makes you dig your hands into blond tresses and pull tight.

The pleasure caresses the insides of your thighs and tightens the muscles of your legs. Every brush of your clit against the skin of his abs shoots electricity throughout your cunt and up to the base of your spine, igniting a simmering fire that begins to heat deep pools of lava that reside there.

You pull away from his lips with a harsh moan, gasping into the warm air of his office, riding him harder to the point that the legs of his chair begin to squeak.

He knows you well. He knows how you get demanding and delirious and incoherent when you ride him, and he loves to count the seconds until that switch in your brain goes off. And it’s not even a second later when—

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good. So, so good,” you moan against the skin of his lips. “Fucking me just the way I like Ken.”

He watches every move you make, tracing his eyes over the contours of your face and the way your loose curls cling to creamy brown cheeks.

His eyes roll when he picks up your whispered chants. You’re a woman possessed and you take what you want—when you want. And he gives and gives with every yes, yes, more Ken, you’re so good, please, please, please yes!

Your pupils are blown and glazed over with desire, but suddenly your brows furrow in frustration. 

“She walked in here in a tight dress and high heels looking to get you in the same position that I have you now. But at the end of the day, you’re mine.”

There’s not an ounce of coyness in your words. You’re so serious, firm, and unyielding that it makes him shudder, a groan sliding from his parted lips, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and—

“Look at me,” you command, voice low, panting from exertion and the feel of your body beginning to draw tight with embers of a powerful orgasm. His eyes roll back without hesitation, locking with yours. “Unless—unless some other circumstance tears us apart, you—you are mine. Pia can have all the money and fame, but she will never have you. I do.”

“Yes,” he whispers, the word tumbling from his lips without faltering. His hips struggle to keep up and his thighs begin to stiffen as pleasure begins to curl deliciously so that his hands dig into the chair. His fingers slip against the leather, sweaty and tingling.

“You’re the father of my child.”

“Yes,” he chants again, breathless and quivering as the rubber band along his spine grows taught, stretching and shaking from the tension.

“You sleep next to me. You kiss me. You fuck me.”

“Yes, only you—only you.”

You tremble from his words, satisfaction oozing like hot thick globs along your skin. “That’s right, Kento,” you purr as your hips begin to roll against him, your clit carrying currents of pleasure through your veins, that pool of lava at the base of your spine boiling and rising to the brim.

“Please,” he whispers, his plea pulling you from your desire-induced haze. You look down at him, admire the flush of his cheeks, the warmth of his breath against the collarbone of your sweater, the sweat that beads along his hairline. “Please.”

“Please what?” you tease, trying to maintain a playful demeanor even though your hips are beginning to ache from overuse. You come to a stop on top of him, your breaths mingling together.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, always gentle and caring, even when he’s bursting from the seams. You love him so fucking much.

“Will you make me cum?”

“Always,” he responds without hesitation, his words filled with conviction. You lean in, pressing your lips against his, savoring the affection he willingly gives you. When you pull away, you brush thick blonde locks from his forehead, exposing more of his sharp features that will never fail to make your heart race.

“Then touch me, Ken,” you whisper, your voice laced with desire and anticipation.

Without wasting a moment, he swiftly lifts you in his arms, his cock still nestled inside as he carries you towards his desk.

Your breath catches as you stare up at him, the sound of papers scattering to the floor filling the air. He pulls your sweater up, revealing every inch of your faintly stretch-marked belly, before tugging down a cup of your bra, heady eyes watching as one of your breasts spills from its confines. 

He’s too fast. You fumble for words and let out a surprised yelp when he yanks your waist toward the edge of the desk. He presses your knees as close to your chest as you will allow, and then he slams into you once—and then twice before picking up a rhythm that makes your toes curl.

He devours you, tongue flicking and swirling wet and dripping around your exposed nipple as he pounds into you unabashedly, the desk squeaking and groaning from his efforts.

All bravado that you had earlier splinters away with each smack of his muscular hips against you, the skin of his abs brushing against your clit deliciously, coaxing moan after moan from your lips. His tongue flicks your nipple again before he bites the hardened bud, and your cunt flutters—clenches around him, your thighs beginning to twitch even though they’re pressed to your chest.

“I’m all yours. Always yours,” he whispers against your lips, blonde tresses gliding against your cheeks.

You hope there’s no one on this floor, or that no one has decided to come back for something because the last thing they need to hear is Nanami Kento, Director of Strategic Partnerships, railing his girlfriend on his over-priced, too-large mahogany desk.

You can barely breathe, your moans growing in pitch, the sound of skin on skin echoing through his office, your hands sliding up to dig fingers into the skin of his back. You don’t even have the chance to tell him you’re close. 

The stroke of him inside you, the slap of his skin against your bundle of nerves, and the feel of his mouth trailing along the sweaty column of your neck with a deep and heavy cum for me baby breaks the seal inside of you.

The lava boils over—pools along your bones, hot and delicious and caressing every nerve ending within you, your cunt squeezing him without remorse. You can’t help the loud moan that shakes from your lips, growing in pitch when the pleasure seems to spike and overheat you in oversensitivity, your entire body tingling and shaking like an exposed nerve.

Nanami takes every ounce of pleasure you offer. Everything, every part of you is precious—treasured in a way that no one else will ever be able to comprehend. He takes every breath, every hitch in your throat, every droplet of sweat on your skin, every whimper and moan and scratch of your nails against him. He savors it all—needs it to survive, to know that you have chosen him, that you want him, that you love him.

You’re the only woman who makes Pia tremble and stumble over her words. You are a force to be reckoned with, and he knew that the moment you snapped at him when you first met. You’re fierce in the way you love, strong with the words you say, and so fucking beautiful that he cant help but feel proud of just how threatened Pia was by the sight of you.

Those words you spoke confidently to her have played like a record in his head since you forced him into his chair.

“I was just bringing my husband some dinner.”

My husband.

My husband.

He’s thought about it, so many fucking times. And he swears it will happen. Soon.

One day you’ll be his wife.

His wife.

His wife.

His thoughts come to a sudden halt because he’s cumming, catching him off guard, that rubber band snapping in half, pleasure yanking from the base of his spine and pulling a harsh groan from his chest as he spills inside of you.

His hands slip from behind your knees and smack onto the wood of his desk and you wrap your legs around his waist as you both regain your breath. He’s putty against you, melted and loose and molding against every crevice of you as he takes in your intoxicating scent. Lilac from your body wash, shea butter from your lotion, and a hint of cooking grease that wafted onto your skin when you made dinner.

Your fingers lovingly comb through his sweaty hair, your legs blissfully achy, your cunt satisfied and throbbing, and your heart coming to normal sinus rhythm in your chest.

“Ome is probably wondering where I am,” you finally speak, breaking the tranquil silence of his office. “She offered to watch Ulani when I left.” Nanami hums against you, a low and gravelly sound that’s typical of him when he’s ready to go to sleep. “Bring the rest of the contracts home. No more overtime.”

As if he would even entertain the thought of being in this office a moment longer. “Okay,” he agrees, pressing his lips to your neck. He still has his arms around you, still connected to you despite having softened inside you minutes ago. 

But you don’t mind. You cherish these moments with him, holding them dear in your heart, knowing that each one is a gift.

Because you’re the only one who can revel in the way he needs you, the way he craves having his hands on you, the way he murmurs his adoration into your skin. And you love every bit of it. You love him.

“Will she be back?” you ask, a hint of hesitance in your tone.

He shakes his head, groaning softly as you scratch that spot behind his ear. “No. Never.”

“She better not,” you jest, an eyebrow lifting to the ceiling, gazing at no one. “If she pulls shit like that again, there won’t be a happy ending for you.”

He barks out a laugh against your neck, lifting his head to take in your blissed-out form. Fatigue weighs heavy on your eyes, your lashes delicately curled, your hair spread out on his desk to make you look like the most otherworldly thing he has—will ever see. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, love.”

He kisses you tenderly once and then twice, before resting his head against your chest, the soft cashmere of your sweater caressing his cheek. His eyes catch something on the corner of his desk.

The Tupperware of food that you brought still emits steam, a homemade Katsudon by your hands, just for him.

His heart thrums in his chest, full and filled with warmth.

His wife.

Soon.

Thanks for reading!

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

[hold-him-down]

🤝 because I know your taste :)

Notes: somewhere late first year, in response to this ask thing.

Some help performing a basic task:

“Can I help?” Eliza Bennett asks from the doorway. Three weeks ago, it may have startled Leo, but she’s been a near constant presence in Luke’s house for the last week.

Leo sits on the floor, a 5,000 piece puzzle courtesy of Rob (partly, Leo thinks, in thanks for helping to keep Eliza occupied), laid out in front of him. “Sure,” he says, moving to make room for her. 

She picks up a piece and Leo says, “Here,” pointing to a pile of like-colored pieces. 

It’s not long before she catches on, and they work in silence for a full three minutes before she drops her first question, which is, unfortunately, deeply aligned with what Leo has come to expect from her.

“Do you get to do puzzles at the training sites?” she asks. 

Leo’s brow furrows and he continues examining his piece. He has, on at least four separate occasions, asked Rob how he would prefer that he handle these questions. Each time he is met with an apology, and with a promise that Rob will address it, and a blanket statement of approval for Leo to handle it however he’s comfortable. Rob insists that he does not need to feel obligated to answer her questions, but that, the more aware she has become of the system in general, the more questions she has, and her curiosity has become increasingly aimed toward understanding what Leo's specific experience has been.

Rob is also careful to assure Leo that Eliza has become a somewhat adamant opponent to the system at the ripe age of six, and that even though she seems to understand, generally, the absolute shit show that is the current state of our country, she shouldn't be explicitly trusted to not repeat anything that he tells her. It's been a challenging balance, to say the least, but Leo enjoys Eliza's company, in large part due to the fact that she does not tiptoe around him.

She must notice that he’s held onto one piece for a little too long and she says, “Sorry. I shouldn't have asked that.”

Leo smiles and shakes his head, then clears his throat. “It’s okay, it’s just… it’s tough to explain the sites to anyone, there's a lot of... complicated rules and expectations that I don't think most would find very interesting.” 

He places his piece into his pile and says, “I was able to do puzzles and read, or paint, or play the piano, if I wanted to. I just had to follow a schedule, but there were plenty of times for me to do things I enjoyed.” He hopes she’ll leave it at that, but knows that she almost definitely will not.

“Oh,” she says, and goes back to sorting puzzles. 

A mere thirty seconds pass before she asks, “Uncle Luca lets you do whatever you want any time though, right?” 

Leo chokes on nothing, but disguises it the best he can with a laugh. “Yes,” he says. “Any time I want.”

[sassy-classy-fangirl]

We don’t judge - we can all cry together 😂

[ghostchems]

about me

hello friends! i am chems, i’m 29 and my pronouns are she/her. i write for ghost mainly but have been known to dabble in bg3 and arcane (potentially hehe). i tend to write spooky, sexy and sad fics but have been known to throw some fluff in here

i write for all the papas but am most comfortable with terzo and copia.

my blog is 18+! if you follow and are a minor, i will block.

ask box info:

when sending in asks, headcanons, prompts, etc. please consider what i do and do not write about.

mainly because there is a reason i don’t write about certain things. these reasons are:

personal preference: i am just not into certain things! and that’s okay! i’ve supported fics of things i’m not super into in the past because they are well written and good but. i don’t write it myself.

personal experiences: there’s a big thing i don’t write about because of some very very personal experiences i have had. again, i have supported fics about certain things that i would never write about bc they are well done and good but i just. can’t write it. brings up stuff. makes me feel not good.

as a reminder, i typically write papa x fem/gn!reader. i dabble with silco and raphael but i mainly stick with ghost. just like it is urged to tag posts that have potentially triggering topics in them, think about this before sending in your requests because some requests i've gotten have been a bit triggering to me.

i reserve the right to ignore any ask that i do not vibe with.

just tumblr things:

remember that we are all here for fun. this is supposed to be FUN! we are here to support each other and indulge in great fics and art. it’s not all about reach and popularity (though likes and reblogs are so very appreciated)

if you don’t like something, don’t comment. ignore and move on. people are allowed to like what they like!

my viewpoints are my own and they are never meant to offend or hurt anyone’s feelings

i will talk to anyone! you can just message me and i will answer. it’s true. ask anyone :)

~ao3~

~tumblr masterlist~

stinkily,

chems

[honeydukesheroine]

Masterlist

Writings, author and fic recommendations

Multi-Chapter (WIP)

🏔️ The In-Betweens (6th Year)

Multiple POV (Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione). 115k+ words. Harry/Ginny. Ron/Hermione. Canon-compliant HBP missing moments, emotional landscaping, expansion on canon.

Short Fics

💫 One Shots

Missing Moments: The In-Betweens (6th Year): moments outside the main narrative Go With Grace: Ginny HBP/DH missing moment Holy Ground: Hinny, post-DH, Ginny's graduation Hush: Hinny, godfather!Harry

🍬 Microfics

Star: Hinny HBP missing moment Believe: Hinny HBP missing moment Secret: Ginny DH missing moment Stop: Ginny, motherhood Cheer: Potter family fluff Freeze: Potter family fluff

Inspirations and Fic Recs

🥂 Fic Authors & Artists That Inspire

FloreatCastullum GinFizz thegirlwhowrites642 GreenhouseThree Annerb blvnk

🌊 All Time Favorite Fics

Not From Others by FloreatCastullum Might Discuss the Match by FloreatCastullum Quidditch Is For Losers by GinFizz Ginny Weasley and the Half-Blood Prince by RRFang Orchards by Whinlatter Back to the Eclipse by thegirlwhowrites642 Twenty-Two Days by BrightlyBound

Thanks for reading! 🌤️