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#idgaf about you or your parents
albtrosz · 6 months
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just saw someone’s post on reddit in which they said that their girlfriend had said during a fight that she was not attracted to her anymore because she has gained weight saying quote-unquote that she let herself go and i honestly want to kill this girl and her entire family
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lowcallyfruity · 5 months
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Guys I thought we hated the shroud parents- I thought this was a whole thing one time when we talked about how they’re probably not the best parents- guys am I going insane I swear there was a point in time when we hated them- guys-
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wintersettled · 4 months
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Using a female characters quotes and characteristics to attribute them to a male character instead is sooo crazy like I knew batfans loved to do this but being this overt about it is mad 😭
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softwarmfur · 8 months
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when you get this ask you have to answer with 5 of ur fav songs and then send this ask to 10 of ur favourite followers !
Eeeuuuuuuugh....so hard to choose....okay these are not my top 5 but they are 5 I have randomly selected out of all my favorite songs:
- RELIGIOUS MAN - Mister Loco
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- Fire is Coming - Flying Lotus and David Lynch
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Public Pervert - Interpol
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Shredder sequel - Little Wings
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Little Pleasures - TOKiMONSTA and Gavin Turek
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awkwardexxodus · 6 months
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got sent that video about how to ask smth from a person with adhd and it was just top 5 ways to make them feel guilty & anxious... well guess what buddy: we get used to it! if you dare say 'yea id ask you to do this thing but i know you wont do it' you will receive a loud & clear 'alrighty!!! go do it yourself then ^_^'
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thesmokinpossum · 11 months
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Bruh, I kept seeing that post about mama bear from the Berenstain Bears being 27 years so I went and checked to see if it was actually true…Well, it is but I also learned that papa bear is canonically 39 years old, which wouldn't be that disturbing except for the fact that their eldest son is 10-11 years old (!!!) and now I'm genuinely grossed out
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gender-euphowrya · 2 years
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i know our fatphobic cultures have deepfried and glassblown people's brains but it always boggles my mind when a fat person is fatphobic ??? what are you doing
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alarrylarrie · 2 years
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oflgtfol · 1 year
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customer not wearing a mask: *gestures to my mask* do they make you wear it or are you just doing it?
me: oh no one makes me. im just wearing it
him: oh ok. not to shame you or anything. i get it, people are gross, haha
me: haha.
#if you ever make a comment about my mask as someone who does not wear it. idgaf what your intentions are#just merely commenting about the fact im wearing it certainly makes me feel like youre shaming me#especially bc who is ‘THEY’ ??#the government?? there hasnt been a mask mandate since 2021#(wait no sorry i think it ended 2022)#my manager at work??? shes not wearing one im literally the only person in this store employee or customer wearing one#my .. i dont know … my fucking parents? im 21 i make my own decisions#like who tf is ‘THEY’ ????#brot posts#the solidarity i have w the handful of people still wearing masks is unmatched#i had a customer who was wearing a mask compliment me on mine and it was like hehe yeah i like yours too ^w^ !!#so im fine with people commenting about it#its just wildly different connotations depending on what you say and if youre also wearing one#someone who doesnt wear one asking me why i wear one will always come across as antagonistic#and it will literally always put me on the defensive#especially fi it comes from a customer and im forced to be polite in mt answer#like yea customers are fucking gross AND i love the privacy of not letting customers see my face#but i cant say that. to a customer. and like what do you want me to agree with you? you put me in an awkward position#where i can either defend myself and possibly offend you or have to lie to be polite#so i always have to go the non answer route and just laugh it off and not actually say anything in response#its just so uncomfortable like why are you putting me in this position#just let me fucking wear my mask why do i always have to be on the defensive about it
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alexjcrowley · 9 days
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I love watching movies that try to be The Big Short and fail
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partsnservice · 29 days
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fnarf fanbase is so fucking annoying anymore if i shared my au and got a single "oh this is just willcare..." comment id kill myself in front of them to change the course of their lives forever
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the-boy-branithar · 2 months
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Do people think that "I hate children" types are just. going to the park to beat up five year olds? What the fuck is up with all these people taking it so personally that some people find kids unbearably annoying and don't want to be around them? It's actually fine to not like kids, mind your own business.
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imjustlaughingalong · 9 months
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Maybe I'm misinterpreting or just being silly, but like...it very much feels like my father is making an earnest effort (whether he admits or not) to replace every aspect of his previous marriage and consequently family with this new woman and the "childless carefree bachelor" life he "deserves"
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f0point5 · 5 months
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would you consider writing the time when max realized that he loved yn?
i remember that he was like in a mindset of idgaf what happens with her im js happy being best friends and having her in my life but i wonder how he got to that point
The way this came out…idk I hope you like it 😂 I really wish I’d retconned this whole situation but I stayed true to the fic timeline.
I just…I really hope you don’t hate it 🫠
✨Set after Max wins his 3rd championship in Qatar✨
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Honestly, who (is he) to fight the alchemy?
Max has been in love before. He knows what it feels like. It felt like winning a race. The adrenaline, the elation, the satisfaction, the sliver of relief. He didn’t think there was a better feeling, and if you feel that when you’re with someone, then that must be love.
He never felt like that with you. So he wasn’t in love. He loved you, but he wasn’t in love. Thank God for that, he’d always thought to himself. Max didn’t put effort into games he wouldn’t win and the games you played with men didn’t have a rule book. He was just so lucky, to have you as a friend, and a roommate, and a feline co-parent, and that’s how it would stay.
Except, when the journalist had asked him if you were going to live with him after he retired, he didn’t know what to say. Of course you would, except, how would your boyfriend feel about that? And of course he wanted you to, but he wanted a family, too. But you were family, in some complicated way that he’d never realised before that moment might mean that you wouldn’t always be…with him.
And he didn’t have the desire or the language skills to explain that to a random German journalist. He’d rattled off some answer about how he never knew what the future would bring. It was true, he didn’t think much about the future. But he should have, because when he did it always had you in it.
He wanted a house, and a wife, and kids. It wasn’t like he envisaged doing all that with you. Except, he hadn’t envisaged doing any of it without you, either. It was always you imagined having breakfast with, you he imagined would teach his kids to ski, you he thought about when he thought about buying one of those mansions in the hills above Monaco. Naively, he hadn’t imagined either of you with partners that would mind you and Max living your lives together. It sounded fucking stupid when he thought about it. But, it’s not like he was going to marry you, because he’s not in love with you.
It’s not like I’m in love with her. He’d said that before.
Aren’t you, Max?
Isn’t he?
Is he?
So now here he is, at this totally-not-a-party party, celebrating his this third world championship, wondering if he’s in love. Wondering if that even matters. The music is loud, not enough to drown out his thoughts. He can’t even drink too much because he still has a race tomorrow. He feels lightheaded enough.
He doesn’t know why he’s questioning himself. He has an answer. He knows what being in love feels like, and he doesn’t feel that about you. How he does feel about you, is…not quantifiable. Except he’d really like a name for it right about now. One that’s not going to spin his whole world off its axis. But then, he’s not exactly the axis, is he? Not really.
He should feel like the centre of the universe tonight. He’s lost count of how many times he’s received praise and congratulations, plaudits, and pictures, even gifts. Everyone wants to be in his orbit, everyone wants to talk to him, everyone except you.
You’re leaning against the balcony, bopping along to the music, talking to his dad of all people, your flushed face and lazy grin telltale signs you’ve had too much to drink. Jos is as close as he ever gets to smiling, a telltale sign he’s had too much to drink, and the two of you are, as usual, talking over each other. His eyes linger on your long legs and gentle curves. It would be cutting a corner, to say he’s in love with you, because how can you not be at least a little bit infatuated with the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen? But that’s not love, exactly. Even half drunk, with all this talk of spinning and the party beginning to blur at its edges, the only thing he can see clearly is you. You don’t even notice him looking, because you’re so used to feeling eyes on you.
No, being around you has never felt like winning much of anything. It actually feels a bit like he’s fighting for his life. It feels like…driving, he realises, as the gin starts to hit.
Being around you was like being in the RB19. Like being behind the wheel of something that could kill you, but fits you like a second skin. Like the illusion of having control of a force of nature. It was like living on a knife edge, but building a home there. Comfortable with the uncomfortable, they’d called him, and nothing had ever made him as uncomfortable as you.
If that was being in love, he’d probably been in love with you for as long as his dad said he was.
You don’t notice him looking, but Jos does. He waves Max over, and Max is glad for an excuse. His body gets up before he’s decided to, and he blinks furiously as he walks, trying to focus his thoughts enough to hold a conversation with you when he’s beginning to think he might-
“Maxy,” you say, grinning like it’s the first time you’ve seen him all night.
Fuck. Fuck.
Oh, fuck. The gin’s coming back. For a second he feels like he’s either going to ask you to marry him or vomit all over you.
“I’m leaving. She’s all yours,” Jos says, and Max steadies himself. His dad leans over and gives him one last hug before switching to Dutch. “Get her to bed. And yourself, also. You’ve still got to race tomorrow,”
Max nods and waves him off, closing his arms around you when you wobble, leaning into him for stability. Jos gives you a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, and you teeter again, pushing you further into Max. The extra weight is like a balm on what is now a gaping, raw wound, with the nerves exposed. He will never recover from this.
You turn in his arms, scrunching your nose in displeasure as you look up at him. “I hate this hat,” you flick the brim of his World Champion cap. “Worst hat they ever made you. Next year, we do a better one,”
“Okay,” he says, chuckling as the hat leaves his head.
“Can I have this?” You’ve already put it on.
“Sure,”
Take it. Take my Valkyrie. Take the trophy. Take my last name.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He doesn’t know how he’s looking at you. Is it different than he looked at you two hours ago? Different then when you were 19?
He just shrugs, tipping the hat back for you, since it’s so big. “You’re drunk,” he yells over the music.
You lean in, so close that he’s intoxicated by the scent of your perfume, champagne, and Red Bull. He turns away from you slightly, because he’s had too much to drink to be this close to you.
“I know,” you whisper to him, your lips grazing his cheek as you talk. That’s not helping. He turns back to you, finding your eyes searching his. For the first time, he’s worried what you might see. Because you’ve always seen him too clearly. It was awful, then exhilarating, now it’s just fucking terrifying. Your eyes narrow and Max thinks you’re about to outright accuse him of wanting- “You’re supposed to be drunk, too,”
He laughs. He laughs at your pout, at getting away with it, for a little while longer, at least, and he laughs because on the night he’s won a world championship he realises he lost his heart a long time ago.
Loving you didn’t feel like a winning a race, it felt like driving in one. And after all, isn’t driving all he ever wanted to do?
“I am, Engel,” he says, “trust me, I am.”
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dollfacefantasy · 1 year
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Video Games
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, oral (f receiving)
summary: you're playing video games when leon feels a little needy
word count: 1.9k
a/n: hi everyone, i'm back with another piece. thank you so so much to everyone who supported my last post (especially if you reblogged and/or left a comment, hugging you through the screen rn). And if you followed me, hi! happy to have you here :) it means a lot to me, and i hope people find some enjoyment in this post as well. this post has nothing to do with the song video games, but i love lana and wanted to use that picture so idgaf. also, all the games mentioned are ones i really loved when i was younger. i'd love to hear some you guys like if you want to share. again, feedback, likes, follows, and reblogs are appreciated! <3
You were so excited when your parents called you and told you they were bringing by your old Playstation 2 today. They were cleaning out the garage and found the dusty, old box that contained the system and all your favorite games from when you were young. Leon was sitting on the couch, watching you wander around as you spoke into the phone. He had returned from a difficult mission recently and your joyful presence alone made everything seem brighter. He smiled at the ways your eyes lit up when you laughed and recalled old memories. He’d gently reach out and stroke your hip when you’d walk past the sofa, lost in your conversation.
About an hour later, you were rushing out the front door to retrieve your box of nostalgia. Leon trailed behind with his eyes full of love for you. He takes the box of stuff as you briefly talk to your mom and thank her for making the stop. He carries the box back into the house for you. It wasn’t that heavy. You definitely could have done it yourself, but he couldn’t get enough of how that sweet smile would spread across your face when you said thank you and gave him a big kiss on the cheek.
The two of you set up the console together in your living room. His strong arms hold the tv at an awkward angle as you snake behind it to plug in the cords in all the different ports. His eyes can’t help but run along your body. He can’t help but notice how your shorts ride up as you bend over or how your back arches while you strain to reach the back of the screen. He’s snapped out of his lustful daze when he hears you say “Got it!” and pull back from behind the tv. He puts the monitor back in place and you hug him from behind, pressing soft kisses to his back while thanking him again for his help.
“It’s nothing, Baby,” he says softly, turning to face you and kissing the top of your head.
You smile up at him before eagerly pulling him to sit on the couch with you. You rifle through your box of old games, pulling out your beaten-up copies of Sly Cooper and Silent Hill. Your eyes sparkle with excitement as you gush to him about your favorite parts and all the fun you used to have playing them with your friends. His heart aches with the love he feels just from hearing you speak with such passion.
“Why don’t you show me some?” he suggests as you continue looking through the box on your lap.
“You want to watch me play video games?” you ask as if it’s the nicest thing you’ve ever heard. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to be bored.”
He laughs slightly like even the idea of being bored while spending time with you was ridiculous. “C’mon, you’re all excited over this stuff, and you’re not gonna play?” he asks, “I’ll be fine. Maybe you can teach me your tricks.”
“Yeah, I’m a real pro,” you joke sarcastically, but your smile remains genuine. You decide on playing Tomb Raider and hop up to put the game in. Again, Leon can’t help how his eyes are drawn to the fabric of your bottoms tightening around your ass as you squat to insert the game. You return to your seat and get comfy against his side with his arms around your shoulder.
You start playing, your smile widening as you hear the familiar music and begin remembering the controls like the last time you played was only yesterday. Leon watches the screen as much as he can, but his real focus is on you. The way your fingers frantically mash at the buttons while fighting an enemy, how you tense and press against him when you think you’re going to die, your half-assed justifications for mistakes you make, blaming the age of the controllers. He loved you so much that his limbs nearly trembled with want for you. Everything about you drove him wild. You smelled so good and your body was so warm nestled against his.
He keeps watching you, and it’s becoming overwhelming, his desire for you. He leans his head down, brushing your hair away, and starts gently kissing the open expanse of your neck. You bite your lip as a knowing smirk rises on your face.
“I knew you’d get bored,” you tease, tilting your head a little to give him more room. He takes the invitation and moves his lips with more intent. 
“I’m not bored. I just need to feel you,” he defends between kisses, “You keep playing.” He adjusts on the couch so he’s lower and has a better angle on your neck. His arm that isn’t around you caresses your stomach slowly.
You try to focus on your game, but it’s difficult when you have his hands and lips coasting over you, his hot breath on your neck. Your own breathing hitches when his hand on your stomach slides up to fondle your tits. Your fingers start feeling useless on the controller, fumbling between buttons as you try to continue playing. His teeth scrape along your neck. It’s the last thing you can take before you make too many mistakes and die. The menu comes up to reload the game and your head falls back against the cushion.
“Leon,” you whine playfully, “You’re making me die.”
“‘M Sorry, Baby,” he mumbles, “Just can’t get enough of you.” He continues kneading your breasts and showering your neck with kisses as you try to survive the level you’re playing. Heat spreads through your body and slick begins collecting between your thighs causing you to squirm a bit. Leon smirks against your skin, sensing the effect he has on you.
He kisses your neck a few more times before he moves his mouth down your arm while easing himself onto the floor. He presses a final tender kiss to your hand gripping the controller before settling on his knees between your legs. You know what’s coming, and it causes your cheeks to tint a soft red. The sight only excites Leon more. His fingers tuck beneath the waistband of your shorts and slip them down. He lifts your lush thighs to rest on his shoulders and pulls you closer so that you're slouching against the cushions.
“Leon, I’m gonna have to start all over again,” you say, your voice softer from your arousal. You try to seem focused, but your attention to the game is waning with each of his touches.
He works his mouth along the smooth skin of your inner thighs before dragging his nose along the cloth covering your center, inhaling you. The scent sends his blood rushing to his cock. He lays a kiss to the fabric as he hums in response. “I’ll make it up to you, Sweetheart. Promise.”
He hooks his finger around your panties and pulls them off. You feel his breath against your wet cunt, the sensation sending a chill through you. You take your lip between your teeth again while keeping your eyes on the television. In your peripheral vision, you can see him staring into you, gazing at you like you’re a work of art. He starts rubbing his thumb up and down your folds slowly, not with enough pressure to give you real pleasure, just the right amount to tease.
“You’re fucking soaked, Angel. Gotta have a taste,” he murmurs before swiping his tongue through your pussy. You let out a short moan at the feeling. Leon wraps his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place as he starts to make out with your cunt. His tongue flattening and dragging against your dripping core, lapping up every drop of you he can.
Your eyes roll back and your fingers spasm on the controller before you put it to the side and grab Leon’s hair. He groans as you tug him closer, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking. You whimper and buck against his face. He knows all your attention is on him now. Knowing he made you feel so good that you had to focus on him had his pants feeling even tighter. He looks up at you, his eyes clouded with lust and your slick coating his lips. 
“Taste so sweet, Baby,” he breathes, thumbing your clit as he speaks, “Could do this for hours if you let me. Have your pretty pussy cumming over and over.” 
He buries his face back into your cunt and fucks his tongue into you. You gasp and writhe above him. Your head pushes back against the couch cushions. Your thighs start to squeeze around his head, and he loves it. He pushes even deeper, nose bumping your clit as he works. You whine and your hands fly up to cover your face as your cheeks feel hot.
He gives your thigh a quick pinch and pulls back. “No hiding, sweet girl. Wanna see and hear everything you give me.”
You slide your hands down and off of your face. Before you can even think of a response, his tongue is back to flicking against you. You moan a bit louder and your eyes flutter as the band of heat in your belly starts to tighten. Your thighs quiver, and Leon’s grip on you gets stronger as your hips try to shift.
Your chest heaves with your heavy breathing as your hands press into the couch cushions. His eyes are fixed on your face, savoring every sweet noise and expression. Your body shakes harder and you know the finish is near. You look down into his eyes, and the sight of his face buried between your thighs with that intense gaze trained on you almost makes you cum on the spot.
“Fuck, Leon. I’m gonna cum. Can’t hold on,” you whimper, your eyes squeezing shut as your voice breaks into moans.
“Look at me, Baby. Let me see those gorgeous eyes while you explode,” he says before working his tongue with even more dedication. You give him what he wants, looking into his eyes as you reach the peak. You cry out and claw at the couch cushions as you release. Your hips sputter against his face and your thighs clamp around his head. Your eyes stay locked on his, letting him see how he unravels you. You hear him groaning and feel his body rolling a bit as he devours you through your orgasm.
He keeps lapping at your folds as you come down, getting a final taste before he pulls away. He plants one last kiss on your clit before rising up and leaning down to kiss your lips sweetly. You kiss back and softly moan as you taste yourself on his lips. You grab his wrist as you pull back. “Need me to return the favor?’ you say and give him another kiss.
“No, Honey. I’m satisfied, trust me,” he hums and kisses back. You notice the dark spot forming on his pants and your blush returns. The thought that he could feel such pleasure simply from pleasuring you made your stomach flutter. He pulls back from your lips and strokes your bottom lip with his thumb, admiring your features. “I’m gonna change my pants, and then you can show me some more of your game. If you want to,” he says.
You glance back at the tv which had been displaying the reload menu for a while at this point. You give him that smile that he loved so much and nod.
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sleepynoons · 2 months
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nanami x afab!f!reader, nsfw, 18+, not beta read cw: unprotected sex (and he cums inside you), fingering, nipple play if you squint, squirting
notes: a half-baked attempt at a nanami char study. also, not canon, this is post-jujutsu kaisen storyline, and nanami is alive and well – physically, at least. also x2, gege akutami, idgaf about you and your updated cute cyclops cat avatar, when i get you, it's fucking over for you.
NANAMI HAS a habit of falling into silence after arguments with you.
your first fight, you interpreted his silence as stonewalling, a way to prevent the conversation from continuing so that he wouldn’t have to take any more accountability or responsibility. so, you interrogated – demanded that he say something, anything.
but, in a fragile, almost meek voice, he hoarsely responded, “i’m sorry, my love. i just… i just need time to think.”
almost instinctively, you lurched forward to embrace him. you couldn’t bear to see him in such a state any longer – eyes downcast and watery, fists balled tightly, perspiration collecting on his temples.
“take all the time you need, kento,” you reassured.
the following morning, the two of you discussed and made amends over breakfast (which he got up early to make). and nanami revealed parts of himself you had never known before.
you see, nanami takes his roles as your partner for life and, more generally, as an adult very seriously. he’s given several subject matters and issues deep thought – the jujutsu world, global affairs, mentorship, parenting, and more –, yet he still finds himself in situations he hasn’t encountered before and is stumped. he doesn’t know how to proceed, how to navigate, unable to adapt because a critical, sneering voice in his head exacerbates his immobility. 
it screams: “why don’t you know what to do!”
he’s suffering from performance anxiety, disabled from acting like the adult he should be, reminded of the fact that he was forced to grow up when he was still only a teenager, still too underprepared and incapable to handle anything independently. he can’t even prevent his own relationship from falling apart, and that’s something within his control.
and you know these thoughts still poison your husband’s mind today. even though he’s no longer a sorcerer, and the both of you have moved to kauntan, malaysia, they will probably plague him for the rest of his life, fueled by his regrets and grief.
it’s obviously frustrating for you. but you’re also an adult, and you’re no stranger to regrets or grief yourself. unlike nanami, however, you’re more optimistic, even arguably whimsical and idealistic. just as there is so much pain and suffering in the world, there is also love and comfort. and you’d like to be a source of that support for nanami, standing right beside him as you both move forward, learning to seek and appreciate joy while living with sadness and mourning.
so after every heated conversation (because the two of you have resolved to never fight again), you stay true to your words and remind your husband just how far-reaching and unconditional your love is.
you’re seated on his lap and cupping his face in your palms.
“kento, look at me,” you whisper as you search for his eyes. nanami always gets so shy when you do this. you coax again, “kento, just let me say what i have to say, alright?”
“you don’t have to do this every time,” he mutters, though you know he doesn’t mean it.
“i’ll keep this up until you stop avoiding me.”
with that, he acquiesces. he peers at you, a little nervous and hesitant.
“kento, remember,” you begin, “when we argue, it doesn’t mean i want to break up with you.” kiss. “it doesn’t mean i hate you.” kiss. “it doesn’t mean you’re a horrible person.” you pepper a few more pecks, scattering them across his cheekbones, chin, and the spot right between his eyebrows. “it’s natural” – and you stress this – “for us to disagree and be annoyed at each other because we are not the same person. we both know what to do better on, and that’s that, yeah?”
nanami grunts in agreement, and you happily reward him with a longer smooch on his lips before you finish, “you’re the love of my life, kento, and nothing will change that. i hope you come to believe that.”
he blushes at your confession and mumbles a soft “i love you” in response.
content with your work, you start to sit up, preparing to slide off of nanami’s lap. however, nanami’s hands fly up to square your hips, preventing you from leaving.
“kento?” you ask. he doesn’t say anything, simply takes one of your hands and presses it against his growing bulge. you let out a soft sound of surprise.
“this is incredibly indecent of me,” he mumbles. “i just… need to show you how grateful i am for you.”
it’s your turn to melt at his words. heat floods your face, and you nod enthusiastically, earning a light giggle from your husband.
nanami leans forward to kiss you, gentle presses of his lips to yours. his left hand has bunched your nightgown to give his right access to the tops of your thighs and your core. his right hand caresses, almost tickles, the sensitive skin of your legs, palming and squeezing them as he feels you. he continues to travel upward, reaching to play with the fringes of your underwear. your whimper is swallowed by him as well, as he sneaks his tongue into your mouth, transitioning the kiss into a full-blown makeout.
he traces your folds and lines through your panties, his fingertips poking at the wet spot that is starting to dampen the lace and cotton. just his sheer touch is enough to make you keen, transform into a whimpering mess that only wants more, more, all of him. as a result, you pull away, translucent spit connecting and stretching out before it’s broken apart as you take off your nightgown and throw it behind you. nanami also strips himself of his shirt, before the two of you crash back together and resume kissing and mouthing and moaning.
nanami’s hands continue to work magic on your body – circling around and then tugging and twisting at your puffy nipples, shifting your panties to the side and inserting a thick finger into your squelching hole. throwing caution and embarrassment to the wind, he even becomes a little forceful and only gives you a brief moment to adjust before he shoves two more fingers in, forcing your pussy to take in three at once.
you can only throw your head back, whining his name, pressure and pleasure making you drool.
“sorry, dearest, i’m usually more careful than this,” he grunts through gritted teeth. his cock is still stuck in the confines of his pajama pants, and he knows he should give you more time. but, after a few more seconds, he has to pull his cock out, slip his fingers out of you, and align his tip with your entrance.
“i need it,” you sob, your hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders.
“are you sure?” you firmly nod your head, leaving him no choice but to stuff you full.
the stretch is delicious. honeyed. syrupy. your walls welcome him, and you feel your heart fill with so much warmth. the two of you are so clearly in love, heart eyes locked onto each other’s, even as nanami ruts into you and your nipples sing as they graze against his chest. you’re panting each other’s names, finding some way – any way – to get even closer, prove that physicality could never impede the joining of your souls. your thighs trap the sides of nanami’s legs, and your husband has lowered his hands to cup your ass to better bounce you up and down on his cock. every rock stretches you out even more, allowing him to sink even deeper into you.
you yelp, “kento! i – hah – love! you!” even though you’re short of breath, you try your best to say it over and over again, desperately hoping that nanami can get a glimpse of just how much you cherish him.
he gasps, “you just – never stop giving.” nanami knows he will never be able to string words together the way you do, intonate them with such profound adoration and admiration like you do. so the least he can do is show you.
he embraces you fully, arms moving up to wrap around your chest and torso, and hugs you closely as he thrusts up, punching air out of you so that you’re totally out of breath. he’s giving you everything he has because never has he felt so moved in his life. he just wants to give you everything, and if he can give you even a taste of ecstasy, he’ll be able to sleep soundly by your side tonight.
you’re fucked out, mouth lolling open, and because you’ve lost even the strength to hold your head up, you rest yourself in the crook of nanami’s neck.
“i’m close,” you whisper. dutifully, nanami nods, gives you a swift kiss on the cheek, and hammers even harder into you. each sheathe of his cock is a force to be reckoned, and in no time, you feel yourself squirting all over, losing yourself to the sensation of being enclosed by nanami’s body, heat, and devotion. nanami follows shortly thereafter, sucking heavily on your collarbone as he fills you up, up, up with his cum, a promise to remind you for day’s to come that he will always give you himself over to you, over and over again, everyday if you so pleased.
as the two of you rest, he looks down at you and waits for you to come back to him. and when you do, he musters his courage because, while words may always fail him, he will always try his best for you. “i love you more than you know,” he promises, voice laced with blissful exhaustion, and kisses you once again.
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