mav

ur fav finance girlie 🫶 19 • chocolate enthusiast • author at heart

[aquasprings]

˚｡⋆ welcome to aquasprings ˚｡⋆

mav ♡ (nanami's wife & yuta's gf)

• econ major • taurus sun • pisces moon • boba lover

✦ lair archives ↳ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ↳ smaus . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

✦ before you enter

• be kind & patient

• no plagiarism, please and thanks!! this also means no feeding my works into ai!

• reqs may take time ♡ i’m a working gal

come visit me on ao3! aqua_springs

mav recommends ~

the choso verse ✿ the boxer!toji series ✿

requests open!! 💌

[aquasprings]

just friends...? ft. bestfriend!yuji !!

bestfriend!yuji who starts sitting a little too close during your weekly movie nights. like, shoulders touching close, knees brushing every time one of you shifts. he swears it’s just because the couch is small.

bestfriend!yuji who notices you smell different tonight. good. really good. he keeps getting distracted, leaning a little closer without realizing, until you glance at him and he jerks back like he got caught doing something illegal.

bestfriend!yuji who laughs it off, scratching the back of his neck. “did you — uh — change your shampoo or something?” and when you tell him it’s your new perfume he just nods way too fast. “y—yeah. it’s nice.”

bestfriend!yuji who cannot focus on the movie anymore. like, at all. he’s hyperaware of everything. your leg pressed against his, your hand resting near his. the way you laugh softly at something on the screen. the way you glance at his lips when he talks.

yeah. bestfriend!yuji definitely notices that, and absolutely doesn’t know what to do about it.

bestfriend!yuji who keeps telling himself to just focus on the movie. eyes locked on the screen, nodding at the right moments, except he has no idea what’s going on anymore. something about a car chase? maybe?

bestfriend!yuji who keeps glancing at you anyway. quick, stolen looks. your profile lit by the tv glow, the way your lips part slightly when you’re focused, the way your lashes flutter when you blink.

yeah, he’s gone.

bestfriend!yuji who notices when your fingers shift a little closer to his on the couch cushion. he freezes. debates for a solid thirty seconds whether he should move his hand closer or not. because what if it’s weird? what if you didn’t mean to? what if you did?

bestfriend!yuji who feels you shift, your shoulder pressing more firmly into his, your knee hooking just slightly against his leg. now he’s really not watching the movie anymore.

bestfriend!yuji who finally risks a glance at you, and catches you already looking at him. oh. oh, shit.

bestfriend!yuji who goes completely red in two seconds flat, blinking at you like he forgot how to function.

bestfriend!yuji who forgets how to breathe when, minutes later, you’re straddling his lap, hands cupping his jaw, lips slotting against his in a way that’s definitely not a “just friends” kiss.

bestfriend!yuji who’s kissing you back before either of you really process how it started.

bestfriend!yuji who keeps pulling back just enough to mumble, “just—just as friends, okay?” like saying it will make it true. he immediately leans back in anyway, because your hands are gripping at his hoodie now, tugging him closer like you need him there.

bestfriend!yuji who’s blushing so hard it reaches his ears, hands tightening at your waist without him realizing. he makes a soft, needy sound into your lips, forgetting how to act normal when your hands slide up to the back of his neck, fingers lacing in his hair. he shivers — actually shivers — and that’s when he knows he’s in deep.

bestfriend!yuji who nods when you repeat “just friends” against his lips like a mantra. he keeps mumbling “just friends” like it’s a spell that’ll fix this.

(it doesn’t.)

[aquasprings]

꧁─── you hate 𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓾 𝓰𝓸𝓳𝓸, your…husband to be.

this marriage is going to be a disaster.

it's a gnawing sense that you're certain of. it ripples over your bones when you even just think about it. the ink on the agreement hasn’t even dried and already it feels like a threat. like someone tied a knot around your throat instead of your wrist.

you hate your husband to be. hate him. that he’s untouchable. unbearable. he’s the type to press a blade to your throat and smile all cockily, like a reminder he could push it further if he wanted to.

you hate him.

it’s a hatred cultivated over years of hushed discussions with your clan elders, sideways glances every time you were in the same room as the man. clipped words and that infuriating, knowing look he always seems to wear when he looks at you.

and he hates you right back.

you hear steps - undoubtedly his steps - trail closer and closer to the room you’re in. your shoulders tense at the thought of having to look at him. the door swings open. “you’re late,” you say without looking up.

“wow,” gojo says lightly, dragging the word out. “that’s how you greet your future husband? no flowers? no tears of joy?”

you finally look at him. he’s smiling. of course he’s smiling. you hate that it suits him. “if i had flowers,” you reply drily, “i’d throw them at your face.”

“romantic,” he hums. “i always knew you were the sentimental type.”

your fingers tighten around the paper in your hand. the clan seal stares back at you like an accusation, like a joke someone forgot to laugh at. “you have to sign this,” you say, voice flat, pointing to the paper you’ve left crumpled on the table. “my clan head wants it in the next hour.”

“well, i’m my own clan head, so i’ll sign it when i feel like it,” he replies, and he drops his gangly figure on a couch, tilting his head back.

you roll your eyes. he really is insufferable.

“try not to look so thrilled,” gojo drawls from across the room, long legs stretched out like he owns not just the space, but the air you’re forced to breathe with him. “people might start thinking you actually want this.”

you scoff before you can stop yourself, arms folding tight across your chest. “please. the day i want anything involving you is the day i check myself into a monastery.”

he hums, tilting his head, blindfold hiding his eyes but not the sharp curl of his smile. “tempting. you’d finally get some peace and quiet.”

“i’d have it right now if you stopped talking.”

“and miss out on all this?” he gestures lazily between the two of you, like this is some kind of joke, like this isn’t a life sentence being signed in ink that feels too permanent. “our beautiful, politically motivated union? i’m touched.”

“you should be,” you snap. “i’m sacrificing more than you are.”

that earns a soft laugh, low and unimpressed. “that’s funny. i was about to say the same thing.”

the room feels smaller than it is. suffocating. packed with expectations that don’t belong to you, voices of elders who decided this was the solution, the alliance, the neat little bow tied around decades of tension. as if forcing two people who can barely stand to look at each other into marriage will magically turn resentment into harmony.

it doesn’t. it won’t. you know that. he knows that too.

“don’t flatter yourself,” gojo says. “this isn’t a sacrifice. it’s damage control.”

your gaze snaps to him. “for who?”

“for you,” he says easily.

you take a step forward before you can stop yourself. “watch it.”

“or what?” he tilts his head, smile widening just enough to be insulting. “you’ll glare at me harder?”

your jaw tightens. “you think this benefits me?”

“i think,” he says, sitting up now, elbows braced on his knees, “your clan’s been bleeding influence for years, and this is their last attempt to cling to relevance. congratulations, you’re the bargaining chip.”

the room goes still and you laugh sharply. “and you’re what? the prize?”

“no,” he says, just as sharp. “the leash.”

that almost knocks the breath out of you. for a second neither of you moves. the air feels brittle, like it might crack if either of you breathes too hard. “you’re not that important,” you say quieter now, which somehow makes it worse. “no matter how much you like to pretend you are.”

gojo’s smile slips. “right,” he murmurs. “keep telling yourself that.”

you hate that tone. you hate that it sounds like he knows something you don’t. you hate that he always sounds like that. “sign the damn paper,” you snap, shoving it closer to him. “or are you too busy admiring your own ego?”

he looks at it. doesn’t touch it. “you know what i hate about you?” he says suddenly.

you blink. “only one thing?”

“you stand there like you’re above it,” he continues, ignoring you completely. “like you weren’t raised in the same system. like you didn’t benefit from it just as much as i did.”

your stomach twists. “i never—”

“don’t,” he cuts in, voice dropping, colder now. stripped of that lazy amusement. “don’t try to make yourself the victim here. you’re not being dragged into this. you walked in with your head high and your pen ready.”

that stings and you step closer again, close enough until you poke his chest, finger jabbing him.

“i walked in because i don’t have the luxury of refusing,” you say. “something you wouldn’t understand.”

“no,” he says. “i understand perfectly.”

he leans back again, all sharp edges tucked away behind that infuriating ease. “but sure,” he adds, waving a hand dismissively. “tell yourself you’re the only one suffering. makes it easier, right?”

you stare at him, really stare this time. you see past the arrogance, the mockery.

resentment. aimed straight at you.

“sign it,” you repeat, voice steadier.

gojo glances over it like it’s something mildly inconvenient rather than binding, then his hand comes up, fingers brushing yours as he takes the paper, and it’s brief but jarring, like touching something you shouldn’t.

he doesn’t look at you, and doesn’t say anything. just glances down, grabs the pen off the table, and signs.

quick, decisive and careless.

satoru gojo.

he drops the paper back against your chest. “there,” he says. “happy?”

you stare down at it, at the ink that’s slowly starting to dry. “ecstatic,” you mutter.

“good,” he replies, already turning away. “wouldn’t want my wife-to-be to start off disappointed.”

you look up sharply at that, something hot and immediate flaring in your chest. “don’t call me that.”

he pauses at the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder, smile curling like a threat. “what?” he says lightly. “wife?”

the word sounds wrong in his mouth. mocking. “get used to it.” and then he’s gone, leaving the door half open and the room feeling too quiet without him.

you look back down at the paper. at his name, at yours.

this marriage is going to be a disaster, and it feels like a promise.

a/n ~ the fic that’s deadahh been in my drafts for 2 months 🫩

[aquasprings]

୨୧ choso’s just about as pathetic as a man can get. ୨୧ 18+!

this realization comes to you after gojo begs you to give his friend a chance.

“please,” gojo says, and you scowl at him. “he’s nice. and i’m pretty sure he has a massive thing for you.”

“me?” you ask, incredulous. “i’ve never talked to him in my life.”

gojo sighs, flopping back onto your couch. “if i ever, like, loosely mention you in conversation, i swear he blushes.”

that’s how you end up in the living room of the frat friday night. loud, warm, the air slightly hazy.

choso right beside you on the couch, barely looking at you at first, all hunched shoulders and quiet glances, dark hair brushing his neck, dermal piercing catching the light every time he nervously shifts.

yeah, you think, he’s cute.

you end up sharing a joint, and that’s when you notice how he freezes every time your fingers brush his, how his breath hitches. it’s not subtle. not even a little. and when you lean a bit closer, knee nudging his, he almost drops it. across the room, gojo and the others are already smirking like they know exactly how this is going to go.

they don’t even try to hide it when they leave. gojo claps choso on the shoulder, says something low that makes his ears turn red, and suddenly it’s just the two of you on that worn-out couch, the music muffled now, the air heavier.

choso apologizes. for his friends, for himself.

you remember thinking how easy it is to get a reaction out of him. how all it takes is a hand on his chest, a soft question, and he’s unraveling right in front of you.

he nods at everything, says yes too quickly like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he hesitates. when he slips and said “please,” you know you have him.

“d’you like me, cho?” you murmur with glassy eyes, hand sliding up his collar and pressing against his nape, fingers deftly threading through inky hair.

“g—yes. yes, so much,” he exhales, voice shaking slightly as you pull him closer to you.

“wanna fuck?” you whisper, straddling yourself on his lap and relishing in the small, broken sound he makes when your glossed lips suckle at the junction of his neck.

“here? now?” his eyes bugger wide, hands squeezing your waist as your lips trail up, and up, and up, until you’re sliding your tongue in his mouth, bracketing your lips against his, swallowing his needy little moans.

he pants into your mouth as your hands pull at his hoodie and he shrugs it off wordlessly, cheeks flushed as your eyes trail down the milky expanse of his chest.

“pretty,” you murmur, and he whines, hands frozen at his sides when you slip your shorts off and toss them to the side.

“as much as i wanna feel your mouth on me,” you breathe, pupils blown, “i need to feel you in me. now. yeah?”

“y—yeah,” he shudders, hands fisting the couch beside him nervously as you tug his jeans and boxers down mid-thigh, his cock beading precum as it aches towards his stomach.

“i—ohmygod,” he slurs, whimper being pulled from his throat as you sink down on him in one shot. “please—”

“haven’t even done anything,” you say, hands locking onto his shoulders as you lift your hips slowly before dropping them back down, the motion making choso buck up desperately and moan into your neck.

“m not gonna last,” he whines pathetically, and you sneer, telling him to be good for you or you’ll stop.

you think it’s 30 seconds before he’s cumming, head falling back against the couch with a strangled sound.

he whimpers when you ask him which direction his bedroom’s in.

[aquasprings]

hey may I ask what your a03 is?

It’s aqua_springs !!! 😘😘😘😝😝

[aquasprings]

are you going to like pass your fics into the other account? because I will perish if they get deleted

i don’t think they’ll get deleted my account is js marked as mature which is okay 🫩🫩

once i get time im gonna keep uploading everything to ao3!

[aquasprings]

I love your writing omg .And also how are you so consistent m?I write sm but then stop for months.

ahh thank you!!

lol back during uni i had a lot more free time (which is weird lol) so id write a lot but w my summer job rn i work 9-5 and i barely have time anymore…

i just write to write! like i have lots of requests yes but i write on my timing. i try not to feel pressure too much.

just have fun 😛

[aquasprings]

just end me why don’t you

😑😑😑

[aquasprings]

stoner choso and stoner reader?? them getting high tg <3

[aquasprings]

please continue the yuta x oblivious reader im begging you 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

OKAY BAHAHHA don’t hate me i forgot abt this smau series

but yes i’ll continue it !

[aquasprings]

i saw this on tiktok and you are the FIRST person that fame to mine and i HADDDD to share🤭🤭🤭

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNRvmveDp/

i started drooling on my screen.

[aquasprings]

hockey!toji who skates off the ice with blood on his lip, grin crooked, and he already knows exactly where you’re standing before his skates even hit the tunnel floor.

hockey!toji who hears the arena cheer his name above him and barely reacts because the real victory is you rolling your eyes at him from the stands like you didn’t just scream when he scored the winning goal.

hockey!toji who calls out “baby!” across the chaos, and you immediately snap back “absolutely not,” your glare sharp. he grins harder, because he likes it when you look at him like that.

hockey!toji who barrels through the crowd half in gear, half in victory delirium, and wraps an arm around your waist.

hockey!toji who gets shoved in the chest immediately because you refuse to make anything easy for him, even when he’s bleeding and laughing like it’s funny, like it’s nothing.

hockey!toji who ignores every insult you throw at him. “you’re disgusting,” “you smell like a wet dog,” “you’re bleeding,” and just keeps replying “we won though” like it’s the only argument that matters in the universe. well, the argument and you, of course.

hockey!toji who hears the student section erupt into “TOJI’S GIRLFRIEND!” and “THAT'S HIS WIIIIIIFE!” and looks way too pleased about it like he didn’t already plan to show off the second he saw you.

hockey!toji who tightens his hold when you try to step away, lifting you off the ground without effort.

hockey!toji who hears the entire student section start chanting “KISS HER!” and doesn’t even pretend to hesitate.

hockey!toji who kisses you like the game never ended, like adrenaline is still burning in his veins, like he’s trying to prove something to everyone watching and also to himself that you’re real and here and his.

hockey!toji who pulls back just slightly, forehead almost touching yours, and you're still trying to look annoyed but your hands are in his jersey.

hockey!toji who laughs when you shove his face away, smug as hell, because your expression gives you away every single time even when you’re trying to look furious.

hockey!toji who hears the arena erupt again and just smirks like yeah, they can talk. he already knows how the story ends.

art by 0mmichu on tiktok!!

[aquasprings]

ૢ་༘࿐ 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒾𝑔𝒽?

࿐ stoner choso! the first thing you notice about him is that he looks wildly out of place. everyone else is loud. the music is loud. the people are loud. somebody is standing on a kitchen counter trying to shotgun a beer and failing spectacularly. you’ve never been a fan of frat parties, and the one was especially brutal.

but he’s just sitting on the back porch - alone - with a hoodie and sweats, hair tied back, smoking a joint.

you end up outside when your social battery dies (you last through about three conversations with frat guys before needing a break). the night air feels cool against your skin when you push open the sliding door. he glances up.

“you escaping too?” he asks. his voice is low and rough, features sleepy and dark and you’re filled with the sudden urge to push the stray strands of hair off his forehead.

“that obvious?”

“a little.”

he shifts over on the porch swing, making room. you sit in silence, staring out at the backyard, the party noise reduced to muffled bass thumping from inside the house now. he holds up the joint after a moment. “want it?”

you hesitate. “depends. is it gonna kill me?”

he smiles, small and crooked. “probably not.”

“very reassuring.”

“i try.”

you pluck the joint from his hands and his fingers brush yours. you ignore the weird little spark that shoots up your arm. you take a drag, the smoke burning your throat immediately. you cough so hard you nearly fold in half. he watches you, vaguely amused, and chuckles when you thrust the joint back to him, grimacing. “you could’ve warned me.”

“where’s the fun in that?”you stare at him. he stares back, and then suddenly both of you are laughing.

you end up staying on that porch for almost two hours. his name is choso. he studies something science-related that you don’t fully understand because he explains it while half faded and distracted. he has a younger brother. he hates tequila. he likes old records and strawberry mochi and rainy weather.

he knows your name and that you definitely don’t like smoking. he likes the curve of you smile and the way you tuck your knees up onto the swing. he likes the sound of your laugh and knows that your favourite dessert is an ice cream sundae.

the party starts to die down well into the morning - you’d been so distracted by your conversation with this perfect stranger that you’d lost track of time. “i should probably go,” you say.

“yeah.” choso looks at you with his pretty, tired eyes and neither of you move as you watch each other in silence.

a beat passes. “can i get your number?” he blurts.

you blink and choso immediately looks like he regrets saying anything. “that sounded stupid.”

“it kinda did,” you lilt. “good thing i’m giving it to you anyway.”

his ears turn pink and you grin - it feels impossible considering the man looks like he could intimidate a bear. you type your number into his phone and when you hand it back to him he shoves one hand in his pocket. “i’ll text you.”

“you better.” he smiles again, the same one from earlier, and your stomach swims because it feels like it’s just for you.

and later, when your phone lights up before you’ve even made it home, the message reads:

choso :) : made it ten minutes before texting

you stare at the screen smiling like an idiot.

you: desperation, actually 😉😉

three dots appear immediately.

choso :) : yeah, probably. wanna hang out tomorrow?

[aquasprings]

https://www.tumblr.com/aquasprings/817627126355443712/nanamis-high-maintenance-girlfriend-and-her?source=share

this actually means a lot to me because i am neurodivergent and i have spd (sensory processing disorder, which also affects how i process emotions so things seem really big to me when they're little) so i often get called ridiculous, dramatic, theatrical, attention-seeking, you name it. it's nice when people actually stop an think, "wait. this is a big deal to her. she's not fake crying. she's genuinely upset and spiralling. i should help." because that's what i need in those moments, so thank you!

🥰

this warms my heart. i’m so glad my fic had a positive impact!! my brother has spd too!

all love anon

[aquasprings]

can we pls get more smau’s esp higuruma 👀👀👀

[aquasprings]

Hello!! Do you write for yuta? I barely see anyone writing smaus or fics of him imsosad😢😢 ANYTHING IS FINE AS LONG AS ITS YUTA!!!

well of COURSE! that’s my angel baby

[aquasprings]

When will we get the frat toji...

when my boss isn’t on my ahh every day 😞😞 SOON THO I HOPEEE!!