𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞

[loreshonour]

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄.

𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗜𝗦𝗡'𝗧 𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗬, 𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗬 𝗧𝗢 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗗

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

─── ‎؛༊ this agent answers to 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄 ‎⌇ eighteen ˚. !! spencer reid's 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ⧽ she/her ⧽ nanami's 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 ⧽ flemish ⧽ the sound of music enthusiast ⧽ choso's 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ⧽ multi-fandom ⧽ aaron hotchner's 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗢𝗖𝗢𝗟 ⋮ 𝗖𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗔𝗥𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗩𝗘 ⋮ 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗠 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗙𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗔𝗟 𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗦

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 — © loreshonour

[loreshonour]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ when the two of you decide to bake together, but the kitchen is (you are) being uncooperative ⧽ 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵: 0.7k

་༘࿐ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ established relationship ⧽ married life ⧽ baking together ⧽ married & in love ⧽ fluff ⧽ shakespeare reference ⧽ domestic fluff ⧽ pet names (honey, darling, baby) ⧽ kissing ⧽ reader & nanami's first kiss ever was under a weeping willow

𓂃 ࣪ ࣪˖ ִ؛༊ ִ𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ this was supposed to be a nerd!jo baking fic, but i decided to make it a nanami one last minute ^_^ also, the weeping willow storyline is so incredibly random, but it seems ridiculously romantic to me and therefore i will be pushing the 'first kiss under a weeping willow' narrative in most of my nanami fics from now on LMAOO

The bay windows are cracked open, and the faint smell of freshly mown grass is already seeping inside. The birds are chirping, and the sea is lapping at the shoreline. A constant back and forth, one you've grown accustomed to over the years, one you wouldn't want to get rid of.

There’s sunlight filtering through the curtain of green lace belonging to the ancient weeping willow standing proudly in the backyard. The long, spindly branches ripple whenever the wind comes in too strongly, and it is yet another thing you've grown to love. 

Quite a few summers ago, before you'd even gone ahead and purchased the house—since the weeping willow is just on the outskirts of your backyard—Nanami had been incredibly persistent in showing it to you. While you’d been staring up at the narrow leaves, he’d muttered about it being a secluded haven of some sort. Before you were allowed to move, or even realise what was happening, his lips were pressed against yours—as if his secluded haven had turned into a safe haven with you there—and that was your first kiss.

Safe to say, the mere thought of getting rid of the weeping willow hasn't crossed his mind since. He’s done his fair share of research, and despite the tree's association with mourning, he claims it’s his memento nonetheless. 

Something about folklore—the branches whispering, keeping secrets safe—or just the endurance of love. You’re not entirely sure, all you know is that the tree isn't ever going away. 

And since it’s mid-July now, the tree is quieter than ever, only ever so often does it let out a soft, muffled whisper. You catch it, anyway. It’s difficult not to. 

A white kitchen scale is placed on the dark wooden counter, and a bowl filled with butter and sugar is positioned neatly on top of it; the flour— well, the flour missed most of the bowl, and the dark counter has never been lighter than it is as of right now. 

Nanami tips his head backwards, surely counting up to twenty to remain the patient man he is, before leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek, “Could you, please, stop spilling all our ingredients?”

“I’m not doing anything,” you claim in an assured tone, pinning your hip against the wooden kitchen counter, arms crossing over your chest, pushing your breasts up. To be completely fair, you did walk into that one, considering you forgot to add the wrong. 

“That might be the problem,” Nanami retorts lightly, amusement creeping into his voice as he glances around for a fresh towel.

You grab the nearest one you can find and shove it into his hands, not missing the way his lips twitch, despite how much he tries to hide it. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?” 

Your husband hums, cleaning his hands, placing the towel back on the counter, “Not at all, honey.”

“Uh-huh,” you squint your eyes, watching the way he effortlessly moves around the kitchen, doing most of the work even though you’re the one who wanted to bake in the first place. “Because should there be an issue, you could always pen down your dilemmas.”

He blinks once, tilting his head to the side so he can properly take a look at you, “I’m not entirely sure how I feel about you quoting Shakespeare, darling, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

You continue to whisk the bowl of batter, a puff of white powder settling right on the tip of your nose. “The kitchen is being incredibly uncooperative today, don't you think?”

“Definitely the kitchen,” Nanami agrees, eyes filled with tenderness. With a flick of his thumb, he's brushing the flour from your nose, and some more from your forehead—touch lingering, almost reverently—the warmth of his fingers pooling through your skin. “You’re a mess.”

“What kind of mess?” You scrunch up your nose, gazing up at him, the bowl of batter long forgotten, hip still pressed against the counter, hands now resting on his chest.

He leans in, lips catching yours in a kiss that’s just enough to make your head spin. The faint taste of sugar, mostly vanilla, melts on both of your tongues, and then his hands are on your waist, pulling you in, while your arms loop around his neck. 

He doesn't pull back more than a centimetre once you disconnect, forehead resting against yours, and finally, he cracks, even if it’s just a little. A gentle, amused laugh flying past his lips. 

“A beautiful one.”

“Smart man. Correct on the first try, baby.”

© loreshonour — 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[loreshonour]

⋆˚࿔ 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐓!𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ and his way of communicating ⧽ 𝘃𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲: 3vangel1ne_ ⧽ 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵: 0.5k

་༘࿐ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ established relationship ⧽ married life ⧽ lovesick!gojo ⧽ soft!gojo ⧽ married & in love ⧽ domestic fluff

𓂃 ࣪ ࣪˖ ִ؛༊ ִ𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ another pilot!gojo headcanon post because i've been thinking about him a little bit too much lately

Pilot!Gojo who, time and time again, sends you a message before taking off and immediately after landing. In the years he's been married to you, it’s always come as easily as breathing. Without second-guessing himself, not even realising where exactly he is, or not having a clue in the world where his hotel is located, his thumbs seem to have a mind of their own, typing away. 

07:34 — OSAKA, JAPAN

[Satoru]: just landed, baby. as to be expected ;-)

[You]: i hope the flight was smooth!! i’m very happy you’re on the ground safely <3

23:02 — MANILA, PHILIPPINES

[Satoru]: landed safely! heading to the hotel now ❤︎

[You]: yay! go get a good night’s sleep!!

Pilot!Gojo who manages to plan nightly video calls with you before leaving. Sure, he's impossibly spontaneous and more often than not acts on impulse, which you aren't necessarily a fan of—which he quickly seemed to figure out in your years of being married—so he tries his best. 

His spontaneity forms into strategic planning. It’s not something he would've done years ago, but the mere thought of going out of his way to give you some peace of mind does him good.

He figures out which country he's going to, how long he's going to be staying there, from which date to which date, compares the time zone to the one at home, and there it is, written meticulously—considering his usually messy handwriting, it must be perfection on its own—in your shared calendar. 

20:30 — 21:30

VIDEO DATE. <3

Pilot!Gojo who writes a bunch of messages on quite colourful pieces of paper and hides them all around the house for you to find while he's away. 

One taped to the bathroom mirror, a simple, ‘wow. you look beautiful.'

Another in the hallway, right above the dark wooden wall-mounted key holder he hung up before he left, ‘I love you, baby!’

Sometimes, however, things end up differently. It’s easy to glance over them, that’s why the white paper switched to brighter, neon colours. It’s not the first time you haven't found all of them, and you're quite certain it won't be the last. You look forward to them all the same.

Pilot!Gojo who always brings you back a gift from each country he visits. If it isn't something edible (usually he brings back chocolate, if he hasn't eaten it himself by the time he's home), it’s a magnet to hang on the refrigerator. He’s aware that you're quite the collector, and despite not visiting the countries yourself, he simply loves nothing more than to help finish your collection.

Pilot!Gojo who takes his time at home very seriously. He doesn't know how long until he has to leave again, so the moment he walks through the front door—not even allowed to take off his shoes, since you're already lunging at him—he spoils you to the max. 

One might call it overcompensating, he calls it being a dutiful husband who’s finally able to have some alone time with his wife.

© loreshonour — 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[loreshonour]

𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃!𝐉𝐎 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ when you leave tiny little indents on his new trousers (& sticky lip gloss on his cheek) ⧽ 𝘃𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲: 3vangel1ne_ ⧽ 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵: 0.6k

་༘࿐ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ fluff ⧽ estabilished relationship ⧽ pet names (baby) ⧽ he's sooo besotted with reader ⧽ physics major nerd!jo ⧽ soft!gojo ⧽ silly & sweet ⧽ brat!reader ⧽ domestic fluff ⧽ 'happy wife, happy life!'

𓂃 ࣪ ࣪˖ ִ؛༊ ִ𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ i've been wanting to write this for an exceptionally long time, and i'm so happy i finally got around to doing so because this made my heart melt ughhh ( ˶˘ ³˘) also,,, this might be super ooc because i had spencer reid in mind while writing this omfg </3

Getting Satoru’s attention wasn't difficult by any means, usually, all you had to do was smile up at him while your lashes fluttered, and he was done for. When he's nose-deep into a book, it’s an entirely different story. 

Something about quantum entanglement, as far as you can recall, his lips moving in a silent motion as if he's repeating the words he's reading for himself. A single wave instead of individual states, and his eyebrows furrow, entangled particles and—

“Baby,” he lets out a tired sigh, glancing up at you from his book, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. 

Your freshly done nails, a soft shade of blue with his initial written in cursive on your ring finger, pause from where they're digging into the material of his pants. You hum, “Yes?”

He blinks once, twice, three times before he purses his lips, “You’re leaving tiny little indents in my trousers.”

You look down at his pants, nails losing their grip almost immediately, but the palm of your hand remains on his thigh, the muscle spasming beneath your flesh, “So?”

Satoru licks his lips, pushing his glasses back up his nose with his middle finger, “I like these trousers,” he retorts in a dry voice. “I— baby, you always leave permanent marks on all my pants while I'm busy doing something. I’m blissfully aware that human touch is a fundamental biological need, and you must be releasing oxytocin but—”

“Do you not like my nails?” 

“That’s— that’s not what I said.”

“It was implied. Do you not want me to touch you?”

“Yes, I do. I simply like these pants. They're new.”

“Uh-huh,” you unconvincingly nod, theatrical manners through the roof. The corner of your mouth twitches once, and before you're able to stop it, a full-blown smile breaks out on your face. You lean forward, both hands on his thighs, and leave a sweet kiss on his cheek. 

Satoru’s eyes crinkle, even when he brings up a hand to wipe off the sticky gloss you left behind, “Mhm, seriously. This stuff stains—”

“Oh, so first you're complaining because I'm supposedly mauling your legs each time I'm bored,” you flick his forehead, watching a red hue spread over his cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears. “And now you're grumbling about my lip gloss.”

“I don't grumble.”

“That’s right,” you retort instantly. “You whine.”

He huffs and presses a kiss to your cheek, the book long forgotten in his lap. 

“You know what this means, Satoru?”

He steals a kiss from your lips.

“What?”

And another.

“That you're not paying enough attention to me.”

He pauses, eyes flickering over every tiny expression passing by on your face. He doesn't miss a single one, and for the first time in his life, he doesn't fall for the bait— he decides to just go with it.

“Huh. Yes, this is all my fault, of course. I’m sorry, baby.”

If Satoru were to be a lesser man, he would've lost it by now, but he isn't a lesser man, and unfortunately for him, his IQ manages to drop to at least sixty when you're near. 

So, if you claim it’s his fault that you're leaving tiny little indents on his—newly purchased and highly favoured—trousers, then that might as well be a fact, because the sheer amusement on your face is enough to trigger the release of oxytocin for him. 

By the end of the night, his trousers are rumpled, and his face is covered in glossy kiss marks. Despite it all, he's right where he wants to be.

© loreshonour — 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[loreshonour]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ when the two of you decide to bake together, but the kitchen is (you are) being uncooperative ⧽ 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵: 0.7k

་༘࿐ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ established relationship ⧽ married life ⧽ baking together ⧽ married & in love ⧽ fluff ⧽ shakespeare reference ⧽ domestic fluff ⧽ pet names (honey, darling, baby) ⧽ kissing ⧽ reader & nanami's first kiss ever was under a weeping willow

𓂃 ࣪ ࣪˖ ִ؛༊ ִ𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ this was supposed to be a nerd!jo baking fic, but i decided to make it a nanami one last minute ^_^ also, the weeping willow storyline is so incredibly random, but it seems ridiculously romantic to me and therefore i will be pushing the 'first kiss under a weeping willow' narrative in most of my nanami fics from now on LMAOO

The bay windows are cracked open, and the faint smell of freshly mown grass is already seeping inside. The birds are chirping, and the sea is lapping at the shoreline. A constant back and forth, one you've grown accustomed to over the years, one you wouldn't want to get rid of.

There’s sunlight filtering through the curtain of green lace belonging to the ancient weeping willow standing proudly in the backyard. The long, spindly branches ripple whenever the wind comes in too strongly, and it is yet another thing you've grown to love. 

Quite a few summers ago, before you'd even gone ahead and purchased the house—since the weeping willow is just on the outskirts of your backyard—Nanami had been incredibly persistent in showing it to you. While you’d been staring up at the narrow leaves, he’d muttered about it being a secluded haven of some sort. Before you were allowed to move, or even realise what was happening, his lips were pressed against yours—as if his secluded haven had turned into a safe haven with you there—and that was your first kiss.

Safe to say, the mere thought of getting rid of the weeping willow hasn't crossed his mind since. He’s done his fair share of research, and despite the tree's association with mourning, he claims it’s his memento nonetheless. 

Something about folklore—the branches whispering, keeping secrets safe—or just the endurance of love. You’re not entirely sure, all you know is that the tree isn't ever going away. 

And since it’s mid-July now, the tree is quieter than ever, only ever so often does it let out a soft, muffled whisper. You catch it, anyway. It’s difficult not to. 

A white kitchen scale is placed on the dark wooden counter, and a bowl filled with butter and sugar is positioned neatly on top of it; the flour— well, the flour missed most of the bowl, and the dark counter has never been lighter than it is as of right now. 

Nanami tips his head backwards, surely counting up to twenty to remain the patient man he is, before leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek, “Could you, please, stop spilling all our ingredients?”

“I’m not doing anything,” you claim in an assured tone, pinning your hip against the wooden kitchen counter, arms crossing over your chest, pushing your breasts up. To be completely fair, you did walk into that one, considering you forgot to add the wrong. 

“That might be the problem,” Nanami retorts lightly, amusement creeping into his voice as he glances around for a fresh towel.

You grab the nearest one you can find and shove it into his hands, not missing the way his lips twitch, despite how much he tries to hide it. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?” 

Your husband hums, cleaning his hands, placing the towel back on the counter, “Not at all, honey.”

“Uh-huh,” you squint your eyes, watching the way he effortlessly moves around the kitchen, doing most of the work even though you’re the one who wanted to bake in the first place. “Because should there be an issue, you could always pen down your dilemmas.”

He blinks once, tilting his head to the side so he can properly take a look at you, “I’m not entirely sure how I feel about you quoting Shakespeare, darling, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

You continue to whisk the bowl of batter, a puff of white powder settling right on the tip of your nose. “The kitchen is being incredibly uncooperative today, don't you think?”

“Definitely the kitchen,” Nanami agrees, eyes filled with tenderness. With a flick of his thumb, he's brushing the flour from your nose, and some more from your forehead—touch lingering, almost reverently—the warmth of his fingers pooling through your skin. “You’re a mess.”

“What kind of mess?” You scrunch up your nose, gazing up at him, the bowl of batter long forgotten, hip still pressed against the counter, hands now resting on his chest.

He leans in, lips catching yours in a kiss that’s just enough to make your head spin. The faint taste of sugar, mostly vanilla, melts on both of your tongues, and then his hands are on your waist, pulling you in, while your arms loop around his neck. 

He doesn't pull back more than a centimetre once you disconnect, forehead resting against yours, and finally, he cracks, even if it’s just a little. A gentle, amused laugh flying past his lips. 

“A beautiful one.”

“Smart man. Correct on the first try, baby.”

© loreshonour — 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[loreshonour]

𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃!𝐉𝐎 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ when you leave tiny little indents on his new trousers (& sticky lip gloss on his cheek) ⧽ 𝘃𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲: 3vangel1ne_ ⧽ 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵: 0.6k

་༘࿐ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ fluff ⧽ estabilished relationship ⧽ pet names (baby) ⧽ he's sooo besotted with reader ⧽ physics major nerd!jo ⧽ soft!gojo ⧽ silly & sweet ⧽ brat!reader ⧽ domestic fluff ⧽ 'happy wife, happy life!'

𓂃 ࣪ ࣪˖ ִ؛༊ ִ𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ i've been wanting to write this for an exceptionally long time, and i'm so happy i finally got around to doing so because this made my heart melt ughhh ( ˶˘ ³˘) also,,, this might be super ooc because i had spencer reid in mind while writing this omfg </3

Getting Satoru’s attention wasn't difficult by any means, usually, all you had to do was smile up at him while your lashes fluttered, and he was done for. When he's nose-deep into a book, it’s an entirely different story. 

Something about quantum entanglement, as far as you can recall, his lips moving in a silent motion as if he's repeating the words he's reading for himself. A single wave instead of individual states, and his eyebrows furrow, entangled particles and—

“Baby,” he lets out a tired sigh, glancing up at you from his book, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. 

Your freshly done nails, a soft shade of blue with his initial written in cursive on your ring finger, pause from where they're digging into the material of his pants. You hum, “Yes?”

He blinks once, twice, three times before he purses his lips, “You’re leaving tiny little indents in my trousers.”

You look down at his pants, nails losing their grip almost immediately, but the palm of your hand remains on his thigh, the muscle spasming beneath your flesh, “So?”

Satoru licks his lips, pushing his glasses back up his nose with his middle finger, “I like these trousers,” he retorts in a dry voice. “I— baby, you always leave permanent marks on all my pants while I'm busy doing something. I’m blissfully aware that human touch is a fundamental biological need, and you must be releasing oxytocin but—”

“Do you not like my nails?” 

“That’s— that’s not what I said.”

“It was implied. Do you not want me to touch you?”

“Yes, I do. I simply like these pants. They're new.”

“Uh-huh,” you unconvincingly nod, theatrical manners through the roof. The corner of your mouth twitches once, and before you're able to stop it, a full-blown smile breaks out on your face. You lean forward, both hands on his thighs, and leave a sweet kiss on his cheek. 

Satoru’s eyes crinkle, even when he brings up a hand to wipe off the sticky gloss you left behind, “Mhm, seriously. This stuff stains—”

“Oh, so first you're complaining because I'm supposedly mauling your legs each time I'm bored,” you flick his forehead, watching a red hue spread over his cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears. “And now you're grumbling about my lip gloss.”

“I don't grumble.”

“That’s right,” you retort instantly. “You whine.”

He huffs and presses a kiss to your cheek, the book long forgotten in his lap. 

“You know what this means, Satoru?”

He steals a kiss from your lips.

“What?”

And another.

“That you're not paying enough attention to me.”

He pauses, eyes flickering over every tiny expression passing by on your face. He doesn't miss a single one, and for the first time in his life, he doesn't fall for the bait— he decides to just go with it.

“Huh. Yes, this is all my fault, of course. I’m sorry, baby.”

If Satoru were to be a lesser man, he would've lost it by now, but he isn't a lesser man, and unfortunately for him, his IQ manages to drop to at least sixty when you're near. 

So, if you claim it’s his fault that you're leaving tiny little indents on his—newly purchased and highly favoured—trousers, then that might as well be a fact, because the sheer amusement on your face is enough to trigger the release of oxytocin for him. 

By the end of the night, his trousers are rumpled, and his face is covered in glossy kiss marks. Despite it all, he's right where he wants to be.

© loreshonour — 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[pixelated-daisy]

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

Commissioned fanart of Nanami Kento ♡

Want to get something commissioned? DM me!

[blossomedfloweroflove]

Tagging some of my favorite authors who would be delighted to see this

@makismei @chastiefoul

@reveries0fmine @mysteria157

@hidingwhere @nanamisleftcheek

@loreshonour @reallyreis @aquasprings

@mochiqa @sinkuna @t0jisbunny

[loreshonour]

⋆˚࿔ 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐓!𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ and his way of communicating ⧽ 𝘃𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲: 3vangel1ne_ ⧽ 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵: 0.5k

་༘࿐ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ established relationship ⧽ married life ⧽ lovesick!gojo ⧽ soft!gojo ⧽ married & in love ⧽ domestic fluff

𓂃 ࣪ ࣪˖ ִ؛༊ ִ𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ◟ 𓏲 𓂃 ࣪˖ another pilot!gojo headcanon post because i've been thinking about him a little bit too much lately

Pilot!Gojo who, time and time again, sends you a message before taking off and immediately after landing. In the years he's been married to you, it’s always come as easily as breathing. Without second-guessing himself, not even realising where exactly he is, or not having a clue in the world where his hotel is located, his thumbs seem to have a mind of their own, typing away. 

07:34 — OSAKA, JAPAN

[Satoru]: just landed, baby. as to be expected ;-)

[You]: i hope the flight was smooth!! i’m very happy you’re on the ground safely <3

23:02 — MANILA, PHILIPPINES

[Satoru]: landed safely! heading to the hotel now ❤︎

[You]: yay! go get a good night’s sleep!!

Pilot!Gojo who manages to plan nightly video calls with you before leaving. Sure, he's impossibly spontaneous and more often than not acts on impulse, which you aren't necessarily a fan of—which he quickly seemed to figure out in your years of being married—so he tries his best. 

His spontaneity forms into strategic planning. It’s not something he would've done years ago, but the mere thought of going out of his way to give you some peace of mind does him good.

He figures out which country he's going to, how long he's going to be staying there, from which date to which date, compares the time zone to the one at home, and there it is, written meticulously—considering his usually messy handwriting, it must be perfection on its own—in your shared calendar. 

20:30 — 21:30

VIDEO DATE. <3

Pilot!Gojo who writes a bunch of messages on quite colourful pieces of paper and hides them all around the house for you to find while he's away. 

One taped to the bathroom mirror, a simple, ‘wow. you look beautiful.'

Another in the hallway, right above the dark wooden wall-mounted key holder he hung up before he left, ‘I love you, baby!’

Sometimes, however, things end up differently. It’s easy to glance over them, that’s why the white paper switched to brighter, neon colours. It’s not the first time you haven't found all of them, and you're quite certain it won't be the last. You look forward to them all the same.

Pilot!Gojo who always brings you back a gift from each country he visits. If it isn't something edible (usually he brings back chocolate, if he hasn't eaten it himself by the time he's home), it’s a magnet to hang on the refrigerator. He’s aware that you're quite the collector, and despite not visiting the countries yourself, he simply loves nothing more than to help finish your collection.

Pilot!Gojo who takes his time at home very seriously. He doesn't know how long until he has to leave again, so the moment he walks through the front door—not even allowed to take off his shoes, since you're already lunging at him—he spoils you to the max. 

One might call it overcompensating, he calls it being a dutiful husband who’s finally able to have some alone time with his wife.

© loreshonour — 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[loreshonour]

▸ 𝑨𝑪𝑪𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑳 𝑭𝑰𝑳𝑬...

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄: 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: 𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: 𝟎𝟓 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 ⋮ 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ▸ 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐓!𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 ⋮ low-risk cases.

CASE 01 ⋮ "on his flight"

▸ case brief: pilot!gojo taking care of you when you're on his flight.

CASE 02 ⋮ "communication"

▸ case brief: pilot!gojo and his way of communicating.

𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

CASE 01 ⋮ "kisses aftermath"

▸ case brief: nerd!jo feeling flustered after a make-out session.

low-risk case.

CASE 02 ⋮ "sitting on his lap"

▸ case brief: nerd!jo falling asleep when you sit on his lap.

low-risk case + sensitive material.

CASE 03 ⋮ "tiny little indents"

▸ case brief: nerd!jo when you leave indents on his trousers.

low-risk case.

𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬

© loreshonour — 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[loreshonour]

▸ 𝑨𝑪𝑪𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑳 𝑭𝑰𝑳𝑬...

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄: 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: 𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: 𝟏𝟐 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬

CASE 01 ⋮ "early mornings"

▸ case brief: slow mornings with husband!nanami.

low-risk case.

CASE 02 ⋮ "slow burns"

▸ case brief: a slow burn with co-worker!nanami.

low-risk case.

𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 ⋮ 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ▸ 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 ⋮ low-risk cases.

CASE 01

CASE 02

CASE 03

𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 ⋮ 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ▸ 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 ⋮ classified + sensitive cases.

CASE 01

𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

CASE 01 ⋮ "meet-cute"

▸ case brief: nanami experiencing a meet-cute.

low-risk case.

CASE 02 ⋮ "baking"

▸ case brief: baking with husband!nanami.

low-risk case.

𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ⋮ 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ▸ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚 ⋮ classified + sensitive cases.

CASE 01 ⋮ "relaxing"

▸ case brief: nanami & higuruma relaxing on the couch.

low-risk case + sensitive material.

CASE 02 ⋮ "mixed love languages"

▸ case brief: nanami & higuruma shower you with love.

low-risk case.

𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬

CASE 01 ⋮ "my darling wife"

▸ case in progress.

CASE 02 ⋮ "life is what happens to you"

▸ case in progress.

© loreshonour — 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[loreshonour]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ husband!nanami and the attractive things he does pt. 3

tags. established relationship. married life. domestic bliss. gentle love. fluff. pet names (honey). soft!nanami. no angst. ⋮ author's note. another shorter one woo!! the heatwave is genuinely taking me out so i've not been in the mood to write or do anything else at all pffft hence why this is only 500 words and not a thousand ⋮ word count. 0.5k

Husband!Nanami who time and time again places a rough, warm hand on your lower back, the heat pooling through the silky dress you're wearing, arching into him the slightest bit, whilst he presses closer to you to avoid bumping into anyone else in this unnecessarily crowded place. 

When you look up at him, if it’s to ask or say something, it’s all the same, because he always bends down a bit, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers his response. When he's done speaking, he’ll press a brief kiss to your cheek, perhaps your jaw, and then he’ll pull back, seemingly unaware of the effect he has on you.

Husband!Nanami who is pleasantly aware that he's got some centimetres on you, even if you're above the average height for women. So, without having to ask, or not even having to utter a single word about it once throughout your long-lasting marriage, he always slows down while walking. 

It's ridiculously silly, you seem to think now and then, but it’s enough to make your heart feel warm nonetheless. 

Taking a walk in the park? His fingers are entwined with yours, and his long legs seem to stop going at their fast pace so that he can keep up with you. It’s you glancing up at him that does it for Kento—cheeks flushed, pupils slightly dilated, the softest of smiles plastered on your face—and he can't help but allow his lips to tug up into a gentle smile. Oh, how nice it feels to hold the entire world in his hands.

Husband!Nanami whose tone softens when speaking to you. Usually a bit bored and calm, showcasing his practical and beyond professional demeanour, but when he turns to you—lips parting, a gentle hum, tone turning reassuring in every way possible, soothing and serene—he melts.

Husband!Nanami who comes home from a long day at work, the front door closing behind him (a little louder than usual, the lock clicking within the span of a second), and his sleek black shoes being left in the entryway whilst he makes his way to the kitchen.

He doesn't waste a second to squeeze his front against your back, hands pressing against either your love handles or soft belly, tugging you impossibly close. It’s only sooner or later that he drops his head in the crook of your neck, presses a kiss to the skin there and finally allows his shoulders to drop while an exhausted sigh escapes his lips.

Husband!Nanami who always looks back at you. It doesn't matter if it’s because he's leaving for work in the morning, before you close the front door behind him, he’ll glance back over his shoulder, his lips stretching into the tiniest of smiles. 

Sometimes his hazel eyes will soften immensely, other times he’ll mouth the words ‘see you later, honey’. But one thing he doesn't need to mouth, or say out loud, is that he loves you more than life itself, for he proves it every day.

© loreshonour — don't repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[loreshonour]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ husband!nanami and the alluring things he does

tags. suggestive. nsfw. smut (not explicit?). married life. established relationship. soft!nanami. domestic bliss. gentle. ⋮ author's note. went from 'attractive things he does' to 'alluring things he does' and although i think i kind of like this i can't reread it again because i'm genuinely going to cringe, i've never written anything like this before LMAO, it's SO out of my comfort zone oh my days ⋮ word count. 1.0k

Husband!Nanami who always, time and time again, makes sure to get your consent in a verbal way before continuing whatever he's started. It doesn't matter to him if he's been married to you for half a decade or that he knows you'll constantly say yes to certain things.

It’s a husky, “Tell me to slow down and I will, honey,” here. And a firm, “Are you all right?” there. It’s his eyes flickering up to catch the expressions on your face, especially when something new is involved, and if he catches even a trace of doubt, he’ll stop.

Husband!Nanami who, despite trying his best to stay composed, always looks like a complete mess after a make-out session. Bottom lip shining with the slightest hint of saliva on it—or your lip gloss, you're not entirely sure, and neither is he—until he swipes his tongue over it.

Blond hair messy, the short strands disorganised and dishevelled because you've been running your fingers through it for the last fifteen minutes. Hazel eyes focused on your face with a horrifying type of intensity, pupils slowly dilating, chest rising and falling in a restless, uneven pace, meanwhile his fingers twitch from where they're holding onto your waist.

Husband!Nanami who can't help but place a mirror near your shared bed and make love to you in front of it. His devoted eyes stay entirely focused on yours, never wavering, not even thinking about glancing away in case he might miss a single facial expression you make. One hand stays entwined with yours, squeezing when it gets too much, kisses being placed on the smooth skin of your shoulders, and the hairs on the back of your neck shooting up straight.

A fun fact about Nanami? He doesn't boss you around, but the one thing he wants you to do during intimate moments is to tell him the things you find pretty about yourself. Nothing more, nothing less, (something about seeing yourself the way he sees you, which is nothing short of perfect).

Husband!Nanami who lets his warm, gentle hands which wouldn't dare lay a finger on you, wander over every part of your body. Every dip and curve is thoroughly touched by his finger pads, promising and adoring, even the parts you dislike about yourself. Those are the ones he's most fond of—the soft indent of your waist, the faint violet tracks on your breasts, the flesh-toned and sunken stretch marks on your hips that spread all the way to the skin of your butt—and he intentionally spends extra time worshipping them.

Husband!Nanami who places a lingering, wet kiss on your throat, hot breath fanning the skin, while your pulse immediately quickens due to the feeling. And then he's fisting his hands in your hair, tugging your head back the slightest bit so his lips are able to move up to your jawline, and he continues to pepper kisses all over the skin there, too. “You’re incredibly gorgeous,” he’ll whisper, breathy and completely undone. “So beautiful, darling.”

Husband!Nanami who takes off his belt, purposefully slowing down the action, while keeping eye contact with you. The first time he did it, in the early stages of your relationship, where everything was still new and nerve-wracking, you had flushed a pretty red colour while you bit down on your bottom lip, and back then, in that specific moment, he decided that he wanted that look to be reserved for him and him only for a long time yet to come.

Husband!Nanami whose lips follow wherever his hands go. He’ll start by unhurriedly taking off your shirt and unclasping your bra, and once those are thrown to the other side of the room, he’ll press kisses to the bare flesh in front of him. From your collarbone to the valley of your breasts, hands lightly holding down on your hips since you tend to squirm when he reaches the softness of your belly, and so on.

There's nothing better than having him keep eye contact with you from where he's kneeling between your legs, your thighs almost making him suffocate—although he secretly thinks it’d be an incredible way to go—whilst he presses fleeting kisses to your inner thighs.

Husband!Nanami who’s become awfully skilled at lowering his voice, hazel eyes softening while his hand never lets go of yours. “I know, darling, I know.” His lips brushing the shell of your ear, they’re mere whispers in a husky voice, yet it’s the only thing you're able to hold onto. “Oh, my love.”

With each groan that escapes his lips, you’re arching your back into him more. “You’re doing so good for me, so perfect.” Foreheads pressed together, and even if the only thing you do is roll your hips, the praise just keeps coming. “You’re such a good girl for me, baby.”

Husband!Nanami who kisses your sweaty forehead afterwards, nose pressing against your hairline for a simple second before he gets a damp cloth from the bathroom. Within seconds, the material is pressed against you, cleaning up the sticky mess that's left staining your inner thighs. “Feeling all right, honey?” he asks in a low tone, steady and peaceful, despite still trying to catch his breath.

He's aware you're too tired to move, that's why he makes sure to clean you up as thoroughly as possible, and ushers, more like practically carries, you to the bathroom so you can use the toilet before fully dozing off.

Husband!Nanami who pulls you flat on top of his body right before you fall asleep. Your leg thrown over his hip, face nuzzled deeply into the crook of his neck, the smell of his cologne, mixed with the slight remnants of sweat and a scent that smells an awful lot like dark musk making its way into your nostrils, whilst your hair tickles his chin with each movement you make.

He easily slips one warm hand under your sleeping shirt and runs the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, ignoring the goosebumps he leaves in its wake.

© loreshonour — don't repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[loreshonour]

romance tropes

pairings [separate]: mattheo riddle x reader, blaise zabini x reader, theodore nott x reader, lorenzo berkshire x reader, draco malfoy x reader

author's note: this is an old draft i just wanted to get out there soo ^_^

✦ MATTHEO RIDDLE ⸺ enemies to lovers

✦ BLAISE ZABINI ⸺ lovers to enemies to lovers

✦ THEODORE NOTT ⸺ grumpy x sunshine

✦ LORENZO BERKSHIRE ⸺ childhood friends to lovers

✦ DRACO MALFOY ⸺ star-crossed lovers

© loreshonour — don't repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[loreshonour]

TY FOR THE MATTHEO HEADCANONS 😭💧❤️‍🩹

NO PROBLEMMM !! i honestly enjoyed making them, and a part two might be on its way 🙂‍↕️

[loreshonour]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ husband!nanami and the attractive things he does pt. 2

tags. married life. established relationship. domestic bliss. gentle love. fluff. ⋮ author's note. this is shorter than my usual headcanons posts just because i normally have two (maybe even three) works planned for next week instead of only one :-) ⋮ word count. 0.4k

Husband!Nanami who handles you as if you're a fragile porcelain doll ready to break any second now—no matter the tears staining your fuller cheeks, red splotches appearing on your cheekbones, waterline pouring full with tears, hands jerkily reaching out for his middle—and perhaps you might be, so he lets you.

His warm, calloused hands cup your face, thumb rubbing back and forth, tears dribbling onto his flesh. “Hey,” he whispers, low and gentle, shuffling closer on the bed so he's able to push his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he repeats, pressing a kiss to a falling tear. “It’s all right, darling.”

He’ll remain in that position until you calm down, noses nudging against one another, soft and hesitant touches not to startle you, and it comes pretty close to being a perfect moment that way.

Husband!Nanami who trails the tip of his nose over your bare shoulders, pressing fleeting kisses to your skin as he goes, until he completely nuzzles into the warmth of your neck while being pressed with his front against your back.

Blond strands of hair tickle the side of your face whenever he moves, even the slightest bit. A kiss here, a chuckle there, and if you squirm, he holds you a little tighter. 

You swear you can feel his mouth tug up against your skin each time you sigh out of pure contentment, and he swears he can feel you sag into his body more and more until you finally fall asleep.

Both feelings are correct, since he definitely doesn't try to hide his smile, and you most certainly sag into him and seek him out while drifting off.

Husband!Nanami who tries not to—although he seriously can't help it—let his eyes wander down to your lips when you're speaking to him.

Prolonged eye contact is a strong suit of his, yet he can't help but allow his physical attraction to take over every now and then. He’d be able to recite everything you've just said in the last ten minutes, and he’ll reply to your statements afterwards, but once you're done talking, he’ll indulge in himself just once and—

Lean forward to press a lingering kiss to your lips. You’ll pause all movements and stop talking, hands going up to cup his face, and once you smile into it, he’ll know it wasn't unwarranted in the slightest.

Husband!Nanami who traces every line on your palm while he's reading a book as if it’s incredibly significant. Lightly, almost reverently, like you're someone who deserves to be worshipped for simply existing. Eventually he’ll weave your fingers together, squeezing once, twice, thrice, before he settles into the touch, not once taking his eyes off the words in front of him.

Husband!Nanami who leans forward in the seat where he's manspreading, black trousers tightening and spreading comfortably against the thick muscles of his thighs, just to tuck an escaping strand of hair behind your ear.

© loreshonour — don't repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[loreshonour]

༄.⭑ boss!mattheo riddle and his love/hate relationship with you

tags. boss x employee. mean!mattheo riddle. office romance. grumpy x sunshine. controlling behaviour (kinda?) ⋮ author's note. i genuinely abandoned the 'multi-fandom' part of my profile the last few weeks but since someone asked !!! here it isss. i also still have to upload the series masterlist for this one, oops ⋮ word count. 1.0k

Boss!Mattheo Riddle who despises you from the very first moment he sees you. Sure, he's the one who hired you as his assistant, but disliking you has become a part of him, settling down into his very core.

Perhaps it’s the way you have an opinion on every little thing happening, or how your smiles are too sunny for a London office usually filled with miserable faces. The way you bring in self-baked goods for your colleagues and always make sure to stop by his office to hand him something as well. 

Maybe it’s the way your presentations are continuously the brightest, filled with neon pink, blue, purple colours, while others are never-changing. Black, white, grey. 

These are only ideas, after all, but one reason why he definitely despises you, and is sure of it, is because you linger. You walk in, and the dull air disappears. Your energy follows you wherever you go, and you make an amazing impression on everyone you meet— which is certainly a talent in itself.

Boss!Mattheo Riddle who praises you after you pitch him an idea, claiming it’s revolutionary in the best way one can imagine, leaving you high on ecstasy and fulfilment. 

This exact feeling disappears not even three hours later, because he goes back to treating you with the cold disdain you've gotten so used to over the years. For the rest of the day, he’ll ignore you. The week that passes by is awfully slow and any new ideas you might pitch are dismissed without blinking an eye. 

It’s the typical hot and cold behaviour he's gotten down to perfection. It always leaves you twitching, and you're never truly sure when he’ll start talking to you again. It seems that even while being his assistant, minimal words being shared work perfectly in his world. 

Boss!Mattheo Riddle who interferes with your personal life at any given chance. It seems he's grown to become a master at this, too. 

It’s strange, truly, because working overtime has never been an issue for you, and you've never been opposed to it in any way. He simply picks the worst moments for you, and when you try to say no, he’ll give you that flat look of his. It’s no surprise that twenty minutes later you're back at your desk, completely obedient when in reality you're anything but.

You think it’s a coincidence, and he pretends it is as well. Since he seems so indifferent to everything constantly happening around him, it’s easy to put on this mask. If he heard your colleagues talking about you going out on a date after work earlier that day, then that would be his secret to keep, wouldn't it be?

Boss!Mattheo Riddle who helps you with your interest in writing, but would never allow one of your works to be published in order to keep you close to him. 

Is it completely horrible if he's blocking your own personal and career growth? Most definitely. There’s just something terrifying about coming in to work one day and seeing your desk near his secluded office completely empty, scattered with stuff belonging to someone that's not you.

The thought of you no longer lingering in his office makes his chest ache, and don’t even get him started on the contagious yet obnoxious laughter echoing throughout the entire floor of the building. The way you accidentally leave your sparkly pens in his office after a meeting, your iced coffee with too much sugar in it not taking its usual spot on the table in the conference room, or even the way your cheeks flush and how you duck your head in a shy manner whenever someone compliments you.

All these things potentially disappearing in the blink of an eye doesn't sit right with him, so sue him if he keeps you from moving higher up, he stays a happy man this way.

Boss!Mattheo Riddle who publicly corrects you when you get specific information wrong during a presentation (the kind he kept from you, not on purpose, it merely slipped his mind).

When you stare at him with big eyes afterwards in his office, pathetically, practically begging for a compliment, all he’ll do is click his tongue and barely manage to shake his head. He’s not that bad, because he’ll tell you it was completely his fault, tell you that you did so great, and that you were just oh-so remarkable, and you’ll feel something tug on your heartstrings, unaware you've already fallen deep.

Boss!Mattheo Riddle whose eyes burn holes into the back of your head whenever you're focusing on your mandatory tasks.

It doesn't matter if all your notebooks are spread out messily on your desk while you're preparing your agenda for tomorrow, or when you're scheduling Mattheo’s meetings and calls for the upcoming week that you've been made aware of. Like clockwork, a moth drawn to the flame— his eyes, even from his office, are locked onto your figure, following every subtle and even the slightest of movement. 

When you're walking into a room, his eyes are focusing on the door long before you walk in, as if the mere notion of you being anywhere near him is a sixth sense of some sort to him. 

Dark brown eyes flickering with something no one has seen on his face before, an expression completely foreign. A hint of something softer, nearly bordering on being considered tender.

Boss!Mattheo Riddle who singles you out and decides that working with you, and you alone, while the sun is setting outside is beyond productive. These late nights or meetings have never been necessary, and he could do them with anyone else— yet his nuanced favouritism shows.

Boss!Mattheo Riddle who gets incredibly heated during small arguments he has with you, in a way that the entire room fills with tension. Not dying down soon, noses almost grazing, aggravated breaths mingling, hands twitching due to not being able to reach out.

Boss!Mattheo Riddle who hates you with every fibre of being, and still, in an unexplainable way, he can't stay away. Everyone knows he's tried.

© loreshonour — don't repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[loreshonour]

nanami kento & higuruma hiromi love to relax on the couch with their girl after exceptionally tiresome days at work. ⋮ tags. pet names (honey, sweetheart). gentle love. they've both got veiny hands/arms (i couldn't help myself). cute & sweet! ⋮ word count. 0.3k ⋮ art credit. owwllly

There’s something oddly comforting, and incredibly lucky, about being squished on the couch between two men who would walk to the end of the earth for you. The big arms are merely a bonus, you'd say. So are the broad chests and expensive-smelling colognes, since all they do is add allure.

A strong arm is wrapped around your waist from your left side, the veins on Nanami’s arm pulsing each time he even slightly adjusts his grip on your warm flesh. 

On your other side, however, there's a heavy hand resting on your thigh. Lean, lightly tanned fingers digging into your skin, tightening whenever you try to wriggle closer to both touches. “Are you comfortable, honey?”

You’re fast to bob your head up and down, not sparing a second, not even allowing yourself to second-guess the entire situation. 

“You’re rather fidgety tonight, sweetheart,” another rough voice speaks up, hazel eyes darting over every small worry line on your face. 

Higuruma squeezes your thigh, and his dark sunken brown eyes, too, are focused on your face. 

“I’m fine,” you tell them, voice confident and hushed to not interrupt the intimate moment. You top it off by pressing a sweet kiss to both their cheeks, lip gloss being left behind. 

You rush to wipe it off, but Nanami’s already tipping your head back with his index finger, thumb brushing over your bottom lip, “So beautiful, hm?”

Your pupils dilate, and your cheeks flush an embarrassingly dark shade of red when Higuruma presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, making you completely squished between two sets of broad shoulders.

Like any sane person, you don't complain— truly, it might as well be a dream come true. You relax into it, a stifled sigh brushing past your lips, the air hitting Nanami’s thumb, and you get rewarded with another sweet kiss from Higuruma.

© loreshonour — don't repost, translate, or copy any of my works.