I love you

xoxo desi girl REQUESTS OPEN!

[nanaluvsyouu]

―୨୧⋆ ˚

𝒲𝑒𝓁𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑔 •ᴗ•

reqs are always open!

ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ: 𖹭 call me A, or anything you'd like! 𖹭 she/her 𖹭 05' 𖹭 european/british + desi 𖹭 biomed student

𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: 𖹭 I write for a variety of groups 𖹭 I am a university student so I write whenever I'm free 𖹭 I write for desi readers and desi events

ʀᴜʟᴇꜱ: ♡ no smut ♡ no member x member

link to all my work so far! groups I write for

[nanaluvsyouu]

Hey guys, this is a very difficult post to make because I really love being on Tumblr.

However, after a very long reflection and trying to come up with ideas on what to write about, due to no requests being sent and a lack of interactions with my fics.

I have decided to close this account. I will not be deleting this account as I may come back if I get the motivation again, but for now, I'm leaving.

Being on Tumblr, writing fics and getting to know the beautiful desi girls that never failed to make me emotional by how much my writing made them happy and see, has been an inspiring and changing experience.

It has inspired me to write stories with desi women and people as part of the narrative, because we exist and we matter.

For now, I am available on Instagram under the username @/nanaluvsyouuuu (the PFP is very pinkish, and the name is nana with a pink heart).

I love you all, goodbye my loves <3

[nanaluvsyouu]

en nuit - fluff

The apartment always smelled of two things: the sharp, metallic tang of Seongmin’s espresso and the dry, comforting scent of aging paper. Your shared home had become a labyrinth of bookshelves, and if the floor-to-ceiling shelves weren’t enough, the stacks creeping up the walls were a testament to your addiction.

You were currently pressed against the closet door in the hallway, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. You had just returned from the bookstore—a quick "trip for a notebook" that had inevitably spiraled into a haul of five new hardcovers—and you knew, with absolute certainty, that Seongmin would consider this "too many."

Just until he leaves for his meeting, you thought, sliding the heavy plastic bag into the back of your closet, behind your winter coats.

"You’re being awfully quiet back there," a voice murmured, smooth and low.

You jumped, your hand gripping the closet door handle. Seongmin was leaning against the doorframe of the living room, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked effortlessly handsome in his charcoal sweater, but his dark eyes were narrowed, tracking your every move with a playful, yet sharp intensity.

"I’m just… cleaning," you lied, offering a tight, guilty smile.

Seongmin paced toward you, his footsteps silent on the hardwood. He didn't stop until he was standing directly behind you, his warmth radiating against your back. He reached out, his hand resting on the edge of the closet door, effectively boxing you in.

"Cleaning, huh?" he teased, his voice dropping an octave. "You’ve been 'cleaning' in that closet for ten minutes, and you haven’t moved a single hanger."

"It’s a complicated organisational system," you stammered.

Seongmin hummed, a low vibration that traveled through you. He leaned closer, his chin brushing against your shoulder as he tilted his head toward the dark slit of the closet. "Is that so? I’m starting to get curious, sweetheart. It’s a bit cramped in there for a person, but maybe that’s the appeal."

His fingers traced the edge of the closet door, his movements deliberate. "Tell me," he whispered, his tone shifting from casual teasing to something more possessive, "is there a boy hiding in there? Some secret admirer waiting for you to finish your latest chapter?"

You turned your head, meeting his gaze. There was a flicker of something raw in his eyes—a flash of genuine, sharp jealousy that he tried to veil with a smirk. He didn't like it when you had secrets, even if they were just literary ones. He gripped the door handle, his knuckles whitening slightly.

"Move," he commanded softly, though his mouth curved into a challenging grin. "Let me see what you’re hiding from me. If it’s not an intruder, then I expect a show-and-tell. Unless, of course, you’re trying to keep me out of your private world again."

You sighed, knowing the game was up. You pushed the door open, revealing the colorful spines of your new treasures peeking out from behind an oversized trench coat.

Seongmin’s expression shifted from mock suspicion to an exasperated, fond sigh. He looked at the books, then back at you, his thumb brushing over your jawline.

"Books," he exhaled, the tension in his shoulders finally snapping. He leaned in, pressing a lingering, slightly biting kiss to the corner of your mouth. "You’re lucky you’re the only person I’m jealous of, because if that were a man, he wouldn’t have made it out of the closet alive."

[nanaluvsyouu]

hiii i love your writing so much 🤍 could you write for one pact maybe? I see that you stan them!! Something cute like ot5 bf headcanons or maybe for seongmin <33 whatever feels right!!!

ofc! I wrote two fics based on both ideas, this is for seongmin specifically!

[nanaluvsyouu]

Hi guys,

I'm struggling a little bit rn, so I will be logging off. I will come back soon (hopefully).

I love you guys

-Nana <3

[goth-queen]

[nanaluvsyouu]

Wow - Crack, attempt at humour

asking ATEEZ ragebait questions

Really bad attempt at humour </3

[nanaluvsyouu]

Please do the asking them ragebait questions with ateez pleaseee thnx

ofcc, it's here!

[nanaluvsyouu]

hi nana !! miss u sm <3

I miss you more mama, what have you been up tooo <3

[nanaluvsyouu]

ALSO WHO ARE YOUR ANDTEAM BIASES??? I've been wondering for a while it's so hard for me 😭 but after months of deciding for me I'd say it's euijoo and fuma hsjsksks but again they're all so talented.....

he's so boba :(

HMM, I'd say my bias is Maki, weirdly because we both speak german lmaoo. You give major fuma and ej vibes heheh, it makes sense why you like them, and yeah exactly, they're all so talented, sometimes even I stray away from maki... what can I say, talented men are just so cool

[nanaluvsyouu]

POOKIE

HOW ARE YOU????

BABYYYY, I'm good yami mami, how are youuu??

[nanaluvsyouu]

hey babes ive been a silent reader. i saw your recent post of leaving, if you really wanna leave the ill respect your decision if you really want to :( i just want you to know that your fics really helped me get through my stressful college semesters and became my calm during my hard days when me and my dick situationship had no contact HAHAHAHW

i love you and i hope your heart find its way back to writing 🫶

Stop, this made me cry like a baby.

You're so fucking sweet.

I really needed this :(

It's conversations like these that make Tumblr a worthwhile place.

I'm really glad my work was able to put a smile on your face lovely <3

I'm always here if you wanna chat or just rant. I hope your semester went well and you're doing alright now :D

[nanaluvsyouu]

Aira Gaira - Fluff, slightly suggestive?

Guys, I hope this wasn't cringe, I've never written suggestive stuff before lmao. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

The heavy silk of the lengha feels cool against your skin, even as the stifling heat of the evening begins to settle in. You stand before the vanity, fussing with the heavy gold maang tikka centred on your forehead, your fingers trembling slightly.

The deep, royal blue of the fabric is vibrant against your skin, embroidered with intricate gold thread that catches the light of the bedroom lamps, turning every movement into a flicker of luxury.

You hear the soft, rhythmic creak of the floorboards behind you before you hear him breathe.

In the glass's reflection, Sungho appears. He’s leaning casually against the doorframe, one shoulder dropped, his arms crossed over his chest. He isn’t moving. He’s just watching—a heavy, localised silence radiating from him that makes the hair on your arms stand up.

"You're staring," you murmur, meeting his gaze in the mirror. You try to sound teased, but your voice comes out breathless.

Sungho’s eyes trail slowly from the crown of your head down to the flare of the skirt, his gaze lingering on the way the bodice hugs your ribs.

He pushes off the doorframe, his movements predatory and entirely unhurried. He closes the distance between you in four long strides, his presence immediately overwhelming the space.

He stops directly behind you, his hands coming to rest lightly, possessively, on the slope of your shoulders. Through the thin silk of your dupatta, you can feel the radiating heat of his palms. He leans down, his chin brushing against the shell of your ear, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

"Staring doesn't even begin to cover it," he whispers, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that always makes your knees weak.

His hands slide down, his thumbs tracing the line of your collarbone before slipping beneath the fabric of your dupatta, his fingers brushing the dip of your waist. He turns your body so you’re facing him, his grip firm, grounding you.

"The blue," he says, his thumb tracing the soft skin of your jawline, his eyes dark with an intensity that makes your pulse hammer against your throat. "It’s dangerously distracting."

He leans in closer, invading your personal space until there isn’t a fraction of an inch left between you. His eyes drop to your lips, then drift back up, searching yours with a hunger that makes the room feel suddenly, suffocatingly small.

"I don't think I can handle you walking out of this room looking like that," he murmurs, his hand sliding to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. "Everyone is going to want to look at you. And I think I might be feeling… incredibly selfish tonight."

He tilts his head, his lips hovering just a hair’s breadth from yours, the scent of his cologne enveloping you like a shroud.

"Maybe we should just stay right here instead."

[nanaluvsyouu]

All my Tumblr friends have left, lowkey tempted to follow them too. The lack of requests and interactions is so disheartening🥲 like why am I begging for requests, and when I do get requests, it flops.

I mean, that's fine, I'm not amazing at writing fanfics, and I get that maybe when I post stuff, most people are not online.

It's very lonely on Tumblr, I miss my mutuals :( I miss yapping with my desi girls and whatnot.

I'm done with exams and have been here for a very long time, but I think I'll cut it short.

I just wanted to vent. I'll post my WIP, then probably just stay a while, and then leave Tumblr for good.

[nanaluvsyouu]

SUNGHO N LENGHA IN THE SAME SENTENCE OMGGGG IM MORE EXCITED FOR THIS THAN MY COLLEGE ADMISSIONS RESULTS LOVE U NANA AND YOUR DELICIOUS BRAIN sorry for screaming im rlly gen excited 🥺

HAHAHAHAH I'M GLAD MY DEAR NONNIE!! I LOVE YOU MOREEE and no NEED TO APOLOGISEEE, I LOVE ITT!!

[nanaluvsyouu]

Current WIP (work in progress)

Ateez Fake Texts: Ragebaiting your boyfriend/ husband via text!

BND sungho x reader (fluff/ suggestive): Sungho admiring his beautiful girl in her lengha, his eyes travelling across her figure, wondering how he got so lucky to be her man.

Jongho x reader (comfort): y/n shows jongho her childhood pictures and he notices how mature she looked in them, how all of the worlds preassure seemed to have landed on her small shoulders.

[nanaluvsyouu]

rose - angst

warning: major character death comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

All you had ever begged Juhoon for were flowers, not the expensive kind, just the type you could put in a vase. It didn't even matter if he plucked the flowers from his backyard, and yet Juhoon treated your request like an inconvenience.

Sometimes you wondered if you had asked him for flowers or the moon.

"I just want flowers hoonie, I don't care what kind-"

Juhoon had laughed, a soft, dismissive sound that felt like sandpaper against your soul. "They die in a week, love. It’s a waste of money. Why buy something designed to rot?"

He never bought them. For years, your vases sat empty, collecting dust like your unspoken grievances.

You bought your own flowers, sometimes, arranging them in the kitchen and catching him glancing at them with a look of genuine confusion, as if you were wasting your breath on a ritual he refused to acknowledge.

You stopped asking eventually, because the silence that followed your requests was louder than any argument you could have staged. You just kept loving him, a devotion so absolute it became a terminal illness.

-

"I'll bring them tomorrow, okay? The flowers, as a long overdue present, okay." He said, you gave him a curt nod as you continued chopping the vegetables in your kitchen.

A small pathetic smile on your face, they were just flowers, and he had made promises like these before, but something about this promise felt real.

You knew he was busy with work, and that tomorrow his break officially started, meaning he had time to be with you!

You sighed as you started wondering how you and Juhoon had become like this.

What made you so pathetic that the smallest promise made your heart jump?

Did it start two years into your relationship with him when he started blowing off your calls and cancelling plans with you because he wanted to play basketball with his boys?

At first, you didn't mind because, well, he's his own person and you weren't expecting him to spend every hour of his time with you.

But slowly the change came.

At first he started blowing off your plans, saying he was too busy and too tired from practice to hang out with you.

Then it became you being clingy and annoying by always blowing up his phone.

And then it was you who weren't understanding and twisted him into the bad guy.

All you wanted was a bit of love, any evidence that loving him wasn't a losing game.

You sighed as you realised you should probably pick your brother up from school, seeing the rain made you groan, realising you'd have to take your friend's old car.

How was that thing still driving?

--

Juhoon carefully got out of the car, the bouquet of flowers in his hands. Fixing his suit as he rehearsed his apology in his head.

He sighed, staring at the dirt on the ground. He walked a bit until he saw you, a sad smile on his face as he started replaying all the words he wished he could take back.

He laid the flowers down gently, carefully arranging the stems so they wouldn’t droop into the mud. He stayed there for a long time, crouching in the rain, his fingers brushing the petals with a tenderness you had spent an entire lifetime begging for.

"I brought them," he whispered, his voice cracking, broken and hollow. "You wanted them so much. Why aren't you here to see them?"

He wept then, a jagged, ugly sound that tore through the quiet of the graveyard. He gave you the flowers, finally, when it didn't matter.

He gave you the grand, beautiful gesture you had craved, but he gave it to a box of wood and silk, to a body that could no longer smell their sweetness or feel their velvet petals.

You watched from the silence of the ether, feeling nothing but a distant, haunting pity.

He was finally thinking of you, finally mourning what he had refused to nurture, but the irony was a cold comfort.

He had waited until you were buried to finally let his love bloom, burying himself in the scent of lilies while you were already gone, finally free of the slow, beautiful death of loving him.