honeymoon- nanami kento x wife!reader
a/n- in preparation for this week’s episode, this is my ode to my husband
warnings- fem!reader, unprotected sex, praise, missionary pos, mating press, belly bulge, nanami has a big d, implied breeding kink, fluffff
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Nanami Kento had been dreaming of a vacation. Somewhere with sand and palm trees, warm weather, the ocean, you. Now it would take a lot for him to admit this because he’s not a dreamer, per se, especially with his strict work ethic, but the amount of times he had to catch himself during a shift from drifting off in a fantasy about sleeping in or relaxing on the beach, you could say he had started to reflect his child-like self.
Except every single one of those dreams could not rival the feeling of experiencing his honeymoon with you. He’d gotten what he wanted. A private villa, surrounded by greenery with a whole rainbow of colors blessing the space. Red, orange, pink, and especially white flowers would pop out from the dense leaves of the tropical garden that was essentially your front yard, their sweet perfume just light enough to not be too overbearing. The villa was perched in a cluster of palms, the white-sand beaches of the Caribbean literally at your disposal by a pathway from your bedroom, its wood-lined trail leading down to a private oceanside cove of sand and the most vivid aquamarine water you’d ever seen.
It had been five days since the two of you had arrived at your little oasis, 120 hours of complete and utter relaxation accompanied by sheer happiness. You could barely contain your excitement for the trip when he’d announced the surprise destination a month before your wedding, and that giddiness you were once feeling was multiplied tenfold. Kento Nanami was finally your husband. The man you had fallen for was now tied to you legally and emotionally, the two of you matching with the golden bands placed upon your fingers, yours just a tad bit more extravagant with the stone you had dreamt of forged perfectly into the smooth metal.
Your favorite gift you had received though was once again from your husband. It had been given on the day of your wedding, a little white, bow-tied box placed in your hands before the reception. Upon opening it, you were met with a pretty bracelet, a twisted chain of pure platinum so uniformly perfect, you knew your husband had picked it. Your favorite part however, was the tiny charm hanging from the chain, a cursive “k” inscribed into the precious material, a clear sign of your newly wed’s hand in the purchase. “I’m yours now,” he had whispered into your hair, kissing away a stray tear from your cheek before helping you clasp the delicate chain around your wrist.
For days you had thanked him any way you could for his kindness, the two new additions he’d gifted so beautifully thoughtful, gifts that certainly garnered a lot of attention, especially when it came to some.. exerting activities.
It was like the atmosphere had turned you two into animals, your bodies sore from the endless (sorry for lack of a better word), fucking, the tension so thick you could feel it heavy in your chest, the warm, salty breeze flowing through the mesh, white curtains of your bedroom doing nothing to help calm your lustful state.
It was nearly dusk and your current session had started about an hour ago, any and every position you could think of already tried, your body turned and flipped a multitude of times before you were placed on your back again, thighs pushed up against your chest, your legs falling over your husband’s broad shoulders.
Your throat was dry from the fountain of moans constantly spilling from your mouth, Nanami’s name starting to sound like an imaginary word from the amount of times you’d choked out the syllables. Don’t be too embarrassed though because he was just as knocked as you, his skin flush from exertion, sweat dampening his blonde locks, and his usually cool tone of voice had turned desperate, your own name a slurred grumble or groan every time he felt you clench around him.
Your silky, white nightgown had been discarded long ago, the little scrap of fabric on the floor reminding you of what had started this escapade in the first place. The memory of Nanami’s eyes darkening when you’d emerged for bedtime had your stomach tightening and eyes squeezing shut. You’d known him for who knows how long and he still managed to make you feel like a horny teenager with just one look.
“My perfect wife,” he panted into your neck, heavy cock nudging your deepest parts, you could feel him in your belly, could even see him in your belly, the area below your navel molding just slightly into the shape of his cock every time he would push into you.
Your skin was glowing from the last remnants of sunlight reaching through the gauzey curtains, the ocean waves gentle as they crashed along the shore, wrapping you in a cocoon of pure passion, the current moment so perfect and loving, one of Nanami’s hands snaking into your palm to ground you, the other resting beside your head as he kissed the tender curve of your neck.
He was a warm lover. Caring, romantic, a listener. Someone who focuses on giving instead of stealing pleasure. That’s why it was so easy to give him your trust, to open yourself up to him emotionally, and physically. Someone who easily outshined anyone when it came to choosing who to share your remaining years with.
Your ring fingers clinked together when he pushed into you with a particularly needy thrust, the golden bands once again twining as his fingers curled over your own in a firm lock. “Only yours,” you whimpered out, voice almost breaking from your very vulnerable position, your chest compromised as your legs were propped up, the backs of your thighs fitting against his chest, folding over his shoulders at the knees.
Not only did your words drive him crazy, but the little jingle he would hear every time his hips connected with your own had his eyebrows knitting with some primal need to actually make you his. The bracelet he’d gifted you had ended up clasped around your delicate ankle, the silver charm glinting his initial in the low lights, every little reflection catching his peripheral, spurring him on. You had done it on purpose. You had known he would have you folded sooner or later and you knew how much he loved to mark you, that piece of jewelry a literal signing of his name on you.
Your mouths latched onto each other, hurried kisses ending in heavy breaths against each other’s face or neck, eventually your foreheads being the place of rest as he continued to fuck you with every ounce of energy in his body.
“-love you, s’much,” you murmured, voice lilting with the rising pleasure in your core, his thick length prodding every ridge you had to offer, that spongey spot of nerves catching his head with every pass, eliciting a gasp from your lips, Nanami’s jaw clenching as he held himself back from completely plowing into you, your approaching climax drawing a rush of liquid from your twitching cunt, trickling onto his thighs.
“I love you,” he kissed you this time, his strong hand fisting the sheets beside your head, the other still clutching onto your hand as he knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock feeling like a full-blown spear impaling you, the only thing keeping you sane being his mouth on you, and the sweet-nothings groaned from his lips.
***
It was dark by the time you two had truly finished with each other, your body curled up in Nanami’s lap as he lounged with you on the large chairs placed outside the curtains of your bedroom, the moonlight bouncing off the waves as they continued their trek across the shore.
His nimble fingers traced gentle shapes on your back, your upper body covered by his blue shirt, dwarfing your form in a pool of fabric, Nanami modeling your “half-nakedness” with only a pair of boxers, his strong legs visible to your very sleepy, but eager eyes.
Some type of tropical, cricket creature hummed a pretty song, coaxing your eyelids to flutter, your body sinking further into your husband’s hold, your cheek nestled gently against the soft curves of his collarbone, his heartbeat steady in your ear.
Taking note of your drifting consciousness, Nanami smiled down at your curled up form, fingers slowly letting up on their brief massage session to brace his hold. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, kissing the top of your hair with such tenderness you almost agreed to get up and listen, but he was just so warm and cozy.
Pretending to not hear him, you put on your best sleeping face, mouth opening slightly to really pull it off, the tiniest of snores leaving you in a very convincing manner. Silence followed your antics before a rumble vibrated from the chest of the man you lied on, a soft laugh leaving him as he took in your ‘sleeping state’, a laugh that had your lips twitching, a smile almost breaking out on your face.
“What a shame.. the Mrs. has fallen asleep on me,” he sighed, voice filled with faux sorrow, and when he relaxed back into the chair, you thought the victory was yours, nuzzling back against his chest to comfortably relax again. That was.. before your world was turned upside down, a yelp echoing from your throat as Nanami hoisted you over his shoulder, your bottom cradled by his large hand as he smiled that stupid smile of his and trekked back into the bedroom, all fatigue gone from the two of you, replaced with the teasing air of aching want.
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god bless girlcock and a full bush 🫶🏾💕
I don't know how to tell y'all this but Jessica did not threaten Gwen. Ever.
As in 'if Miguel finds out (on his own) that I let you come (here) (it won't look good for either of us)'
And then GWEN reacts as if Jessica threatened to rat her out, even if Jess never did that.
Her saying 'finds out' instead of 'if I tell him' implies that Jess never planned on ratting to Miguel. She was afraid he'd find out some other way - which he did.
Like, yes - Jessica is exasperated here. But not because Gwen saw Miles, she's pissed because The Spot has now escaped.
But she never threatened to rat Gwen out, she never tipped of Miguel about anything. Miguel only found out once the hole opened in Mumbattan.
Jessica is the only one that sees Gwen leaving on the rooftop. And because Hobie's portals look different, she knows it's someone close to him. But Hobie doesn't know where Miles lives - Gwen does.
So in this shot, she knows whoever is up there is 1) close to Hobie and 2) knows where Miles lives. That can only be two people - Peter, or Gwen. And Hobie is way closer to Gwen.
Jessica has all the info to know that Gwen is now universe jumping with technology she got from Hobie. That's HUGE information, considering Miguel has no idea that other people can universe jump without his assistance.
Jess still doesn't rat Gwen out.
Jessica isn't perfect considering she was beating the absolute dogshit outta Miles for no reason - but I think people REALLY mischaracterize her relationship with Gwen.
Jessica never threatened Gwen. She never told Miguel anything.
Jessica was the one who let Gwen come to 1610 - hence the 'If Miguel finds out I let you come-'
And when things went south, she still gave Gwen a chance to try and clean up her own mess, by sending her to Mumbattan.
Jessica did FAR more trying to help out Gwen than Peter did for Gwen or Miles. While Peter physically restrains Miles (ITSV) and gets him caught (ATSV) -
Jessica talks Miguel into accepting Gwen, gives her the mission to 1610, and gives her multiple chances to clean up her mess. All while keeping the info from Miguel until the last possible second.
Was she wrong for kicking Miles in the chest. Yeah. That's unarguable. 😐
Is she a shit mentor? I don't think so!
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I've been meaning to write a longer post about this but it's 2am and I just needed to yell this!!!
I feel like a year out, it's really easy to misremember what exactly was said despite remembering the overall gist of it - but I think small things like these matter in dialogue.
We're meant to react like Gwen - the kneejerk reaction of 'Don't tell Miguel!'.
But Gwen saying that was a reflection of her own fears, NOT a response to a threat given by Jess. Jess never intended on getting Gwen sent home.
Put some respeckt on Jess' name alright 😤😤 She ain't perfect but some of the beef y'all got with her is unfounded frfr
Anyway if you read this far ily here's Hobie
BYE.
that's basically how it goes down!
also do y'all even remember finn lmfao
been thinking about @futchbatman tattoo wip , but
Sevika wanting more tattoos but dudes can be so heavy handed for no reason (they think she’s tough enough to handle it, they’re trying to prove something by making a buff lady squirm, the typical misconception about darker skin needing more pressure) and it really fucks with her preexisting skin issues/scars. she gets a recommendation for someone’s who’s pretty well known for her artistry and her care of clients (Mel) and they fall in love the end
jess drew and aya nakamura side by side
ik jessica's design is based on issa rae but come on. this is literally the same woman
EPIC ALBUM COVER #135
Fall Out Boy - Infinity On High
Released: 2007 (Island)
Pop punk, pop rock
ARCANE IS OVER I WANNA CRY!!!
but also have some punkrock Sevika to cheer yall up a bit! It's a lot of sketches, I wanted to clean this a bit more but im too lazy and I need to do smth else.. for now, enjoy!!
babe. I know we’re all going thru a lot rn but I just wanna give u the heads up that sesame streets future is in jeopardy. hbo has chosen not to renew it for new episodes (a series that has been going since 1969) and the residents of 123 Sesame Street no longer have a home :(
Melvika fantasy AU is live on ao3! I will at some point this weekend bring it here, so I can post the images that were my inspo :) Short but sweet enjoyyyy <3
https://archiveofourown.org/works/62472376
I want to start this post by gushing about Shoola’s a design, a Black woman adorned in gold and red, from her clothes to her accessories, to show off she is the that she is one of the richest and most powerful in Piltover, a city already teeming with rich aristocrats and politicians. Speaking of accessories, Shoola’s mechanical neck ruffle is absolutely brilliant a great symbol of Piltover’s status as a steampunk state with her golden eye mask in S2 a cool addition that I must admit I much prefer over the ruffles. Oh, and her finger rings are absolutely gorgeous I love the sound they make when she taps her fingers on the table.
Now on to her character. Shoola is a politician and a member of the ruling Piltover council so her hands aren’t exactly clean, in fact she is one of the people Jayce is shaking hands in the montage of him embracing the political game. But Shoola is one of the more moral council members and the one who advocates for diplomacy and peace with Mel.
She voiced concern for the potential loss of income people would face from the shutdown of the shipping lanes, initially protested Heimerdinger’s forced retirement, and pointed out to the rest of the council they have lost touch forgetting that while the people of the Undercity were not their preferred constituents they were still their people.
The last line hits hard because it contrast the other councilors like Bolbok suggesting a hex weapon to use against them or Cassandra stating the Undercity is impossible to control, all of which is within earshot of Viktor, a man who came from the Undercity.
Shoola advocates for the capture of Jinx after she bombed the council but that’s it. She and Mel opposes the plan to fully invade Zaun in retaliation for the mural attack. Shoola was the only Piltovan who listened to Jayce’s speech and choose to stay and work with Mel to protect Piltover from Ambessa and Viktor.
Finally, there is the implication Shoola is the only one who has Sevika’s back in the new ruling council. She and Sevika lit together the funeral papers and Shoola was the only one who didn’t give Sevika a dirty look when she took her seat and turned her eyes instead at the new councilors who did. Shoola’s personality and previous actions lend weight to her implied relationship or solidarity with Sevika.
In conclusion, Shoola might be a supporting character but she is underrated in the fandom. She is empathetic and gorgeous character and is one of the only few characters from Piltover who never wavered from their principles.