Need Me Some Of Him Omfg Pleaseee - Blog Posts

nanami doesn’t argue.

that would imply there’s a debate to be had. there isn’t. you’re wrong, and he’s right, end of story.

except right now you’re standing over him, arms crossed over your chest, smirking, and somehow — he’s the one apologizing. on his knees, too.

his fingers skim the inside of your wrist to the faint lines of your palm, thumb gliding over the crease of your fingers. tracing a slow, thoughtless pattern like he’s waiting for you to say something.

he exhales, sharp. “love, what exactly am I doing?”

“apologizing,” you bend closer. barely an inch, but enough that the air between you feels warmer, “..because you feel bad?”

his fingers tighten — just a little — before they smooth over again, sliding down to the ends of yours, holding on like he’s considering it. “I don’t.”

you raise a brow, irritated now. “no?”

he sighs, long-suffering, but doesn’t let go. if anything, his grip shifts, trailing down until he’s holding onto the end of your sleeve instead, brushing over your knuckles, still here, despite how tired he looks.

you press, voice softening, teasing though expectant. “do you feel bad at all?”

there’s barely a second joining the words and the way he moves — your back meets the kitchen counter with his hand around your waist, breath against your lips when he murmurs, “I do.”

his fingers slipping under your shirt at your hip as he exhales, words slipping out on your mouth:

“I’m,” kiss. “so-” kiss. “so.” kiss. “sorry,” kiss. “baby.”

you laugh into it, fingers curling into his sweater, breathless in a way you’re sure he notices. he pulls back to see the look on your face — the one that means you know you’ve won.

and for once, nanami doesn’t argue.