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#you're all just so kind for just dealing with it
ao3commentoftheday · 2 days
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Hi! I have a writing related question. I have a major problem finishing things, specifically the second half or last third. I'm a pantser, and have tried planning to help fix the issue, but it's just...not my style. I plan and it all changes anyway. This problem has been going on for a long time and by now I'm fairly sure the culprit is psychological/lack of confidence. I know logically this is a common occurrence and I likely just need to push through, but I simply can't do it, most of the time even with shorter works (I then feel worse about myself as a writer, which makes the problem worse, etc). I guess what I'm asking is, if you or anyone has been in this situation, and some general tips or words of wisdom lol. I know the issues, but still can't seem to fix it. It's affecting my ability to write and now I can't even start stories like I used to either. It's making me miserable. I love writing and want to have it "click" again; right now I just feel sort of broken, creatively speaking.
I'm not very fandom social but I do read this blog all the time, it's a gift. So helpful on so many different topics, and I felt comfortable finally reaching out here ♥️ Thank you for everything you do here
I think you know part of the issue. You know that you can't finish works and you know that planning doesn't help you. You think there might be a lack of confidence, but you don't seem all that certain about it.
I think you should dig in a bit more and see what the actual culprit is.
Are you worried that your writing is bad and will be poorly received?
Are you worried your story is too niche and no one will read it?
Are you worried that the things you write might lead to harassment or bullying of some kind?
What you'll notice about all of those things is that the worry is about how other people will react to what you've written. That's something that's completely out of your control.
To get back to the joy of writing, try writing something just for yourself, with no intention of posting it. See if that helps you get to the end. Often people who have issues with perfectionism or shame or anxiety will put off finishing projects because they want to avoid the judgement that comes after something is finished. If it's never done, no one will tell you that you did a bad job.
If you're like me, then planning is the opposite of helpful because as soon as the plan is in place, it feels like the story is already written. Instead, try working with a plotline that has lots of different ways that it can go. Make it into a kind of "choose your own adventure" but for you, the writer. As you get to each stage in the story, leave choices open so that you can go left or go right - but you can also go up or down or swing in a circle.
Refocus on the parts of writing that feel more like play than like work and do more of that. Reconnect with the joy of it. Then, when you actually like it again, you can figure out whether you actually still want to post your works and how you can deal with your worries then.
*hugs* it's a rough spot right now, anon, but I think you'll get through it. Let's see what advice the rest of the blog has to give.
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i-yap · 3 days
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Wait I live Professor Jason. What about prof. Jason that is dating a reader who is a pre-school teacher? Kinda like Ms.Honey from Matilda
i will die before giving up on prof jason. Also Ms honey is like perfect for jason?? Why am I just realizing this
Prof!Jason x preschool teacher!y/n
His dream girl?? hello? I am lirerally crying from how perfect you guys would be together .
I love the idea of you guys meeting when he was still a vigilante and you being patient and kind with him, giving him a warm safe environment to heal. Show him how the "other half" lives.
Plus as a pre school teacher you have plenty experience dealing with difficult people who don't really understand the world and have a warped sense of what is happening around them but what they truly need is unconditional positive regard, warmth, empathy and attention with a little bit of strong tough loving guidance .
Too sweet by hozier? that's like your theme song ngl. You're so kind and beautiful and you are one of the few good people out there who understand how important it is to be nice to kids and treat them with respect too. You are dedicated to your students wellbeing and all your students just love you so much. Its adorable and he is just like..."I wanna have 12 kids with you"
You are the reason he retires, becomes a professor at a nearby university and pursues his true passion- literature
He is so much happier now, less bruises less scars less guns and less burden on his already broken morality.
Also hanging out with you students , the kids love him. Like out of all batboys the kids love jason the most. He is raw and honest and a bit of a kid on the inside himself. He isn't holding back, he isn't babytalking, he isn't treating kids like they're dumb
I can also see you adopting a kid..matilda like? Like the students come to you when they have an abusive household or are being bullied. Or if they are special cases. And if there is nothing you can do legally , jason just goes up to the parents to have a good talking to. If a kid is put in the foster home situation ...you guys just sort of take the kid in. Jason knows what its like to be in the foster system and then out on the streets. He knows what it feels like and has a soft spot so yea. also like adopting abused animals
Sitting together to just grade papers together, exchanging student stories, going out finding books to put on jason's reading list , giving generous donations to public schools and making sure the money goes for the right things. Just a really nice domestic life filled with love warmth and joy. This is exactly what I want for jason. Like I desperately want this for him, he deserves joy and healing and this is like the dream life for him. He wouldn't change anything and thanks everything that lead to this moment because he cant believe all this is even real.
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bellsmess · 3 days
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Whenever someone calls Charles Rowland straight, an angel dies.
What straight guy tells his best friend who just confessed to him that there's no one else – no one – he would go to Hell for. And that they have forever to figure out what that means. You don’t get his repressed bisexuality like I do!
Even modern bisexuals (I may or may not be speaking from personal experience) are oblivious to the fact they're bi because heteronormative roles are so engraved in our minds. When you're attracted to other genders, it's easy to miss a same-sex crush, only then to realise that oh, it wasn’t just admiration, it was attraction.
Charles, having grown up at the height of the AIDS crisis, with an abusive and probably homophobic father, killed by racist bullies? That would make anyone repress any gay feelings. Especially if you experience crushes on people with a different sex to you.
Charles sees Crystal and takes his chance. He's enamoured with this smart, strong-willed, pretty girl who can see him not only in a physical sense, but pays attention to him. He longs to be loved. Then he says the infamous "That sounds alot like you, doesn't it? Maybe that's why I like her so much" line. What an icon. And he compares himself and his best friend to the greatest love story of all time, Orpheus and Euridyce's.
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When Edwin confesses to him, he doesn't rule out the possibility of returning these feelings. He knows they're already devoted to each other. They've already had 30 years of companionship and solving cases together.
"As long as I have my best mate and a case to solve, I'm good."
Being with Edwin is simple. They solve cases, help others, run away from Death. It's a simple existance. Charles gave up eternity to be with Edwin, because he was kind to him when he was dying. Charles finds him fun, wants to protect him, knows that Edwin is a kind and good person. One that Charles wants to be.
"Bad guys don't worry about being bad guys. And you, Charles Rowland, are the best person I know."
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Crystal's role is very important in changing the dynamic between Edwin and Charles. Not only because Charles falls for her, but because she opens them up. She digs out their repressed feelings and trauma. Charles finally deals with his dad's abuse, his happy-go-lucky mask falls. She points it out to Edwin. Charles kept it up so well because Edwin didn't press it, but Crystal does. And Charles finally lets himself process what happened to him, and how that affects his relationships.
Charles never saw genuine love between his parents, and that affects how he views relationships. It impacts how he forms them, too. But he's a loverboy, he longs to be loved, he falls easily. Why wouldn’t he fall for someone who stuck to his side for 30 years?
Crystal and Monty's roles mirror each other – they help the boys figure out their feelings and desires. Crystal makes Edwin jealous that there's someone else Charles cares about in the same sense he cares for Edwin. The Cat King helps Edwin discover desire, Monty – genuine love. As Charles' and Crystal's relationship kickstarts (albeit ends as quickly) and Monty persues Edwin, he discovers the depth of his feelings.
"These complicated feelings that you have? They're for Charles."
I would love to see their wants explored more in the future season(s, hopefully multiple). Charles giving into desire with Desire of the Endless' guidance? Yes please.
I simply cannot believe that anyone would doubt Painland/Payneland endgame. They're everything to each other. They're a constant presence, reassurance, and love. Platonic, romantic, it doesn't matter. Their bond is so deep and genuine that immortal beings see it and leave them be, in the afterlife they chose for each other. Their love is so deep it transcends planes: from mortal plane to Hell, it leads Charles to Edwin. Charles is not Orpheus, when he turns around to hear Edwin out on the staircase from Hell, he manages to get him out. And they have literally forever for each other.
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dollypopup · 10 hours
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"Then what good am I to you?"
have y'all ever considered that, yes, whilst Penelope has loved him for a very long time. . .she has not shown that to him? that she has not made it clear to him in any way? already, all he feels he is good for is providing because of how he grew up, a chronic middle child vying for attention, receiving positivity when he brings levity or cracks a joke or brings a gift or demonstrates a kindness? that the people pleaser in him feels he has to provide a dance or a laugh or ease or even just stepping to the side so he isn't a bother? have y'all considered that he was straight up ghosted for months? so when he *could not* provide anything, he was cast aside and forgotten? even by her?
have y'all considered that Colin has the idea that if he is not doing something for someone, they have no use for him, and so must be shown that is not true? that he feels he doesn't deserve forgiveness or time unless he has something of worth to offer as leverage for it? that all of the ways Penelope has cared for him have been from afar?
Penelope needed to know that Colin loves her, so he chases down her carriage. So he professes his feelings on his knees. So he strips her bare in front of a mirror to show her- see what I see, you're beautiful. So he informs her own MOTHER that he loves her and she can't talk smack about his future wife. He has so many big gestures for her to make her understand he's serious about her, and that she matters to him for who she is, no strings attached. He apologizes for hurting her feelings after she tells him off, he offers her his help in building her confidence, he helps her family in Season 2, expecting nothing in return, and even in Season 1, he professes how good she is.
But from his perspective. . .he did not even KNOW Penelope had feelings for him when he raced off after her to beg her not to marry someone else. As far as he knew, she considered them friends, and even under the willow, she told him distance would be best after they kissed. She didn't reply to his letters on his travels. She showed him that their intimacy didn't affect her the way it affected him because she continued to pursue a different engagement. She had even said their kiss wouldn't mean anything and when he says he cannot stop thinking of it, she does not assure that it meant a great deal to her, too. She informs that she wants to be more than friends, but nothing else. What is he meant to think? Even if she says she has loved him for a long time, he's been told before that someone loves him. . .and then it ended up not being true.
Penelope has waited for years, since she first met him, to love him in the light, and she has an opportunity in Part 2 to do so. To show Colin that she loves him: assuredly, fervently, loudly.
And I, for one, cannot fucking WAIT to see it.
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dstryvampres · 3 days
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Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy
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Paring: Neil Lewis x Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: smut, you have a cowboy kink :3
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“What do you think?” Neil says, strutting down the narrow hallway out of his office.
Looking up from the magazine you were mind-numbingly immersed in, mostly due to the weird jingling coming from where Neil was coming from, you were greeted with an oddly pleasant view. Neil, uncharacteristically, dressed up as a cowboy. Black cowboy hat, a pair of black loose fitting jeans to match, a light denim button up shirt tucked into his pants with a couple buttons undone at the top, a black bandana tied around his neck, and cowboy boots that edged on godawful. Somehow Neil’s outfit of the week wasn’t that bad, it was kind of attractive…
“Hello? Anyone in there,” Neil waves his hand infront of your face, you try to grab his wrist but he snatches his hand away before you can get a full grasp. “So?”
“I think it’s better than last Saturday’s Dracula costume, that’s for sure,” trying to sound as uninterested as you possibly can despite the fact that you were undeniably very into the cowboy thing.
“Oh, come on. I had you speechless for a good minute there,” Neil points out, before mimicking a one-man gun fight.
“It’s fine,” is all you give him.
Neil sighs dramatically and pouts. Walking over to the couch infront of the TV and flopping down onto it, his melodrama is almost good enough to make you pity him, but he’s pulled this trick one too many times for it to do the full damage he intended. Soon enough you're trying your best to flip through the magazine in your hands. Unlike last time, you can’t seem to find it as interesting as it was before you saw Neil. The cowboy outfit fit him a little too well. Amount of undone buttons showed off his collarbones so well, hat fit weirdly well ontop of his head, and his pants hugged his ass in a way that made you drool. Maybe your boss dressing up as a cowboy was a new awakening for you. God you really hope not.
“Welcome to Gumshoe!” Neil welcomes the customer, springing off the couch and fixing his hat, “We have a special deal on Westerns this week, if you want to look into that just let me or my lovely employee at the counter know.”
You smile at the customer, before your eyes start to drift over to Neil. How you were going to last a full day working here while he looked like that, you didn’t know. As he blabbed to the customer about whatever movie they could be looking for, you willed yourself to look anywhere else, to do anything else besides stare weirdly at your boss and give yourself a girl boner over his outfit. There’s always returns you can sort through and late calls you can make, is what you settle on.
Pulling out the box from under the counter you start to sort through the returns of the past couple of days absentmindedly. Despite trying your hardest not to stare at your boss and focus on your task, you can’t help it. As he stanters around the shop in those stupid black jeans, fixes the buttons on his shirt, even daring to pop another button open, you can feel the wetness in your pants increase by the minute. It’s embarrassing. You move over to the back corner to start storing the movies, hoping this new perspective with a noticeable lack of view of your employer will help calm you down, but it does nothing. Possibly making it worse, this lack of seeing the real Neil makes your imagination kick in. Oh, what he could do for you. Legs over his shoulders. Is he soft or rough? What would he say during it? Is it just the costume or has he always looked this good? There’s a tap on your shoulder and you whip your head around.
It’s Neil.
“Can you check out the customer? I’ll take this over, don’t worry.” A blush spreads over your cheeks, and you can only seem to nod offering a weak, guilty smile to him. Standing up on shaky legs you make your way over to the register trying to make as little contact with Neil as possible. Knowing that if you touch him you will moan.
Your face feels hot, likely flushed, so you check out the customer as fast as you can. Plan foiled by their lack of a loyalty card. Soon enough they are out the door and gone, but you could’ve sworn you input their address wrong.
“Is the A/C not working?” Neil had sneaked up on you, grasping your shoulder. You jump, causing him to let out a small laugh.
“Uh- Yeah, I think so? Why are you asking?”
You knew why he was asking, you were sweating profusely and were red in the face. Even leaving a sweaty hand mark on the register, and possibly the DVD the customer rented out. All fueled by the simple cowboy costume worn by the man behind you. Curse ‘Western week’ at Gumshoe Videos, and curse Neil and his need to dress up for every event the store held, no matter how miniscule. 
“You’re just very sweaty and red. Is there any other reason? Possibly got the hots for anyone,” Neil teased, poking your shoulder.
To anyone other than you, it would’ve been quite obvious that he wasn’t referring to himself and was, instead, referring to the customer who just left. After all, most of your more noticeable nerves showed up after their arrival. But your nerves paired with just how close Neil was to you lead to the disastrous reply.
“No! Of course not! And it’s definitely not you either.” Followed by nervous choppy laughter.
“What?” 
Neil was not laughing.
“I have to go stock shelves.”
Neil stands there for a couple seconds before following behind you, despite how you desperately try to lose him. The shop is small and cramped, losing anyone in here is close to impossible. Just getting down to work is the best option right now, you plop down beside a box full of DVDs and try to ignore your boss.
“Look. I’m not offended or thrown off by what you said, but are you serious?”
You look up at Neil, guilt and embarrassment coating your face.
“You are! What is it? My charms? My humour? My looks?”
You go back to stocking DVDs.
“Is it the cowboy outfit?”
You look back up in absolute horror. He’s grinning at this realisation, both amusement and disbelief smeared all over his cocky smile. 
“Well how would you like to ride a real cowboy?” Neil asks, he’s putting on a horrible southern accent that’s somehow made the outfit so much more attractive.
You stand up and crash your lips together. The kiss catches Neil off guard, stumbling back a step or two before he’s reciprocating at the same force as you. Getting eager you pull at the hair on his nape. He moans into your mouth. God it’s better than you thought it would sound. God, do you want to ride this cowboy.
“Hey,” Neil breaks away, breathing heavily, “Can we, uh, can we take this back to my office?”
You nod, basically pushing Neil back to his own office. Both of you are giggling the whole way there. Normally being so giddy over something like this would make you sick, but you’re hot and have a growing tingling in your lower stomach urging you onwards. Once the door is closed to his office your lips are back on his, hand tangling into his hair. Stumbling forwards into him until you hit his desk. His hands find your hips and he groans. Lips now start to kiss your neck. Kisses sloppy and open mouthed, bordering on bites. You’re so high on excitement about this it’s making you dizzy. Never have you ever thought that you would be so excited to sleep with your boss. What a uniform can do to a man is criminal.
Neil’s hands slowly move from your hips to your breasts. Squeezing them lightly once before groping harshly. Looking down you make eye contact with him, his eyes are so round and soft, pupils blown out wide, basically pleading to let him take off your shirt.
“Go ahead,” You sigh out, he’s rubbing your nipples through your shirt.
Quickly his hands move down to the hem of your shirt, and it’s off you and on the floor. Neil starts to move his kisses down to your collar bones and breasts. Groaning the whole way down, acting like he’s never been with anyone as beautiful as you. Truthfully, it’s unlikely that he has.
His hands unclasp your bra, sliding it down your arms and exposing your boobs. Nipples hard from the cold and from the excitement of this whole ordeal. You place your hands on Neil’s jaw dragging him back up into a kiss. It’s sloppy, his spit is all over your top lip. If this was anyone else it would’ve disgusted you, but, again, something about the whole cowboy costume made it so much hotter.
“God, you’re so hot,” Neil pants into your mouth, tweaking at your nipples. You moan in response.
He’s leading you over to the couch in his office. Pushing you onto the couch, you watch him completely unbutton his slutty denim shirt before joining you. Lips crashing into yours in the same frenzy as before. Your hands come to the waistband of his pants. Desperately trying to undo his buckle. You get it undone, and as a reward Neil undoes his pants. You feel his bulge press into your hip as you continue. You stroke him through his underwear, causing him to whimper, breaking away from the kiss and squeezing his eyes shut.
“Don’t do that baby, I’ll cum, please,” Neil begs. You giggle in response, but are immediately cut off when he latches his lips around your nipple. Flicking his tongue over your nipple. Fuck. You cup his cheek.
“Neil, take off my fucking pants already,” You hiss out.
He detaches his lips from your nipple, focusing instead on sliding your jeans off of your hips. You desperately want to shy away from Neil’s gaze when he starts to feel the wet patch on your underwear that is growing by the second, but it’s hard when he’s sitting between your legs. He shoves your panties down your legs and onto the floor.
Neil looks into your eyes as he traces the line of your cunt, playing with your clit, then shoving a finger into your cunt. You immediately moan out at the intrusion, earning you a smile from Neil.
“You’re so wet, baby,” he teases.
He adds in a second finger and your eyebrows furrow. His fingers are thick. Stretching you out so nice. Finding a steady pace Neil pushes his finger in and out of your cunt, eagerly watching as your cunt easily takes in his fingers. You grip at his hair, pulling him back into a kiss. Moaning into his mouth as he fucks you with his finger, consistently brushing against your sensitive spot. 
Neil removes his fingers from your cunt, wiping them off on the couch. He makes quick work of his boxer’s pulling them down and discarding them in the pile of clothes already on the floor. He lines his cock up with your cunt and slides into you, both of you groaning at the sensation. Neil stays still for a little bit, getting adjusted to how you feel.
“Fuck you’re so tight, and so warm, and wet. You’re so nice,” Neil babbles, placing his hands on your hips.
Slowly he starts rocking back and forth into you, letting out breathy moans the whole way through. 
“You can speed up,” You tell Neil, holding onto his bicep for support.
His hips start to speed up, until the sound of skin slapping against skin and the wet sounds of your cunt echo throughout the room. Neil keeps babbling out praises, ‘so good baby’s and ‘you’re so hot’s breaking the previously mentioned sounds, along with moaning from the both of you. Neil was a surprisingly good fuck. His cock was angled perfectly into your cunt, allowing him to hit deep into your cunt each time in a way that made you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back.
“Do you- fuck- do you want to ride this cowboy?” Neil asks through pants, you look up at him. A mix of amusement and horniness coats your brain.
“Yes.” Is all it takes for Neil to slip out of you and bring you on top of him, then line up his cock with your entrance once again and slip it in.
You bounce up and down on him, aided by both his hips bucking into yours and his hands on your hips.
“You’re so good at this, holy,” Neil says, before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the bud, you yelp out.
You can feel the coil in your stomach tighten, gripping tightly on Neil’s shoulders for stability. The mix of Neil’s cock pumping in and out of you and his tongue playing with your nipples was driving you insane.
“Neil, I’m gonna cum.”
“Cum for me, all over my cock, baby.”
You reach one of your hands down from Neil’s shoulders to your clit. Rubbing your clit in quick small circles as Neil watches you with hungry eyes. 
It all comes crashing into you at once as you chant ‘cumming’ as you slump into Neil’s shoulder. He follows quickly after you. Both of you stay still for a little bit, trying to recuperate from everything. Neil rubs small circles into your lower back before you slide off of his cock. 
“Thank you,” you mumble, not being able to look at Neil after that.
“Here,” Neil says, handing you your underwear.
You both get dressed in silence, before both exiting Neil’s office.
“You can go home early today if you want,” Neil coughs out.
You end up going home early after all, walking back to your car on shaky legs and being left to think about the events of today at your apartment.
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cntloup · 17 hours
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medieval au
periods :'(
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6
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as simon had promised before, he never forced himself on you. and you know he's not that kind of man.
you’ve felt forced and used your whole life. but with him, it feels like you can finally breathe. he makes you feel safe, and free.
but now, he can sense the heavy tension between you. he knows you're not that close, at least not yet. but he thought that you'd feel more comfortable as time went by. now he feels disappointed that it's not the case at all as you drift away from him more and more each day.
yes, you've been distant the past few days. and it all started suddenly, making him think he did something wrong which in return, makes you feel horrible as you beat yourself up over it.
but you have to do this. he doesn't have to deal with your issues right now. as if a curse has been cast upon you since you were born, because you're a woman.
that's what you were taught anyway which you always considered unfair, even cruel.
you're now curled up in your bed as waves of painful cramps thrash through your body, making you curse everyone and everything, the gods and all that for making you go through this every month.
you put a hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs of pain and you scream into the pillow when it gets unbearable.
that's when he enters the room with a worried expression etched on his face, eyebrows furrowed in concern since you haven't gone out of bed all day.
he finds you curled into yourself, eyes squeezed shut and you're too lost in the excruciating pain that you don't notice his presence until he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder as the bed dips with his weight on it.
"what's wrong, love?" he asks softly, "nothing! please just go!" you burst out, voice coming out whiny due to the pain coursing through your abdomen as you clench it tighter.
you almost feel ashamed. it's a curse. a shameful curse that you must endure all your life. you're being punished. but for what sin? being a woman?!
the thoughts run around your mind until you decide to cast them away. it's all stupid nonsense you've been fed since you were a child.
you lift your head to face him and his gaze softens the moment he sets eyes on your glossy eyes and pouty lips.
"tell me, love. please. i need to know." he says, gently wiping away a stray tear on your cheek.
'he's my husband for god's sake! he should know what the hell i'm going through!' you think to yourself.
"it's just my monthly bleeding." you mutter quietly, lips wobbling slightly.
"oh..." he pauses, nearly taken aback. he's heard some vague stuff about it, but of course, he doesn't know fully well what's going on.
"is there something i can do for you?" he asks, feeling helpless and deeply worried.
"i... it really hurts." you whine and he makes his way to lay behind you and takes you into his embrace, strong burly arms wrapped around your body.
"tell me where it hurts, love." he whispers in your ear, making you shiver, the low timbre of his voice sending a wave of heat right to your core.
you take his hand and guide him to your lower belly, "here." you say, pressing on the back of his hand and he starts to tenderly massage the area as his lips find your neck, softly trailing kisses on your skin and moving to your shoulder.
the delightful feeling of his large rough hand caressing your sensitive body and his light kisses on your skin make you floaty and hazy.
"better, love?" he asks after some time, lifting his head to look at you and noticing your droopy eyes which makes him chuckle.
"hmm... much better." you hum lowly in contentment since your pain has subsided and it feels so good to be in his arms, so warm and safe.
"get some rest, love. i'll be right here when you wake up." he murmurs and places one last kiss on your neck as your eyelids slowly drape over and you drift into a slumber.
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rubberbandgirlme · 2 days
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so. i've replayed the demo once more, and this scene baffled me at first, his indifference and displeased face like?? hello??? what happened to our knight in shining armour?? and then i realized it's one of the very few moments he lets himself be real.
it's clear that leander doesn't like getting involved when he might look bad to one of the parties, so this is such an honest and raw reaction when he has to act, when he has to choose between the loyalty of his followers and the potential gain of doing 'business' with mc, and he hates it. also the way he slides back into his good guy mode in the last sprite is just so tasteful 🤌
i think he chooses to take mc's side not because he likes them so very much, but because it's the path of least resistance: bloodhounds are most likely to stay loyal anyway, someone mentioning the senobium is obviousy not a big deal — well, not big enough to go into a fight with your leader, — and the bandaged hands, on the other hand (what a lame pun!!!!!!! sry), are a very promising tidbit (remember that information is currency). like i'm sure leander guessed there was something wrong with mc from the start, just didn't know the details. btw mc noticed his act — the practiced speech of help offering and his suspicion about mc needing a magical solution.
also i'd like to pinpoint that he's the only one eliciting that vital piece of information from mc to potentially gain leverage. it's not like we as players have any choice here but hear me out: even ais and vere (!!!) are showing some kind of respect regarding mc's hands. ais stops mc before they undo their bandages and vere is 'careful not to disturb them' when grabbing mc's arm. did leander reaalllyyyyyyy have to go that far (also if mc hesistates to touch him, he will grab their hand himself :DDD)??? he wants to make sure you need to trust him and him only like dude. i'm still not over the piece of a dialogue below i mean how can he be so honest and manipulative all at once?!?????
"you were right to hide this from me (but now i know). that curse of yours... it's unlike anything i've ever dealt with (i can't help you). i can tell you're discreet (praising) but you'd best not go showing that off to anyone else (so that only i know your secret)"
and the most fascinating thing? i don't think he's a genius mastermind or anything of sorts, he just gets people, operates on an intuitional level, it comes to him naturally, and most of the times he believes that he's doing good.
tl;dr leander is one of the most interesting characters i've ever come upon and it's captivating to see him slip out and back into his goody two-shoes persona and i hope we'll get more moments when he's raw and real soon 👀
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itsgreti · 2 days
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UNSPOKEN FEELINGS
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pairing. james beaufort x f!reader
summary. james realizes he has deeper feelings for lydia's best friend.
warning. slight cursing, mentions of cheating
word count. 1.4k
a/n: i just watched maxton hall and felt the urge to write a quick fic. english is my second language, so if you find any mistakes, don't hesitate and text me! (divider is made by rookthornesartistry)
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The prestigious campus of Maxton Hall Boarding School was a world itself, where the rich teenage life unfolded in all its complexity. Among its many students were James Beaufort, the charming and popular heartthrob, and his twin sister Lydia, known for her big mouth, but besides that, intelligence. (Y/N) was Lydia's best friend since they were toddlers, and because of that she often finds herself in the company of the Beauforts. Despite this, (Y/N) felt like a shadow, always in the background and unnoticed by James. His attractive presence draws attention, as he walks around the hallway, towering over others, always surrounded by admirers. Like everyone in the school, (Y/N) also had a crush on him, but she knew she would always be only his little sister’s friend. And she had long accepted that.
The (Y/L/N) family is famous internationally, because of their luxurious, high-quality dresses. They often collaborate with the market-leading fashion brand, Young Beaufort. But (Y/N) usually wished for just a simple way of life, without fame. All the children, who inherit their family’s legacy, are burdened by the weight of expectations and pressure.
To make things worse, it was a chilly afternoon when (Y/N)'s world shattered. She had been dating a boy from another school, a relationship that seemed promising but ended in betrayal and heartbreak. The boy had just played with her, and thrown away her without a second thought. (Y/N) was devastated and hurt.
Lydia was away on a school trip, leaving (Y/N) with her emotions alone. She wandered the campus aimlessly, eventually finding an isolated bench near the gardens, where she let the tears flow freely.
Unaware of (Y/N), James had noticed her distressed state from afar. He had been passing by when he saw her sitting alone, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Concerned, he approached quietly, unsure of how to begin.
"(Y/N)," he said softly, startling them. "Are you okay?"
(Y/N) quickly wiped her tears, attempting to make herself presentable. "Oh, James. I'm fine. Just... having a rough day."
James sat down beside her, his expression gentle but insistent. "You don't look fine. What happened?"
The unexpected kindness in his voice broke through (Y/N)'s defences. She looked at him, eyes filled with pain, and sighed. "It's just... this guy I was dating. He turned out to be a jerk. He used me and then just... dumped me."
James's jaw tightened, a flash of anger in his eyes. "Who is he?"
"It doesn’t matter. He’s not from Maxton Hall." (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders.
When James heard the pain in her voice, he decided to deal with her now, and it will be enough later to get to know about that asshole. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). You didn't deserve that."
(Y/N) shook her head, feeling small and insignificant. "I should have seen it coming. I'm not exactly someone would notice."
James frowned, shifting closer. "That's not true. People notice you, (Y/N). I notice you."
(Y/N) looked at him in surprise. "You... notice me?" she said with irony.
James was confused, but nodded, his gaze sincere. "Of course I do." (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat hearing those words. "You're important to Lydia, which makes you important to me. And beyond that, you're a great person. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life."
The warmth in his words and the intensity of his gaze made (Y/N) feel a flicker of hope. She had always seen James as someone out of reach, but here he was, sitting beside her, offering comfort and understanding.
"Thank you, James," she whispered, feeling the weight of her sadness begins to lift. "It means a lot."
James smiled softly, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze hers. "I do care about you, (Y/N). And if that guy couldn't see how amazing you are, then he's the one who's missing out."
For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the cold air around them a sharp contrast to the warmth blossoming in (Y/N)'s heart. James's presence was a balm to their wounded soul, a reminder that she was not alone.
"Do you want to talk more about it?" James asked, his voice gentle. "Or maybe we can just sit here for a while. Whatever you need."
(Y/N) smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude and a newfound connection. "Sitting here is nice. Thank you, James," she said feeling his arms pull her into a hug.
As they sat together, (Y/N) realized that maybe, just maybe, she had been wrong about James’s emotions towards her. Perhaps he had been seeing her all along, and in this moment of weakness, she had realised that her feelings for her had not changed over the years.
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The weeks following that emotional afternoon saw a gradual but significant shift in the dynamics between James and (Y/N). Where once their interactions were only about polite nods and casual greetings, now there were shared moments, conversations, and a growing sense of friendship.
James found himself looking forward to seeing (Y/N) more than he ever anticipated. Her presence was comforting, her laughter infectious, and her perspectives refreshing. He was drawn to (Y/N) in a way that was new and unexpected, and it unsettled him in the best possible way. He finally had to admit that he had lied to himself all the years when he said he didn’t care about (Y/N).
(Y/N) felt the change too. She was still close to Lydia, but now James seemed to seek her out independently. He'd join them for lunch, walk with them between classes, and even invite them to hang out with his friends, to where (Y/N) always refused to go and eventually Lydia accepted it. It was confusing but exhilarating.
One evening, while Lydia was busy with her extracurricular activities, James invited (Y/N) to study with him at a cosy coffee shop off-campus. They settled into a quiet corner, books and notebooks spread out before them.
"You know," James said, looking up from his notes, "I never realized how much fun studying could be until I started doing it with you."
(Y/N) laughed softly, their cheeks flushing. "I have never thought that once in my lifetime I will hear that from the mouth of James Beaufort, but I think you just enjoy the coffee and the company."
James smiled, but there was a depth to his gaze that made (Y/N) look away shyly. "You're right about that. But it's more than that. You're different, (Y/N). In a good way. You make everything better."
(Y/N) felt her heart skip a beat. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable. "Thanks. Spending time with you isn't that bad either."
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As the weeks went on, James's feelings for (Y/N) deepened. He found himself thinking about her at odd times, daydreaming about their future conversations, and feeling jealous when he saw her with others. It was during one of these moments when he saw (Y/N) laughing with Cyril, that he realized the truth: he had fallen for (Y/N).
The next day, James asked (Y/N) to meet him in the gardens where they had first bonded. The air was cool, the sky painted with the hues of sunset.
"(Y/N)," James began, taking a deep breath. "There's something I need to tell you."
(Y/N) looked at him, concern flickering in their eyes. "What is it?"
"I've been thinking a lot, and I realized something important," he continued, his voice steady but his heart racing. "That day when you sat with me here, something changed for me. Spending time with you, getting to know you better... I've come to realize that I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings."
(Y/N) stared at him, her breath catching in their throat. "James, I... I-"
James stepped closer, his eyes locked on her. "You don't have to say anything right now. I just needed you to know how I feel. Whatever you decide, our friendship means a lot to me, and I don't want to lose that."
Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes, but they were tears of happiness and relief. "James, I feel the same way. I've liked you for a long time, but I never thought you'd feel the same."
James's face broke into a radiant smile, and he reached out to gently hold (Y/N)'s face in his hands. With that, James leaned in, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, a perfect blend of nervous excitement and genuine affection.
As they pulled away, both of them breathless and smiling, James whispered, "I've wanted to do that for so long."
(Y/N) smiled back, her eyes shining with happiness. "Me too."
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elaofarc · 2 days
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oh-honey-moon | NANAMI K.
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝⭒ content; —mdni. husband!nanami. honeymoon shenanigans. face sıttıng. pūssy eating. spıttıng and slappıng mentioned only once. f!orgāsm.
๋࣭ ⭑⚝⭒ word count; —4k
๋࣭ ⭑⚝⭒an; —i planned this to be something soft and all about married life, but here i am, providing you with this. this is all i got so please praise me, thanks. ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა
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Nanami's brows furrowed involuntarily, if he was aware of his own expression he'd definitely hide it. His index finger tapping a restless rhythm on his crossed arms while his eyes heavily rest upon your figure, standing on the chair in front of your laptop, he finds all of this even more annoying. Despite his attempt at a distant demeanor, the audible tap of his foot on the carpeted floor betrays his impatience—even though you can't catch the way he stomps the floor, it's still there. It almost seems as if he is unconsciously trying to divert your attention from your work, his looming shadow casting a presence behind you as he hovers over your seated form—if you were aware of him, you'd probably be laughing and finding it endearingly cute how demanding he is. The sense of neglect gnaws at him even though he knows that you're not doing this on purpose, it's a result of your relentless dedication to your work that keeps you apart. This is supposed to be your honeymoon, for goodness' sake, and yet here you are, still engrossed in tasks at one o'clock in the morning even though you can handle them very well when you get back. Nanami grapples with his reluctance to voice his concerns, fearing he might come across as overly needy if he is to express how overlooked he is feeling right now. Leaning in close, he rests his head against your shoulder in silence, his hands sneaking underneath his own shirt that's completely oversized for you, tenderly tracing circles on your stomach as he breathes in your scent deeply, a low, guttural sound escaping his lips. "Bed, love, now," he urges firmly, his voice carrying a blend of longing and insistence as he speaks.
If you knew that you'd have a doting husband, a happy marriage and a shitload of money; maybe you wouldn't think money was the most important thing in life during your teenage years. Money meant everything for you, probably because of how you experienced your parents' stress about not having enough income to get by. So, that's why you chose a job like this. Your job wouldn't recognize holidays or off-days; even though you mainly work from home, you're just constantly on your laptop, phone and tablet.
You know that you promised to never touch any work related thing during your honeymoon, yet, the paycheck is good, and you just can't slack off. When Nanami's big and strong arms sneak up on you, his veiny hand on your stomach under your shirt and his forehead on your shoulder; you softly chuckle without peeling your eyes from the bright screen. "I know, baby," you murmur, fingers typing the words out at an inhumane speed. "I will be in bed, give me a min."
Nanami exhales with a frown, his warm breath fanning your neck. He's upset that you prioritized the laptop instead of him. He places a gentle squeeze on your soft stomach, and his hands slowly slide underneath your loose t-shirt, causing your skin to tingle from the feeling of his warm, large hands.
"It's two in the morning. We both know you've been working your ass off while we were supposed to be enjoying our honeymoon." His voice is hoarse and low.
And he is right and you can't deny it; this is your honeymoon. What kind of an asshole works on their honeymoon? Well, definitely not Nanami, but you sound like you fit the type. With a soft sigh escaping your lips, you give in. Yeah, this work and the deadline are definitely not your problems, especially not now. You can deal with them once you get back from your honeymoon.
So, you gently lean back closer to your husband, feeling the warmth of his touch envelop you as you close your eyes and rest the back of your head against the crook of his neck—right where his shoulder meets the curve of his neck, right where you fit perfectly. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your arms wrapping around Nanami's arms even though his strong hold has already crept under your oversized t-shirt the moment he approached you. "You're right, I'm being an annoying workaholic. I'll deal with it later."
A small smirk appears on Nanami's features as you lean back against him with a murmured apology. He releases a deep purr when you rest your head against his neck where you fit seamlessly. He places a tender kiss on the sensitive part, his large hands gently rubbing your warm stomach.
"Mm," he hums in acknowledgment and presses another kiss on your shoulder. "No need to apologize. I just wish you'd stop treating the job as a priority over your own well-being," he whispers, his chest rising and falling against your back.
One of the thin straps of your top slides down to your shoulder since Nanami shuffles a lot while holding you, embracing you; or more like caging you in between those strong arms. His thick biceps and veiny hands... you would've never expected him to be this muscular underneath those expensive suits. Everytime he kisses you, it has a fuzzy and warm feeling to it; filling you up to the brim with such intense emotions.
You slightly turn your head around to face him, and you're glad that those dark-circles are long gone. He used to be the same workaholic as you, but after starting to date you, he made you his priority. You place a kiss to where you can reach, under his jawline. His warmth and scent make you dizzy as you let out a content sigh. "I'll do better from now on," you murmur, feeling all too pliant enveloped by his embrace. "I love you. Let's get back to bed, hm?"
Nanami's sharp ears catch your response and he releases a deep, satisfied groan at the vow you made. His lips gently touch each side of your shoulder, and then he leans into your touch when you place a kiss along his jawline.
"I know you will," he murmurs back, his tone filled with a warm affection. He presses one final kiss behind your ear before he slowly withdraws, tugging you away from the desk and in the direction of the bed. He gently guides you towards the comfortable sheets, a quiet anticipation present in his eyes.
You leave the big chair placed in front of the big desk in your suite hotel room, tall windows let the most of the light cast upon the vast room. It's really dark outside except for the faint city lights coming from the distance. The bed is placed in the middle as a classic; two bedside drawers on each side of the bed while the sliding door to the balcony is on the left side of the room. The room has everything in it, and you think that you can stay inside this room during your whole stay here.
With your hand getting lost in Nanami's veiny, big hand, you follow him to the bed. His t-shirt looks like it can fit two more of you in it, your hair is messy since you've interrupted your own sleep with your work. The sheets are messy, too, both of you shuffle a lot during your sleep. You immediately plop yourself onto the bed, and Nanami's scent mixed with yours makes you close your eyes and bask in it. God—you truly love him.
"Better?"
Nanami releases a gentle hum as he settles into the plush mattress, wrapping his strong arm around your waist, his thick biceps flexing under your touch. His other arm beneath your head finds a home in your hair, gently stroking and playing with the soft strands. His chest rises and falls underneath you with each breath, and his muscular body radiates a heat that seeps into you. His fingers glide over your skin, drawing invisible patterns on his chest as you do the same to him.
He chuckles softly at your question, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. "Much better," he murmurs, his voice a low and soothing rumble. "You have no idea how good that feels, love."
You feel drowsy, probably due to the warmth that seeps into your body from Nanami. It's already pretty late, too, so it's only natural for your eyelids to feel heavier and heavier as you listen to his deep and raspy voice. Even when he talks in a low tone, his voice shakes you to your core—full of tenderness and love for you. You pull back slightly to look at his face, his sharp features appearing softer than ever under the faint lights coming from the tall windows. You can't help but softly laugh; his eyes are closed but he's not sleeping, you know that. "I bet it feels good," you say, fingertips gently tracing the outline of his face. "What's up with you tonight? You're extremely clingy, I'm surprised."
A small smile creeps onto Nanami's chiseled features as your fingertips gently trace the contours of his face. He opens his eyes and meets your gaze, his expression filled with an intense and burning desire. He shifts his body to face you and captures your hand, intertwining your fingers with his own. His thumb strokes the back of your hand, the touch gentle yet firm. "Am I?" he asks with a hint of amusement. "Perhaps I've been craving your presence," he murmurs, leaning in to steal a tender kiss from your lips.
It's always an intense feeling whenever your eyes meet his, and it'll always be like that, very likely. As if you're not his wife and just a girl who has a crush on him, you always get the need to avert your gaze when his strong gaze catches your eyes. With your eyes that shine like a sky adorned with stars, always reflecting what you feel even without trying—Nanami doesn't have to ask you questions to know what or how you feel, he already knows by staring into your eyes. All of it feels suffocatingly warm and fuzzy after you pull back from the kiss, and you realize this is where you've always wanted to be. "Oh, you definitely are," you murmur, fingers habitually finding their places in his soft hair. "I like this side of you, a lot."
A low sound almost like a groan resonates deep within Nanami's chest as you tangle your fingers through his hair, his eyes closing involuntarily in relaxation at your touch. His muscular frame is pressed close to yours, his heat wrapping around you like a warm, comforting blanket. He nuzzles his face into the nook of your shoulder, his lips pressing gently against the sensitive skin with a tender kiss.
"Good," he murmurs softly, his voice low and husky with affection. "Because I plan on being extra clingy."
The way your bodies act on their own with a magnetic force whenever they touch has always been mind-blowing for you, really. Whenever Nanami wraps his arms around your waist, your body presses against him on its own. Whenever his hand cups your cheek, you nuzzle against his big hand. Whenever his lips find solace in the nook of your sensitive neck, your head drops back to give him more room—almost as if you're completely offering yourself to him.
"Oh?" You murmur softly, eyebrows raising slightly as you can't hold in the chuckle escaping your lips. "How so? You're spoiling me too much, I might get addicted and demand more and more."
A low groan vibrates within Nanami's throat when you tilt your head back, giving him access to your sensitive neck. His lips gently press against your exposed skin, planting languid and wet kisses along the curve of your shoulder, causing chills to ripple down your spine. His palm rests against your cheek, his thumb caressing the smoothness beneath his touch. "You have no idea the things you do to me," he whispers, almost inaudibly. "Well, if you ask me; you deserve to be spoiled like a goddess."
"Besides," he whispers again, his voice husky and seductive, "Is that such a bad thing?" He pauses his affections for a moment and gently nibbles on your earlobe, his warm breath grazing your skin.
"I quite like indulging your every whim."
"Ah," you sweetly whisper back, eyes closing in tranquility as you softly smile. Nanami is always taken aback by your beauty, everytime he sees you it feels like it's his first time seeing you. His heart never fails to flatter in his chest just by seeing you; rather you are reading a book while cozily curled up in a couch, or furrowing in front of your laptop, or embraced in his arms like this, you are always a sight for sore eyes. "The addicting high of being turned into a brat by my very beloved husband," you say, the slightest sly smirk spreading across your face.
"You're a handful," he responds, amusement laced in his voice as he gently tugs on your earlobe with the slightest bit of teeth, his grip on you growing firmer. His large hand gently squeezes your waist, pulling your body even closer to his. Every inch of your body is pressed against his, his heat and weight enveloping your form tightly like fine linen. Nanami continues his ministrations on your neck, his tongue lightly trailing along the column of your throat, his warm, skilled mouth gently nipping at your sensitive skin. His sharp teeth playfully graze you, creating tantalizing sensations that send electricity humming through your body. "How did I fall in love with you? You're driving me insane," he teases, and it only fuels that sly smirk plastered across your beautiful face.
The warmth enveloping you turns into something hotter, even heavier when you feel Nanami's teeth coming in contact with the sensitive skin of your neck. With your eyes closed, you let out a pleased hum—and that's probably all he needs from the very beginning, to be honest. You find yourself straddling his lap, your body being moved with such ease by his strong hands as he places you on top of his own body. You're stimulated by how he feels underneath you; ready to give you everything you ask for and more. Feeling him pressed against you has your head spinning as he slightly gets up from the bed, getting into a sitting position as his lips leave no place on your skin untouched. He explores you as if he never did that before, and you find yourself needily clawing at his back. "Nanami," you breathlessly whimper his name, head thrown back as it gets harder and harder to sit still. His large, talented hands roam your body with a possessive need, his touch leaving trails of heat and desire in its wake. He moves with purpose, gently pinning your hips down onto his clothed lap, preventing your squirming body from escaping his heated touch.
Nanami's breath catches in his throat as your fingers dig into his back, the sound of his name falling from your lips like a sultry melody. He can hear the slight strain in your voice, the need evident in your tone. His own body responds involuntarily, a low groan rippling through him as he presses closer. His heart races, pounding against the confines of his chest, as his lips explore every inch of your body with a mix of passion and reverence. His hands hold you firmly against his body, supporting you as you sit on his lap. But as you claw at his back, trying to get even closer to him, he can feel himself unraveling. Feeling your thighs squeezing, his fingers grip your skin, his breathing grows ragged. "So pretty," he groans against your neck. "You sound so pretty, love."
Nanami's mouth trails a path down to your collarbone, his kisses alternating between gentle and possessive. With hungry need, he worships every inch of your skin like a hopeless devotee. He revels in your reaction—the way your back arches and your voice trembles. His breath is hot and heavy against your skin. "Hm?" comes his low, gravelly voice, a sound full of desire. "You like it, don't you?" he asks, his hands gently lifting your shirt up. Your bodies practically molding together, you feel yourself suddenly growing needy, desperate to be touched and explored even more. The hungry kisses and determined bites to your skin feel like they don't do enough justice to your burning body—you relish in the way his big hands sneak under the oversized t-shirt you stole from him, causing the hair on your nape to stand up in its wake. "Yeah," you breathlessly reply without wasting a second, head nodding with a little bit too much craving.
The thin fabric feels unnecessary as Nanami worships every inch of your skin within his reach, probably saving what's underneath the pieces of clothing for the last. You grow impatient, body slightly jolting forward when his big hands cover the whole small of your back. "Nanami, please," you whimper, eyebrows furrowing as it gets almost impossible to stop yourself from grinding against him. You feel your shorts getting wet, and it's kind of embarrassing—just by being kissed... Your body tenses, pussy begging for any kind of friction as you feel him growing hard in his sweatpants. If you could just—if you could, God, it'd solve all your current problems if you could just grind against his growing erection. With a low groan, he pulls you closer. "Look at me," he commands, his breath hot against your skin. "Please what?" he whispers. "You need to tell me exactly what you want, love." His hands slide from your back to your hips, slowly guiding you closer and bringing your body in contact with the hardness growing beneath him. All his words are barely a whisper, but the deep tone of his voice tells of his own desperations.
A sound like a soft, broken soft falls from your lips as Nanami shifts in his place, sliding down to lay on his back completely—he bucks his hips up, and it doesn't help. It rips another delicious moan from you, body jolting in his lap again as you hold onto his thick biceps for support; nails digging into his skin. "Don't be mean," you whine, lips pouting momentarily. "You know what I want."
"Do I?" His response is breathless as his big hands hold onto your hips, helping you grind against him, practically riding him through the fabric of these annoying clothes as your body slightly trembles. "Yeah," you immediately reply, eyes getting glossy since the vast suite feels smaller, hotter than ever. Your fingers find the waistband of Nanami's sweatpants, eager to free him from it, yet he holds your hand—causing it to get lost in his big palm. You realize that his hands are actually cold, but it burns when he touches your skin. "Careful," he warns, voice low and husky as he stares into your eyes—his usual neat hair is messy, some strands falling over his forehead, it looks fluffier and softer than usual. "I'm in charge here."
You part your lips to protest, but it’s cut before you even have the chance when Nanami softly smacks your ass with one hand—urging you to lift yourself off from his lap, to inch closer to his face. “Go on,” he says, causing your breath to hitch in your throat as you feel nailed to where you are. “Come on, doll, don’t make me say it twice.”
When you lift your hips up, Nanami doesn’t waste any second; his fingers hook around the waistband of your poor excuse of shorts, that’s what he’d probably say, and he throws them somewhere. God, he loves it when you don’t wear anything underneath; he’s immediately welcomed by your glistening folds as he pushes you a little bit further, lips parting and brows knitting as soon as he has you pressed against his mouth. Your knees pressed against the bed on both sides of his head, one hand holds onto the head of the bed as the other tugs on Nanami’s messy hair—he’ll be the death of you, that’s for sure. 
“Fuck,” the moan is long and drawn-out as your legs tremble, you’re glad that he’s supporting you with his big hands as the bridge of his nose nuzzles against your clit and his tongue laps at your weeping cunt—everytime your body jerks away from him, he has you pressed against his mouth. His low groans send vibrations throughout your whole body, making you cry in pleasure. “Fuck, Nanami—wait,” you breathlessly protest, feeling like you’re losing a piece of your sanity whenever his lips press kisses to your clit and his tongue delves into your pussy; tasting you and eating you out like a starved man. The slick sounds fill the room, hypnotizing, mixing with your breathless whimper and soft cries as well as Nanami’s deep and muffled groans against your pussy. “Can’t wait,” he replies, as if he’s heard you just now, and his gaze meets your eyes, holding your gaze captive. It gets you even wetter, if that’s possible, causing your juices to drip down to his chin and smear all over your inner thighs as his tongue keeps working on you. 
“Please, if you—fuck, fuck, if you don’t wait, I’m just gonna—,” you avert your gaze, feeling embarrassed by the intensity of his gaze as your vision becomes blurry—you’ve forgotten everything that led up to this. Nanami’s face buried in your pussy, tongue desperately lapping, his nose nuzzling against where you need it the most, hands kneading the soft skin of your thighs as his muffled moans and groans send shivers down to your spine. You feel his body twitching, too, hips bucking into the emptiness, he must be painfully hard—pre-cum leaking, staining his sweatpants as he eats you out. 
Without having the chance to say anything, that coiled up feeling explodes—causing you erratically grind against Nanami’s tongue, probably stealing his air, yet he doesn’t seem like he’s complaining even a bit. As you cum, letting him taste you on his tongue and your juices dripping down to his chin, you softly sob—the intense feeling stealing the breath from your lungs. It takes you some time to come down from your high, slowly keeping up your movement. Nanami serves you like the queen you are, letting you tug on his hair and sticking his tongue out, you even hear him gulp, slick sounds becoming slightly louder.
You finally pull back, sliding down until you’re sitting right on top of his painfully hard and sensitive cock, he hisses when he feels your warmth and wetness even through the fabric of his sweatpants. Your legs tremble, and you’re overly-sensitive, but feeling him growing hard just by having you sitting on his face washes you over with that oh-so-familiar feeling. Mind in a haze, you bring your hand up to your husband’s chin and gather all the wetness smeared all over his mouth and chin before you push your thumb into his mouth. Nanami obliges, parting his lips and sucking your finger clean before he presses a soft kiss to the tip of your finger.
“Nanami,” you let your chest meet with his, your hand trailing down on his body until you reach his cock—he gently takes your hand in his, pressing kisses to your knuckles. “No, love,” he is quick to deny you, more like deny himself, and your eyebrows knit together.
“Huh?” 
“Just wanted to make you feel good,” he says with that hoarse tone of his voice. “Wanted to show you what you missed while spending your hours on that fucking desk and ignoring me.”
Your cheeks get flushed now that you know he has been thinking about this all day, how can you let your husband go to sleep with a painfully hard erection? You kiss his jawline before sliding even lower on the bed, eyes peering through your eyelashes as your head moves lower and lower. “I should apologize appropriately, then,” you murmur, fingers hooking around the waistband of his sweatpants. “That’d be only fair, given the circumstances, right?”
Breathlessly, Nanami chuckles—arm lazily thrown over his eyes for a minute or two before he sits up on the bed, helping you get down on your knees on the ground before grabbing you gently by your chin. “Fuck,” he murmurs, seeing your lips parted apart as you tug on his sweatpants. He leans down, spitting in your mouth as you’ve asked, and a gentle slap across your flushed cheek follows shortly after. “What am I going to do with you?” 
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reggiesmolina · 3 days
Text
i saw this post by @shaunashipman and next thing i know i was writing this
(brand new, full throttle) touch me while your boys play grand theft auto
Bucktommy || 878 words || mild sexual content
Read on AO3
Truth be told, it wasn't Buck's fault, honestly. Mostly.
Since the Grant-Nash's house fire and Gerrard became the new interim captain, his 118 family had started a weekly brunch with a rotating hosting system (yes, that had been Buck's idea, thanks for noticing) but after Buck's first turn having them over everyone had agreed that his loft was too claustrophobic with everyone in it so Tommy (sweet, kind, loving Tommy) had offered his house with its big backyard patio with its built-in firepit and grill instead.
So over the summer his family all came together at Tommy's Spanish-style bungalow once every five weeks and really, it wasn't Buck's fault that over those weeks he had started spending more and more time there than in his own loft, sometimes only stopping by his apartment to get more clothes that would eventually end up in the dresser Tommy had built for him on the little workshop he had in his garage tucked between his Muay Thai setup and the car lift, and it really wasn't his fault that he had started thinking about the house as their home even though it was definitely too soon to be thinking like that.
If anything, it was Tommy's fault because that Wednesday morning he had spent forty minutes opening him up so thoroughly with his tongue and fingers that by the time he had finally slipped his cock in him his hole had given no resistance. And it really was Tommy's fault that he'd fucked him fast and hard, Buck's face and chest pressed against the mattress and his ass held up by Tommy's hands marking bruises on his hips, and just as he'd been about to come he had pressed his lips to Buck's ears and growled: "You're such a good boy for Daddy, aren't you? You're gonna cum from Daddy using your loose hole as a fuck toy, huh? Such a perfect boy."
(And really, what else could Buck do but cum so hard he passed out for a minute?)
All this to say that it really wasn't Buck's fault that later that day when he and Athena were washing and drying dishes in Tommy's cozy kitchen he remodelled himself a few years ago and Tommy and Bobby came in with more wine glasses and asked if they were okay washing them or if they wanted them to do it he had felt so comfortable and at home that he didn't stop to think before speaking.
He took the glasses from Tommy and said, "Don't worry, Daddy, I got it," like he would any other day they were together.
(That it took him five seconds in between saying those words and realising what he had just said in front of his dad and his wife was definitely on him.)
The moment he realised his mistake he could feel his heartbeat in his ears. All his blood rushed to his head and heated his face redder than it had ever been.
He barely registered anything else going on. Tommy's panicked stare and tense posture, Bobby's red face, Athena's laugh.
"I think you two can handle the rest of the dishes," she said in between laughs, walking past where Buck and Tommy were still stuck in place.
Buck refused to look up, maybe if he stared at the ground with enough determination a hole would open up and swallow him and he wouldn't have to deal with the fact that his captain and Athena now knew what he called his boyfriend when they were alone.
(And look, if it wasn't because Bobby heard him too he would be laughing with her. He wasn't ashamed of it. He wasn't gonna tell everyone about it but what two consenting adults got going in bed was their own business. Still, there was a difference between embracing your kinks and having your father figure find out about it, there couldn't be anything worse than that.)
"I think," Tommy started in a tentative tone, "we can all agree to forget about this."
"Yeah," Bobby agreed. And God, why was Bobby still here? Had Buck not embarrassed himself enough already? 
"Of course," Buck could hear the amusement in Athena's voice. "But if I'm allowed to say, Buckaroo, there's nothing to be ashamed of. You should hear what Bobby calls me."
(Scratch that. Thinking about Bobby having kinky sex was so much worse. That was his dad.)
And really, it wasn't his fault if Tommy laughed so hard at Bobby's bewildered look that he made Buck forget all about his own embarrassment
"Okay, no more talking," Bobby said. His face was so red it was a wonder any blood was still pumping in his heart. "This never happened. No one ever heard anything."
So really, it wasn't Buck's fault that now his dad knew what kind of names he'd been calling his boyfriend in the intimacy of their own home. And it really, really wasn't his fault he now could imagine the things Bobby called his wife when they were doing it.
(The way Tommy came so hard he blacked out from Buck riding him to the chant of, "Fuck, Daddy, you fill me so well. Love your cock inside me, Daddy" later that evening was entirely his fault, though.) 
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snobgoblin · 1 day
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anyway here's what I headcanon their hair to look like (explanations below)
ok so for Vulgora I kind of just did the medieval bob thing that you seem to see on paintings a lot, except Yassified. because "historical but yassified" seems to be the general vibe of The Arcana anyway /affectionate
also please note I was originally going to give them a monastary haircut and decided against it, the reason I was going to go with this originally is because of their card actually, and because of Volta. I'm pretty sure Volta is modeled after a nun because Temperance (her patron Arcana) is one of the Heavenly Virtues (and the corresponding Deadly Sin is Gluttony so that's neat) and anyway with that in mind I wanted them to have vaguely catholic imagery to match since their card (The Tower) is associated with the Tower of Babel (and also their title Pontifex is usually used in reference to priests)
anyway for Valdemar I was kind of like. what if it was just stupidly long because they haven't cut it in thousands of years. really long flowy hair like this also reminds me of horses (which their patron, Death, is associated with, and it also cements their inspiration as a horseman of the apocalypse) I think it also cements them as kind of like, ethereal. like Nadia. mysterious. you can tell just by looking at the length of their hair that they've been here a long ass time you know (and it kind of reminds me of some fae imagery which, the courtiers remind me of the fae, which, fae is such a vague term that actually includes demons but I specifically mean the courtiers remind me of those really mischievous fairies what with their deals and complicated rules about lying and obsession with politeness and also Vlastomil saying you're not supposed to give them your real name. they remind me of those kind of fae and I think it's notable that in Muriels route Volta just kind of becomes a guardian of the forest. anyway I'm getting way off track here)
also I gave them both pointy ears because Vlastomil has pointy ears but loses them as a human, implying perhaps they all might have pointy ears
as for the colors I just used their eyebrow colors lmao
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juleswritesstuff · 8 hours
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Starving
Basically, just Theo being the munch that he is.
theodore nott x fem!reader
warnings: smut
Enjoy💗
You had always hated Herbology with a deep passion.
Not the plants per se, those were rather fascinating to observe, but did they really need to have such a vast variety of species ? Was it actually necessary ?
Apparently it was, or Mrs Sprout wouldn't have given you a whole 600 words essay to write on every type of mandrake known to man.
Those screaming little things got on your nerves, and you could barely understand what the professor was talking about while tending to them. Hence, you were finding it extremely difficult to complete that paper.
The door of your dorm room suddenly opened and you had to restrain a curse from slipping through gritted teeth.
You had really hoped to not get interrupted.
Apparently your prayers weren't heard.
“You busy, dolcezza ?” (sweetie)
A more than familiar voice reached your ears. You lifted your eyes from your paper and they landed on none other than Theodore Nott, who was standing right in front of your door, now closed again, with a faint smirk plastered on his face. 
You rolled your eyes. You knew that little grin all too well.
“Kind of, yeah” you replied, your attention going back to the paper in front of you as you started scribbling again with your quill “Aren't you ? You're in this class too, have you already finished your essay ?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Just turned it in, so I have some time to kill” he said with that cocky attitude of his.
Infuriating and charming at the same time, truly unfair.
“Good for you, then. I don't, so if you could leave me to it, it would be much appreciated” you said as a forced smile curved your lips.
“Oh, come on. You don't even have a little time ? Per me ?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side with the most innocent expression he could master. (For me ?)
Which didn't work because his eyes screamed trouble.
Theo looked like an angel with his brown hair curled in soft locks and eyes as blue as the ocean, although dead and emotionless looking.
Actually, he was the devil in disguise. Especially when he acted all coy like this.
“No Theo, I really don't have time for your little antics today” you said huffing.
‘His little antics’ being eating you out till tears rolled down your cheeks and your mascara was smudged and unsalvageable. 
You and Theo were ‘friends’. You got along just fine, you talked, and you bickered like there was no tomorrow. It was part of your friendship, the teasing, the little harmless jokes. It was routine for the two of you.
What was also routine was the flirting. 
Shameless and obvious flirting.
You never thought it would lead anywhere. You were so used to the little Italian endearments he gave you and the ever present smirk on his lips that you didn't really think anything of it.
Until one night, after one of the biggest parties that Slytherin had ever thrown, you ended up in his bed, with him between your legs eating you out like his life depended on it.
You didn't even know how you found yourself in that situation, you just knew that you hadn't minded one bit.
You ended up with shaky legs and a dizzy brain just by his tongue alone.
Saying that you didn't mind it would've been an euphemism.
The day after was awkward as hell, but you both were too direct and honest to not deal with the weird atmosphere immediately.
So you decided to add some…privileges to your relationship. 
You discovered Theo had quite an oral fixation. 
He needed to keep his mouth occupied with something.
Cigarettes were a great way to keep his mouth busy, but they were extremely damaging for his health.
You didn't mean to make him stop smoking, you knew it would've been basically impossible, and, if you had to be completely honest with yourself, he looked so damn hot with those death traps between his lips, but you wanted to at least try to reduce the amount of nicotine that went into his body.
And what better way than to bribe him with the second thing he loved the most in the world ?
Eating you out seemed to be his favorite hobby.
Anytime he felt the need to light one cigarette more than necessary he came to you, with that sinful smirk on his lips and the hottest ‘fuck me’ eyes he could master.
And who were you to say no ? 
You had proposed the deal in the first place.
Plus, he was amazing at it too. The way his tongue worked on your cunt definitely felt like ascending to heaven.
But now you really didn't have the time.
“I'm not here because I feel like smoking, Y/n” he said walking up to you and stopping in front of the desk, leaning forward a little as he supported his weight with his hands on the table. 
You made the mistake of lifting your eyes from the parchment and locking them with his. His gaze was magnetic. Once those pools of stormy sea caught you, you couldn't escape.
“Then why are you here ?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.
“Cause I'm starving, tesoro” he uttered with the calmest and most unaffected tone in his voice. (darling)
You narrowed your eyes.
“Then you should be in the kitchen to solve that little problem, don't you think ?” you asked rhetorically, eyes going back to focus on the parchment in front of you.
You heard him scoff, and suddenly he was leaning so much closer.
Your head was still hung low, trying to write that damn essay, but his presence was distracting as hell and you couldn't help but shiver when he leaned to whisper in your ear.
“You're right, that would be the perfect solution if I was hungry for food” he stopped and you could feel the teasing smile plastered on his face 
“But all I'm craving is you and that pretty little cunt of yours, so I don't think the kitchen elves could really help me with that”
You wished you could say his words didn't affect you, you really wished.
But the sudden warmth on your cheeks and the unconscious clench of your legs told another story.
You really didn't have time for this, but your body was craving him and his touch like crazy, and you weren't sure you would've been able to focus if you didn't feel his tongue working its wonders on you.
So you sighed and pushed the chair you were sitting on a bit farther away from the desk, enough to take your knickers off and throw them somewhere behind you, then you sat back, your skirt still covering you up until your mid thighs.
His eyes darkened with lust.
“Make it quick, I have an essay to finish” you said, faking indifference.
On the inside you were burning alive.
“Quick ? It's like you don't know me at all, dolcezza” he said with a scoff as he sank to his knees, crawling until he was right in front of you.
His gaze locked in yours as his hands made contact with the bare skin of your legs, caressing them gently, tenderly.
“I'll take my sweet time with you. Ora fai la brava and open those gorgeous legs for me” you hated how fast you complied, but with the way he was looking at you you really couldn’t help yourself. (Now be good) 
He lifted your skirt and he leaned forward.
As soon as his tongue made contact with your folds you melted.
You choked out a whimper, and you could feel him smirk right against your groin.
"Wipe that grin off your face, Nott, I'm only -ah fuck, I'm only doing it because you begged me” you said as he kept lapping at your core with his tongue, wrapping his lips around your clit to give it a gentle suck.
The moan that rippled out of you was almost pornographic.
“Piccola bugiarda, you know that's not true. You're doing it because you want it too” he moved his mouth from your cunt to your thighs, giving feather light kisses on the sensitive skin. (Little liar)
“You're so wet, you didn't think I would notice ?” he asked with that fucking cocky attitude that made you go crazy.
“Shut up and put that mouth to a better use” you said, but the bite in your voice was definitely toned down by the urgency and neediness of having his mouth back where you needed him the most.
His head tilted to the side as he leaned back just the tiniest bit.
“What's with the attitude, uh ?”
“No, no, no, -shit Theo. Come back here” you said, almost whining.
He was too far, and you needed him.
You needed him closer, way fucking closer.
“E come si dice ?” he teased, his eyes were dark and fogged up by lust and hunger. (And what do you say ?)
“Fuck, why do you always want me to beg ?” you asked, defeated. He leaned forward again, his breath hovering right above the tender skin as you clenched around nothing, feeling the loss of his tongue.
“Because it's fun, I love it when you beg me with that sweet mouth of yours. Plus I like seeing you flustered” he said as he started to kiss every inch and nook of your most sensitive area, avoiding where you really wanted him to.
You wanted to curse so bad, but you knew that was not what he wanted, what he needed.
“Theo -fuck. Please Theo, just touch me. Please” you surrendered, your voice whiny and broken, until a melody of moans and whimpers started to ripple out of your lips as soon as his mouth met your folds again.
And this time he didn’t stop.
He lapped at your juices like a starved man enjoying his meal for the first time in days.
He licked, and sucked, and kissed every centimeter, every inch of tender skin like he was born to do that.
Your hands buried in his soft brown locks and you tugged at them unconsciously after a particularly good roll of his tongue made you see stars.
“Cazzo, se continui così verrò nei pantaloni porca puttana” he said, hissing. His mouth kept working wonders on your cunt, his groans creating delicious vibrations on your clit. (Fuck, if you keep this up I'll come in my pants, holy shit)
“Ancora” he said between ravenous licks and delicate, teasing sucks, guttural moans leaving his lips. (Again)
“What ?” you asked, lost in pleasure. Your little knowledge of the Italian language became nonexistent when he was busy making you cry on his tongue.
“Again, baby. You know i fucking love it” he says, mouthing the words right against your core.
And so you obeyed, tugging at his hair again, a little rougher, a little harder.
A low groan left his lips.
You were close, you were so fucking close.
“Shit, Theo, baby” you moaned out loud, the term of endearment completely slipping out.
Theo seemed to notice, because he started to go faster, tongue flicking desperately at your folds.
Your breath got caught in your lungs, your ears rang and your sight turned black as you got it by pleasure.
The hand on his hair kept Theo close as you rode your orgasm on his tongue.
He lapped at your juices carefully, to not overstimulate you, leaving sweet butterfly kisses on your thighs, worshiping the skin with his lips.
Once your breathing started to go back to normal and your sight was not blurry from the pleasure anymore you looked at him.
He was still kneeling in front of you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as his eyes focused on your face.
“You look quite disheveled, principessa” he said with a chuckle, pride oozing from his features for reducing you in that state. All fucked out and breathless. (princess)
“Oh, yeah ? And whose fault is that ?” you ask in mocking shock, but you can’t help a chuckle from escaping your lips.
“And you're one to talk” you added as you took in his appearance. His eyes were still quite foggy and unfocused, his hair a mess from all the tugging and his lips.
Oh, his lips. Red and shiny with your essence and the tiniest bit swollen.
He looked too fucking good to be true.
You knew you folded too easily when Theo was involved, but you couldn’t help it.
“I told you I was starving, you underestimated my eagerness to fucking ravish you” he said with a shrug wetting his lips to savor your taste once again, like his words didn’t make you feel like you were catching fire.
That mouth of his was a menace, physically and literally.
“I’m never gonna be able to finish this stupid essay now” you said almost desperately.
He laughed at your pathetic whining, but it was a warm laugh, not one made to mock you but one that was closer to endearment.
“Was it so good that it melted your brain off ?” he asked with that cocky grin of his.
You looked at him with a deadpan expression.
“Your overly confident attitude never fails to amaze me, Theodore Nott '' you said with a chuckle. You straightened your posture on the chair, smoothing out all the wrinkles that he had left from fisting your skirt and holding on for dear life to keep your hips still.
“Now I don’t want to kick you out, but I really need to finish this”
“No need for that, tesoro, I’ll leave you to it. Wouldn’t want to distract you too much” he said, getting back up on his feet and tucking a rebellious strand of your hair behind your ear.
“See you at dinner ?” he asked. 
You simply nodded your head yes.
His hand was still gently caressing your cheek, the pads of his fingers were as light as a feather as they danced on your skin.
His eyes were locked in yours, and you had no idea of what was happening.
Until his fingers reached your chin, tilting your head up the slightest bit. 
Then he leaned in.
For the first time since you had started this ‘arrangement’ his lips met yours.
And they were sweeter than you thought, gentle, but there was an undertone of hunger, of neediness that you couldn’t ignore.
He tasted of nicotine and butter beer, bittersweet and addicting.
His lips were slightly chapped but you couldn’t care less about it as his tongue swiped on your bottom lip, his teeth grazing at it gently right after as he carefully bit the plump skin.
He pulled back slowly and you were left speechless.
He just chuckled at your wide eyes and agape mouth.
“Good luck on your essay, ok ? I’ll see you tonight” he left a quick kiss on your cheek before storming out of the door with a smile on his face.
Your thoughts were all over the place, because what the hell had just happened ?
Did Theodore Nott just kiss you ?
Something a little different form my usual marauders content, but he's been stuck in brain for weeks now, and I couldn't help myself 😔
And honestly, as an Italian girl, I really think Lorenzo Zurzolo should be classified as a national treasure, thank you for coming to my ted talk.
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bunnwich · 3 hours
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Rituals☁️(Leona x Reader)
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Leona is low on spoons after the Tamashina-Mina tournament and needs some attention. Also what better way for him to sneakily court his favorite creature?
Curated from my 200k+ words Leona x Yuu fic
Characters: Leona Kingscholar x Yuu!Reader (GN. No physical description for Yuu. Yuu knows massage therapy.)
Words: 3k, 3rd person
Notes: I saw a meme the other day about how: “Liberalism leaves people’s bodies when mental health starts to affect someone’s hygiene” and I thought of how the fandom used to treat Leona. Also, I really wanted to make the “he uses you as a pillow” cliche not icky. 
Tagging: @comingyourlugubriousness @nammanarin @twst-the-night-away @twstinginthewind @ephemii @the-monday-witch @anevilbunnyinthehat @stagefullofsilly @theshipthatneversetsail @patrioticarcreactor @ice-cweam-sod4 @beaniz @the-nightingales-song @efsstash @cyn-write @porcelain-animatronic @lowcallyfruity @bestmannequin2018 @h0rr0r-10ver-69
-
It was baffling enough of a request that Leona Kingscholar invited Yuu to his home, but even more so was the thing he asked of them now.
“What? Am I your servant now, too?”
“No, course not.” He seemed deeply offended at this implication, nostrils flaring in indignance while his ears flopping backward against his hair. “I’m…askin’ you.” His ears flipped back up as he took a step closer, awaiting their response.
“Wait. You're serious…?” Yuu asked with a crinkle of their nose.
“Please…?” The word was barely audible, the man’s green-eyed stare never breaking from theirs. “If you’d be so kind…” He smirked, putting on an air, propping a hand on his hip. It was a warm day at the palace and he donned a pair of loose linen pants and a matching cream-colored tank top, all embroidered with gold.
Yuu swayed their head back and forth while they considered the idea, unimpressed by the sudden “princely” act. What was he up to? They gazed down at the object in their hand as if it held the answer. Well, it wasn’t often that they heard that word from Leona Kingscholar. “Fine, okay.” 
Was it really such a big deal, brushing his hair?
The hammock below the two of them swayed with both their weights as they sat face to face, each teetering on each edge of the colorful canvas. Late afternoon light filtered through the stained glass over all the greenery of the palace gardens, gilding everything it touched. 
Sighing, Yuu made another move, leaning forward to grab another section of the dark waves from the man’s shoulder. They hadn’t even ended up using the brush much so far. The only thing it had been good for was hitting the man when he talked back. 
“Well, the good news is…I got most of it.”
On their way here, Yuu grabbed their bag, bringing it with them to the gardens. Luckily, they kept a few favorites with them at all times. A small vial of rosehip oil; that would work. It could be used for both skin and hair in a pinch. Removing the dropper from the bottle they dripped some more into their palms, rubbing them together before applying it to the end of the man’s loose curls.
“Stinks.”
Yuu couldn’t help but roll their eyes at him. “It’s just rose. It’s nothing compared to that eye-watering cologne you bathe in every day. They sighed, working it through his thick tresses in the silence, pulling it all through to the ends of each section. “...I shouldn’t really be brushing it when it’s all tangled like this, you know.”
“Tch, I know that,” He said indignantly, his lips pressing into a small pout, eyes downcast to watch them work. “Everyone just assumes my hair is like my brother’s…”
They pressed their lips together. “Hmph. Then do it yourself, next time, huh? ” Letting out a huff, they released the bushel of soft curls, the dark curtain falling over Leona's neck. His hair honestly wasn’t as bad as he had made it seem. It just needed some moisture and careful detangling.
“Naw, why would I…when you’re already doing it for me.” The man reclined forward, propping his elbow on the canvas. “Mmm.” He watched them move on to the next section, meticulously separating the frizz and smoothing it over with the oil. Releasing a small sound in his throat,  he stared up at them with lethargic eyes, seemingly in a trance. 
Yuu shook their head at his comment, knowing that secretly he was just eating up the attention.  Keeping their eyes down on their work, they were careful not to pull too hard on his strands.
Leona muttered something as his lids fell completely closed, the end of his tail tapping on the edge of the hammock by their knee. A steady drumbeat.
They took their time with the rest, with only the noise of a few birds calling and Leona’s occasional sigh or grumble. It wasn’t long before, their lids lulled down too. It was relaxing in a way, quietly detangling someone’s hair.
Every once and a while their eyes flitted to the man’s face, catching the little twitch of the corner of his lips. After Yuu was done the detangling, they pulled two equal parts of the bottom sections forward, trying their best to get them even. They stuck their tongue out while they focused, before braiding them as neatly as they could manage, in the way he normally wore them. 
“There, you look more like yourself...” Yuu shrugged when they were done, tugging on one of the braids, and making sure the man wasn’t actually asleep.  “Better?” They crossed their arms, raising a brow over at him.
“Yeah.” The man opened his eyes slightly, the edge of his mouth falling into a crooked, but satisfied smile. “You did good.” His voice crackled just like the way a warm fire would. Like the bonfires at Savanclaw. He may have been sincere, but everything Leona said was always dipped in just a little bit of patronization.
Yuu palmed him on the forehead, pushing his face away slightly before letting their fingers drift up to his scalp, moving some of the hair out of his face.
“Hm?” He questioned, shifting slightly, turning his head to look up at what they were doing.
“Are you uh- still having those headaches?” They began to work their finger into his crown, between his twitching ears, pressing gently down on a few familiar pressure points. “I have to tell you, I’m the best.”
“I always have a headache when you're around.”  He sat up erect, suddenly seeming full of energy, grabbing their calves and yanking them closer to him, practically into his lap. He kept going until the backs of their legs were hooked over his thighs. He chuckled in delight at their bewildered deer-in-headlights reaction. 
Yuu froze at his boldness, pressing their lips together into a pout as they stared up at him with blinking eyes. 
“Don’t be all shy, now. Prove it. I think I got a big one coming on.” He purred at them.
Still playing, hm? “Hmph.” They huffed out a breath at his shenanigans.
Leona didn’t let them get far though, keeping his hands locked around their ankles, leaning over to study their reaction. “Feel free to say no.” He released them, holding his hands up innocently. “...If you’re not up to the task that is.” A bit of his white fangs gleamed as his sneer widened, leering at them through his dark lashes.
“You-” Yuu stuttered, resigning themselves. They were falling for it. This is what Leona was best at: pushing others into “proving themselves” by gently prodding them from their comfort zone.
“Fine.” Saying nothing more, they only lifted their hands to evaluate him once more, taking in a breath before tracing their fingers down the sides of his muscular neck. 
Ah, the man seemed a bit surprised to see them agree, but he quickly masked it with another smug smile as he lifted his jaw to accommodate them.
Leona’s skin was much warmer than theirs and surprisingly smooth, his excited pulse fluttering under their fingers. “Hm. You are tense.” They muttered aloud, pressing their thumb into one of the hard muscles there. “That hurt?”
“Ack, what do you think? Beast…” He hissed, his ears lowering slightly, grabbing their wrist to stop them.
Yuu smirked, most people didn’t expect that kind of strength from them…until they gave them a chance to prove it. “Sheesh, sorry you big baby. I was just askin’.” They rolled their eyes and swatted his nosy hand away. This allowed them to focus again, laying their palms on both of his broad shoulders. 
They could see it clearly now, his shoulders were rounded forward, and his left side was higher–signaling to them he probably held more tension there.
The man was studying them again, one grumpy eye barely open. 
Yuu chuckled, no one expects how much it hurts. Though as much as they enjoyed hurting the man, they went in softer this time, gently kneading his shoulders and neck, before they bothered to poke him anymore. As they worked closer to his jaw, they became enveloped in his signature smell. Traces of cinnamon, hints of orange, and star anise lingered on their fingertips as they explored his exposed skin, taking care to not pull on the golden necklace that hung from his neck.
“How…did you know?” Leona asked through a groan.
 They had hit the right spot.
“The way you walk, for one. You know, with your head forward. For royalty…your posture is terrible, you know. You heard Vil. Anyways, I can just tell by feeling most of the time.” Yuu added, continuing to work on the tightest areas first.
“Tch, you’re one to talk,” He said through his groans, brown ears flopping to the sides as he began to relax into their skilled touch. “...I recall us both getting reamed by Schoenheit at those practices.”
“Hey, I’m not the one on trial here. You asked for my expert opinion.” They continued, reaching around to the back of the man’s neck to rub circles in the base of his skull, moving up into his thick hair.
Leona made a rumbling noise in his chest at this, letting his head nod forward until he went completely limp in their hands. Somewhere, between the ticks of both their breaths, he had slumped his whole weight on them. A whole lion in their lap.
“Mmm.” He nuzzled his forehead against Yuu's shoulder, moving his hand from their calf up onto their arm, running a finger across the loose thread of their sleeve.
Yuu tensed, the man’s warm breath tickling their neck. It felt a little surreal to think such a powerful mage lay against them now like an oversized house cat. It was sort of an honor that he felt so relaxed around them. Sort of. 
They shook their head, trying not to giggle, and straightened their back to accommodate the new weight. Yuu kept on working as if nothing had changed, ignoring the fluttering in their guts that his soft breaths over their cheeks stirred. 
After they finished with his scalp, they worked back down to his shoulders, grabbing both of them and twisting them to one side, signaling wordlessly for the man to turn around for them. The hammock squeaked as he rearranged himself and Yuu pulled his head down into the center of their lap.  
Going by cat behavior, he had shown them his belly, a small sliver peeking from the edge of his tank top. Now, with a completely malleable lion in their lap, Yuu couldn’t help but smile. He was totally at their mercy, moving whichever way they pulled him.
Some people they had worked on, like Jack, could never fully relax for them, no matter how many times they reminded him to. However, the oxymoron of man before them seemed to have no problem flopping over like a sleepy kitten, ready to be petted. 
Their fingers made their way up and down his neck shoulders and even a bit of his chest, respecting the barrier of his tank top.
Every once in a while, Leona’s lips tumbled open with a deep rumbling sigh of relief, pressing himself in their touch with each stroke, seeming to crave more and more. Their face grew hot, and some part of this felt…too intimate. No, no. It was just a massage, but the man’s touch-starved reactions were becoming harder and harder to ignore.
 It was only when Yuu’s fingers reached up to his jaw did Leona open his eyes once more.
As their fingertips settled on the sides of his face, his shoulders went stiff under their care. Yuu could feel Leona’s pulse ramp up for the first time during the massage.  His jaw tightened as they brought their fingers up to the temples of his grimacing face, trying to soothe him. 
He couldn’t be nervous now, could he?
“You…hold a lot of tension in your face too,”  They said calmly, urging his head to the right side, “Especially your…jaw.” They moved down to press their thumb into his cheek, easily finding the small, rigid muscle on the left side of his face.
The man grunted, “Easy.” 
Yuu shook their head again and eased up some. “...Just breathe.” They sighed, rolling their eyes as they massaged his jaw. “That right there is probably a big culprit of your headaches, you know.”
“Hmm,” He replied thoughtfully, his face softening some at their more gentle method. 
Their fingers worked each side of his face some more, then trailed slowly up his nose, rubbing circles across his sinuses. When they made their way up to his “third eye” area they rubbed extra hard to make a point, trying to get him to relax once more. “Sorry, just trying smooth out that permanent wrinkle you got there…”
Leona scoffed, dipping his head back into their touch, and closing his eyes shut again. “Tch, yeah well, every time I come home to visit it ages me five years, so...” He chuckled.
Yuu let out a light chuckle too, taking the strokes they made on the man’s cheeks upward and into his hairline, brushing against his scar a few times.
Leona’s forehead creased, an uncommon expression gracing his usually stern or sarcastic face. His broad nose curled in discomfort and they could see his eyes flicker anxiously under his lids. He was even holding his breath.
“Hey…Just breathe I told you!” They repeated with another soft laugh. “It helps with circulation.”
“Mmph.” The man said nothing and grunted at them before exhaling loudly. They would have thought they were doing something painful to him by his expressions.
Yuu tilted their head, realizing exactly what this was all about. They cupped their palms around his cheeks before dragging the stroke up, one of their fingertips running over the edge of his scar again to test the theory. 
The skin was dryer there and slightly raised. It created extra pull whenever they went over it. But, besides that…it was no different than any other part of his face. The Leona Kingscholar couldn’t be self-conscious, could he? No one ever really commented on it, and it surely did nothing but, to quote Rook: add to his “handsome and rugged charisma.”
But, the more they thought about it, they could understand why he was so dodgy about it. A memory like that, couldn’t have been pleasant.
The more times Yuu went over it they sensed a strange pull of energy from the area, like deep space. They were sure it was something the man had buried deep, so he could convince himself that he didn’t remember what actually happened anymore. 
Can’t remember every little scratch, he said once. How many people knew the real truth, they wondered. Or if there were any legends behind it in the palace.
“You don’t have ta’ touch it.” The man blurted out, trying to keep a straight face. His lips pressed together hard before he feigned a usual smug grin. “Though, I know that you’re a professional and all.”
“Wha-” Yuu almost wanted to roll their eyes at him for how dramatic he was being but, they didn’t. 
 “And- Why…would it bother me?” They asked casually, continuing the face massage as normal.
“Hmph.” Leona let out a huff, one side of his mouth arching upwards into a small smile. “I…see.” When he opened his eyes again, they were shiny, reflecting the tree tops around them. “Not many people have uh-”
 “Feel better?” Yuu lifted their hands from his face as they finished, saving him from the awkwardness of elaborating further. They had seen plenty enough to know how relieved he was at their response. That was enough.
“Mmhm.” He answered, clearing his throat before sitting up to face them again, the whole hammock groaning in response.  “....Thank ya.” He muttered, reaching behind to rub the back of his neck. “Much looser now-”
Leona sighed, eyebrows curving up over his eyes. Then, all at once his gaze snapped up to them, taking them in from head to toe. In one smooth movement, he let his body settle down against theirs, his strong shoulder pressing against them. 
Yuu’s heart hammered against his, mirroring the same fervid beat. No, this was more than just hair brushing. They hadn’t considered the implications until this moment, those of beastmen courtship and personal hygiene that they had read about. The concepts were often interlinked. Sacred.
A hug? No, he was just still just staring at them now, inches away, like a cat ready to pounce. The usual slits of his eyes were dark pools of space, reflecting back their own baffled expression. 
Yuu swallowed. They were so gridlocked by his intense stare, it was hard to speak or even breathe with him pressing them so firmly to the canvas hammock. He seemed at odds with something, his worn gaze downcast. “W-What…what’s wrong, Leona?” They whispered through an unsteady chuckle, managing to keep their head.
“Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.” He whispered, letting his weight sink further into them. There was a peaceful smile on his face as he reached up to grab a section of their hair from behind their ear, twisting it between his fingertips, tail flopping behind him lazily.
It felt like they were being chosen for something.
“Wha-” Their eyes widened, it took them a whole 30 seconds to realize the man was braiding the pieces together, calm and methodical, like when he was arranging his pieces on a chess board. Part of the plan. It was obvious Leona knew how to braid hair but it was…surreal to behold it.
When he was done the corner of his mouth turned up more, creasing a dimple into his cheek. His eyes fixated on the sight of his results, he was so…proud of his work.
Yuu didn’t even have time to speak before he turned his head away, lying his cheek on one side of their shoulder once more. He had done it so casually as if he had done it a hundred times before and would do it a hundred times more.
They understand why he did it, the two of them were…a matching set now.
He chose them. Their heart squeezed as the man draped his arms around their waist, locking them in place once more as something shifted between them.
 Leona’s cocky air had all but dissipated. “...Is this okay with ya?” He muttered so softly they almost missed it. He was asking permission, asking if they would accept him.
“Oh um…Y-yes.” They let their arms fall around his back, tugging on the end of his curls as they held him. Yes, he was getting way too comfortable, but it was their fault for allowing it, right? Yuu laid their head on his, letting him know for sure that: yes, it was okay.
“Hey, I know you're not falling asleep right now.” They grumbled playfully, tugging on his hair and furrowing their brow. Meanwhile, they curled their legs around his torso like a koala as he held them tight, making sure there was no space between them.
They knew it was all a lost cause. He had set the board how he wanted. He would not let them go again, and they didn’t want him to.
“Shh,” Leona mumbled into their shirt, inhaling deeply. “ You’ve been real workin’ lately hard, right? Rest wit’ me.”
“But I-” Yuu yawned, their eyes watering some as they did. The action had forced their eyes shut. The breeze also was not helping, rocking them both gently inside the hammock.  “Fine. But just for a little while.” They breathed out, their own shoulders finally relaxing. Yuu’s head slumped over to gently bob against Leona’s. 
“You win…this time.”
The man only chuckled at their admission of defeat, a warm note buzzing against their chest. 
The last thing they saw was the colored glass of the greenhouse, filtering in pink light through the serrated leaves of the palm trees.
Leona’s sighs of contentment traveled through their body, as his warm fingers kneaded into their back. 
--
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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days
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I think that prior to Tim being found out as a spider demon, only Cass had good thoughts about Spiders. And maybe Damian but in more of a "don't kill it, you put it in a cup and move it to the garden" kind of way. Dick *hates* them and Jason had a bad experience with Beast Boy using the form of a spider the size of a dinner plate to jump scare him when he was still Robin.
As for how he makes his silk, i once saw a design of a spider demon that had two black dots at the corners of its mouth and when it pressed a finger to the dots and pulled them away, a line of string was hanging between their finger and the dot. I think his thread looks like normal spider thread (including the size) but is durable enough that only a few strands can stop a charging Bane. It's possible for him to take the silk he produces and turn it into thread and from thread into fabric. The fabric moves and feels like high quality silk but is about twice as durable as Kevlar due to how strong his threads are.
The only reason all of the Bats aren't already decked out in full Tim Silk Gear is because of the sheer amount of time and energy it takes to make that much thread. If he uses all of his spare time to make thread and turn it into fabric as quickly as he can, he would only make 2 or 3 fabric napkins in a month. If he was only eating, sleeping, and making silk he could produce a single sheet about the size of a picnic blanket in the same amount of time. Not exactly a lot of fabric to work with. Plus there's the fact that his thread is very weak by the standards of his species due to a mixture of malnutrition, constant exhaustion, and frequent injuries.
However, most of his family does have at least one thing that he made with his thread for them. They have no idea what kind of fabric it is that Tim brings them things made of and when asked if he can get more, he simply shakes his head and says, "I wish I could, but farming to much of the material needed to make this stuff can seriously harm the type of creature that creates it. I'm keeping it vague so that you guys don't try to buy it yourselves. The person I get this from have been very, *very* heavily researched to make sure that it's done in a humane way. Basically anywhere else you find this stuff is almost garenteed to be horribly mistreating the creatures to force them to produce as much as physically possible. And I got my guys entire stock just to make this for you." This throughly covers his tracks and makes it so that the Bats won't consider trying to buy more silk from other sources. Most of the things he makes for them are small, like gloves or Domino Masks or at most an under shirt to give them an extra layer or protection. Cass's whole cowl is made of Tim's Silk.
As for what kind of malnutrition Tim has, the Bats already knew about that, sort of. John saw Bruce's new gloves and after feeling them asked where the fuck he got that much Jorogomo Silk and why it's such Shit Quality. When Bruce asked for him to elaborate, Constantine ran his hands over the gloves a few times while muttering to himself before sighing, "Malnutrition. Their silk is a direct reflection of their health. Whoever made this, they have *not* been eating well. Probably only just enough to survive and with no... well, you'd probably be glad to hear that the one who made your gloves hasn't been chowing down on an human flesh. But it's an important part of their diet. Yeah, this one seems to have been trying to use supplements for the shit it needs, but that'll never truly work. Like you can take all the vitamins tablets ya want, but unless you go out and soak in some sunshine every now and then you'll always be deficient in Vitamin D cause your body just won't process it. If I were you, I would get in contact with your seller and get them a deal with the local mourge. After all, you're from Gothem. I'm sure no one would notice if a few of the already dead disappeared."
That night Bruce had an uncomfortable conversation with Tim about how his seller might not be as good as he thought and what Mourges tended to "loose" bodies most often. Tim did start eating some from the already dead but he hates it. Not because hes eating people but because they've been dead for a while and only fresh bodies taste good.
As for Jack, he goes into a coma until Tim gets there and he uses some of his threads to make Jack his puppet. However, Tim doesn't have any practice with preserving the bodies of his puppets yet so after about a month, Jack is starting to fall apart a little so Tim sets up for him to be part of a car crash and makes a new puppet to be Uncle Eddie. The second puppet does last longer, but only about 2 and a half months and then Tim eats what's left of Uncle Eddie. Maybe one day he'll be able to make puppets that last for years like his mom did, but not just yet.
Also she isn't dead and does stay in contact. She just got bored of her life as Janet Drake and ditched her puppet, telling Tim "here's my new number and new name and the puppet of your father. Good luck kiddo." And Tim was like "YOURE THE BEST MOM" because really, by their standards she is. Most of his species are completely abandoned once they can walk, hide themselves, and produce silk. Most don't have any idea who their parent or parents are at all.
Ooh! The way you made his silk OP but then put in a very realistic limitation was cool as hell.
I'm also curious how the Bats would feel about Tim needing to consume human flesh. If Red Hood is still killing, it would he super cool of him to offer up some of the people he murders. Hopefully that will be a bit fresher and better tasting for Tim.
Also, would Alfred try to cook food for Tim's diet? Or would that be too much for Alfred to handle so he refuses to cook human flesh?
If Tim or someone else cooked that food (post-reveal), they probably would have to build an entire kitchen just for him. They wouldn't want to cross contaminate that since it could make the humans really really sick.
You mentioned that Tim doesn't hate consuming flesh. Does he have any reservations about it? Are there parts of his being that he hates for not being human enough?
At least Bruce doesn't seem to mind a creature consuming already dead people. Though, maybe Tim (pre-reveal) worries Bruce would mind if it was someone he knew.
I'm also hella curious where puppet Uncle Eddie comes from. Dead body? Bad guy Tim doesn't mind turning into a puppet?
Love Janet Drake. Maybe Tim could go visit her every once in a blue moon. If not, at least both of them seem happy and content with their relationship
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You mentioned ghoul scent markings-- can you elaborate on that? Explain it and dump any other thoughts you have about it?
So, I feel like ghoulification would heighten all of the senses (*within the confines of what tissues can remain intact over long spans of time, like centuries; we see older ghouls, especially, with things like cataracts, etc. that would would obviously impact your perception), but the sense of smell especially. Smell is widely considered to be the "weakest" of the human senses, but if you were constantly regenerating the smell receptors that are physically closest to your brain, along with having basically one massive nostril, I'd think you'd at least smell SOMEWHAT more effectively.
I've seen people assume that, as ghouls eventually lose their noses to decay, they have no sense of smell, and (absolutely no disrespect or anything) I find that sort of funny. The olfactory sense ultimately originates in the brain, like any other sense, and the smell receptors that pick up on odors are not only found in the cartilaginous parts of the nose AKA the part that would rot off.
Scent memory is also one of the strongest kinds of memory, as the olfactory bulb that processes smells is located very close to the amygdala and the hippocampus, the memory centers of your brain. For this reason, I think that many ghouls, but particularly ferals, would be incredibly sensitive to smells, even if their particular "nose" is weak from decay. I'd imagine that ferals, as they slip further and further into the sort of aggressive, rotting dementia state we see them in, would still be able to connect with some human memories through smells. I think this may be one of the things that draws them to people so easily, even when you're trying to sneak past them.
Imagine moldering away for years and years, rational and conscious thought basically lost to you, and then, for just a breath, you smell a long-lost loved one's perfume, a favorite food you haven't tasted in decades, a fresh rain after a long, long dry spell. Just for a moment...you can remember.
All that to say that I think smell would be a very big deal for ghouls. Especially the smell of people they care about. One day, the memory of that smell may be quite literally all they have left.
I'm not sure most of them would be conscious of the fact that it's scent marking, but it wouldn't be uncommon to find ghoul lovers (ghouls who are lovers AND those who love ghouls) swapping clothing, reveling in their partner's smell enveloping them and vice versa. Taking their lover around other ghouls and knowing that the fact that the others can smell them all over you means they know you're theirs. Ghouls smelling another ghoul on you and knowing all your business without you even having to say anything.
(Plus...it's just a fun excuse to not have to pull out, you know?)
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softinkshadows · 19 hours
Text
Overworking
Disclaimer: explicit sex
Fem! reader x Nanami Kento
----
Ding! You press the doorbell to room 703, grumbling under your breath. It's already day 3 of the tech conference and your ankles feel almost bruised from all the walking in heels. You can already feel your body straining against a week of consecutive 3 hours of sleep, in between lunchtime meetings, speeches, networking sessions and too many cups of coffee (and occasionally champagne). You glance briefly at your watch. 11pm. To make matters worse, there's a mid-event assessment report due by noon tomorrow. And your colleague still has not answered the door, leaving you to muck pathetically about the expensive carpet and ostentatious perfume of the hotel corridor.
"Hey!!" you rap on the door, impatient. "We haven't got all day-"
The door swings open abruptly.
You're a little taken aback at the suddenness, but also at the newfound proximity. Your colleague was dressed in a laidback t shirt and sweatpants, a white towel draped casually across shoulder.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, I was in the shower. Let's get to the report," he said, turning back towards the room and motioning for you to enter.
You kick off your heels near the doorway, shutting the door with a click. Maybe it's the fact that it has been long day, or the fact that you've never seen your colleague outside of his perfectly pressed beige suit and slacks. But you feel disoriented, and nervous, as if you stumbled upon a scene you shouldn't have. When did Nanami Kento, of all people, actually look kind of attractive?
You spread out the printed documents on the coffee table and pull up the slides and excel sheets on your laptop. Your eyes can't help but slide, every now and then, over to the man seated next to you on the couch.
Nanami had always gotten on your nerves. If it was not an early promotion, then it was a compliment from Director Yamazaki, or a client lunch only he was invited to. You'd both graduated from ivy leagues with top grades, started at JJK Corp at the same time, and yet it always seemed he was just a step ahead of you. And while he was competent, there was just something about it that seemed quite unfair. It made you bitter and him stoic, filling your working relationships with barbed back-and-forths. Somehow it was Nanami that always knew how to rile you up the most.
You watch as a glistening drop of water falls from his damp hair, darkening a spot on his grey shirt. You could feel the slight warmth of his body, radiating from his proximity. Also, he smelt good.
"Uhm okay," you clear your throat to redirect your focus. "So about the report, it seems like we have pretty good sentiment around the CTO's remarks."
"Yes, and I think with this it will be good to introduce some, uh, some new messaging around our core product," Nanami said. It was only when he stuttered slightly that you realised his face was very lightly flushed. Was he drunk?
He caught you looking quizzically before quipping quietly. "Yeah sorry, I was dragged for some drinks with clients after the dinner."
"Oh, with Director Yamazaki?"
"Yeah."
You fight the feeling of frustration wanting to claw its way out of your chest.
"Well anyway, I don't think that's the right call. The downsides around the technology is too sensitive to broach now, it'll invite unnecessary criticism," you shot back a little too fast, irked from exhaustion as well as to compensate from how oddly riled up you are. "We should just stick to what the CTO discussed, and double down from there."
"You don't like me, do you?" Nanami said, his teeth lightly clenched.
There was a rather long silent pause.
You met his gaze and tried hard not to squirm under its intensity. There was something in his eyes which showed annoyance, provoking, yet somehow tinged with a little remorse, as if he regretted what he just said. It was only now that you realise he was in fact very drunk.
Angry, haughty, stoic, bratty Nanami you could deal with. But drunk Nanami? It was a whole new animal.
"Er I..." you trail off in growing discomfort, at a loss of what to say. Your eyes subconsciously dipping to his neck, still streaked with a little water from his shower, and the broad curve of his shoulders. Somehow the sight made your mouth dry, stomach knotting in a newfound intimacy. You look back up and see his brown eyes still on you, piercing. Immediately, you flush up to your cheeks.
"I-I mean, the report.." you begin to say, stammering. Flailing. Saying anything possible to distract him from this embarrassing moment.
"Screw the report," Nanami breathes. Then he pulls you into him, his hand cupping your chin. Your lips almost touching
Then he pauses, observing your reaction, waiting for permission. His cheeks are pinker now, and the tips of his ears are lightly flushed. You feel your heartbeat in your ears, the tension in your chest about to burst. He always knew how to rile you up.
"Ugh, screw you," you moaned as you gave in, leaning in to smash your lips against his.
With a new hunger, Nanami grabbed your waist and pulled your legs around his, pressing your body hard against him as he sloppy kissed his way into your mouth, his fingers stroking up and down the length of your thigh. You moaned at the feeling, the taste of alcohol on his tongue egging you on. You felt even more giddy at how unrestrained he was, how strong his arms were around you. Before you knew it, you could feel yourself growing wet between your legs, desperate for friction.
As if on cue, his nimble fingers found its way to your waistband, unbuckling your pants, and pulling them down around you. You're too caught up with his tongue stroking the inside of your heated mouth, of both your spit trickling down the side of your lips to feel self conscious. He moves his hand up your your blouse, stroking your spine lightly before removing your top as well.
Nanami pauses for a moment, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His brown eyes burning with lust.
Your bra straps have fallen off your shoulders, your hair messy and tousled, lips wet and legs parted. Your lace underwear has a spot darkening with slick. He's never seen you like this.
"Oh fuck," Nanami breathes, pulling you to straddle him such that your back is to him. He nibbles on your neck, fingers dancing a trail from your collarbone, to your breasts, where he plays with your hardened nipple through your lace bra. His hands travel down to your underwear, where he massages your clit lightly from the outside.
"Stop teasing, Nanami, ah-" you cry out, your body quivering with want.
You're on edge, spreading your legs wide as possible and arching back into him to just feel anything. Wanting to push yourself into his touch.
Nanami relents. He pushes aside the fabric and strokes his digits lightly along your drenched folds. "You're wet," he chuckled, before inserting one thick finger into your cunt and biting lightly on your neck at the same time.
The sensation is enough to make you gasp out loud in pleasure, as you spread your legs wider to, thrusting up into his palm.
"Shhhh.. you really have to be a little more patient," he whispered into your ear, before adding a second finger to stretch you out.
Your eyes widen at the feeling, moaning as his large fingers already fill you.
"Did you know I've always wanted to have you like his, quivering over me with my fingers inside you?" Nanami lulled, adding his third finger into your quivering pussy. Already, from the sound of them thrusting in and out of you, you're obscenely wet, and he hasn't even taken off his clothes.
"But not, you had to be a little minx. Always all about work, and the competition," Nanami emphasised the last word while reaching his thumb up to press against your swollen nub.
"Ahhh fuck me, Nanami, please, I need to.." you gasp in between heavy breaths, on the verge of falling off the edge of pleasure. His fingers going in and out of you fast, squelching and hitting your g spot with every movement, your juices dripping down your thighs and onto the couch. At that moment, he speeds up, his fingers drilling into you relentlessly and his thumb massaging your clit in circles. His other hand clasps lightly around your neck as he whispers into your ear, "Come for me, sweetheart."
"Ahhh Nanami, fuck-" You moan as you come undone, hitting your climax. Your mind goes blank as you convulse around his hand, feeling your juices coating his palm. Thighs shaking, you arch into his kiss and frenziedly rub your ass against his crotch to ride out the high, gasping for air as fingers continue to pummel in and out of you.
When you come down, he pulls his fingers out, stringy with all your fluids. He licks them off with his tongue before pulling you in for another kiss.
"I would have liked to do this in the bedroom first, but I don't think I can wait," Nanami murmured darkly. He lifts you easily and turns you around, so that you're facing him, legs spread out on either side of him and ready.
He unclasps your bra and throws it unceremoniously to the side, out of sight. "Oh god, you're beautiful," he whispers, trailing his fingers around your nipples before his bites onto one of them hard. You moan, grasping his hair with your fingers and finding your legs unconsciously spreading wider. You can feel him hot and hard beneath the sweatpants, and suddenly this animalistic hunger overtakes you and you absolutely need to be completely filled up by him.
You almost tear off his shirt, licking and biting your way down his neck, while your hands fiddle with his sweats to set him free. His cock is already huge and hard against his abs, throbbing with a little precum at the tip.
"Nanami I need you in me, now, please" you beg, pawing at his chest, messily kissing around his mouth. Nanami chuckles into the kiss, before lifting you and slowly lowering you onto his cock.
You wince slightly at his girth and how big he is. He's barely past the tip and you can feel him stretching you so much it stings. But you're already so wet and needy that your juices are coating him, making it easier for his cock to bury itself into you.
"Such a good girl," Nanami murmurs, stroking your hair as he lowers you all the way up to the hilt, you body trembling to accommodate his size. You feel so indecently splayed out in front of him, nipples wet and sore from being bitten, sweat speckling across your body and his entire cock sheathed inside you, that you felt yourself getting wetter despite the stinging stretch. You begin to grind against him, feeling his whole length stroke your insides, hitting the spot deep inside you.
"Oh! Nanami! Fuck, you feel so good," you cry out at the pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Something about Nanami, about the way he gazes at you with such feral hunger, the way his fingers are pinching your nipples and holding the small of your waist, ignites a new thirst in you.
Without warning, you feel a new escalating pleasure build in your stomach as you hit another climax, moaning and rolling your hips around his cock, hearing your pussy squelch around his length, which continues to throb and brush against your g spot.
"Oh fuck," Nanami groans, "You're needy for my cock? What a little slut." He starts to bounce you up and down his length, coating the base to the tip of his cock with your cum before slamming you down again. You cry out at the rough and new sensation, pleasure starting to build again as the room fills with the sound of wet skin against wet skin.
He reaches around to slap your ass, hard and unforgiving. It's certain to leave a mark and you love it, crying out and moaning and egging him on, begging for him to go faster and harder.
"Nanami- oh fuck - feels so good!" you moan as he picks up his pace, thrusting into you, your nipples sliding against his now-sweaty chest, your clit rubbing against his torso and getting even wetter by the second.
"You're such a desperate minx, have you been waiting for me to ruin you all this time?" Nanami grunts between heavy breaths. You can feel the strain, the vein in his forehead that shows how desperate he also feels, rutting into you like his life depends on it.
"Fuck - yes!" You cried out, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks from the intensity, as you feel yourself completely emptied, then gaped wide and filled so entirely, as Nanami's cock goes in and out of you. You breath catching in your throat, you feel the knot of tension in your stomach growing larger, wider, your limbs beginning to quiver with pleasure and pain.
"Nanami, I'm going to-" you're unable to finish your sentence, as Nanami quickens his pace, pinching your nipples hard and using his hands to spread your ass cheeks even wider so he can bury his cock even deeper. His throbbing length hits the wall of your cervix rhythmically. HIs tongue laps around your nipples and your neck and earlobes, all the sensations tipping you over the edge as you come, loud and hard, moaning and whimpering against him. Your pussy clenching and convulsing around him unbearably tight, juices dripping across his thighs and onto the couch. His fingers around your ass also drenched, pushing and prodding against your hole, making you eyes blow out in pleasure as you ride out your longest ever orgasm.
The erotic sight and sensation sends Nanami over the edge as he thrusts wildly inside you and ruts into you one more time, shooting hot, thick ropes of cum inside you. "Fuck.." Nanami moans, emptying out and holding your waist so he coats all of your walls. You curse at the feeling, moaning so good against him as your orgasm doubles, driven by lust and the depravity of his want. Your slick now mixed with white cum seeps out from you, coating his balls, trickling sticky down to the sofa.
You've never felt this good in a long time.
Nanami pulls you in to him, breathing hard.
"I don't hate you," you finally said, your face flushes, legs trembling from the high.
"Seems like you don't," he laughed, reaching to give you a kiss on the cheek. He eyes settle on open door to the bedroom, before looking back at you.
"Ready for round two?"
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