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sourpeachsayshi · 10 months ago

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(kinda self indulgent but-)

Nanami knows your beauty routine like the back of his hand. How you keep your nails, your hair, your skincare, make up, body care etc. But he especially knows that you’re a stickler when it comes to hair removal. He thinks it’s interesting that sometimes you’ll forgo him making love to you because you’re “you’re not prepared”. Rambling off some excuse about how you haven’t had a chance to shave or see your waxer.

Nanami, of course, will never argue. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with. But he sees how you ease the more you trust him, the more you grow comfortable in your relationship. You don’t even bat an eye when he loops his fingers around the strings of your underwear, drags it down slowly - the tip of his cock leaking with pre cum and brows raising when he sees tufts of hair on your pubis.

It’s only when he gently grazes his fingers against your mound do your eyes shoot open. You clasp your fingers around his wrist and squeeze, “wait, I forgot-“ you blurt, half ashamed.

But he knows you’re in heat, takes a second to drag his fingers up against your slit.

“I’m not ready for you,” you insist, pushing yourself up on your forearms only to watch your lover pull his digits away, your slick coating the pads in glittering strings.

“I beg to disagree,” he teases, eyes on yours while his fingers move to his lips to taste your arousal, making you pulse from between your legs.

His moves one hand to your pelvis, gently massaging his thumb against your hip. “You know I have no preference, right?” he ensures, “I just want to eat you out and fuck you as I please. But I won’t do it if you’re uncomfortable.”

His touch on your hip burns your skin. You can feel yourself getting wet. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper after a few seconds, and Nanami smiles.

He kisses your belly button, creates a path down your lower belly and over your mound. His lips circle over your clit, his tongue rubbing the bud. He throws your legs over his shoulders, and feasts.

#this is very much a self insert #however you view body hair is beautiful ❤️#but I just find this idea so sexy especially as someone who prefers to be a hairless cat 😂#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami smut

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blitzwhore · 4 months ago

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New Year's Kiss

“I've been meaning to apologize,” Stolas’ low voice broke the comfortable silence between them.

Blitzø glanced up at him, and found the owl's gaze lost somewhere past the busy streets of Imp City.

It was twenty minutes—give or take a few—before midnight on New Year's Eve, and the streets were bustling with people coming and going, fireworks already booming on the horizon. Loona had long since left for a party with her friends. As far as Blitzø was aware, M&M were on a well deserved romantic, candle-lit date.

Any other year, midnight would've found Blitzø balls deep into a faceless stranger, or perhaps elbow-deep into a tub of Bee&Jerry's as he binge-watched his comfort shows until he passed out from exhaustion. One way or another, he would've been trying his damndest to push away memories of his past—to drown out thoughts of all the people he wouldn't get to spend the night with.

Tonight, it seemed like midnight was about to find him sharing yet another cig with Stolas on his balcony.

The mere thought filled his chest with a bubbling kind of happiness, made him giddy enough that he felt the impulse to lean closer to Stolas, rest his head on the bump of Stolas’ hip.

He resisted the urge, though, and instead replied to Stolas with a low, “What for?”

Stolas breathed out a cloud of smoke and glanced momentarily down at Blitzø.

“For my behavior in the last few weeks,” he said, rolling the cig between his fingers. “I have been… a mess, frankly. There's really no other way to put it.”

“Stols, you had reasons to be that way,” Blitzø said, resting a comforting hand on Stolas’ waist. Even through Stolas’ loose jumper, he could feel warmth emanating from the soft feathers hidden underneath. He thumbed at the dip just below his hip, and didn't miss the small shiver that ran down Stolas’ body. “You lost so much, so quickly. And you were off your meds. Anyone would be a mess, honestly.”

Stolas sighed, and, though he didn't look down at Blitzø again, he did lean slightly into his touch—just enough for Blitzø's hand to shift until it was cupping his lower back.

“I still feel like you deserve an apology, though,” Stolas murmured. “I can't have been easy to deal with.”

Blitzø snorted slightly. “‘Bout as easy as it is to handle me on a normal day, to be honest.”

At that, Stolas’ lips quirked slightly upwards, the sight making Blitzø's heart soar higher than he cared to admit.

“Anyway,” Blitzø added, “I'm glad the meds have been helping.” He accepted the cigarette when Stolas passed it and took a drag of it. When he gave it back, he stayed purposefully closer—close enough that he could feel Stolas’ warmth radiating off of him, that his lungs filled with Stolas’ scent with every slow breath. “It's just… it's nice to have you back, Stols.”

A low exhale. With it, Stolas inched ever so slightly closer to Blitzø, until Blitzø's head was almost brushing against his waist.

“It's nice to be back,” Stolas admitted in a low voice.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Blitzø nuzzled Stolas’ waist and rested his temple there, just breathing the owl in, just taking a break from it all.

Even through the sounds of cheering and screaming and fireworks in the distance, he felt so at peace. More at peace than he remembered ever feeling during a New Year Eve.

Not since the fire, anyway.

When he opened his eyes and checked his phone, it was exactly nine minutes to midnight.

Though he didn't mind the silence between them, he couldn't help but break it to ask a low, curious, “Any New Year's resolutions?”

“Hmm?” Stolas asked. “Resolutions?”

Blitzø glanced up at him without moving away from his waist. “Yeah. Don't you have those either?”

“I'm afraid not.” Stolas tossed the cig onto the street below, but made no move to pull away from Blitzø, either.

“Damn,” Blitzø murmured. “So you don't… have any New Year's Eve traditions?”

Stolas didn't immediately reply, fiddling slightly with his fingers as his body tensed a bit.

“The Goetia at large do,” he said, voice low. “Mostly, they use it as one more excuse to throw loud, ostensive parties. Most of them in our ballroom, courtesy of my ex-wife.” At this he paused again, grinding his beak slightly, as thought the sole memory made him uneasy. “I kept to myself when I could help it, though,” he said. And then, in a lower voice still, “Tried to drink enough that I'd remember as little of them as possible.”

“Oh.” Blitzø gulped. He was uncomfortably familiar with what that felt like, and he knew full well what paths that sort of urge to drink your sorrows away could lead down.

He'd recently started to suspect Stolas was no stranger to it, either. He guessed this tiny admission from Stolas confirmed it, at least to some extent.

Blitzø would've much preferred for his suspicions to be wrong.

“How about you?” Stolas asked then. “Any other New Year's Eve traditions, other than setting resolutions?”

“Oh yeah, there's a bunch,” Blitzø said, and Stolas glanced down at him, eyebrow quirked in interest. “Obviously there's the fireworks.”

“Obviously,” Stolas smirked, another round of loud bangs going off in the distance.

“There's a bunch'a songs we sing, too,” Blitzø added. “Specific meals, too, in some rings. And…”

And here he paused, gulping. A quick glance at his watch told him it was four minutes to midnight, and suddenly his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest.

He'd been thinking about it, of course he had. Ever since Stolas had kissed him on Sinsmas, it'd been practically all he could think of.

Still, maybe it was too soon; too quickly after the whole Octavia situation. Maybe it was just better not to bring it up at all. Maybe—

“And?” Stolas prompted, curiosity in his voice as he watched Blitzø expectantly.

“O-Oh, it's nothing important,” Blitzø quickly said. “Just—sometimes, when you're, y'know, spending the evening with the people you love…” Three minutes. Fuck. “There's this tradition to share a kiss. At midnight. On the cheek, if it's like your friend or whatever, or, you know…”

Blitzø couldn't keep going—not when Stolas was looking at him like that. Cheeks all flushed, and eyes so big, those ever-present pupils boring a hole into him as they blinked in slow understanding.

“Oh,” Stolas breathed with a low hoot.

Two minutes.

“That sounds…” Stolas started, seemingly at a loss for words. “Is that something you'd want to—”

“I'm not saying it because we have to—”

They both paused, having talked over each other, and now Blitzø could clearly feel the same heat that was tinting Stolas’ cheeks burning across his own.

Despite his galloping heart, Blitzø couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. Would the two of them ever stop being hopelessly stupid around each other?

He reached up to take one of Stolas’ hands on his own, loving how familiar it felt, how easy it came to him to just run his thumb across Stolas’ knuckles and thread their fingers together.

“We don't have to,” he said again, voice low, eyes carefully searching Stolas’. “Just getting to start the new year by your side is more than enough.”

“But you… want to?” Stolas murmured, almost breathless, like he barely dared to ask.

Blitzø smiled—fondly, sheepishly—and tugged gently at Stolas’ hand.

“I always want to kiss you,” he softly admitted.

Stolas’ whole body was turned towards him now. Another tug at his hand, and Stolas was on his knees, face at Blitzø's level, eyes searching Blitzø's face as a smile spread slowly across his lips.

“If…” Blitzø breathed. “If you want?”

His question was drowned by a blast of fireworks and people's cheers and laughter in the streets.

But Stolas’ gaze was already on his lips, his hand cupping Blitzø's cheek as he closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together softly.

Tracing Stolas’ cheek with his own palm, Blitzø stepped closer and deepened the kiss, humming low in his throat as Stolas’ familiar, warm taste flooded his senses.

Outside, the world celebrated and sparkled and shone. But Blitzø's world was reduced to this. To Stolas’ fingers threading through his back spines to keep him close—to Stolas’ low, contented moan when their tongues pressed together and fell into a well-known dance. To Stolas’ scent, Stolas’ touch, those slender hands roaming down to his waist and circling his lower back to press Blitzø closer to himself.

It felt like several minutes went by before they managed to part from one another, and still they stayed close as they caught their breaths.

When Blitzø opened his eyes, Stolas was smiling.

He looked happy. Happier than he'd looked since the trial, and just—more present. Like the depression fog was finally starting to lift, leaving behind a man that was still riddled with grief, still struggling to find his place, but—ready to find some happiness despite it all. Ready to be here, in Blitzø's arms, and allow himself this moment of comfort and hope.

Blitzø couldn't help it. He pressed his forehead against Stolas', his love for the bird too overwhelming to put into words.

Stolas held him there, a smile still present in his voice when he asked a low, “Any New Year's resolutions, then, darling?”

Smiling, Blitzø hummed in response, running his fingertips through the soft, long feathers at the back of Stolas’ head.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his mind a whirlwind of just Stolas, Stolas, Stolas. “To have more of this with you.”

On AO3

#helluva boss #stolitz #Blitzwhore writes #Written at 4am so I hope there's not like a million typos #Or English mistakes #😂😂#Happy new year!!!! ❤️

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