#What's my trade mark

[familyofpaladins]

for the "what is your trademark" ask game,

i would say submas and ninjago?

oooo thank you anon!!

Submas!! That's nice that's a trade mark for me, despite not doing much with it lately lol

I will say I'm surprised at the ninjago! I know I've reblogged a couple things about it lately, but I havent really been in that fandom much haha.

Unless you meant Lego Monkie Kid, (understandable mixed up. They're both action lego shows) which I am a part of that fandom! :D

[screwpinecaprice]

She's on a hospital bed, amnesiac after an accident and she's having a crush on this man who is apparently her husband.

@dragonuva's part on an art trade with them from last year! 🥰 It's based on the first chapter of Chiptune by Newlense.

Guys. This fanfic is my favorite FAVORITE connverse fic and I love it so much I don't care if the last update was in 2020 nor if it's never going to be continued. It's so tender and the angst whalloped my guts in the right places. 😭💕

[tracle0]

Bird carving

[misbehaving-pet]

The daily life of Daryl, the Pet whisperer

[cryscendo]

kurt hummel in every performance

3x12 - The Spanish Teacher

Don’t Wanna Lose You - Mercedes Jones

[kandicon]

Avatar of the Web who keeps getting mistaken for an avatar of the Stranger because nobody cares to understand the nuance between marionettes and mannequins.

[hella1975]

“hello, it’s maintenance” NOOOOO

[blujayonthewing]

Gimmiiiieee secret for one of those funky gnomes?

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

After her friend and mentor, the circus' escape artist, died in a suspicious water escape accident, Idri's had an intense fear of deep water and of drowning. She doesn't want anyone to know about it partly because she finds it embarrassing, and partly just because it's connected to something painful that she's trying to 'cope with' by just simply Never Thinking About It Ever. She ALSO, more recently, has a more serious but less personal secret, which is that it turns out said mentor was not actually killed in that incident, but that his death was faked by a friend who knew he was being targeted for murder, and secretly took his place... he still has enemies, and fears that if word gets out that he's not actually dead, it might put more of his friends and colleagues in danger. Idri takes his trusting her with this information very seriously, and is determined to never tell a soul.

Melliwyk honestly fucking hates secrets at this point in the adventure, lmao. No more secrets! No fucking secrets forever!! They only ever cause problems she's so sick of things being kept secret for ~good reasons~ that always just make everything worse for no reason!! I mean she probably has some personal things that are private or embarrassing that she wouldn't want people to know about, obviously, who doesn't, but even a lot of those things are either widely known even if not necessarily by her friends (the incident with her former roommate), or things she's told them by now (the fact that her 'hood' is a novelty nightcap enchanted to give the wearer pleasant dreams, and she wears it all the time because she's nightmare-prone, especially when she unexpectedly falls asleep)

Felix went missing for awhile. He has no idea what happened during most of that time, but the last thing he remembers was witnessing a caravan camped just off the road being attacked by.... something. Huge, looming humanoid shapes of pure darkness, seemingly draining the life essence of the people in the caravan. He was spotted before he had a chance to do anything, and a creature grabbed his arm, but a voice called for it to leave him alone... After he woke up, he found his skin had turned completely grey where the creature touched him; it doesn't hurt or feel different in any way, and the mark hasn't spread, although the hand was so big that its print takes up most of his arm. He's been trying to learn literally anything about what he saw and what happened to him, but he hasn't told anybody, and he keeps his arm covered at all times.

Indigo would hate if the truth got out about what happened to their eye, where they now have an obviously false golden one. It's not, like, actually a big deal, but they give a different answer every time anyone asks, so if people knew the truth it would ruin the bit. Indigo lies recreationally so there are a lot of things about their personal life and backstory that they keep dead secret for no other particular reason than that it's fun for them. The only thing cooler than having been mentored by an ancient dragon is casually never ever mentioning it, you know?

ask about my characters! :3c

[taksony-fr]

I’ve been debating on making a lioden sideblog, or maybe even combining that with this one lately bc I want to ramble about lioden stuffs too. But. The lioden side of tumblr looks dead. I was following a few people but they’ve been inactive for a while and i thought, maybe with the twitter shit going on, they’d come back. But no. I think Lioden is dead on tumblr. That or people really just don’t talk to others on there :/

[thefoxesraven]

AftG is definitely your trademark. You're the sole reason it's on my dash fghjklkj

LMAO

I hope you've enjoyed seeing these unhinged gay boys on your dash 🫶🫶🫶

Though if you're into reading maybe take a glance at AFTG way 👀 gotta love sports ball with a side of yakusia.

[4unnyr0se]

❥ timeskip! haikyuu captains matching with you on tinder | tetsuro kuroo

warnings: timeskip! kuroo, fem! reader, reader is his secretary, riding(?), unprotected sex, rough sex, implied multiple orgasms (f! receiving), reader acts innocent but is actually a slut, implied size kink, kuroo is rich asf argue with the wall

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 904

Sports promotions was an easy job once you knew what you were doing and who you were working with. Kuroo, being a former captain of a powerhouse team, already knew the trade fairly well. His division of volleyball promotions worked closely with people he once had games with, it was always a treat to mess with them over an expensive dinner that his company would pay for. There weren’t many women in that field, so whenever one was hired it caused a stir. Kuroo thought that the stir you were causing was stupid, but that was before he saw your pretty face.

You were behind a desk, typing away at your computer. You looked so innocent, humming a little tune as your tiny fingers typed away. He approached your desk and offered you a smirk, introducing himself. He noticed how you blushed when he looked at you, like a fawn being spotted by a wolf in the forest. Fuck, Kuroo thought that was so fucking hot. But he couldn’t do anything about that, he had too much respect for you. You were just so innocent, how could he defile you?

Turns out, you weren’t as innocent as he thought. Kuroo was mindlessly swiping on Tinder when your profile popped up, displaying your curves that were barely concealed by a little red clubbing dress. ‘Only on here for some fun <3’ was all your bio said, and that made Kuroo practically jump out of his bed. His finger slid right on the phone screen and the two of you matched, causing his cock to throb in his sweatpants. Finally, he had a in. 

The harsh cracking of Kuroo’s hand against the supple skin of your ass filled his penthouse apartment, acompanied by the squelching noise of your pussy struggling to take his massive cock deeper. You had barely managed to get the tip inside, using all your strength to hover yourself above his lap. Kuroo leaned against his padded headboard, the same smirk from earlier adorning his face as he watched the lewd display in front of him. You had talked a big game in your earlier messages, so why were you struggling now. Perhaps you had bitten off more than you could chew when you decided to swipe right on his profile. “What, you’re having trouble taking all of me inside you? C’mon now baby, don’t be like that. Getting all shy again?” his words were laced with sarcasm as you shook your head, feeling your quivering legs about to give out. “I-I can take more, promise!”

Kuroo shook his head in disagreement, shifting his hands to they rested on your hips. “You looked so fucking slutty in those photos,” he teased, slamming your hips down further onto his cock. He gave you no time to adjust to his girth of length, breathing in your wanton and painful cries of pleasure and pain. “Gonna fuck you like a slut now, okay princess? Making me do all the work, typical.”

His hands slammed you up and down on his length, using your body like his own personal fleshlight. Your head was thrown back as your eyes focus on the ceiling above you, the chandelier sparking in the candlelight of his bedroom. Your tongue rolled out of your mouth, saliva dripping onto your swollen tits that were so carefully marked with Kuroo’s teeth. Just enough that you could still wear revealing clothes to work, showing the tiniest bit of cleavage.

His cock hit your G-spot perfectly each time, your sobbing cunt pulling him in deeper with each thrust inside of you. “Fuck, you’re fucking milking me baby,” Kuroo groaned, smacking your ass once more. “You want me to fill you up, huh? It that it princess? C’mon now, lemme hear you beg for my cum. Can you be a good little slut and do that, yeah? Don’t keep me waiting.” he punctuated his sentence with an incredible thrust, a wanton moan falling from your bruised lips.

“K-Kuroo! Wan’ your cum, fuck! P-please, please!” you patheically cried out, fingers scrambling for purchase in his mess of black hair. Your moans were so pretty and wet, how could he refuse his adorable little secretary? His release painted your insides with a roar, the warm sensation filling your stomach. He stopped bouncing you on his length, hands falling limp against his sides.

“Fuck,” was all that Kuroo could muster, smiling to himself as you collapsed onto his chest with his cock still nestled deep inside your creamy core. “I never knew you would be such a slut, you know? Thought you were a virgin or something.” he chuckled, kissing the side of your cheek.

“I might as well have been one, you’re fucking insane,” you mumbled against his skin, lifting your face up to look into his golden eyes. Your mascara was running and your hair was a damn mess, but Kuroo thought you had never looked as pretty as you do now. “You gotta give me some mercy next time, okay? Most girls aren’t used to your massive fucking cock.”

“Oh? There’s gonna be a next time?” Kuroo smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at you, causing you to roll your eyes in mock annoyance. 

“Hell yeah there’s gonna be a next time, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” you smirked, playfully nipping at the cartilage of his ears.

“I can’t wait.”

[lovlidollie]

daddy kenji headcanons ☆ｏ(＞＜；)○

kenji sato x fem!reader

rules! super strict rules that he expects you to follow. you’ve got a curfew, a specific bedtime, screen time limitations, he treats you a lot like emi.

he’s got punishments for you as well. for example, if you’re being bratty and don’t want to listen to his warnings, he gets fed up real quick. he’s rolling his eyes and throwing you over his lap before you even know it. you’re left a blubbering, wet mess by the time he’s done with you, ass burning red and face covered in tears.

he knows you don’t drink enough so he has a literal sticker reward station for when you met the water goal he’s set. he rewards you with star stickers, which when you reach a certain amount you can trade for a special prize ;)))

loves marking you up ! hickies, bruises, bite marks are the more primal offences, but he also loves littering you with jewellery. his favourite is a dainty little necklace he got you for your birthday with his initials on the back :3 he wants to make sure everyone knows you’re his !!!

on that note, has a kink for you spending his money. he’s got so much of it, there’s only so many cars he can collect before he’s bored of them, so he’s given you full reign on his card ! you’re allowed to buy whatever you want, so long as you always give him a lowdown on what you’re getting, (he wants to know what his little girl is interested in !!!) and that you purchase all the expensive, skimpy lingerie that he wants to see you in.

on another note, he loves it when you make him cute little bracelets ! he wears them all the time, especially when he’s batting because he knows the camera zooms in on them.

has your initials painted onto the side of his helmet with a little heart.

when you’re over at his house, he wants you only wearing skirts :3 proper pants are banned !! only short, tiny skirts that make it easier for him to bend you over in.

drenches you in designer ! he doesn’t care it you don’t need or want it ; only the best for his baby !!!

he expects ice baths to be ready for him whenever he comes home from a particularly hard match, whether that’s because he’s lost or gotten into another fight. you always give him a shoulder massage, helping uncoil his tense muscles, but it’s not long before he’s asking you to strip and get in with him ! leads to rough bath sex almost all the time and water splashed all over the ground.

needs to let out his frustrations after losing a match, and his favourite way to do it is you ! he’s high on adrenaline and anger, filling up your pretty holes with his big cock and leaving bruises everywhere. he’s so mean with it, so degrading, treating you like a literal sex doll.

harshest, meanest sex with the softest, most loving aftercare !!! “look at your pretty cunt sucking me right, baby. ‘s fuckin’ pathetic. love takin’ daddy’s cock dont’cha? yeah, that’s right, fuckin’ whore.” to “my sweet girl, perfect girl. did so good for daddy. c’mere angel.”

call him ‘daddy’ and pout while looking up at him and he will fold. he’d do anything for you when you give him that face.

fucks your throat hard n fast. his cock’s big, so thick, that when you try wrap your hands around it there’s still a gap. he fills up your mouth so good, forcing himself all the way. you gag and choke around him, cheeks wet and red from how hard you’re trying to be good. he does that thing where he taps the head of it on your lips, telling you to “open up,” with a smirk.

he has a size kink. loves seeing how small you are in comparison to him and his cock. he’s so huge that the first time he tries to fuck you, there’s so much resistance that he can’t even slip the tip in. ends up having to stretch your holes out with his fingers and toys for weeks on end, trying to get you to open up for him. “c’mon sweetheart. you wanna take daddy’s cock one day, don’t you?”

loves fucking you in his jersey. it’s like a physical branding, he’s making you completely his. seeing the ‘sato’ on your back makes him downright feral.

so forward with pda you wonder half the time how he hasn’t been written up for something. he has no problem with shoving his tongue into your throat in public. if he wants to taste you then there’s nothing that can stop him 🤷‍♀️ it doesn’t get much further than a little bit of light groping because you’re still his and he’s still an insanely jealous man ; no one else deserves to see you in that state but him.

let’s you wear whatever you want in public (to a degree). he can fight. he has no problem showing others that you’re his and his alone.

[tracle0]

He can’t forgive you if he already belongs to something else.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hm… Have you ever think about Aventurine, Sunday and Dan heng with fem reader that has chubby cheeks?

When you’re eating, they can’t stop looking at your cheeks that keep puff and being squishy. You remind them of small hamster, really cute.

Give your cheek a playful bite, squish your cheeks like a stressball for him, or nuzzle his cheek against your?

I love chubby cheeks… and my hsr husband and waifu;)

Aventurine would absolutely adore the fuck out of your chubby cheeks, especially when they’re being squished and tugged between his fingers.

It was his favourite pastime that he’d gladly trade everything else for if he ever were to choose to do one thing for the rest of his life.

He’d prod your cheek if you weren’t giving him enough attention for his liking and find himself fascinated at the way they recoiled.

If Aventurine were a cat, you’d be the laser of the laser pointer that he’s trying his hardest to catch because that’s how invested in your cheeks he was.

Now would Aventurine nibble your cheeks? Yes and he would act indifferent about it too as he shrugs his shoulders as a mischievous smile graced his lips. ‘I must’ve mistook your chubby cheeks as a sweet treat, oops.’ He’d say and you knew he wasn’t in any regard remorseful of his actions.

He’d do it again in a heartbeat but he really does love your cheeks and won’t let you or anyone say anything bad about them, ever.

Sunday

Find your chubby cheeks endearing and cute.

He gives your cheeks the most affection, whether it’s kissing them, caressing them with his fingertips or even giving them a playful nibble as he laughs when you squeal.

‘I cannot help it my sweet, your cute plush cheeks were left unguarded to my attack.’ He chuckles as he kisses your cheeks again, loving how they felt under his lips that he couldn’t help but take another nibble.

When he’s stressed, he would sit himself in front of you, hold your face and begins playing with your chubby cheeks with the most focused look on his face. It would’ve been cute if he wasn’t playing with your cheeks as though they were mouldable as clay.

You: hard day sweetie?

Sunday, pinching and prodding your cheeks: what gave that away my beloved.

You: just a guess.

Your cheeks would be aching for days afterwards but at least Sunday makes up for it by massaging them and smothering them in affection.

Dan Heng has found himself developing cuteness aggression because of your cute fucking cheeks! How dare you!

He tries to act nonchalant when staring at you when eating, his eyes focusing in on how your cheeks would puff up, much like a chipmunks would when stuffing their cheeks with food for the winter. However he must’ve not been subtle enough for the lenses of march’s camera with the amount of pictures taken that day.

He just wanted to squish your cheeks really, really badly and maybe even chomp on them a little, a thought brought about thanks to his dragon noodle side, but he restrained himself from doing so out of respect for you and your boundaries.

However don’t be surprised when he goes and nuzzles his cheek against your own in his sleep and purring a little also. He may even lightly bite your cheek in the process while you were unaware, so when you bring up the teeth marks on your cheek, Dan Heng felt his face flush with heat as he looks away from you and scratched his nose.

You knew it was him but found his expressions of getting caught too adorable to scold him for the fact that you now had to spend the day with people asking if you been bitten by a cat or something in your sleep.

‘Yeah…sure.’ You’d trail off as you side glance Dan Heng, who kept his back to you, knowing damn well you were staring at him as his movements came off as more stiff than normal.

[zarameraki]

⁺✩₊📨˚✧ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐝 ⋆｡💵₊✩°

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he's obsessed to the max 𖥔 ceo x assistant 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 loved you for so long 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nanami's first time 𖥔 you talk him through it 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔

: ̗̀➛ words: 5.6k

: ̗̀➛ notes: hey all! sorry for the inactivity. im got reality to handle as well. i promise ill be more active soon. the creativity juices are running on low fuel atm. thanks for all the love and support you have have given me. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!

Nanami couldn’t focus on the meeting.

He never could when you were in attendance, sitting off to the side, diligently jotting notes. His eyes flicked back and forth from the powerpoint presentation to the strand of hair bothering you despite tucking it behind your ear thirty-seven times.

Yes, he was keeping count. 

His dick constrained against his pants when you bit the end of your pen between your teeth, getting a bit of your red lipstick smeared around the tool. He wished he was that pen, with the mark of your lips on his skin instead. He even wished he was your tea mug sometimes. 

Jesus, something was terribly wrong with him. You were wrong for him. He was your boss; you were his assistant. Your relationship was strictly professional—has been for three years now. Three torturous years of admiring you from the sidelines. Three torturous years of hearing you yap about going on dates with random men off the internet. Three torturous years of chafing his dick in the bathroom every morning, noon, and night to the thought of you. 

Your scent, your breaths, your skin, your hair, your eyes, your mouth—God, he loved your mouth—especially when it moved and produced the loveliest sound he’s ever heard. He wanted nothing more than to print you onto his skin for the rest of his life. 

Nanami scowled at the silver-haired intern who kept side-eyeing your cleavage. If only it weren’t for that bastard. Firing him crossed his mind every time he popped up like a weasel, but Nanami needed a solid reason. 

“—that’s alright with you, Mr. Nanami?” 

Nanami’s attention snapped back to the presenter. What was he speaking about? Budget? Strategies for the future? Increases in revenue? Whatever it was, Nanami had one answer. “Yes.” 

“Lovely, we’ll go ahead with the renovations for our research and development department. They’ll be happy to know their resources are being updated!” 

Ah. Well, either way, he could care less. Whatever made his employees happy, he wasn’t afraid to spend a pretty penny. That’s why Nanami Kento was universally loved by everyone. Even his enemies—if he had any to begin with—would be his allies. He didn’t often put himself on the pedestal, but he does admit every now and then, he was a jack of all trades. 

“That was a satisfying meeting, wasn’t it?” you chirped as you both entered the elevator. Nanami caught sight of the silver-serpent catching up and jabbed the button to close the doors. 

Unfortunately, the intern pushed his hand in between and laughed in an annoying sound he called a voice, sending a twitch in Nanami’s eyes. 

“Oh, Satoru!” you greeted, standing closer to his side. 

“Boss,” Satoru said to Nanami, then turned to you, whispering, “Beautiful,” loud enough for him to hear. 

You snorted, waving a hand. “Oh, stop it. I hope the meeting wasn’t too much for you. Lots of changes we’ve made for the fiscal year, huh?” 

Nanami stared bored at the closed doors with the two behind him. 

“You made it easier,” Satoru replied. 

“Were you copying my notes?” 

“Come on, sweetheart. This is corporate. Not college. A little cheating hurts nobody.” 

Nanami heard your uncomfortable chuckle and clenched his fists tight. The word ‘cheating’ was a trigger for you. Your last relationship ended with your boyfriend of three months sleeping with your friend simply because she had more money and didn’t work for someone. Nanami was sure you’d quit and almost placed an offer to give you a proper role in the company, but you brushed it all off by stating how much you cherished being his assistant. He’d fallen madly, madly in love with you. He knew when he’d make you his wife, you’d be the boss. 

“That’s my floor,” Satoru announced. “Let’s do dinner soon, yeah?” 

You simply nodded. 

“Always a pleasure meeting the man of the hour,” the silver-ass said to Nanami before exiting. 

You stepped up to your boss’ side, sighing. “He just doesn’t know when to give up. It’s almost adorable.” 

“I believe ‘agitating’ is the word you’re looking for.” 

You laughed it off. Nanami didn’t think he was particularly a funny guy until he met you. “Satoru’s harmless.”  

“Will you, though?” he asked, clearing his throat. “Go to dinner with him?” 

You glanced up at Nanami, and smiled. He stared straight ahead with a tight tick in his jaw. Your smile broadened. “I’d love to,” you replied, finding his body tense, “but not with him.” 

Nanami slowly dragged his eyes down to you. Your blinks were slow, weighed down by the thickness of your long lashes. His eyes dipped to your lips, then back to your gaze. “Well, I hope you do with someone. Dinner is an important meal of the day.” 

He was an idiot. 

“That’s surprising coming from you, Mr. Nanami.” 

“How so?” 

You shrugged lightly, eyes twinkling. “I’ve never seen you eat dinner, let alone leave the office around that time.”

Nanami adjusted his tie, feeling a bit self-conscious. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to take the plunge. “Well, maybe we should change that.”

Your eyebrow arched slightly, curiosity piqued. “Change what?”

“Since you’re staying late to catch up on work,” he said, his voice steadying, “how about we have dinner here together?”

You paused, surprise flashing across your face before you smiled warmly. “That sounds nice. I could use a break, and it’s been a long day.”

Relief washed over him, and he allowed himself to smile back. “Great. I’ll order something for us. Any preferences?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “I’m fine with anything, Mr. Nanami.”

“Please, call me Kento,” he said softly.

“All right, Kento,” you replied, your tone gentle. “Thank you.”

As he walked out of the elevator, he felt a sense of accomplishment and, perhaps, excitement—an emotion he’d felt strictly in your presence. It wasn’t a grand romantic gesture, but it was a step in the right direction. Tonight, you were his, even if only for a little while. And maybe, just maybe, he'd find the courage to tell you how he really felt.

As the morning passed, he buried himself in his work, but his mind constantly wandered. Every so often, he'd steal a glance in your direction, watching you as you diligently typed away on your computer or answered phone calls. There was something about the way you moved, the way you smiled even when you were focused, that captivated him completely.

Around mid-morning, Nanami's concentration was broken when a male worker from another department walked over to your desk. He was carrying a file, but instead of simply dropping it off, he started chatting with you. The man was smiling, clearly enjoying the conversation. Nanami's grip on his pen tightened as he watched the interaction unfold.

The male worker leaned casually against your desk, making you laugh at something he said. Nanami's heart pounded in his chest. He hated how easy it was for others to make you smile like that. He felt a pang of jealousy, a possessive urge to step in and assert that you were his . . . though you didn't know it yet.

As the conversation continued, you glanced up and caught Nanami staring. Your eyes met, and you smiled softly at him. He quickly looked away, feeling a rush of embarrassment and anger at himself for being so obvious. His face felt hot, and he cursed under his breath, trying to refocus on his work.

The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion. Nanami found it hard to concentrate, his mind continually drifting back to you. He tried to remind himself that he needed to be professional, but it was a losing battle. Every time he heard your laugh or saw your smile, his heart ached with a mixture of longing and possessiveness.

The evening had grown quiet, with the soft hum of office equipment and the distant sounds of the city outside. When the delivery boy finally arrived, Nanami stood up and walked over to meet him.

“Oh, I’ve got it!” you said, standing from your seat and taking out your credit card.

Nanami tapped his card without a second thought; he’d always be willing to pay for anything when it came to you.

“Sir, this was going to be my treat.”

“Next time,” he replied. 

You smiled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Next time, it is.” 

He led the way to his office, opening the door for you. You set the food out on the table, and for a moment, there was an awkward silence as you both settled onto the sofa.

Nanami cleared his throat. “I hope you like what I ordered. I wasn’t sure what you preferred, so I got a bit of everything.”

You smiled warmly, appreciating his thoughtfulness. “This looks great. Thank you.”

You began eating, the silence stretching between you both. Nanami felt frustrated at himself. You’ve worked for him for three years and he still couldn’t harness the ability of speaking to you casually. He wanted to make conversation, to make this moment more comfortable, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. He glanced at you, watching as you took a bite and then met his gaze.

“This is really good,” you said, breaking the silence. “I didn’t realise how hungry I was.”

He smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. “I’m glad you like it.”

You continued eating, the silence now less awkward and more companionable. Nanami stole glances at you, noting the way you enjoyed the food, the way your eyes sparkled even in the dim office light. 

When the last bites were eaten and the containers cleared away, you leaned back in your chair, looking content. “Thank you for this. It was really nice.”

He smiled softly, his heart full. “Anytime. I’m glad we could do this.”

“About damn time,” you muttered. 

Nanami blinked. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, realizing what slipped your mouth. “Mr. Nanami— I— I only meant that—” You surrendered with a sigh, running your fingers through your hair. “Damn it.” 

Licking his lips, Nanami shook his leg anxiously, wondering what exactly you’d meant. Were you wanting to have dinner with him for a while now? A platonic dinner? Or was it, and he could be entirely wrong, more? Were you perhaps . . . also rowing the same boat as him? 

“I should’ve extended an invitation a while ago,” Nanami whispered.

Your eyes locked with his.

“Three years ago, to be exact,” he continued, awaiting your reaction. “In an intimate sense. Or professional, if that’s what you’d prefer. I’m happy either way. Unless this has made you uncomfortable—”

“Kento.”

He stopped to catch his breath. “Yes?”

You reached out and rested your hand on his knee, your eyes moving from his body to his face. “Next time, like you mentioned, can I treat you to dinner at my place?” The caress of your thumb set him aflame—a tiny gesture, yet powerful. “Unless it makes you uncomfor—”

Nanami cupped the back of your head and pulled you into a feverish kiss. He moaned at the first touch, savoring the sweet taste of you, the smoothness of your lips, and the sweep of your tongue against his. He didn’t dare break the kiss, tugging you out of your chair and onto his firm lap. His mouth was everywhere—your jaw, your neck, your collarbones—as he deftly unbuttoned your blouse. He was a madman, lost in the moment.

“I’ll do it,” you chuckled as he fumbled with the clasp of your bra. “I didn’t peg you for an inexperienced man.”

“I’ve been saving myself for—”

“The right woman?” you snorted.

“For you,” he stated firmly, cupping your cheek. “The last three years have been agonising. Whenever you’re near, I can’t focus. Whenever you laugh, I can’t breathe. Whenever some other bastard tries to flirt with you, my sanity chips away until all I want to do is take you away. Mark you as mine.” His possessiveness sent a shiver down your spine, making your back arch. “That’s exactly what I’ll do tonight. Is that okay with you?”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded. “More than.”

“You always know the right thing to say.” He smiled against your lips, slipping off your bra in the process. Through the kiss, you guided his hand to your breast. Just because he was inexperienced didn’t mean you were. Nanami should know by now that you had a little zest in you. “Like this, darling?”

You sighed as he pinched your nipples, his eyes marvelling at the sight of your breasts. “Yeah. You can put your mouth on them, too.”

His lips latched onto your left nipple swiftly. Your fingers buried themselves in the back of his hair as your hips ground against his erection while he nibbled and sucked on your breasts. He left them sore and bruised, kissing his way up to your collarbones, neck, and finally, your desperate lips.

Nanami picked you up with one arm, using the other to swipe whatever papers were on the table onto the floor.

“There are important contracts in there, Mr. Nanami,” you said as he laid you back onto the mahogany surface. “Don’t expect me to clean it up in the morning.”

“You’re the most important thing right now and always,” he replied, loosening his tie and tossing it over his shoulder. “And you will call me by my first name in private.”

You raised an eyebrow, relishing the sight of him slowly exposing his torso, button by button. “Yes, Kento.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, shrugging off his dress shirt and draping himself over you, his fingers gently closing around your neck as he kissed you deeply. “It must be exhausting walking in a tight skirt all day,” he whispered against your lips, finding the zipper of your pencil skirt and lowering it slowly. “If you want, I can change the dress code for my favourite assistant.”

“I’m your only assistant,” you said, letting him remove your skirt. “And I like my tight skirts, thank you very much.”

“I don’t like how the men stare at your back.”

“Sue me for having a perfect ass.”

He shrugged. “You have my lawyer’s contact number.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, which he immediately stole with another kiss. You locked your arms around his neck. “If wearing tight clothes gets me incentives like this, I’ll do it every day.”

He narrowed his brown eyes. “I can’t control your wardrobe choices.” His fingers trailed down your left breast, making your breath hitch as he grazed your sensitive nipples, then continued down to your stomach and under your panties. “But I have full control over your body tonight, yes?”

You pecked his lips. “Absolutely.” 

Nanami wasn’t quite rubbing your clit—it felt rather ticklish. “You’re making a face. Am I doing something wrong, darling?” 

“Not exactly.” You found his hand between your legs and lifted it higher, pressing his fingers directly onto your clit. It was embarrassing how wet you already were. “Rub here.” 

He rubbed there, and you took in a shuddering breath, nodding to encourage him to keep fucking me with those skilled fingers, Nanami Kento—fingers you had admired far too often, especially when he performed pen tricks with them.

“How many . . . erm, how do I word this?” He looked conflicted as he murmured words to himself. 

“What? I won’t judge.” 

Nanami looked adorable when flushed. “How many fingers would you like . . . inside of you?” 

You pressed your lips together, holding back laughter at his reddened face. This was the first time you'd be taking a man's virginity, and you wanted to make sure it was as good for him as it would be for you. “I can take three.” 

“Wow,” he breathes out, clearing his throat. 

“I’ve taken a fist before.” 

His eyes widened in shock. “I’m sorry?” 

You laughed, cupping his face. “I’m just joking. I only wanted to see your reaction.” He was still flabbergasted as you kissed him. “But it is possible. I wouldn’t suggest it right now.” 

“Right now,” he repeats. Yes, right now. Eventually, you’d want his whole damn fist inside of you. “I’ll start with two.” 

“Middle and ring finger. Never index. It’s a rookie mistake.” 

“Of course.” Nanami relieved your clit and slid down your centre. “God, you’re soaking my hand, darling.” His words sent a ripple through you. Then his fingers slowly slid inside your tight heat, making him grunt. 

“How is it?” you whispered, massaging the back of his head while the other rested on the side of his neck. 

“Warm,” he said. “And . . . clamping?” 

This was entertainment for you. 

“Warm and clamping is one way to describe it. You can start moving your fingers in and out of me. Curl them, tap them, whatever you want.” Your tongue licked his upper lip, surprising him. “And if you want to blow my orgasm through the roof, circle your thumb on my clit. Don’t hold back.” 

And he didn’t. 

Nanami drove his fingers inside your pussy, unknowingly hitting your g-spot, and flinching when you cried out his name. The pad of his thumb rubbed your clit, or if he complained about a cramp, he’d used the mound of his palm, cupping your entire vagina. 

“I’m close—” You let out strained breaths, gripping his hair or shoulders. 

“Close to what?” 

“You’re going to make me say it?” 

Nanami appeared genuinely puzzled. “Close to your orgasm?” Oh, my god. He was genuinely puzzled. Why wouldn’t he be? You couldn't expect him to know about even the most obvious sex-related things. Part of you was excited to show him your vibrator and have him guess what it was. 

“Yes, Kento. I’m close to my orgasm.” 

He grinned with pride. Your heart melted, and you grabbed his face, kissing him as if your life hung in the balance. Amid his fervent moans, you came gushing down, drenching his hand with your release.

Pulling his hand out, he stared at your orgasm. “That’s quite a lot.” 

“Oh, my god, stop.” You covered your face, suddenly embarrassed by how much you’d come. 

“I’m sorry, darling. I meant it in a positive way. I’m very flattered. And thankful that you taught me how to please you this way.”

You caught him about to lick his fingers, causing you to shout in protest and pull his wrist back sharply. “No!”

“What? What is it?” 

“You can't just— You're all about cleanliness and stuff. I don't want you breaking your own rules for that.” 

Nanami smiled. “I’d break all my rules for you.” He went to go lick again, but you quickly pulled his hand towards your chest and wiped it on there. His face contorted to frustration. “What the fuck?” 

Your brows shot up. This was the first time you’d heard him curse. It was so hot. You wanted him to say it again. “It’s dirty.” 

“It’s a part of you.” He made a tch sound and retrieved his tie from the floor. “Give me your hands.” Taking your wrists, he bound them with the material behind your waist.

“Kinky,” you said. 

Nanami stayed silent, his expression now one of disappointment, his brows furrowed deeply. The confusion that once marked his demeanor had given way to a completely different persona. “If you won’t allow me to taste you from your hands”—he pushed your ankles up on the desk and sank between your legs—“I’ll drink straight from the source.” 

“Kento, wait—”

Too late. 

You broke into a chorus of moans as his tongue licked and lapped at your pussy. His mouth engulfed your clit and sucked on it hard, the tip of his tongue now swirling the little bud. His fingers spread your folds, as he cleaned every last drop of your juices, even probing your little hole that they seeped from. 

By the end of it, you were drenched in sweat, tears brimming in your eyes, your wrists throbbing from the restraints. Your body swayed side to side, legs trying to close him away, but he remained persistent in eating you out like a madman.  “Ken . . . I can’t—”

“Have you learned your lesson?” 

“Yes, goddamn it. Yes. I’m sorry.” You would let this man lick your whole body from now on. “Just kiss me already. Please.” 

He kissed your clit and travelled up to your stomach, each nipple, and to your mouth as he undid the tie so you could cling to him. His mouth met your wet eyes. “I’m sorry, darling. I got carried away a bit.” 

“No, don’t be. I loved it.” You planted a kiss on his cheek, making him smile bashfully, just like he had ten minutes earlier. “But I’d prefer someone else to touch me now.” 

His gaze grew intense. “Who?” 

You blinked. “Your friend.” 

He scoffed, running his fingers through his hair. “My— My friend?” 

“Uh, yeah?” 

“Have you spoken to him before?” 

You eyed his prominent bulge. “I’d like to. Touch him, kiss him, have him inside of me.” 

Nanami stared at you with disbelief. “No.” 

“No?” 

He gritted his jaw, fists at his side. You were completely frazzled by his response. Why was it that he got to explore your inside with his fingers and tongue and wouldn’t allow you to touch him? 

“That’s not fair. I thought you wanted me,” you mumbled. 

“And yet you want my friend,” he replied sharply. “Haibara will be disappointed to know that I don’t share.” 

Huh?

“Haibara?!” you shrieked at the highest decibel, jolting him. “Hai— Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Kento, you id— That’s not what I meant when I was referring to your friend.” How is this man running a multi-million dollar corporation? “I was talking about your penis. Dick. Cock. Whatever you prefer.” 

Nanami stood in stunned silence. His anger melted away, replaced by a sudden realization, his eyes darting upward. “Oh.” 

You’d had enough. If he prolonged your orgasm any further, you were going to get a female version of blue-balls. “Come here, you doofus.” You pulled down by his collars and kissed him, undoing his belt, button, and zipper for him. “Can I touch your dick, Mr. Nanami?” 

He nodded vigorously. 

You rolled your eyes, smiling, and slid your hands into his boxers, grabbing him. “Oh, God. I knew it. You’re so big.” 

“You knew it? Has it been on your mind?” 

“Ever since my interview. No one asked you to manspread. It drove me crazy. Made me stumble on my words.” You stroked him slowly, dissolving him in a sea of grunts and groans. “Be honest, did I get this job because you were attracted to me, or because I’m genuinely good at what I do?” 

Nanami pondered for a moment before responding, “Both?”

“Of course you chose the safest answer.”

“Well, you’ve managed my schedule flawlessly for three years. You handle all my emails, make the best coffee, and surprise me with treats. Yes, you’re undeniably beautiful, but it’s your heart that I’ve fallen in love with.”

Your hand froze. “Love?”

He nodded, a blush colouring his cheeks as he looked away. “Love.”

You cupped his face with both hands. “You love me?”

Another nod. “Since your interview.”

He had loved you for three years now. It seemed surreal. You liked him, certainly, but did you love him too? That was the question. Your mind had always assumed he would never see you romantically, so you held back from letting your feelings grow.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Nanami reassured you. “I’ve loved you enough for both of us for far too long. I can wait until you’re ready.” He kissed your forehead gently. “But please, don’t make me wait forever. I don’t want us to stay strictly professional. I want to take you out, make you my girlfriend as soon as possible. Eventually, make . . .” He paused, unsure where to place his hands, before settling on your shoulders. “Make you my wife.”

Oh, you were about to give him the best blow job ever. 

“Okay,” you whispered, stepping down from the table and taking his hands. “Let’s go on a date tomorrow, the day after, and every day after that. I want to be your girlfriend by next week— I’ll add it to your personal calendar. And I want dinner and wine at your place afterwards. Speaking of your place, I want to move in with you by the end of next month, or we can live in my shitty apartment— I don’t mind. You have to make me your wife next year instead of making me wait three more years. And I want two kids somewhere down the line. Oh, and a cat.” You grinned widely at his stunned expression. “Can you give me all that, Kento?” 

He breathed out heavily, nodding slowly. "Yes," he affirmed. His lips found yours. "Yes. I can. I will. I'll give you whatever you need." He kissed you without restraint, laughter filling his office like a contagious joy.

“Okay, okay.” You gently pushed him back by his shoulders and settled him into his seat. “Prepared to have your mind blown, Mr. Nanami.” Kneeling down, you kissed his thigh, tracing a path up to his hip bone.

His breaths came out laboured, short, as he watched your intentions with a hawk eye. 

You took him out of his boxers and prepared your poor throat. It was long and girthy, your fingers barely curving around it. Your tongue ran over his tip, collecting the salty, pre-cum leaking from there. 

Nanami hissed, gripping the armrests of his chair as he spread his legs wider. “Will this be painful?”

You looked up from under your lashes. “I'll do my best not to use my teeth by mistake.”

“I meant for you, darling.”

“One way to find out.” Your lips curved over the head of his cock, lowering yourself until his length was tickling the back of your throat. Nanami was in shambles already. You pulled back and licked him from his base to the summit. “You’re so warm, too. So hard.” Your hands sailed up his thighs, kissing his rigid length. “All for me.” 

“For you, darling.” He brushed your hair back from your face. 

Chuckling, you took him into your mouth again and sent a prayer you didn’t wake up with a sore throat. You could easily picture Nanami purchasing cough drops for you, brewing tea, and insisting you take a day off. The idea of him looking after you sent shivers down your spine.

Nanami gripped the sides of your head, his own tilted back as he breathed heavily through those flawless lips. Occasionally, he'd bravely look down and catch your gaze, then quickly avert his eyes to the ceiling. It was adorable how he struggled to maintain eye contact with you. You had assumed he avoided it because he wasn't interested in talking to you or listening to you yapping. It all makes sense now.

He's simply shy. And you're determined to coax him out of his shell, or even better, cozy up inside it where it's safe.

“The sounds you’re making,” he breathes out. The sounds you’re making, Kento. “It feels like you’re taking me deeper.” 

Because you were. You expanded your jaw, even hearing a little joint tick, and pushed him past the limit of your throat. You’d given blow-jobs before, but the guys were either too small, or too aggressive, leaving your scalp numb without any aftercare. 

Nanami was different. He left your hair and held your face, thumbs caressing your cheekbones as he struggled against his restraints. You could feel him twitch in your mouth, feel the veins pulse on your tongue, his sacs hot at your touch. 

But you wanted Nanami to come inside you. 

At the last minute, you drew him out of your mouth, the strings of your saliva and his pre-cum bridging from your lips and his tip. Nanami groaned at the sight, his dick twitch involuntarily, standing long and proud. 

“I want you inside of me now,” you whispered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and sitting on his lap. He pulled your lips in for a kiss as you adjusted his tip at your entrance, sitting down on it in one go. A cry ripped from your aching throat; a loud growl from his. “Fuck, Kento. Your cock’s filling me up.” 

“Such a dirty mouth,” he muttered, hand on your nape while the other guided your rolling hips. “Does it hurt?” 

You chuckled, head shaking. Your forehead rested over his palms on the side of his neck as you bounced on his lap, your movements growing faster. He was stretching you out, the tip poking your womb, practically splitting you in half. 

Nanami, on the other hand, was on cloud nine. You were warm and sticky, your walls cushioned and clamping around him, sucking him deeper by the second. He’d dreamt of this every night, jerking himself off to the thought of you, recalling the sound of your laugh, or your floral scent. 

Right now, his name slipped off your tongue and you smelled like him. Sweaty, breathless, moaning. This is exactly how he wanted you. Needed you. You were his assistant. His woman. His lover. If any other man dared to touch you, or flirt with you, he’d fire them. He wished he could kill them instead. 

You had awakened his territorial, possessive side, consuming him completely. If his parents refused to accept you as his equal, he would abandon everything and find happiness elsewhere with you. But first, he was determined to fight for you with all his might. Damn it, he loved you.

“I’m tired,” you whispered, wincing as you tried to mill your hips forward again. “Oh, no. I’m cramping up.” 

Nanami hated that he didn’t know what to do. He wished he was experienced. He wished he didn’t have to rely on you even if it was a turn-on when you dominated him with your words and actions. “Stop and take a breather.” 

You obeyed, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

He grabbed the globes of your ass and stood up, walking over to the couch and laying you down there. “Is this better?” 

“Yes.” You stretched up your arms then wrapped it around his neck, giving him a long, loud smack of a kiss. “Proceed.” 

Nanami chuckled, caressing your cheek. He thrusted inside of you, pulling himself to the tip, then back inside. It seemed to have you making those needy sounds, so must’ve been on the right track. 

“You’re so handsome,” you whispered, locking eyes with his deep brown gaze as he intensified his movements, growing faster and more forceful. “Yes, yes, yes. Oh, god. Ken—” You were cut off by his kiss, by his hand clutching your breast, pinching your nipple. 

“I love you,” Nanami murmured, kissing your throat and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You cupped the back of his hand, wailing moans as he pounded into you, flesh slapping against flesh. “I love you, darling. I love you so much.” 

“Kento.” You were feeling achingly sore, your legs losing sensation. He was rutting into you like a madman, and no, you did not want him to slow down whatsoever. “Kento!” 

He drew his face back. “Yes?” 

“I love you, too,” you cried out as you climaxed, your back arching off the couch’s surface. 

Nanami crashed seconds later. 

You were both a breathless, sticking, sweaty mess. Nothing but the sounds of your rapid hearts and shallow breaths could be heard. 

Nanami slid out of you after a minute of silence. He was glowing, golden hair damp with sweat and sticking in different directions from your hand that was running through it. He parted your legs and watched both your mingled release leaking out of you. “I did that.” 

You burst out laughing. “Thank you for letting me take your virginity.” 

He scowled at you, the kind where a smile creeped on his lips. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

“No, lay with me for a sec.” 

Nanami listened attentively and settled beside you on the couch, pulling you into his embrace. You showered kisses over his face, jaw, and the corners of his smiling mouth. “You said ‘I love you,’ by the way.” 

“I did.” Another peck landed on his lips. 

He swallowed, his eyes sparkling as they met yours. “Are you sure?” 

“One-hundred-infinite percent.” You fixed his hair away from his forehead, running your index finger down the slope of his nose and to his lips. “Say it back.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.”

Nanami sighed contentedly, his hand cradling the back of your head as he planted a kiss on your forehead. You giggled and nestled your cheek against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I know you said to wait until next week to make you my girlfriend, but is it alright if I make you mine now?” 

“I am already yours.” You drew hearts on his torso, feeling shy all of a sudden. You’d never been in a proper relationship before. But neither had Nanami. Which meant you’d both navigate your relationship together as novices. 

“Officially?” He continued. “Or I can wait—”

“Yes,” you said, craning your head up. “I’d love to officially be your girlfriend, Kento Nanami.” You savoured the relieved breath he took. How could you ever reject a soul like his? He was your favourite person. “But I’m still your assistant.” 

“And now I’m yours.” 

You laugh and rest your nose in the curve of his neck, closing your eyes. He hugged you close, lips lazily kissing the top of your head. “Get as much rest as you can, Boss Man. Round two is in five minutes.” 

[hellenhighwater]

What's your decision making process like for thrifting pieces? I've started looking at thrifting more earnestly, and at antiques in particular to add a bit more character to my otherwise midcentury-influenced space, but I always struggle with envisioning if a piece will "go" with everything else. But you seem like you've got the mixing and matching of pieces down pat, do I'd love to hear your thoughts!

I've gotten a bunch of asks in this vein so I'm going to go a little broader than this ask to cover the general topic.

On a purely practical level, you need to know what you have. I keep what I call a house journal, which is a notebook where I've drawn out room layouts, with measurements for available space, lists of what I'm looking for, dimensions for things like doorways (do not buy anything larger than your doorways) and even fabric and paint swatches. I also keep a digital photo album of house pictures, so if I'm trying to see if something will go, I don't have to rely entirely on memory.

So, important note: my background is not in interior design--it's in set design, studio art, and graphic design, so for me, I fall back on narrative. When you're designing interior spaces for theater or film, the room is not primarily functional: it is, first and foremost, an extension of the character that inhabits it. The room exists to tell you about the person in it.

And often, that's the tack I take in my house--not using my home as a framing device for myself, but for imagined characters. For example, my living room is The Adventurer, or the Archaeologist. The character for that room is someone from decent money in the late Victorian period, the sort of person who spent their live traveling for no particular reason, and brought home all manner of oddities. The room is rich in color and texture; the furniture is mostly late 1800s, and it's both formal and lived in. Choosing things for this room, I ask if that character would own that object. I also used unifying wood tones, and a similar depth of color, to tie things in. Pick a color palette and stick to it.

My drawing room is the Alchemist. There are lots of celestial elements, but it's a workroom, so most of the furniture is very practical and simply designed. It's beaten and worn in, showing marks of use. There is lots of storage, and curious little things in jars, and plants and bones and the tools of my trade. The Alchemist uses this space to make impossible things.

The question then is not "does this match" but "would the character that embodies this space choose this? Why? What does it say about them?"

And what all of that tells you about me, is, well....I don't know, really?