#again. there's no easy change-your-life solution | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

auragasmics · 7 months ago

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HIS PATIENCE IS MY VIRTUE!

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ synopsis! with work piling up and stress reaching its boiling point, Nanami needs a break. And when his pretty assistant suggests a trip up to Kyoto for the hot springs, he’s taking the chance to spoil you, love you, and turn his 3-year spout of patience into your virtue!

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ pairings! assistant!fem!reader x sex therapist!nanami kento

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ cw! 17.3k, pwp, age gap (reader is 26, nanami is 28), use of petnames, use of alcohol, splashes of fluff, (if you squint), solo play (male), voice kink, features a conversation with gojo satoru, cumshot,, handjob, oral(f.receiving), hand job, p in v, unprotected, sensation play(heavy), biting, doggystyle, prone bone, cowgirl, slow sex, needy!nanami, Nanami has a sir kink, implied aftercare

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ xoxo, chris! yessss it’s done! 17.3k of filth and it’s all dedicated to my man! thanks to my lovely friend and beta-reader @n3vr-f0und ! this could not have been possible without you! this goes out to all the nanami girlies, i love our man!

tags: @lalunanymph @4-leafed

He’s asleep again.

Through the slivered crack of his office, your eyes dwell upon Nanami’s slumbering form, casted beneath the glowing embers of daylight. He relied on his folded arms for a makeshift pillow, uncaring of the tousled golden strands of hair that lay waste about the top of the waxy oak desk.

He’s definitely sleeping—and has been for a while.

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh, the breath fueled by concern. You could’ve warned him every morning at the start of the workday and every night right before rush hour began, during rush hour, but he never listened.

For the three years you’ve been under his employment, there was always a single trend that never seems to hint at change: Nanami never knows what exhaustion is until he’s caught in its grasp with heavy eyelids and a slack jaw of yawns.

And there’s one extra detail you know about Nanami is that he hates working overtime—but does it anyway.

Originally when you first joined his side, you thought the job of a sex therapist was an easier task than most; he’d have an easy job; listening and finding a solution for others. After just one day of work with him, such a brazen thought was put to rest. Since that day, you’ve rewritten a new script in your mind, one free of judgment and assumption, because in turn, the job of a sex therapist was not easy.

And for a sex therapist like Nanami who lacked compassion for himself, empathy and compassion for his clients claimed all his time. His days were spent in appointments and his nights were spent in books, nose-deep in pages of delegated knowledge searching for a solution. That was the role Nanami took on, the role of being a compassionate problem solver.

Compassion comes at a price, and his compassion costs him every ounce of his livelihood. Taking on a role that would reap no inherent benefits meant Nanami was always giving from an empty cup, using his blood, sweat, and tears to refill every drop he’d given away.

He rebukes his efforts, truly. Yet, such innate dislike had never once interfered with his determination.

It’s written all over his face once he’s done with a meeting, it’s draining work. It drains him of all his physical, emotional, and psychological energy, but he still wears a smile as a mask in time for the next session.

If eyes can tell a story, then Nanami’s oak brown hues scream out a soliloquy that falls on deaf ears. Inside bleeds out and his story tells of a man who wishes to give up his life for the mundane. To spend his days basking beneath the sun, using the purest white sands as a mattress for his dream life.

Such a shame that the man’s only wish has yet come to pass.

For now, he’s come to terms with it, filling the pit of ever-growing resentment with work.

It’s exactly why he’d be in and out of meetings with clients, spending late nights on the phone. Some days you even come into work to find him asleep in his office with papers scattered about his desk.

His philosophy was simple, if he couldn’t enjoy the deepest desire to the fullest, the least he could do was help those struggling with the same reality.

But as you watch him from the sidelines, a question plaques your mind: when will it end?

It’s redundant, but the question puzzles you every day. It rules over your mind even now as you scan over his sleeping figure. Standing along the door’s trim, you couldn’t help but admire how precious Nanami appears under such temperate conditions.

Quiet steps deliver you just inches from him, granting you to play the role of a jury to a trial of a self-committed crime.

Yet, the criminal in question glows beneath the ebbing light, his skin drinking in the rich hues of pink, gold, orange, and purple. His uniform binds him to his crime, his white sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his black slacks melding within his leather seat.

Though he committed a crime, there’s one detail that turns this prisoner into a charmer; and that’s the way he wears sleeps. The heft of his slumber can be narrowed to a point, down to his pursed lips, such pink velvety plush begging for a kiss of life.

Pity stains your heart like ink to a scroll, and it’s bleeding through in a passing heat. No fiber in your being could allow you to leave him alone, not when nothing but four lonesome walls and pestering neighbors await you.

Pity carries a weight over its residents, and you were no different. It’s because of how heavy pity is that your hand breaks away from your side, reaching out to curl a loose lock of blonde strands around your finger. Even his hair’s soft, lacing around your skin like the finest silk. Now that you've captured a clearer picture of him, you can’t help softening your gaze over Nanami.

Was Nanami always this attractive? Even in his sleep, he possesses skills to lure you into a trance. Such smooth fair skin, a sculpted jaw clenched in sleep, his cheekbones perched high, and the dark rings beneath his eyes add a shameful appeal to him.

Trailing along his form, you’re stuck at how the burly swell of his arms tests his white dress shirt, the cotton fabric choking at the seams. His shirt just barely hides his broad shoulders, carrying the careful cuts of muscle that rise with every breath he takes.

“If only you would share your stress with me, Nanami,” the words whispered out into the tepid air.

Your hand falls from his distressed bed of hair, the back of your hand dusting past the fishnet stockings beneath your red cocktail dress. The time’s come to wake him up….and hope that he’s as docile as ever.

A deep breath takes you far, your hand resting along his shoulder. It’s rigid, thick muscles that refuse to conform to your touch. The lump in your throat bloats up and you ease his shoulder to rock beneath your hand.

“...Nanami…Nanami, sir…,” you coo, “You’ve gotta wake up. I’m sure this desk isn’t as comfy as your bed.”

A low grumble acts as a response, Nanami shuffling about his makeshift pillow. His hands hide beneath his cheek, his laxed palms curling up into loose fists as he struggles to sit up.

As a courtesy—or more so out of nervousness; you step away from him with your hands behind your back, allowing Nanami to grasp his hazy surroundings alone.

“Wha…What happened?” He rasps lowly, his words served with sleep’s baritone curl.

“Um...Sir?”

“Huh? Oh, did I fall asleep here again? That’s the third time this–hold on…” Nanami trails off, his raspy voice breaking through the air.

He’s hazy and those clouded hazel hues trickle onto you as he shifts towards you, his black leather chair swiveling under him.

“Oh…what’re you still doing here? It’s way past the end of your shift, Sweetheart.”

Nanami watches you bite at that delicate lip of yours, supple plush taking on the jagged impressions. That mindless tick melds into a blooming pout, a decoy for the words that toss his groggy mind off guard.

“Nanami, sir, I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore!”

He’s dumbfounded, a rare state for him, but only you alone manage to pull Nanami into a place of confusion. A hand of his drifts to the back of his neck, itching at the sparse hairs of his undercut, trying to make sense of your outburst.

“And what exactly am I doing to myself?”

“This!” You point to his body, “This, in fact, is the third time this week you’ve slept in your office. And it’s been at least ten times this month! You’re tired, and you need a real break.”

Gawking is all Nanami can do. It comes at the price of a complete loss for words, but in some strange way, he’s intrigued by your outcry. Him needing a break? Of course, he needed a break, but he’s interested to hear what you perceive to be this “break”.

“A vacation is what you think I need?”

“I know a vacation is what you need…but I can’t force it on you,” you sigh, taking wandering steps that land you into the grand armchair sitting opposite to him.

With you seated before him, Nanami shudders beneath the stress of containing himself.

Oh, he hates it when you get mad—but loves it all at the same time. It’s a parallel that consumes him, hating how anger sews along your precious features—while relishing it all the same.

It’s the woe of taking every word you say seriously while admiring those plump lips bearing a firm purse and your finely plucked brows knit a harsh crease into your face.

And when you do get upset—whether it be at a client, the printer…or in rare cases, him. And when you get like this at him, he knows that a lecture can’t be too far off.

“Sir, you’ve got to take better care of yourself! You can hide it from the clients, but you can’t hide it from me. But…I think I have a solution!”

“Which is?” He contemplates with a brow quirked.

Resting his chin along the back of his knuckles, Nanami relies on the strength of his propped arm for support as he delves into your mind.

He knows the expression he’s giving isn’t kind—dull eyes that reek of disinterest. And all the while, maybe it is disinterest because he’s all too aware of what he needs. But your intentions are pure, that much he knows. In the face of pure intentions, who was he to deny your presentation?

You drop your attention to Nanami’s desk, prompting him to follow suit. He studies your manicured finger carefully dragging along the wide calendar laid atop the waxy surface.

“This weekend from Friday to Sunday, you’ll be all free! I know you like to have at least one client a day, but I pushed some days around and managed to—”

“You were planning this…weren’t you?” Nanami hints sharply, his lungs prepping to bore a longing sigh.

To feign innocence, you shrug your shoulders. You hide your motives well, but the small smile around your eyes tells Nanami all he needs to know.

“No comment, buuut, why not take advantage of this?”

Out comes that sigh brewing in his chest. “All right…What do you recommend I do with all the magical free time? Pick up a hobby? Start a garden? Tell me, Darling.”

Nanami’s sights carry to your own, his eyes pivoting over your face deep in thought. Something about you working so hard on his behalf brings about a warmth to flutter in Nanami’s chest. As to how he’s been blessed with you is a mystery he thanks the heavens for every day. And you look so cut–

“Got it!” you snap, “Onsen. I think you need an onsen for the entire weekend. The hot water and minerals will do your body, mind, and spirit justice!”

Nanami tilts his head at the thought, “Hmm, the onsen? Like out in Kyoto?”

“Mhm, I hear those are really nice!”

“Hm, okay then…”

Nanami swiftly dips into his back pocket for his wallet. He flips the thick bundle of leather open, pinching at his card with a single digit and his thumb.

He places a matte black card in front of you, rattling off the steps to make your wish come true. “Go ahead and book the room and two tickets for the train tomorrow at nine, and—”

“Hold on, hold on! Are you inviting me to come along too?”

Nanami merely shrugs at your sweet naivete, “Naturally. I’m sure you’d want to come along too…unless I’m stepping over a boundary. I never asked if you had prior engagements or even a partner at home. But…if you could join me, I think the break would be good for you too.”

Your hands wave the infamous white flag of surrender, shooting down Nanami’s suggestions with a flustered chuckle, “Oh no no…just me at home! But um…yeah, I’ve never been to one. I’d love to come along. But for tomorrow…I’d have to start planning right away!”

“We could…do it together. I have my laptop right in my bag,” his shoulder nudging towards the side of his desk. “I know it’s last minute, so the least I could do is offer some help.”

Nanami struggles to hide the grin that teases his lips when you agree, taming his excitement with a guttural grunt of his throat.

Three whole days with you, the pretty assistant he’s been plotting on since the day he hired you.

As rambles fall from your mouth, Nanami’s absorbed into thoughts of you, while supporting your thoughts with nods and gentle hums. He hasn’t been so outward with his growing affection towards you at all, that simply wasn’t his style.

But has he tried?

Of course, by taking you out to high-class restaurants for lunch and dinner, buying you flowers every week (and blaming it on some client with a crush for you), he’s even found a way to secretly link your account to his so that not a dollar of your hard-earned money would enter the cruel economy. Why if Nanami could go as far as to pay your rent, he’d do it without any questions asked.

And now he has the chance to take you out of the city for three whole days?

Nanami wasn’t sparing a single penny, not when it came to booking that private villa with its own hot spring bath, the best seats on the bullet train, and even planning some excursions to explore Kyoto.

“…Nanami…Sir?”

The call of his name brings him back into the present and on your face wearing a giddy grin.

“Mm…so sorry, is everything alright?”

“Yup! We’re all set for this weekend!” you cheer, clapping your hands softly at the confirmation prompt on the laptop on the screen.

“Oh good! Well then, let’s break for tonight! Be at the station by eight-thirty, okay?” Nanami passing on a stern stare to you.

“I got it, but that’s so early!”

“It’s a two-and-a-half-hour ride, we’ll be getting there right around lunch and with plenty of daylight to spare. Stop complaining and go home…I’ll see you tomorrow,” Nanami huffs out.

His eyes follow you as you lazily pull yourself out of the chair, your hands smoothing down the back of your dress. The steps you take are slow and saucy, leaving Nanami to bite down on his bottom lip.

Such a tease and you weren’t doing it on purpose. You’re just yourself and that’s exactly what Nanami can’t get enough of.

You turn back to Nanami when you pull the door just enough to slip your body through, your lips curling into a fine smile.

“Have a good night…Sir. See you tomorrow!”

“Have a g-good…Have a good night!” Nanami rushes out, giving you a limp wave before the shutting door leaves him alone with his thoughts.

An exhausted sigh rips out from his chest as he leans back into his chair, his hand racing to palm his face.

And in between the gaps of his thick fingers, Nanami’s eyes darted down to a familiar but embarrassing scene.

His cock twitching in his pants.

He couldn’t help it, hearing his name matched with the weighty title of sir sent his mind on a rampage. You calling him sir? And it just so happens to sound so melodic rolling off your tongue?

It already wasn’t normal for someone in his position to be head over heels for his assistant—but he was. It wasn’t normal for Nanami to give in to such silly whims—but he’s going to.

Before thinking it over, Nanami’s hand drops from his face and down to his lap, squeezing at the curious curve rising beneath the black fabric of his slacks.

“...maybe just one can’t hurt…right?”

A rhetorical question, he’s already tugging at the tiny zipper, pulling the slip of metal down its jagged path to its post. He switches over to fiddling with his pants button, yanking the thin button through its slit and tugging his pants down his legs with his briefs in tow.

There’s a risk that some of those sinful moans will evade his resolve; it’s just his luck that his dress shirt’s objecting to the view of everything past his waist. Yanking the shirt up towards his awaiting mouth, Nanami bites down on the white cotton as hard as he can.

He doesn’t hesitate to envelop his length in a fist, strumming up and down all eight inches of his pudgy tanned girth. It’s been a while but Nanami still knows what gets him going—a couple squeezes, focusing on his sweet spot, tracing that one swollen vein ruched along the heavy underside of his cock, all the turning cogs that bring him to ruin.

As he’s taking the time to swipe at the weeping bellhead, a thought pops into his head that he can’t ignore.

He can’t help but wonder what would you think of his dick? A sinfully precarious thought, he knows, but that doesn’t mean he can’t think about it nonetheless.

He’s no stranger to the concept either. Especially when he takes to the bars some evenings, his ears pick up all the talk of drunk girls gossiping about how “pretty” their boyfriends’ dicks are. It’s so vulgar then but now…he’s craving to hear your thoughts more than anything.

What would you have to say about his size, his length, the way his cock sits with a curve that defies gravity? Suddenly, he’s choreographing a scene in his head, picturing you on your knees, patiently waiting for him to rip down his briefs and expose himself to you.

At the thought, he’s picking up a slow pace. His taut fist lazily drags up his shaft and down to the base, utilizing a deathly grip that sends shivers down his spine.

Just for this special occasion, he pulls his shirt from his clenched teeth for a moment to curl over his thighs. Through the pucker of his lips, Nanami sends a thick spool of spit to dance over the flushed head of his cock, the soapy pool dribbling down his length.

His hand meets the trail of spit gradually, his thumb back to swiping along his now glossy underside.

“Oh fuck…” he hisses, writhing in his seat at the new sensation claiming his being. Just stroking himself was decent but stroking himself when he’s dripping like this makes for a new cadence to be found.

Why, it’s so much better that he’s eagerly picking up the pace, his fist sent to swivel up and down his endlessly hardening cock, squeezing at the tip whenever he saw fit.

His eyes risk exiting the scene, fluttering back with the mean strides he weaves. Just to his dismay, a flickering light pairs annoyingly well with the vibrations of a call cursed Nanami’s chance at relief.

He usually isn’t this careless, picking up the phone call without identifying the caller.

“Hello?” He drones into the microphone.

And it’s just his luck that it’s you.

“Hi, Sir! I had a question…”

Sir. Three letters, a single syllable, and the key to Nanami’s lustful demise. If only you knew the filthy hold that ghastly word held over him.

Just by hearing your sweet voice utter such a word, lawless pangs laid waste to Nanami’s fisted cock in sinful bliss. Was this some form of karmic reward? To hear your voice right before indulging in himself had to be some prize.

He’s forced to bite down the groans in his throat and trade his cries for coherent words. “Wha…What’s wrong, Sweetheart? You just left the office.”

“Oh, I know!” He can hear the pout in your voice, those plump lips pushed out for everyone but him to see. “It’s just that I was thinking…nine is just so early! And our tickets are good for all day. Can weeee leave just a little later?”

Nanami wants to listen to your pleas, he truly does, but he has to deal with something new befalling him: his body’s blatant betrayal.

His hand’s moving on its own, choking the fat girth of his cock all the way up to the tip, viciously squeezing the pink crown into nasty pale hues. Even at a time when he’s meant to be serious, his body’s adamant on milking itself dry. But must he be so slow yet unforgiving to himself like this?

“…Sir? Hello? Did the call drop?”

“No! I’m still here…” Nanami’s sudden outburst breaks the silence.

He pins the phone between his ear and shoulder, relying on his two hands to ease the relentless pit boiling at his core.

He had to find some way to get that sinful title rolling off your tongue again. So what could be brought up to keep your voice purring?

“So…since my suggestion is too early, what do you have in mind…Honey?”

“Glad you asked, Sir!”

One.

He’s pulling on his cock with a heavy drag, only for all his efforts to be spat out in glossy tears of precum. He’s making a mess of himself, the glassy rivulets trickling down his ghostly knuckles. He’s nowhere near the sacrums of nirvana but the display he’s forced to bear witness to hints at an early arrival.

“Uh-huh, go on.” he’s mumbling between gritted teeth. He’s losing temperance over his breaths.

“…and we’d still have plenty of time to explore the town, Sir.”

Two.

Now, Nanami’s getting the best of himself, purposely focusing on the head of his cock in short yet quick pumps. He’s extra keen on how sensitive he is too, pitting his thumb to curve right along the against his sweet spot.

He’s so close, shamefully closer than before. He knows that if he keeps on swiping at his underside like this, he’ll be binded to an explosive fate any minute.

“I know you like to be punctual but please, Sir?”

Oh…now you’re begging him. That’s three.

The thick gush of white splatters all over Nanami’s heaving stomach, his chiseled abs glistening in a hot, opal tinge.

Before he can even afford to echo the bliss ripping through his body, Nanami yanks the phone from his ear and presses the microphone against his chest to muffle any pathetic whimpers that slip him by.

The poor man, fair skin licked by a familiar fleeting heat and flinching in his seat by the cold wash that follows. He can’t remember the last time he’s let go like that, but the splattered canvas he’s reduced himself to tells him exactly what intuition would scream at him.

He’s just about ready to clean up but something feels…off. There’s just something he can’t put his finger on—

The phone call.

He panics, rushing to press the phone to his ear.

What was the last time you said? Something about please si—

“H-Hey, hey…you don’t have to beg me. Do me a favor, ‘kay? Just text me what time you want to meet at the station and I’ll be there.”

“Okay! Well then…get home safe and I’ll see you tomorrow…sir.”

Four.

It’s a punch in the gut this time because while he thought he’s been milked dry, Nanami’s eyes shoot apart at a bewildering sight: He’s still cumming.

His twitching cock’s forcing out a timid stream of white that’s dripping down his black slacks and running off onto the floor beneath him.

Nanami’s husky voice is washed in grief, the desire to cry out against the bliss of overstimulation dances on his tongue—but he has to send you off first.

With as mellow of a tone as he can rally, Nanami sends you his final thoughts.

“You too. Get home safe and see you tomorrow.”

The call ends and Nanami’s seething behind gritted teeth.

“Fuuuck,” he cursed to himself, his soiled hand still gripped around his twitching length. He wants to move, clean himself up, and get home to prepare for tomorrow, but fatigue’s already batting behind his eyelids.

Slouching back in his chair, Nanami finally allows his lungs to catch some air, his heaving chest stabilizing at last.

He’s a mess, the chair’s a mess, and even the floor too, but he isn’t focused on such miniscule details that nothing a good cleaning couldn’t take care of. Fresh off his orgasm, Nanami’s back to thinking about you and the weekend ahead.

The gears in his head are clicking and he’s thinking that maybe—just maybe, he’s earned the opportunity of a lifetime to do the one thing that’s been on his list for the last three years: to make you his girlfriend.

He can’t take it anymore, being in the office acting like he’s so standoffish when he truly wants nothing more than your presence. Your smile starts his day, your care for his well-being motivates him, and your kind words fill his heart in ways he can’t even describe.

He hasn’t regarded you as his assistant these past three years, more like his girlfriend who isn’t aware of his full-fledged commitment.

It’s so pathetic, he knows. But thanks to you, finally…Nanami’s goal was within reach. All he had to do was chase it.

Nanami’s sentiments only grew during the night and into the next day: Friday, the day he’s set to journey off with you.

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞

It’s been a blur since Nanami’s woke up—he’s been busy packing, cleaning his apartment, and standing in front of the mirror deciding which suit he should don for the day.

As the clock struck two, bags gathered by the door and a plain black suit with a white button-down dresses his body. He’s forgoing a tie for the weekend too, a few undone buttons present the dips of his collarbone prepared to bear the day’s breeze.

But there’s peril racing through Nanami’s mind, and has been since the previous night: he has no clue how to act or even go about courting you into being his girlfriend by the end of the hot springs trip. All he knows up to this point is subtlety—and subtlety is not an option in his arsenal.

The field of romance is a realm he’s barely pillaged through except for a few flings that led to nothing. You’re too different for his typical approach. He needs his message to come out clearer than glass, and for those kinds of results—he’s turning to one…annoying person for advice.

As Nanami reaches into his pocket, he can taste regret staining his tongue. And as he’s clicking onto that damned contact, he’s cursing himself for even thinking of turning to this man for advice.

And when the line connects, he’s kissing his teeth at the sound of his nickname falling from the lips of one…Gojo Satoru.

“Nanamin! You rarely call me these days! I miss you y’know,” the smooth voice trumpets out into his ear.

Huffing out the last bit of his pride, Nanami sighs into the phone, “Ah well…um, Gojo…I need some…help.”

“With?”

“A woman. My assistant, to be precise. We’re going out of town for the weekend and—”

“Nanami? Going on a trip? I must’ve died. And with a lady? I’m in an alternate universe now,” Gojo teases. “So, what do you need help with, I’m a little lost.”

Nanami drops himself on the edge of his sofa, the taupe leather dipping beneath his weight. He brings a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing at his tensed skin.

“She’s my assistant but…Gojo…I really want her to be my girlfriend. I have for the past three years. But my hints are too subtle and this is my best chance to finally be honest with her. I just don’t want to mess up. We’re going out to Kyoto

“Three years? You’ve always been patient, but this is extreme, Nanami. And the hot springs…you planning on—”

“Stop it right there. Just…tell me what you’d do.”

Nanami stares at his phone as the line goes silent, waiting for Gojo to say something—anything, really.

“Nanami, now I can’t help you too much, I’m not the relationship type. But just think about it like this, if you’ve had your eye on her for three years…and she’s been working with you for three years, obviously there’s something she likes about you too. This is so cliche and I’m cringing at the thought but…be your—”

“No.” Nanami immediately shuts down.

“Yes, and let me explain. Don’t try to be some guy you’re not, women pick up on that too easily, especially since you guys are going out on this trip. Be yourself and when the time comes, tell her how you’ve felt. And no matter what happens, just be proud that you were honest with yourself, okay?”

“Yeah…that works.”

“Good!” Gojo cheers, “Now go have fun and bring some condoms! You never know what’s—”

“Goodbye, Gojo,” and just like that, Nanami’s thumb isn't hesitant to end the call with a click.

“Just be myself…” he’s mulling over. While it’s sad to say that Nanami already knew that, he was hoping for something a little more out of Gojo. But himself is all he can be, then that’s exactly how he’ll act.

Slotting his phone back into his pocket, Nanami catches a glimpse of the time from the face of his watch.

3:00 P.M.

He had just an hour to himself before sitting on a two-hour train with you. But before that reality could be realised, He had a few errands to knock off his list.

The next time Nanami checks his watch, he’s leaning against a white tiled column in Tokyo station.

And the time is…3:45.

Those that surround are others caught up in their own lives—teenagers dressed in uniform, businessmen in their suits chasing the next transfer, and families strolling out the exits; all the people and not a single one knew the nerves that ambush his calm mind.

Not a single one knew of the havoc crashing through his body at the reality he’s set to enter. He did all he could to prepare, yet he can’t comprehend that he’s the last piece to the puzzle. Everything’s in line like dominoes, and all he had to do was strike the porcelain trail down.

And something about that, such ease, nothing about that sits right in Nanami’s mind.

Until the winning move falls right into his unexpecting lap.

“Oh! Nanami! Hi, sorry for making you wait! This station is just big, thankfully I just followed my gut and found you here,” the familiar voice rings in his ear.

He looks up to find your starry eyes already set on him from a few paces away. Nanami’s staring at you, hard. He’s never seen you in anything that wasn’t professional wear, that’s the excuse that plays in his mind over and over like a broken record.

You, in that silk yellow blouse that grants so much cleavage thanks to its low-cut neck. And the pleated light gray skirt around your waist is just so short, just one mishap and it’s all over.

Amidst all his leering, Nanami almost allows himself to forget manners. He meets you just halfway, wearing a soft smirk as he reaches for your bag.

“Here, allow me.”

“Oh! Thank you so much, Sir—"

It’s that damned word again. The letters rolling off your tongue bring a haunting memory from yesterday back into Nanami’s mind. He clenches the leather strap of your carry-on ever so tightly, gradually collecting himself before speaking.

“Hey Darling, you can drop the ‘sir’, okay? We’re on vacation after all. Nanami works just fine, or even…Kento works, if you want.”

He’s enlightened by the smile you put on your face, the peaks of your cheeks polished beneath the station’s fluorescent lights.

“Oh, sorry about that! ‘m just so used to the honorifics. But…alright then, Nanami. Is my bag too heavy for you?”

“No, no, it’s really not heavy at all. But we should get to the platform, though,” Nanami tokens with his head towards the destined path. “Are you ready?”

A kind smile grew across your glistening lips as you leaned towards Nanami, your hands softly clapping with approval. “Lead the way then, I’m right here.”

And Nanami does just that. He spins right on the heel of his shoe and walks with occupied hands, a tepid stare of his path ahead, his mind swirling with thoughts of you, and you at his side.

The station’s loud, loud with chatter, giggles, running feet, and warbling notifications on the intercom, and as all this goes on around him, Nanami can’t help but be absorbed into his own world. A world that included you.

Every so often, he steals a glance at you, his wistful eye watching you marvel at the station’s lively atmosphere. But all he can think about in his world is you; you and your beauty. He’s enamored at your mindless antics, the way your lashes flutter with each blink, the way your lips twist up–he’s even stuck over. But looking at you wasn’t enough, not when there’s this wall between you two.

It’s invisible to everyone but him. It’s one that he can look over, one that he can easily topple over with a sigh, but it’s one that he can’t fathom to crack without a proper plan.

The wall of silence—Nanami’s greatest ally turned enemy.

He isn’t used to this: sharing his intimate time like this. If he’s not holed up in his office, he’s out on his own tending to errands or matters of business. His usual standoffish method stands no chance today if he aims to woo you.

So, he went to the first thing you both had in common for the moment: emotion.

“So…” Nanami begins as he scours his mind for the words. “Are you…excited?”

You extend a kind look to him, soft eyes that pair well with your smile. “Of course I am! I’ve never been to a hot spring before, but I’ve heard so much about them and how good they’re supposed to be. I can’t wait for that hot water to hit my skin! How about you, Nanami?”

“Me?” He echoes with an arched brow. “Well…guess I’m excited too. Breaks are something I always want to take, but I never seem to act on them. The second I give it some thought, I’m already calculating missed opportunities and risks. I appreciate you pushing for this, Honey. Just make sure you have fun for me, okay?”

“For you?” Maybe you weren’t supposed to catch that slip-up, but being with Nanami like this was already fulfilling you beyond words. For him to be walking beside you, holding your luggage like it's nothing but a feather, it’s all too much for your mind to contain.

Moving dates around to have the weekend available worked in your favor. Three whole days tucked up beside Nanami, waking up with him, exploring Kyoto together, and even bathing together clouds your imagination with sinful thoughts.

He hides the full extent of his figure beneath suffocating suits, but you know all too well that Nanami’s physique is on par with the gods themselves. With his arms, back, and thighs banded with muscle, his developed chest taut with contour, and his big hands teeming with veins, your eyes were ready for it all.

And if the weekend ends with you bent over to help relieve all the pent-up stress he talks about in sessions, it would all be for a promising cause.

“Aww, Nanami…then let’s have fun together. But if I–Oh look, here we are! And the train’s boarding too, should we board? Looks like we’ll have to look for seats too,” your voice carrying a dull sigh.

“It’s fine, I think I can see two seats right there,” Nanami directs with a tilt of his chin.

He leads the way once more, urging you to board the train in front of him. The seats he took note of. You slip inside first, taking the window seat just as Nanami saw in his head.

Before he could join you, Nanami marks his spot with a small white plastic bag on his seat before loading the suitcases into the overhead bin and grabbing it again before sitting beside you.

Tugging the bag open, he reveals two sandwiches inside. “Oh, I stopped by the bakery on my way here and grabbed sandwiches. I um…I noticed what you like on yours, so…here you are.”

Trying to still his trembling grip, Nanami carefully places the tightly bundled sandwich into your awaiting hands.

“Aw, thank you so much! You really didn’t have to! I was just gonna wait until we got to Kyoto to eat!”

The smile that consumes your face is contagious, prompting Nanami to hide his own grin behind a clamped hand.

“It’s a long ride and I have a feeling you might have missed breakfast, so…hope you like it, Sweetheart.”

Nanami’s hope of gawking at you is cut short when you catch his leering sights.

The heat of embarrassment crackles beneath his skin, something he knows he can’t hide from you.

Rather, he adjusts himself, pushing his glasses up against the bridge of his nose with an excuse fumbling out from his lips.

“Sorry. I was just, uh–”

“Y’know, I was wondering,” you swiftly suggest a new subject, “…what do you look like without your glasses?”

Quirking up a brow, Nanami finds himself turning towards you amidst the cloud of blush claiming his cheeks. “Curious?”

“Very. But if they’re prescription, then please just ignore–”

“They’re not. They’ll more like sunglasses, but here, I have nothing to hide.”

At your implied request, Nanami’s glasses sit squeezed between his grip as he pulls them off his face. He’s met with your awestruck face—widened eyes and gaping lips.

“Scary, huh? I bet I look…uh…Sweetheart?”

“Nanami…you look so…different?”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “I’m gonna sound old here but you look so handsome! And your eyes, they’re like brown with a dash of green?! That’s so pretty!”

He’s handsome??? That’s a word Nanami never expected to hear fall from your lips. And you’re keeping those doe eyes pinned on him and only him too. Now how is he going to play this off? Hide his entire face behind his palm? Or maybe he should get up altogether and try to calm down…

“Oh…thank you, Darling. Um…I’m gonna go use the bathroom, alright? Be right back.”

Nanami doesn’t get the chance to hear you reply, not when he’s dead-set on returning to you. Just his luck that the bathroom is at the end of the cabin—and unoccupied.

He nearly throws himself inside, slamming the door shut behind him. Beneath his feet, he can feel the train’s latent drags over the tracks, officially beginning the long ride to Kyoto.

Nanami leans against the white sink, grasping the thick porcelain rim with a bruising grip. He’s met with the slender mirror tucked between the chamber’s corner, and just as he knew it—he’s red. From the tips of his ears down to his cheeks, it’s all pink…and seems to only grow richer.

That was…pathetic. A few words of kindness—no, a compliment from you about the qualities he already knows about himself places him in this sweating, breathless rut.

He’s pathetic. If that’s all it took for him to crack, how could he be allowed to think about sleeping in the same bed as you or even bathe with you? This was the place to shake out all those nerves, all those second thoughts haunting his mind, because after this moment, Nanami would no longer be alone. Because at this moment, Nanami is staring at his last moments as a bachelor before he’s married off to the idea of being yours.

He reaches out for the handle, granting cold water to shoot out of the facet.

A few chilly splashes contrast the heat and he’s back to staring back at his fair-skinned reflection.

‘A calm mind keeps a sound body’, that’s the mantra that plays in his head as he tends to his suit, tugging at the sleeve cuffs gently before exiting the bathroom and walking back to his seat. Upon finding you again, he finds you peering out the window of the passing landscape, the city slowly fading out into the countryside’s green pastures.

He notices your fidgeting fingers, nervously linking around each other. Of course, you felt something and his jetting to the bathroom only made things worse.

“I’m back,” he utters for your ears to hear.

Tilting your head back against the black leather, your eyes find Nanami’s, his unfiltered mossy hues falling onto your own.

“Feel better?” Your soft voice greets him.

Sheepishly, Nanami nods as he drops back into his seat. “Yeah, I just needed a moment.”

You shift closer to Nanami, resting your arms along the armrest between your bodies. “Did I…say something wrong?”

That’s when Nanami’s heart drops straight to the soles of his feet. He’s tossed into a state of sheer panic, raking his mind for some makeshift apology to soothe your worries. So many things he could say, but he’s settled for something he would prefer to hear: the raw and honest truth, no matter how pitiful it may seem.

A sigh breaks out of Nanami’s chest and into the air. He resorts to squeezing at the bridge of his nose to assemble his mind. “No, no, never that, Honey! It’s just that I’m not used to getting compliments…at all, really. And I get so red, it’s all just embarrassing to me.”

You perch your chin within your open palm, a faint smile gathering on your lips. “That’s so cute, Nanami! Well, since you’re not used to ‘em, I’ll give them to you. Because…you really are handsome…sir.”

Oh, you must be doing this on purpose, pushing all his buttons to get a reaction. He can’t even hide his grin anymore, not that he wants to, you’re getting a rise out of him—and he’s loving every single moment.

He’s loving it so much that he can’t help but join you, levering his neck to give you his attention. He’s doing so with a rare smile, one that leaves the peaks of his cheeks brimmed.

“Oh, but that’s not your job…that’s mine. How could I have forgotten to tell you just how beautiful you look? Yellow looks really nice against your skin, Sweetheart.”

Nanami catches himself in the moment, how he’s moving closer to your beaming visage. He allows his sights to shift from between your eyes and down to your lips before taking in a harrowing breath.

There’s only one thought in his mind…this was going to be an interesting ride.

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞

“C’mon! The villa’s just around the corner!” You point, turning around to gauge Nanami’s awareness.

“Slow down! I’m right behind you!” he chuckles, tucking the luggage beneath his arms.

Two and a half hours, that’s all it took for Nanami to break the ice of workplace formality with you. Since his outbreak on the train—and your affirming words; he’s found himself floating on a cloud.

Now he’s trudging up some stairs behind you all the way up to the villa, secluded from the outside world.

Since arriving in Kyoto, Nanami’s been taken away by the historic landscape of the area. Lush green trees stand tall amongst bushes and shrubs, and blooming flowers surround the quiet town at every corner.

The only unfortunate fact about the town was that everything closed at six on Fridays, and the train ride got you both here at six thirty. Which meant no nighttime browsing, no dinner, and room service was about to close.

But it’s a fact that Nanami’s willing to dismiss the moment he stood at the villa door with you at his side.

He’s dipping his hand into his pocket for the key, pressing the gold-plated metal through the slot. “Here we are, go on ahead,” Nanami grins, his hand pushing the door open for you.

“Nanami,” you coo, “You go in first, you’ve been lugging those bags up here.”

“No, it’s fine. You know the saying, Sweetheart, ladies first,” He smirks.

What Nanami didn’t anticipate was how close you were, your body flush against his own. And your eyes, they’re lingering on his own as you slip past him, pulling a breathless gasp from his lungs.

“Well…if you insist. I’m gonna go shower first then, meet you in the water, Nanami.”

“O-Okay,” he stutters out dumbly, his eyes left to hinge on your disappearing figure.

There’s another fact that Nanami’s taken note of since the train ride, how casual you’ve become with him so quickly. The fact brought him back to his phone call with Gojo and all that was shared.

It has Nanami mulling over what Gojo said, you already have some kind of feelings toward him. The train ride provided him with enough evidence, but logic tells him not to assume anything further.

And maybe you did feel the same way about him that he’s felt about you for the past three years. Tonight he was willing to put all that to the test, and he only hopes the results come out in his favor.

Dragging the bags inside, Nanami shuts the doors behind him, only to take in the villa with a scanning glare.

Takami mats replace the hardwood floor he’s become used to, with white walls surrounding him. The living room is quaint, with a black sofa against the wall with two armchairs joining the assembly. Just past the living room is a deck that looks out over the town, with a pool of steaming water just past a few steps.

“Nanamiiii?” You sing from around the corner, breaking his focus with ease.

“Yes, Sweetheart?” He’s chuckling to himself. God, if his last name sounds this good, how would his first name roll off that tongue of yours?

He walked towards the source of your voice, only for him to be greeted with the scene of you standing in the middle of the hallway with nothing but a towel wrapped around your body.

To ground himself fast, Nanami clears his throat and keeps his eyes pinned on you. And only your eyes.

“Is the shower off or something?”

“Oh no, nothing like that. There’s soap, towels, toothbrushes, and toothpaste, the bathroom’s great. I was thinking, should we order something? Maybe some hot sake and snacks?

“Get whatever you want,” he shrugs, taking a hand through his hair. I’ll have some too, so don't wait for me. I’m gonna go shower too, so go ahead and soak.”

You give Nanami one of your smiles before walking past him—just in time to give him some words of encouragement.

“Don’t take too long, it’s gonna get lonely without you.”

Nanami stands in the doorway of the bathroom, taking one more glimpse at you with his head shaking.

“I won’t.

The next time Nanami gets to see you is after his shower, a brief ten minutes that’s synonymous with an eternity. He leaves the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist, his hair weighted by water and his mind running on mischievous fumes.

Finally, he has you all alone with no outside noise to impede on his slice of heaven. He’s strolling down the hallway with his head held high, exuding the sheer heat of confidence off his slicked skin.

Who knew that the moment he caught a view of you, all his hard work would be swept up under the rug and replaced by naive awe?

Nanami swears to himself that he’ll look away, but it’s a promise bound to be broken because he simply can’t find elsewhere to rest his sore eyes except on you. You and the gentle curves of your glistening body perched along the ring of rocks compassing the private hot spring. Beside you is a small bowl that floats, holding what he can safely assume to be the hot sake you wanted.

He doesn’t quite get what’s so amusing about the scene either, but there’s something about observing you participate in the mundane task of peering out over the settling town made Nanami’s cheek swell with a rousing heat.

A part of him almost doesn’t want to distract you—but his imagination was painting him too many scenes that needed his hand to unfold.

Biting the innards of his cheek, Nanami gathers what’s left of his ebbing confidence to walk down the deck steps, the wood creaking beneath his every step.

“How’s the water?” Nanami’s question breaks the silence.

His voice coaxes you to meet him with a welcoming grin, “It’s so nice! And the sake got here too, it’s not too sweet and it’s still warm, just for you.”

Nanami stands at the pool’s edge, his hand encircling his hidden waist. “Yeah, y’know I’m not even much of a drinker, but I’ll try my hand at it tonight.”

He’s still got your regard, the two of you trapped in a trance until he notices your gaze wavering further along his body. Down his bulging chest bejeweled by water droplets, the carefully sculpted contours of his abdomen, down to the fluffy white towel hanging around his hips.

“Well…,” you purr, “Aren’t you coming in, Nanami?”

Slowly, Nanami lowers himself into the steamy bath, his foot settling onto the shallow bottom. The misty water splits around him as Nanami introduces himself. The water comes up no further than his mid-thigh, but the moment he sits down, he’s pulled into an embrace that captures most of his chest. And yet, he can’t hide the sigh of relief that trumpets out his mouth, his head dropping back between his shoulder blades.

“Oh wow,” he pants, “Feels so good.”

“Right, and with a little sake…” you push the wobbling bowl to swim across the pool towards him, “You’ll feel even better.”

“Really?” Nanami smirks as the sake enters his realm. He’s quick to pour himself a cup, filling the stout ceramic cup to the brim.

“If you want some more…gotta come a little closer, Sweetheart,” he teases as he brings the rim of the cup to his lips.

“Guess I could go for a little more,” you give into him with a chuckle, rising from your spot with a hand clipped to the overlapping layers of your towel.

Slow, sweeping steps cut through the water as Nanami gawks at your bearing silhouette. That pesky towel clings to your body, but all it does is complement your curves—those very curves that sit nuzzled to his side as you sit beside him.

“How’s this? Close enough?” you press, your head lolling against the rocky edge to face Nanami’s flushed face.

“I’ll take it,” Nanami snickers as he works himself to pour your cup. “Here, should we make a toast?”

“To what? A vacation?” you question with your cup in hand.

“Hmm…” Nanami weighs, “To…us. And this long-awaited vacation.”

“To us, then” you cheer as your cup rings against Nanami’s.

He’s back to eyeing you; there’s a grin working onto your lips as you push down the sweet liquor, one that brings a liberating wave to wash over Nanami’s mind. He wishes he could see you like this all time, relaxed and free from the stresses of the world.

A moment of silence falls over the scene, allowing you and Nanami to simply bask in each other’s presence. The sake’s finally settled in his system too, leaving him with a faint haze over his mind. He places his empty cup back onto the wobbling bowl before shifting towards you, his eyelids resting at half-mast.

“Y’know, I’m really happy you agreed to come with me, Dollface,” he sighs happily, “ I like seeing you calm like this.”

“I could say the same thing to you, I don’t think I’ve seen you smile so much,” you return fondly.

“But I’m only smiling this much because of you.”

“Pfft, what did I do?” You push off—but Nanami catches the disbelief in your voice with a squint.

That’s when Nanami's eyes shoot toward your own. He isn’t playing around either, not with the courage coursing through his veins. Was this the moment he’s been waiting three years for? And if it was, would he ruin it by saying too much? So much doubt, so much second thoughts cloud his mind—but when he opens his mouth to speak, it’s all rooted from the depths of his heart.

“So much. You’ve done so much, all your time and care have never gone unnoticed. A-and…I …have so much I wish to tell you, but…I’ll be honest, I’m nervous.”

“Nanami? It’s okay, I’m right here and I’m here to listen.” You aimed to soothe him, your hand breaking through the water to lay against his chest.

Oh, how he wishes you wouldn’t have done that. His heart’s already throbbing up to his ears, and with you finally laying a hand on him, he might burst right there. But the tranquil aria of your voice brings Nanami back down into his body and a clear mind.

He clips his bottom lips between his teeth, using the sharp pain to calm the heartbeat you had complete access to. “Doll, I can’t…I can’t keep this up. I’ve um…always…always wanted to tell you that since the day you walked into my office…I knew I wanted to be yours.”

“But I mean…” There’s the logical churning in Nanami’s brain when he enters a space of realism—where he analyses everything down to the letter without regard for how cold it may roll off his tongue.

And that includes an analysis of himself.

“And I know, what sane woman would wanna be with a man like me? I don’t express much emotion, I’m too technical and I overwork myself. But I promise to be—”

“Kento?” you interrupt, rapping the tips of your fingers against his chest.

“Yeah?” He sulks with a frown.

The hand you keep at his chest creeps up to his inflamed features, that same heat meddling in with your palm as you cup his cheek. A gentle turn pits Nanami to face you head-on, but to ease his rushing mind, you give him a smile paired with the softest of tones.

“Any sane woman might not, but you’re grouping me in a category that doesn’t suit me. I don’t mind for my man to be a thinker, a hard worker. And if he has some trouble expressing himself, it’s okay. I have patience…just like you do.”

Nanami’s hiking a brow at your remarks, “So…you’ve known this entire time?”

“Known is a strong word. But Nanami, we’ve been working together for the past three years. How could I not fall for you when you treat me so kindly? All those lunch and dinner dates, the random gifts that pop up on my desk. I mean, playing it off on clients is sweet and all but the office doesn’t open until ten and the mailman doesn’t reach us until twelve. Still…the effort was sweet.”

“God, I feel so childish!” Nanami groans as he screws his eyes shut to avert your gaze. “Guess I shouldn’t have been so nervous, huh?”

“Yeah but, think of it like this,” you try to shed some light on his woes. “Three years have passed and we know each other better, down to our habits too. I think we were better off waiting rather than jumping in when we first met.”

“But that only leaves one question…” Nanami whispers to himself. He opens his eyes again and finds you as his refuge. Space isn’t a stranger in his mind, not when he’s barely a few inches away from your visage. When he finally gathers his thoughts, the words spill from Nanami’s lips without another second pass.

“Will you…be my girlfriend, Angel?”

Nanami can hear you swallow down that lump in your throat. Nerves, that’s the one thing he did calculate for. He’s throwing a relationship on you, without asking if you were anywhere near ready for the commitment.

But he’s hoping. Nanami’s hoping and praying to any god that exists that you’ll grant him this one selfish wish.

“Y’know, if we do this, things can’t go back to how they used to be…ever again.”

“I know,” Nanami hums as he brings his thumb to brush along the crest of your cheek.

“A-And, we’ll have to talk about things moving forward.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“But…what if we’re making a mistake?”

Nanami catches your chin with between his thumb and index finger, compelling you to look up into his eyes. They’re gentle, free of their usual cold stare, and superseded by a blossoming twinkle. He’s capturing you in a trance that’s leaving you breathless; breathless and at Nanami��s every whim.

“If this is a mistake, then I’ll do anything to prove to you that it’s not. There’s no mistake here, that much I know. Whatever you want, whatever it takes…I’ll do it if it means we can be together.”

A pout pushes out onto your lips, touched by Nanami’s dedication and devotion to you.

“Okay…but what about right now? This isn’t going to end in only a kiss.”

“Mmm, call it consummating the relationship,” Nanami suggests under his gravitation beneath tension’s heat towards you. His eyes hang low and pin right onto your lips, hinged at the fated words speaking through the air.

“Well then…guess I’m all yours, Kento. Yes, I wanna be your girlfriend—”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” That truly is all Nanami needs to hear because he didn’t even grant your monologue its deserved spotlight before his lips are sinking against your own.

He has half a mind to call it the kiss of life, a weight lifting off his shoulders the moment he delves into his long-awaited bliss. It’s as he’s imagined—no, better than that. The soft plush of your lips entices him, pulling him into a game of chase. You pull back and he’s right there for more, and when you push he’s taking it all with a pathetic whimper seeping from behind his clashing teeth.

It isn’t long before his hands dip back into the water for the treasure he’s calling your hips. Hidden behind that towel, but it’s no match for him when he’s holding you now, so close that not even a drop of water could invade.

And if Nanami had the strength to find the words, he would. But he’s using every ounce of his strength to fight against the water to have you closer. He’s guiding you right onto his lap, your body smothering against his as you straddle him.

“Can I…take this towel off?” He quizzes between a breath—and he smirks when you conjure up a feverish nod.

Like a feather in the wind, Nanami’s using a delicate touch to peel away the wall, his eyes growing at the sight of your bare skin in reach. It’s a reward when he yanks the thick cloth from beneath you and off into the dark abyss behind him.

And now that Nanami’s finally got his hands on you, no force in the universe could move him.

You’re so soft in his palms, with skin so supple he’s almost afraid of what his touch could do to you. Even with all those precautions, his faith is an unwavering one. You’re too cute for him to abstain from such bliss, especially with three long years of patience behind his belt.

He simply has to get his hands on you, all over you until he’s become acquainted with every crease, crevice, and curve your body has to offer.

“Let me give you a quick lesson on something, Baby. I think you’ll like it too,” he hums, pulling away from this kiss.

“Oh?” you entertain, tilting your head at Nanami’s new persona. He’s grinning, his smile so wide that you swear it has to be a figment of your imagination. But the way his hands glide across your skin pulls out a vivid reminder in the form of a helpless whimper.

“Go ahead, show me everything you know.”

“Erogenous zones. The places where you get extra sensitive. I wanna see how many I can find. Like…right here.” He tends to your breast first, his vast palms carefully skimming along the delicate skin. He’s cupping your tits in his care, using his girth fingers to knead into the pillowy plush.

“How does that feel, Sweetheart?”

Oh, aren’t you the cutest, pulling back from the steady stream of kisses to watch how intentful Nanami is with his words. The hands you brace onto his shoulder pick up a dangerous grip when his fingers feather at your nipples, pinching the dormant buds awake.

With this newfound audience, Nanami can’t help but perform now. He’s taken to the valley of your chest, his lips simmering against your skin as he sketches the grounds for his act in fluttering pecks. Bit by bit, he’s planting his path, nipping at your skin until his lips brush against your nipple.

You pinch at your lip again, praying that it grounds you from what Nanami has in store. “Feel so…so good, Ken,” you whine with setting eyes.

He doesn’t get his way without hearing your mouth, a delicate chirp that melts into a moan. As your eyes crack open once more, he’s sure to meet you with gentle olive irises.

“That’s my girl. Too pretty to hide when I’m merely teasing you. I’ve got all night with you, remember?”

That’s as much as a reminder to himself too, he has all night, two days, and the rest of his days to explore you. But already he’s missed out on so much time, so he hopes you’ll excuse him for the rush now.

The rush of his back finally traveling past your tweaked ties and down to l the small of your back, his burly hands dressing your delicate body like a corset. If he remembers from his days back in university, the back is a special place. It’s where your spine can be found, where your curves take shape, but there’s something else here that Nanami can’t quite put his finger on.

Until he does.

His fingers dust right over the divots in your back, those two dimples waiting for attention. He remembers now, the insane levels of sensitivity hidden in plain sight. He doesn’t want to give away his ruse, but for all you know, he’s merely inches away from grabbing onto your ass.

So he does it, delicately allowing a few fingers to slip past the water and sink into the pert plump flesh, leaving only his thumbs to fill out those precious jewels of your lower back. The pads of his thumbs lay teasing strides as a ploy until he’s located those hidden cords of nerves.

He can’t wait anymore, softly pulsing his thumbs against the dips, solely for his ears to be graced by the prettiest of chords: your heavy gasps drumming into the air.

“This is an overlooked one. Known as the lumbar, but it’s simply your lower back. By using a liiiitle pressure like this—”

“Kennn…h-hold on, that’s so…Ohmy–!”

That’s the gasp he’s looking for, the satisfaction parading itself somewhere deep inside Nanami. The jolt wrecking through your body only brought you right into his hands and pinned against his chest. His lips take to your ears for his own bliss, hiding a sadist smirk behind his encouraging words.

“Now, now, those nasty words don’t suit you, Angel. Can’t you find anything else to say with that pretty mouth of yours?”

“B-But, I—“

Another slip along your back dimples sends you reeling against Nanami, your head dropping to fill the crook of his neck.

“Nanami! That’s …t-too mmuch for me,” your plea falling on deaf ears.

“Oh Baby, did you forget who I am? The body…this body….your body…there’s so many ways to touch you, tease you, make you cum without getting remotely close to your pussy…’nd I’m just getting started.”

Nanami veers himself enough for his eyes to be cast upon you, his hazel hues scanning over your fucked out face; those eyes fluttering at half-mast, your lips broken fleeing hot pants chest. He can’t help but soothe the pain with pleasure, painting the flustered tips of your ear in deft pecks.

“You just so happen to land yourself a sex therapist for a man.”

It’s a truth that Nanami doesn’t let you absorb, not while he’s playing with you like this. His thumbs taunt your lower back and his hands strapped along your ass pull your hips into transit, rutting against him for a sliver of relief.

But Nanami’s grown so desperate that he’s slouching—permitting his back to slip against the bath’s wall if it meant he could plug your pleas with his bulge.

And wasn’t his theory proved right on the first try?

Because the second his hips curl right up under you, he’s gasping at how the lips of your cunt drag against the drenched towel—and along his poor cock. So much fervor, so much passion is driving your hips to rock like this, forcing the towel to lick at your clit.

But…that’s his new job. A new task that comes with his promotion—and one that he’s dying to commence.

“Ken,” his name highlighted behind your moans.

He gets the chance to watch you reach out for him, your hands lacing around the nape of his neck and pulling him close. So close that your foreheads rest against each other and all you can do is dress each other’s mouth with aimless pants.

“You want more, don’t you?” He chuckles.

And you could respond, but you allow your lips to deliver the message to him loud and clear. Back to that familiar cadence, your lips falling into a dance made for you. But when your tongue dips into his mouth for the first time, Nanami swears he could cum right then and there.

Your tongue, velvety and so kind, traces along his own—riding up along every curve and back down to his bottom lip.

“Fuck,” is all Nanami can mutter…because…fuck. Such a dirty word, but his mind’s running on nothing but the lust clouding his core, and rushing to bully his cock with relentless pangs.

“Kento…is that?...” you giggle, breaking from his lips when something hard perks up between your legs.

“That’s what you do to me, Baby. ‘m so hard already, waiting for you to be mine.”

“Aww, but I am yours, Honey,” you avow, raking your nails along the deep chisels of his back. Against his lips, you whisper such a lulling coo that pulls at Nanami’s restraint, using the exact words he didn’t need to hear.

“So…what are you waiting for?”

Nanami kisses his teeth, sparking a devious grin to claim his mouth.

“Part three of this lesson.”

A hand of his snakes between your bodies, twisting and tugging his towel out from under him until he’s free.

“Another erogenous zone, huh? Can I…try to find yours?”

Nanami could never deny you, who was he to start now of all times? He decides to help you out by laying a grip around your wrist, leading your hand down between your bodies

When your hand laces around his pudgy length, he’s gritting his teeth at your bestowing grip. So loose but cradles his cock with such care he could almost shed a tear.

But all you do is lug your lax fist up and down, singly to tease Nanami of what could come to pass. And you do it all without failing to keep your sights aligned with his own. So, just this once he’s letting you take the reins.

“Go on, I’ll even give you extra points if you know how to handle it.” His hands float back up to your hips and he finally relaxes—his body stills, his mind blanks, and Nanami inhales a breath what he deems to be tranquility at its finest.

He’s resting in your care, closing his eyes and allowing himself to feel everything—every beat of his heart, the waves crashing against his chest, the stirring of nerves brewing in his stomach.

That alone grows, its futile persistence slowly consuming Nanami. He’s touched himself so many times before, but it all fails to compare when he has you working on his behalf. It’s more than he can handle.

And he’s too keen on hiding it either, Nanami’s head lolling back when your hand gains fervency. Your wrist works sloppy twirls around the belled crown of his cock that coaxes a livid heat to rip through his nerves.

“J-Just like that, niiice ‘nd slow…g-get the tip too—fuck!”

Your lips cling to his exposed bobbing Adam’s apple, littering his skin with kisses and taunts.

“Aww, so sensitive, Ken. And ‘m only touching you exactly how you want me to,”

“Fu-fuuuck, that’s…d-don’t squeeze down like that o-or–!” He’s barely huffing out. His chest’s struggling to keep up, relying on labored breaths to feed his lungs what bits of air he gathers.

Only a few minutes into the relationship, Nanami’s already pushed to the edge, his body teetering the dangerous line of pain and pleasure. It feels so good to have you touch him, but the heft of his impending high has him seeing stars each time he blinks. It’s a line of pain and bliss that has tears welling in Nanami’s eyes, his broken mind split on an outcome that dooms him either way.

“Ha-Hah! Baby, please! I don’t wanna cum yet, slow down!” He’s sobbing with hands clipping to your waist. His nails sink into your plushy skin, marking you with a bruising belt of crimson crescents.

“But you’re so close, Ken!”

“I know, I know, but I can’t cum before you do, Angel. Wouldn’t feel right to me.”

His hand finds a new hold along your wrist, pulling your worked hand through the water and pressing along the bulging ripples of his chest.

“Besides…All that sake’s got me craving something so sweet. Think you can help me out with that, Honey?”

“Mm-hm…’course, Ken.”

“Good.” He hums as his gaze falls over the salacious scene’s background: the wooden deck. He’s also keen on calling the towel he freed from you back into play, tugging the soaked cotton towel across the deck.

Patting his hand atop the deck, Nanami ushers you to join his next lesson, “C’mon. Bend over and keep that pretty ass in the air for me, alright?”

If there’s something Nanami knows about you, it’s your ear for direction. Every task, every favor, and anything he’s asked of you during the past three years was always completed beyond expectation.

And this was no different.

The arch you take on is nothing short of heavenly, your face hidden behind the blossoming spread of your ass. “Beautiful,” he ponders aloud, his wandering hands rowing along the luscious junctures of your curves. “I still need your help, Darling. Spread yourself fr’ me.”

He oversees the hesitancy that claims you, your trembling hands reaching around the globes of your ass. Ever so gently you pull yourself apart before him, only for a whimper to bring all your hard work crumbling down.

“But Ken…that’s so—fuck!”

Obiviously you’re nervous, he’s asked you to reveal yourself like it’s something so easy. As his newfound position entitles, he’s supposed to ease your woes, not enforce more than what the world already dishes out. That’s why Nanami takes a thumb right over your clit, drawing loose rings around the timid bud. He’s so painstakingly slow too, ensuring that every nerve is caught beneath his tantric trance.

“That’s so what, Baby? You don’t have to be nervous with me, just wanna make you feel good.” And that’s a sworn promise of his, the kiss he places onto your ass brandishes it as such.

“Take your time, ‘m right here.”

Words have power, and he’s witnessing the magic with naked eyes. Your hands, once trembling and timid, now pries yourself apart for Nanami’s sake.

“How’s that?” you press, tilting your head to find Nanami’s hidden silhouette.

“Perfect. So pretty too, Baby. Oh, look at how cute your clit is! Mmm, I know you’re sweet too, aren’t you, Darling?”

What else had to be said, Nanami’s really taken a liking to your pussy, the way your clit drinks up his touch with jaunty throbs. He can’t ignore that blatant fact that you’re dripping into his impressions. He could take some credit for the sticky mess unfolding between your legs, but he’s more interested in furthering his role.

So it’s no wonder when Nanami can feel himself drawing nearer, his heavy eyes guiding him to meet your splayed cunt within mere inches.

“Tell me, y’know that this cute clit of yours is another one of those erogenous zones ‘m teaching you about, right?” He breathes out against your bare cunt.

“Y-Yeah…” you huff, biting at your lip.

“Good girl. Let me see how long it takes to make a mess out of you.”

A man starved, that’s all Nanami is as he falls victim to your displayed cunt. He nurses you with a pout, granting him the exclusivity of tending to your clit. He places a soft kiss as a foundation, melting all your woes beneath his supple curves of a ruined grin.

He seals the spry bulb between his lips, his purling jaw working to bring your clit to its blushing bulbous swell.

He’s allowing his tongue to slip onto the scene, the slicked palette pedaling kind, short strokes to the pink pearl. His heavy tongue drifts along the raw nerves softly, curling just at your swelling hood to tease.

Between a thin stare, Nanami’s thinking of how cute it is that your plump clit dances along with his tongue. It takes two to dance and Nanami couldn’t have asked for a finer partner. Whenever he takes the time to twirl, swirl, and nudge at you, he’s met with a grand pirouette that laces around his tongue.

“Fuck!” the curse ripping from your puffy lips. It feels good, that much he knows thanks to your melodies. But if only you knew the discipline it’s taking Nanami from not burying himself between the fat mounds of your cunt.

You’re like silk against his slicked muscle, those soft folds of yours sewed along his curled tongue. He can’t even begin to account for how many times he’s traced at the pulsing hem of your folds, nipped at your fluttering hole, even the number of kisses he’s tongued out of your clit, all to pull out that saccharine stream of ambrosia from your slit. So sweet, so sticky, exactly what he needs to soothe his mind from the edge it sits on.

He hears your cries too, your sobs, the whimpers, and the need to cum blended with each word. Nanami wants to soothe you too, feed your numbed mind kind words of reassurance. But greed’s got the better of him, the sin staining his very tongue as he indulges in your honey.

But when he catches the way your hands dig into the plush of your ass, he’s wincing at the sight.

He’s also keen to that hand of yours drifting dangerously close to his canvas. He’s aware of your game and allows for that stubborn digit of yours to nip at your slit.

Those subtle pulses lead to you sinking in a little deeper, a certain detail he can’t let slip for too long.

“Am I not enough for you, Honey?” Go on, show me how you touch yourself.”

His chocolate hues break wide at how greedily your puffy hole envelopes your finger, swallowing each sloppy stride you pump into your core. But that’s all it is—cheap, sloppy work.

Somehow and someway, your body’s enjoying it, the addition of your finger bringing shivers to rake across your skin.

And while Nanami isn’t a jealous man, he’s resenting that touch of yours with a nasty sneer.

He could shy away, let his mouth help guide you through that high begging to crash through your body. You’re working so hard—but Nanami works harder.

The longest finger he has pecks at your busy hole. He doesn’t think much of it at first—until he catches your hole latching onto his teasing scheme. Before he can go on about how much of a mess you’ve made out of yourself, a dumbfounded awe strikes him. He’s able to attest to it, how his digit is being suckered inside you.

“Oh fu—knew you still needed my help…but we can work together too.” He’s chuckling to conceal that crack in his voice.

It’s a slow, wet draw that has you stretching, gasping to be stuffed by the oblivious girth of his finger. But it’s so wet that your pussy and your mouth have to squeal out against his deepening reach.

“K-Kennn, fuck! Right there!” You gasp, yielding your endeavors at Nanami’s introduction.

“Now I didn’t say to stop, Angel. Keep going, pretend like I’m not even here.”

And he means every word, he’s waiting for you to pick that sloppy pace, one that he challenges with the slow drags of his own. You lack the grace he strives for, the same grace that brings him right to your sweet spot without fail.

“O-ooh shit, Kento!” Your hips jerk from his ministrations, but he isn’t letting your sobs distract him from such a discovery.

“Hm? Is that your spot, Honey? Right here?” He taunts, sending his ruined digit to thrash against the stiffening bundle of nerves.

“‘M so close, Ken! Plea-Please don’t stop!”

Don’t stop? Don’t stop? He had no plans of stopping, yet your body seems to cry out against your compelling demands. Why, Nanami wants to bring about the lush high you deserve, whereas your hips suddenly picked up such a nasty habit of jerking away from his mouth has him thinking otherwise.

“I told you already, you don’t have to beg me. It’s right there, hm? Let it all out for me.”

He tags a hand at your rebelling hips and pulls you right onto his coiled tongue, where defeat lies along the horizon. He relies on his lips, now plump and plush, to tack onto the sputtering bulb of your clit and melt away all that prudish tension with a kiss.

Such a kiss allows him to trace over your spry hood, to roll out the glossy pearl in riveting tides. And when paired with his pummeling finger, Nanami can only count the seconds it takes for your body to crumble.

Nanami draws him back exclusively to watch your beautiful demise. He keeps his hand at your hips, kneading at the grip he used to restrain you out of pity. It’s an honor for him to be by your side, aiding you through what he deems to be a perilous high.

He’s so endowed to your allure, that Nanami can’t keep his thoughts all to himself—no, he utterly has a duty to share all he’s thinking with you, even how pretty you look in the face of ecstasy.

“Look at you, wanted to cum ‘nd I did it all for you…give it to me, c’mon, Angel.”

Your hand can still be found in his, clutching at his palm through every tremor, every sob, and the heavy sacrifice of your breath. He’s right there with you, decorating your skin with soiled pecks until your breath is caught and steady.

“Good?” He checks, his hand skimming along your skin.

“Oh, Ken…th-that was really good!”

“Well then…can you give me one more?”

That’s when you finally turn around to face him, gems of water adorning his body. Your eyes hinge on a particular sight though, his cock standing up at a slight curve.

Tan with the pretty cream hues of his shaft that contrast his own skin—and the blushing pink tip of his cock by miles. Vibrant veins line his every inch, lacing around his girth without fail. The underside’s heavy too, defined by the contours that flush out his cock. And of course the tip’s fat, what else did you expect, the blushing pink heart that tops him off pecks at you, his cock primed by tease.

Nanami’s touched by how quick he’s got your attention, and he plans of keeping your time well-spent. That’s why he’s swift to bestow a coddling grip around his, feeding himself with a few lazy pumps for your explicit viewing pleasure.

“But…I forgot to bring condoms—didn’t think we’d get this far. We don’t have to–”

“No,” you grin, passing a sinister glint back to Nanami, “It’s fine.”

Oaths spill from his lips the moment you grant him such a blessing. He’s already nuzzled against you, preparing his fragile mind with what lies beyond your hole.

“Oh, you got so wet for me, fuck,” the words he’s mumbling aren’t even made for your ears—he’s raving straight to your pussy. He’s dragging his slicked tip through your folds, up and down, tracing at your slit with lazy nips. His prodding bellhead comes to smother your tight hole in messy kisses, lathering up a rich foamy web that’s waiting to be destroyed.

“I’ll be gentle, so be nice to yourself too ‘nd don’t rush,” Nanami hums as he hunches over your body.

He’s keeping his hips loose as he sends his cock eight inches deep. Eight inches that he’s chosen to feed to you through kind snaps of his hips. Your puffy entrance suckles at the slit of his cock, drinking up every drop of his precum before he’s hidden inside your walls.

“Fuh–Angel, t-that’s just th-the tip, al-alright? Got a litt-ttle more to go,” He gasps. But that’s to serve as a reminder to him that he has more to go–which means Nanami has to grasp onto his composure for just a little while longer.

The urge’s there, but why rush when you feel so good right here? Warming up his tip with silky pulses that test Nanami’s resolve. The hands he’s chained to your hips grow heavy, bearing a harsh grip once he’s glued his hips to the thick plush of your ass.

“Gonna move now, Angel. Tell me if it’s too much right now, ‘kay?”

Nanami’s so ingrained with your suckling heat that he almost doesn’t want to pull out. If you keep squeezing him like that too, he knows he could in a matter of minutes.

But then a thought laps through his mind—he’s wearing a rare honor of delving into your pussy bare.

And that’s a chance he’s not willing to risk.

Slowly, his hips reel from you, stealing back those girthy inches from your greedy walls. He darts his eyes down to the sight, his cock bore with your slick. So messy what a few minutes can do, and it’s left him with a fixture for sore eyes.

Creamy, thick, and yet…it’s not enough. No, it’s not enough for Nanami, he needs you creaming a nice cloudy ring around the base of his cock.

Since that’s the task he’s chasing, Nanami doesn’t hesitate to seal himself back into you, finding a kind rhythm to alleviate your walls to his bulling girth. Every roll of his hips brings him closer to his goal, you’re easing up around him. He’s almost inspired by your resolve to take him to feed you just a little more of a tempo, his hips catching wind of your welcoming advances.

Your voice breaks his concentration. “Ken?”

“Ye-yeah, Honey?”

“M-More…I can take it, Baby.”

He had no business hearing that fall from your lips, that request only makes Nanami throb. He’s all for it now, reeling his hips back until the very tip of his cock threatens to leave you. The filthy rut he’s fallen into reads through your ass, towing hypnotic waves to ripple through your skin.

You feel so good around him, your satin-like walls snuggling his girth. He can feel you working at his own demise, all that squeezing feeding the knot in his stomach. Oh, how he wants to cum, to paint you in his seed—but that’s not an honor yet deserved, not while your orgasm has yet to present itself.

He’s so hellbent on being so kind to you that every bit of his body acts in accordance towards his wish. The thick head he delivers to, the girth of his cock keeps your greedy walls at bay, and the swell of his heavy balls babies your clit with light taps of rapture.

He’s almost forgotten where you two were—outside with neighbors under a kilometer away. But who’s Nanami to stop those delicious moans from leaving your mouth? You’re singing him a song of how well he’s pleasing you, how deep he sends his cock to reach. He’s been busy at your sweet spot for sometime, painting the nerves in his scent, in his kisses, and in his fervor.

“That’s it, stay with me. Y’re taking me so damn good too, Angel. Squeezing down on me like that…

“Fuck, Ken..I-my legs…can’t keep them up anymore…”

Before Nanami can even offer some advice, your body’s already given up the hope of support. Your legs stretch out along the towel, forcing you to lay on your tummy.

“Hm, don’t worry about it, just lay there all pretty and take this dick, okay?”

Of course, Nanami’s found a solution, as he always does. This solution prompts him to trap you beneath his world when planting the flat of his hands beside your head, his hunkering body stretching over you. He slots his chest along your back, leaving his hips to break away from you.

All your curves, all your breaths, all your whimpers and your moans were his own when he’s this close. He can feel everything, even the way your walls flutter around him with this newfound angle.

He gives you time to adjust while he gets to explore you, his eyes searching for where to lay his artwork.

Right there, along your shoulder, he’s already imagining all the kisses and bites claiming your soft skin.

“Tell me…” he mutters between a trail of pecks along your shoulder. “You know what I love about you?”

“N-No…what’s that?” you quiz, levering your chin back to find Nanami hard at work.

His earthy hues fall prey to your gaze. He’s compelled to abandon his work to favor you, the answer to your question dribbling from his mouth.

“Oh, what do I love about my sweet baby? It’s how vocal you are, always telling me what’s on your mind. Just like right now…” he smirks, “Even though I can’t see, you always seem to tell me how deep I am…and how much deeper I can go. Just…liiike this…”

A lazy drive of his hips sends his cock to deliver a wispy kiss right to your cervix, coaxing your tummy to cave in against the towel.

“Oooh shit! Ken! Fuck!!”, your gaping mouth mewls.

Nanami simply grins at how fast your hands ball up the towel between your fists, he’s proven right. Not that he cares all that much, bearing the privilege of hearing your sweet cry is all the reward he needs.

“Oh I know, Baby, I know,” his voice carrying a suave chord, “I’m gonna be nice, fuck you right too.”

A man of his word he is, Nanami Kento.

“KenKenKen! ‘M gonna fucking cum again!” you sob, bucking your hips up against him.

“Again? That’s my girl. Gonna cum on my dick, right? I’ll make it a good one too, don’t you worry!”

He’s working on your behalf, grinding his hips along the swell of your ass. He can’t go any deeper than this, but he’ll admit that he’s neglected your sweet spot for quite some time now, Blame it on the feverish heat subscribing to his body, but he’s ready to focus his all onto you.

That includes kissing at your sweet spot with the head of his cock. Rolling his hips ever so carefully, sketching along those inflamed nerves with buttery pecks, he’s ready to make you cum—hard. Harder than what any toy, your fingers, and any man ever could.

Though, it’s when he slips up and finds your cervix—that’s what brings about your downfall. His ill-minded finding brought about deep-rooted tremors to wreck your core, capturing your entire body with a hellish wrath. Your walls clench at Nanami, cursing him for being such a fate before you.

Yet, all he can do is cheer you on, chuckling at how his efforts brought him to a place of bliss.

“That’s it, cream all on me, Baby. Fuck, trying to make me cum too, aren’t you?”

“Ken, I-I—ohmygod!”

“Shhh, I got you, Sweetheart,” he’s humming along your cheek, “Come back down to me…we’re not done yet.”

“We’re not??!”

Nanami hides the sly grin on his face as he turns back to the awaiting pool of water behind you both.

“Of course not. We came all the way out here, did you think I wasn’t going to take you in the water too, Baby?”

“Ken…I…I don’t think I can cum anymore!”

“Oh yes, you can! You didn’t even squirt for me yet! But if you don’t do it tonight, I’ll make you squirt tomorrow.”

Selfish, so utterly selfish of him to try and pull another round out of you, but his tempered patience challenges this rare spout of excitement. For in simply a few hours, Nanami’s become addicted to you—your lips, your body, your moans, even watching you cum at his hand, he’s addicted to it all.

“One…one more, ‘kay?” you wager, a look of your glossy doe eyes consuming his sights.

“Okay! That—”

“But…” you swiftly intervene, your weary hand searching for rest along his thigh.

Nanami’s eyes follow your lithe hand, tracking the lazy path it takes up his body. He’s still waiting to hear the rest of your deal, but how can he when your hand trails up his thigh, curving up around the base of his cock and up towards his flexing abdomen.

“Ken, baby?” The melodic call of his name breaks the trance, Nanami’s sights meeting your own.

“Y-Yeah?”

Nanami’s eyes light up at the smile adorning your face.

“I wanna ride you. It’s the least I can do for makin’ you work on your vacation.”

He’s gawking at you. Dumbly too. His mouth surrenders to that gap and he merely stares at you. That’s all he can do to distract himself from the mind-numbing rush of blood filling out every inch of his cock.

Because thanks to you…he’s painfully hard again too.

“Aww, you like that idea? You’re already making a mess, Ken.”

He looks down. You’re right. All this excitement has him dripping aimlessly, the back of your thigh covered in patchy drops of his precum.

But he can’t bring himself to move, not when he’s caught between a place of utter embarrassment and pitiful arousal. Should he apologize? Should he wipe it off?

As you crawl back onto your hands and knees, suddenly his cock’s sitting homely between the soft, thick globes of your ass, Nanami doesn’t know where he found the restraint to not paint your skin white right then and there.

And you have all the confidence to taunt him now too? Taking advantage of his dumbstruck silence to roll your hips against him, stroking his weeping cock ever so slowly.

“C’mon, Ken, I’m waiting. Don’t you wanna go back in the water and relax…with me? We can all that fun we’ve been talking about too.”

He’s stuck on the sight. Up and down, you’re dragging back on his cock, leaving the white-hot tip raw and aching; leaving those portly veins to bloat and flourish along his length; leaving the spill of precum to dangerous tread behind the lines of milky white.

“Fuck” Nanami’s voice rattles out at last. “I might—no, if we do…I'm so sorry…Sweetheart, I’m sorry but I’m not gonna last long!”

“That’s okay,” you coo, “We can go nice and slow just to calm you down.”

Shamefully, Nanami nods at your assurance. As to how you ended up with a hand over him is shameful—but a well-played card.

Slowly, he descends back into the haze of steam, the water welcoming his body once more. He sits himself at the bottom of the pool, the water coming up just above his navel.

In the corner of his eye, Nanami carefully watches as you slip back onto the water and crawl into his sprawled lap to straddle him. Your arms drape along his broad shoulders and he’s already reaching for your hips with hungry hands.

Your forehead presses up against his own, sealing Nanami in a spell he couldn’t imagine breaking from.

“Gonna go slow, okay?” You whisper, your hips drifting above the pink crown of his cock.

Though he’s been buried to the hilt of your heat, it’s still foreign to Nanami’s mind what it means to have you split over him. He doesn’t know that to have your pretty pussy split and sputtering dumb means to carve your walls into his shape, his size, to mold you around every single detail that comes with a man of his caliber.

And that upright curve he’s donning too.

The sweltering gush that your walls paint Nanami behind has him reeling beyond comparison. He’s so desperate too, the urge to snap you down to his tensed thighs teases the very hands he keeps pinned to your luring hips.

But he can’t forget that it’s an effort you make to accommodate him, laggardly drowning your poor hole beneath the sinful weight of his length.

Taking him like this, it’s overwhelming to have something so thick, so hot, and stupidly twitching out of sheer excitement fill you like it’s easy.

Yet, you do it anyway with that cute break between your lips, gasping like something so shocking has your attention. You do it with furrowed brows, confounded as to how you’ve ended up gaping around his fat cock out of the kindness of your heart.

It’s all so shrewd, but your sacrifice makes everything worthwhile once Nanami’s immersed in your spitting cunt once more.

He’s right back to relish how your walls pamper every bit of his cock in those flirting embraces. He’s right back to gritting his teeth, finding it in himself to bear that persuasive hold you’ve laid before him.

Nanami has it in him to cry out, to rattle off hymns of how well that sloppy pussy of yours got him—but all he can conjure up is the will to pin a sloppy kiss on your lips.

His mind might be fleeting, but Nanami’s learning you too are a woman of your word; slow is an understatement for the mesmerizing toll your hips adopt. It’s a mesmerizing toll that’s slow enough to have the likes of Nanami—a man of rigid logic—gasping for air.

You’re still squeezing him, but it’s more aligned with your intentions now rather than the nerve of taking him on like before. It’s all so tedious, having your hips roll all the way to the top, dangling at the tip, only for your walls to lather up the fat pink bulb in gummy kisses.

All the teasing has his cock threatening to slip out, cursing your cunt in twitching for stealing back the shared bliss.

“Oh fuck—Wha…What are you doing to me, Angel?” He’s whimpering against your lips, and your smirk catches every single word.

You feign innocence with him, pressing a merciful peck onto his quivering frown. “What are you talking about, Honey? I’m taking my sweet time with you, just like I said I was.”

That’s what you say, but Nanami’s aware that there’s more to your claim than what meets his ear. If you were really taking your sweet time with him, why is he spiraling down this pit of ravishing piety?

You’re drawing out whimpers he himself never heard before, his jaw slacked by the sudden song on his heart. You’re only riding him, but can you feel how every bit of his body surrenders to you? You’re following through on your word, yet here Nanami is, chasing after your swiveling hips with mindless bucks of his own.

You’re too clever at having him dance in your palm, and that’s something Nanami can’t help but plot against. He isn’t one to challenge the powers that be—but something about this moment taunts the very chemistry of his psyche.

He has to even the playing field, though, in his current state of writhing and plight, all he has is his hands.

For his ruse to taste success, Nanami’s hands can be found bound to a particular parlour of your back—the lumbar, or…your lower back. He’s sure you’ve forgotten about his speech from earlier, but he meant every word. For what he possessed in his hands was both the power and knowledge to have you cum without any real need for penetration.

And while that holds true…he does have you on his cock right now, working so hard to relieve him. He’s musing over the idea, hungry to see how hard you’d cum if he picks up his teasing.

His thumbs slot themselves back along those dimples he’s grown fond of, his sinking digits shattering the powerful strides of your hips.

“Oh—You’re back to that again?!” You jolt, your hips seized by his mischievous ploy.

Nanami’s drinking in your exasperation with a smirk. “Told you, there’s so many ways to make you cum.

He’s bracing for the torturous words you have in store for his brash rebuttal. That’s the fate he’s anticipated to befall him.

He wasn’t, however, prepared for your encircling arms to pull him closer, your bodies simmering against one another. He didn’t anticipate the kisses you’d place at his gaping lips, gentle and sweet. And there’s no possible way that Nanami could have orchestrated the words set to leave your lips.

“Oh yeah? Then let’s cum together, Ken.”

“Are…you close?” he whispers softly.

“Mhm,” you nod, “And I know you are too.”

Nanami’s taken aback by your tentative nature. You know his habits, mannerisms, and now how dangerously close he was to spilling in your womb. He had the strength to press you up along the pool walk to finish himself off, but where’s the fun in such bold novelties?

Because if he did follow through on that thought, he’d be missing out on bearing witness to your eyes screwing shut when you drop your hips a little too hard, bringing his cock right back to your sweet spot.

“K-Ken, I’m–!” That’s all he needs to hear, not when your face paints him a clear picture. With your eyes rolling back into your skull, your forehead sunken along the crook of his neck, and that breathless sob warming his skin—you were right at your peak.

It doesn’t help his cause that you get all the more sensitive, that minor mistake throwing your whole body into the heat of chaos. You’re ruining him in flittering clenches, pulling every ounce of Nanami’s strength to the surface of his skin.

He’s seeing stars in his eyes, white patches seizing his vision as your poor pussy stutters around him. He knows what’s due to follow—that all-powerful weight that pins him down and forces that tragic cycle to crash down on Nanami.

His legs are subdued by a trifling rip of nerve, rendering Nanami’s reprisal futile. He’s going to cum, that’s the pill he has to swallow. But he can’t begin to fathom that he’s going to cum inside you.

Sure, it’s a thought he’s paid some time too—every day for the last three years. But now that he’s faced with that want, he can’t help but rebuke it completely.

He’s reaching between your bodies to grab at his cock, wedging himself from your heat with a sob. You were so good to him, even better around him and now he’s forced to bear his orgasm alone while your own courses through your veins.

“‘m…c-cum—cumming! Fuck, ‘m gonna cum, Baby!” He seethes, clenching his jaw when his overworked body is faced with the lone choice of release. A release that has opal hues spitting from his twitching slit, thick ropes of white staining the water.

He’s devastated by a hitching breath that leaves his stomach caved and his burly chest shuddering for air. Nanami’s head is sent to roll, dropping back as he’s doing his best to hold back that woeful moan.

And he’s still going, still tainting the water with his definition of healing. The hot spring was healing, but your pussy was the epitome of rejuvenation.

“Hey,” Nanami’s hitching voice rasps as he strokes the small of your back, “Still with me?”

All you can deliver is a sheepish nod, your arms still clinging to Nanami for support. And he’s got you, his hands cradling your delicate body through the reeling fatigue that comes after such bliss.

He’s exhausted, worked raw and to the bone, but Nanami still finds the energy to pull both you and himself out of the water and into the bedroom.

With just the indirect rays of light from the hallway, Nanami gently lays you to rest upon the vast face of the bed. You look so peaceful like this, nodding off with a faint grin plastered to your puffy lips. He finds himself inclined towards you, hovering above you as he dusts the back of his hand past your cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” he coos, “You did so good for me, so proud of you! I’ll take care of the rest, don’t worry–”

“Ken?” your hoarse voice croaks out.

Nanami immediately gives in to you, concern dressing his face with knitted brows. “Yes, Sweetheart?”

Your hand creeps towards his own, your fingers weaving around his own. He can tell you have a question on your mind, it’s begging to come out too.

“It’s okay, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Well…can I still come to work Monday?”

Nanami’s eyes soften as he peers over to you. Even in this darkness, he can make out the frown playing at your lips. His hand comes to soothe all your worries, cupping your cheek with his thumb and stroking the highs of your cheek.

“Of course, Baby. You can come in, leave early, whatever you want.”

“So then…can I still work with you?”

That question troubles Nanami, striking him inaudible as he cautiously considers his answer. If he had things his way, Nanami wanted you to go shopping, to spoil yourself with spa days and classy cafes. He wanted you to enjoy the bliss of free time, while he worked to ensure all your dreams could come true.

But then again, he didn’t have it his way.

He has you to consider now, and if working with him brought you joy, who was he to ruin that?”

“Well…I want you to go have fun, go shopping, go to the spa. But that’s what I want. I also love having you at the office with me too so…if that’s something you really want, then…”

“It is! Now that we’ve figured that much out…let’s go.”

You make an attempt to stand, only for Nanami to catch your trembling body within his care. “Um..where are we going?” He asks, draping an arm around your waist.

“To shower. I may be tired, but I think I can handle a shower with you…and only a shower, Kento.”

“That’s fine by me. But, since you’re up…we should also plan out what we’re doing tomorrow. I was thinking we leave here at 9:30 and—”

“Kennn,” you draw out, “It’s vacation. Let things happen, okay?”

He muses at your words, “Let things…happen, you say?”

Let things happen? That’s the kind of advice he prefers to steer clear of. And yet, it’s gotten Nanami to achieve his wildest dream—turning his pretty assistant into his girlfriend. He steals one more glance at you, a look that fetches a smile to grace his timid features.

“Then, we’ll let things happen, won’t we, Darling?”

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reasonsforhope · 2 months ago

Text

"As a Deaf man, Adam Munder has long been advocating for communication rights in a world that chiefly caters to hearing people.

The Intel software engineer and his wife — who is also Deaf — are often unable to use American Sign Language in daily interactions, instead defaulting to texting on a smartphone or passing a pen and paper back and forth with service workers, teachers, and lawyers.

It can make simple tasks, like ordering coffee, more complicated than it should be.

But there are life events that hold greater weight than a cup of coffee.

Recently, Munder and his wife took their daughter in for a doctor’s appointment — and no interpreter was available.

To their surprise, their doctor said: “It’s alright, we’ll just have your daughter interpret for you!” ...

That day at the doctor’s office came at the heels of a thousand frustrating interactions and miscommunications — and Munder is not isolated in his experience.

“Where I live in Arizona, there are more than 1.1 million individuals with a hearing loss,” Munder said, “and only about 400 licensed interpreters.”

In addition to being hard to find, interpreters are expensive. And texting and writing aren’t always practical options — they leave out the emotion, detail, and nuance of a spoken conversation.

ASL is a rich, complex language with its own grammar and culture; a subtle change in speed, direction, facial expression, or gesture can completely change the meaning and tone of a sign.

“Writing back and forth on paper and pen or using a smartphone to text is not equivalent to American Sign Language,” Munder emphasized. “The details and nuance that make us human are lost in both our personal and business conversations.”

His solution? An AI-powered platform called Omnibridge.

“My team has established this bridge between the Deaf world and the hearing world, bringing these worlds together without forcing one to adapt to the other,” Munder said.

Trained on thousands of signs, Omnibridge is engineered to transcribe spoken English and interpret sign language on screen in seconds...

“Our dream is that the technology will be available to everyone, everywhere,” Munder said. “I feel like three to four years from now, we're going to have an app on a phone. Our team has already started working on a cloud-based product, and we're hoping that will be an easy switch from cloud to mobile to an app.” ...

At its heart, Omnibridge is a testament to the positive capabilities of artificial intelligence. "

-via GoodGoodGood, October 25, 2024. More info below the cut!

To test an alpha version of his invention, Munder welcomed TED associate Hasiba Haq on stage.

“I want to show you how this could have changed my interaction at the doctor appointment, had this been available,” Munder said.

He went on to explain that the software would generate a bi-directional conversation, in which Munder’s signs would appear as blue text and spoken word would appear in gray.

At first, there was a brief hiccup on the TED stage. Haq, who was standing in as the doctor’s office receptionist, spoke — but the screen remained blank.

“I don’t believe this; this is the first time that AI has ever failed,” Munder joked, getting a big laugh from the crowd. “Thanks for your patience.”

After a quick reboot, they rolled with the punches and tried again.

Haq asked: “Hi, how’s it going?”

Her words popped up in blue.

Munder signed in reply: “I am good.”

His response popped up in gray.

Back and forth, they recreated the scene from the doctor’s office. But this time Munder retained his autonomy, and no one suggested a 7-year-old should play interpreter.

Munder’s TED debut and tech demonstration didn’t happen overnight — the engineer has been working on Omnibridge for over a decade.

“It takes a lot to build something like this,” Munder told Good Good Good in an exclusive interview, communicating with our team in ASL. “It couldn't just be one or two people. It takes a large team, a lot of resources, millions and millions of dollars to work on a project like this.”

After five years of pitching and research, Intel handpicked Munder’s team for a specialty training program. It was through that backing that Omnibridge began to truly take shape...

In order to achieve that dream — of transposing their technology to a smartphone — Munder and his team have to play a bit of a waiting game. Today, their platform necessitates building the technology on a PC, with an AI engine.

“A lot of things don't have those AI PC types of chips,” Munder explained. “But as the technology evolves, we expect that smartphones will start to include AI engines. They'll start to include the capability in processing within smartphones. It will take time for the technology to catch up to it, and it probably won't need the power that we're requiring right now on a PC.”

At its heart, Omnibridge is a testament to the positive capabilities of artificial intelligence.

But it is more than a transcription service — it allows people to have face-to-face conversations with each other. There’s a world of difference between passing around a phone or pen and paper and looking someone in the eyes when you speak to them.

It also allows Deaf people to speak ASL directly, without doing the mental gymnastics of translating their words into English.

“For me, English is my second language,” Munder told Good Good Good. “So when I write in English, I have to think: How am I going to adjust the words? How am I going to write it just right so somebody can understand me? It takes me some time and effort, and it's hard for me to express myself actually in doing that. This technology allows someone to be able to express themselves in their native language.”

Ultimately, Munder said that Omnibridge is about “bringing humanity back” to these conversations.

“We’re changing the world through the power of AI, not just revolutionizing technology, but enhancing that human connection,” Munder said at the end of his TED Talk.

“It’s two languages,” he concluded, “signed and spoken, in one seamless conversation.”"

-via GoodGoodGood, October 25, 2024

#ai #pro ai #deaf #asl #disability #translation #disabled #hard of hearing #hearing impairment #sign language #american sign language #languages #tech news #language #communication #good news #hope #machine learning

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m-oddinsdottir · 5 months ago

Text

COLD STEEL

the shadowsinger and the traitor .ˊˎ 🗡️

Azriel x Fem! Reader

Words: 2,674

Warnings: takes place in acowar so it may contain SPOILERS from previous books, archeron sister reader, use of a dagger, reader is tied up, angst, betrayal, no use of y/n, mating bond, fluff, images above do not depict reader’s appearance it’s just for aesthetic and I think that’s it

Summary: When your real intentions are discovered by the Inner Circle of the Night Court, you have to face the consequences. Your mate and the cold steel of Truth Teller.

A/N: friendly reminder that english isn’t my first language so please feel free to correct me <3 this is my first one shot for acotar so of course it had to be about azriel

Masterlist

•••

Gods, how did you end up in this situation? Wrists tied behind your back and a rope that served as a muzzle inside your mouth to prevent yourself from making any sound… Any sound that could mess up with your mate's closed-up mind.

No. You knew exactly why you were there. It was all your fault and because of what? A blinding desire for revenge? Or perhaps it was childish behavior that had made you reach out to the wrong person?

But you were young. Immature. Compared to all those creatures you had sworn once in your life to hate and that now your sister considered a family. They were centuries old, you were just turned twenty-one when it happened.

Twenty-one before your mortality had been taken away from you, in front of your eyes, while you were slowly sunk inside that turbid water of what they had called "The Caldroun"... A powerful source of magic, creator of the world known and theft of yours and your sisters' mortality.

But as theft, as The Cauldron was, it was also generous. So it gifted powerful abilities that seemed to differ from others in that magical end of The Wall.

As a mortal, your impulsivity sometimes took a thick control over your logical sense. And when you were turned High Fae, that only increased. The process of adaptation was hard. You could hear, see, and feel everything. Everything you had ignored before. And the desperation of not knowing how to stop it made you act.

And the King of Hybern was the only solution.

Or so you thought, less than a year as an immortal and you had already made your biggest mistake. He promised he would help you with the emerging powers. You believed him. He swore that if you desired it, he would return your mortality. You believed him. He convinced you it was all Feyre's fault. You believed him.

And the only requirement? You would become his spy. All you had to do was watch and tell. And you stupidly agreed.

Easy job. You already hated all of them... It was their fault you had ended up being swallowed by the Cauldron and resurfaced as one of them. You just had to do as the King said, keep Nesta and Elain protected until the King would turn the three of you mortal again, and then... Then you would figure it out. It was easy, right?

It was easy knowing that you were working with the male who plotted to kill the sister who had saved you from starvation. Even easier witnessing the love they shared, the love of a family... A family bonded by the drawbacks of time and the burdens they had fought together.

Gods...

And it was even easier to betray the male who had silently been by your side, wanting to help and protect you without being invasive. His quiet and cold presence was even more reassuring than a gentle caress or a hug and before you realized, you desired to spend more time with him... Not only in silence.

When the bond snapped, it wasn't a surprise but a relief for Azriel to be able to call you his mate... On the other hand, for you, it was what changed everything.

You were trapped, being suffocated by the feeling of betrayal and consternation. And every time you slept by his side when you were in the comfort of being surrounded by him and him only, silent tears escaped your eyes.

Said eyes widened slightly when he entered the stance where you had been tied up. Azriel was silent, but not his usual comforting silence. The male that looked at you now was someone completely different from the male that held you through the nights, wings wrapped around your body to shield you from any harm.

Your eyes moved lower to his scarred hands, eyes closing tightly as you noticed that Azriel was gripping Truth Teller. The dagger's blade caught the only traces of light that filtered through the darkness of the room and your throat closed as the tears began to pool in your closed eyes, dropping down your cheeks into the muzzle.

Azriel didn't say a word as he approached you. He didn't even flinch when he saw your tears as he usually did every time you cried in front of him. No, he just moved to free you from the muzzle around your lips.

He was determined to make you talk. Your mate seemed willing to torture you until he got any valuable information out of you... Or, at least, an explanation.

Your heart ached at the thought and unconsciously your pain traveled through the bond making Azriel's breath hitch before he shook his head.

‘Azriel...’ You mumbled beggingly, your voice sounding strained with emotion. But not because of the muzzle, the rope around your wrists, or the thought of being tortured... Those were the least of your concerns as you observed the male before you.

He didn't answer. ‘Azriel, please...’ You tried again and he looked into your eyes, no emotions visible in his hazel irises. Almost as if he had shut them down. A sob escaped your lips. ‘Please, please... Just—’

Azriel interrupted you. ‘You are not going to trick me anymore.’

The coldness in his words made you fight against the ropes that were wrapped around your wrists. ‘I didn't—!’ Lie. You did trick everyone into thinking you were harmless. ‘Please, Azriel... I swear I—’

‘Were you forcefully compelled to work with Hybern?’

‘No, but—’

His firm voice interrupted you before you could try to justify yourself. ‘Did you not spy on us... On me and shared that information with Hybern?’

‘Azriel, please—’

‘Were you not condemning us to a certain death by sharing that information?’

A sob escaped your lips and you couldn't hold his gaze anymore, looking down at the ground before yelping when his scarred hands roughly held your chin and forced you to look at him. His fingers squeezing your cheeks.

‘Were you not condemning me to death?’ Azriel asked again.

‘I didn't know what else to do.’ You mumbled and then the cold steel of Truth Teller pressed against your trembling throat. Holding back the need to sob, your gaze locked with his.

‘And betraying your family and your mate was the best option?’

‘The bond hadn't snapped when I...’ Azriel pressed the blade closer to your throat but despite his threat, you noticed he was being gentle... The blade was raised upwards to prevent it from slicing your throat and even if he was gripping it tightly, the pressure against your neck was minimal.

You looked behind him and noticed how his own shadows were trying to move him away from you. The dark tendrils were trying to protect you.

‘Look. At. Me.’ He spoke coldly, fingers squeezing your cheeks again. ‘You still betrayed your sisters... And then betrayed me when you kept going.’

‘What did you expect me to do? To suddenly cut connections with Hybern? Yeah, that probably wouldn't raise suspicions, Azriel.’ You managed to mumble, a small frown of frustration over your features as you looked at him through the blur of your tear-filled eyes.

He held his breath as he analyzed you, his eyes scanning the tears that stained your cheeks and how your brows furrowed together. ‘You could have told me.’

‘And then what? The same damn situation we're dealing with now.’ His fingers around your chin squeezed tightly pulling you forward to him. His nose brushed against yours as breaths mingled together. Gods, his turmoil was so tangible that you could smell the inner fight he was struggling with.

He breathed in your scent. ‘I would have helped you... I would have understood you.’

‘Are you understanding me? Are you helping me?’

Azriel called your name in frustration before he roughly shoved your head back. Desperately needing to create some distance between you, he held your chin so that you couldn't lean in closer. ‘Don't say that as if that's not the only thing I long for. Help you, protect you, shield you.’

Hearing the desperation in his voice had you holding your breath. The guilt invades your lungs in a choking sensation instead of the so-desired oxygen. But that's what you deserved, after everything.

‘I...’ Your strained voice broke the silence as you finally looked into his eyes. ‘I just wanted my mortality back, Azriel...’ He sighed shakily before his hand holding Truth Teller moved down. ‘Everything's been so...’ Your voice broke and his other hand moved up to cup your cheek.

‘I know, I know...’ He mumbled and his eyes met you, the same warmth in which he usually held your gaze.

‘I didn't know what else to do... I was so furious with Feyre and I—... I just thought about bringing our mortality back.’ You admitted referring to your sisters before Azriel shushed you, the hand holding Truth Tuller moving down to cut the ropes that held your shoulders to the pole so that at least you could rest your weight against him. However, he kept the ropes around your wrists and legs.

When your head gently hit his shoulder resting against him, his hand moved up to cup the back of your head. Whispering sweet words to reassure you as he held you in his arms, trying to silence your tears as he brushed his lips along your temple.

‘If I could go back, I swear I'll do it... I—’ You trailed off when he began massaging your scalp bringing a sense of calm to your trembling body. ‘Ever since the bond snapped, I've been giving him confusing information. Half-lies... Or entirely nothing. I swear...’

‘I know, baby, I know.’

His words made you nuzzle your nose more against his shoulder. ‘Please, you have to believe me... Please.’

His hand over your cheek pulled you back so you could look into his hazel eyes. Gods, those irises... You could sink into them and get lost in that pool of golden brown. And you would do it willingly. They were your anchor. He was your anchor. Your strength and your liability, both at the same time.

‘I believe you.’ Azriel assured you. Then, the strength of your bond hit you so hard that it caught your breath away. The golden thread looked tangible as it swirled as a bridge between your souls and there you could feel his honesty and concern.

‘I don't know what to do.’ You confessed in a shaky whisper and he rested his forehead against yours. ‘Gods, please hate me. It's way easier than this... Hate me, Az...’ You begged him.

Azriel shook his head before his lips pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead. Rejoicing the feeling, a soft sigh escaped your lips. ‘I don't hate you. I could never hate you.’

‘You should.’

‘I don't want to,’ Azriel repeated before he gently called your name. The word rolled off his tongue with a soothing tone to it. ‘I don't hate you, baby... And neither does Feyre, nor either of the others.’

When a small sob escaped your lips, his dagger swiftly cut the rope that held your arms and wrists and you were able to wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace.

Finally.

Your torso was pressed against his, the soft flesh in your body caressing the hardness of the centuries-trained muscles over his chest and abdomen. Azriel immediately encircled your waist. He needed this. To feel you closer. To know you weren't a threat.

‘No one hates you.’ He assured you gently ‘Elain... She saw your intentions through one of her... Visions,’ Azriel's face contorted into discomfort at the thought of your younger sister having such a powerful ability that she didn't know how to control ‘She defended you and I... I wanted to see it for myself, see that you... That you at least had some regret.’

He loathed the thought of what he had planned to do before entering that room.

‘I wanted to torture you until you would give me something... Anything.’ Azriel admitted and you felt his pain and self-hatred through the bond. ‘But I... Seeing you like this, I can't— I don't...’ His grip on you tightened.

‘Azriel...’ You mumbled but he interrupted you.

‘I know you regret it.’ The Shadowsinger mumbled and his dark tendrils roamed down to free you from the rope around your legs. The minute you were free you wrapped one leg around him bringing the male closer to you. ‘Now I see it.’

You two fell into a comfortable silence. He brought you comfort and so did you to him. It was as simple as that.

‘If I hadn't felt any regret...’ You began gently only stopping for a second when the male growled. His chest vibrated roughly, so you placed one hand over the hard tattooed flesh. ‘Would you have done it? Torture me?’

The Ilyrian male froze under the weight of your question. Was that what you believed of him? Did you think he would do you any harm? The mere idea made Azriel want to go through every single torture himself.

‘No.’ He spoke firmly and his eyes met yours again when he pulled away. ‘No. Never...’ Azriel shook his head and then it seemed as if something broke inside him. ‘Never... never...’

He repeated over and over again as he slowly closed the distance between your lips. Lazily, his lips crashed against yours tasting the saltiness of your lips. ‘Never...’ He repeated over your lips. ‘Don't ever suggest it again.’ Azriel mumbled with pain.

His hand moved up to tangle around your hair as he kissed you again, this time it was messier... The male was shaking as he captured your lips with his and he gently pulled away when you choked one of your sobs against his mouth, more tears silently falling and making the kiss even messier if it was possible. A small frown adorned his face as he pulled you closer by the waist after backing away.

‘What can I do?’ You asked, voice strained and tears falling down your cheek until they would wet the dark fabric of his shirt. ‘Please, Azriel, what can I do to amend it?’

His sigh was warm against the skin of your neck and his lips pressed a gentle kiss against the sensitive skin provoking a shiver that ran down your spine. ‘Nothing. You don't need to do anything...’

‘I do.’ You insisted and he shook his head, burying his nose even more into the crook of your neck.

‘You don't.’

‘Azriel...’

‘I... Cassian may have said something earlier that could not be a terrible idea.’ Azriel mumbled against your skin before he moved backward to look into your eyes and seeing your raised brow he sighed. ‘But I don't want you to get in danger just to...’

‘Just to make it up for you? Enough reason.’ You whispered, chin tilted backward to brush your lips against his. ‘I am capable of making my own decisions, Azriel.’

His small grin widened as he answered, ‘I know that,’ when your lips pressed against his in small, gentle pecks. Yet, he couldn't help but keep talking. ‘This shouldn't be allowed… You're compelling me with your kisses.’

‘Am I now? What a shame... Poor Spymaster can't handle some kisses?’

The moment he confessed, ‘Not when they're yours,’ you couldn't help but stifle a giggle. You paused your kisses and instead nestled your nose against his, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

‘Please, Azriel... Just tell me what I can do.’

He groaned under his breath when your presence clouded his thoughts. ‘Cassian mentioned that you could gather information for us… Misinform Hybern and extract intel from him.’

Your brow raised with interest.

‘Perhaps I could teach you the art of espionage, my mate... Be one of my spies… What do you think?’ Azriel mused, his gaze penetrating as he locked his gaze with yours.

Oh, how the tables had turned on Hybern.

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #requests open #azriel acotar #acotar x you #a court of thorns and roses #azriel fic #acotar fic #cassian #batboys #rhysand #feyre #archeron sisters

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7seas-of-ryy · 5 months ago

Text

Come Back To Me

Author’s Note: Italics are flashbacks! Grumpy x Sunshine! No shenanigans in this one! I'm sorry!

Summary: You had always been the positive one in the IC but one mission can change everything. Set during the war with Hybern!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of torture, let me know if I need to add any others :)

"Hey, I brought you something to eat." Azriel barely whispered as he entered your room.

You looked his way but said nothing, then turned your head back to what you were looking at. The view of the city from your room was always gorgeous, but now it was just something to for you to stare at while you struggled to get through the days.

Disappointment flooded the shadowsinger when you made no move to grab the food.

It had been months of this. Months of him trying to get you back to how you used to be. It seemed you made no improvement but he still tried.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

"Azzzzzz" You called out in a sing-song voice.

"What now?" He grumbled out.

He was trying to do work, frustrated he couldn't find a solution for Rhysand. And being holed up in the library was not helping his mood.

"You have to try this! I picked it up at the bakery and it is delicious!" You told him with pure excitement, not letting his attitude alter your mood.

You never let anyone get in the way of your mood. Happiness seemed to be easy for you. Glass half full was definitely how you viewed life. Azriel envied that.

Without waiting for a reply from the male, you held up the pastry to his mouth.

"I can feed myself." He spoke and gave you a look.

Instead of replying, you put the pastry in his face again. He rolled his eyes yet took a bite of the treat.

It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. His eyes immediately shut and groaned. That was what you loved, seeing these small moments where he wasn’t worried about saving everyone.

You could see the frustration fade from his face, replaced by awe of how amazing the baked good was.

"You can have the rest! I'll get out of your hair so you can get back to work. Oh! I almost forgot, I also got you this coffee, let me know if you need any help!" You told him as you made your way to the exit.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

The spymaster felt useless. It seemed there was nothing he could do for you... until an idea came to him.

He got to the bakery as fast as possible and bought the same pastry that you had bought him all those years ago. He grabbed himself a coffee and made his way back to you.

After knocking on your door to let you know he was coming in, he walked over to you.

"Guess what I got you!" He said with a smile, "Its one of those pastries that you love so much!"

He held it in front of you and you didn't even look his way.

Suddenly his apetite was gone. He didn't think it was possible for his heart to hurt anymore than it currently did. He kissed the top of your head and let you be.

Without another thought, he went to find Rhys.

"Help her. I don't care what you have to do, help her right now." Az pleaded.

"You know I can't do that. She hasn't asked me to and I don't do that without consent." Rhys told him.

"This is all your fault! You should have stopped her! Forbid her from using herself as a distraction! She is a shell of herself because of you!" Az was now shouting, letting his emotions take over.

"Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I wanted to leave her there?" Rhys shouted right back.

He was hurting from all of this too, everyone in the IC was. They had saved you and yet it seemed everyone was mourning the person you once were.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

He could hear you giggling before he saw you. As he entered his room, he saw you standing with your hands behind your back and a giant grin on your face.

Az eyed you suspiciously and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What're you doing in my room?" He questioned and his voice was rougher than he wanted it to be.

"Do you remember your leathers that ripped during the last mission we were on?" You asked the male.

He nodded his head in response, waiting for you to continue.

"I fixed them!" You said, revealing the repaired leathers that had been behind your back.

"I sewed them up and reinforced the seam!" You told him with such excitement.

His eyes softened slightly and he wanted to reach out and hug you but he couldn't let himself. He wouldn't let himself get too close to you, couldn't handle the pain of another loved one getting hurt.

"Thank you," He spoke bluntly then cleared his throat, "What were you laughing at?"

"A few of your shadows and I were just thinking about how you ripped them. I can't believe your leg slipped and you did the splits!" You let out another giggle.

He tried to fight it but a small smile made it's way to his face at your joy.

"Well, thank you again." He spoke quickly before you noticed his grin.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

He looked down at his clothes as he sat next to you in your room, there were small holes and rips all over them.

Normally you repaired them without him asking. He told you that you didn't have to but you assured him you wanted to. Now, he refused to let anyone else fix his clothes.

"Mor refuses to be seen with me in public." Azriel told you with a small laugh.

"She says I look homeless with all these rips in my clothes. But I don't care, I don't trust anyone else to sew my shirts besides you." He spoke again with a smile.

You still stayed completely still, staring at the city below. You felt hollow. It didn't matter that you were still alive, you were dead as far as you were concerned. There was no way to continue life after everything that had happened.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It was supposed to be simple, meet with Eris, gather information on Hybern and return to the Night Court. The four of you weren't expecting a trap.

As you entered the old building to meet Eris, you could sense something was off. Your suspicions were confirmed when one wrong step set off a trap. Arrows, ash wood arrows shot out from all directions. Luckily you weren't hit by any. Two hit Rhys, one in his shoulder and one in his wing. One hit Feyre in her leg. And four...four hit Azriel; two in his wings, one in his side and one in his leg.

You ran to Az to help him, seeing he had the worst wounds.

"Hey hey, you're ok. I'm going to get you home and we can heal you up, ok?" You told him, giving him a smile that didn't reach your eyes. You forced your tears away, not willing to let him think you were worried.

He loved that smile. He was dying and yet all he could think about was how much your smile meant to him.

As you were trying to break the arrows so you could pull them out of him, you noticed his face pale. And then you heard it, Hybern's soldiers.

The trap must have alerted them and they would be here any minute.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Rhys had told Az that you drank a few sips of water and ate a tiny bit. As soon as he got the news, he was running to your room. You hadn't responded to anyone at all yet but he seemed to be filled with a new hope.

So, he sat here talking to you and couldn't keep a smile off his face.

"I heard you got some food down, I'm proud of you." He gently offered his words.

He stayed with you for the rest of the day, talking to you about any and everything. He had never spoken so much in his life.

Months passed after that with no more improvements in your condition, it seemed you would never get better. He knew he fell in love with you no matter how hard he tried to stop it, so he fought like hell to hold onto whatever hope he had.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

You dragged Az with all your strength over to Rhys and Feyre. She seemed to be doing ok despite the arrow still sticking out of her thigh. She had pulled the arrows out of Rhys but he was still very hurt.

"Are you ok to winnow?" You asked Rhys.

"I think so, but I won't be able to carry all three of you." He spoke through pained breaths.

"You don't need to. Just get Feyre and Az out of here." You commanded your High Lord.

You knew that if they stayed, you would all be dead. Rhys couldn't carry all of you in his condition, you just hoped he would listen to what you told him to do.

"What? No, how will you get out?" Azriel whispered from the ground.

"I have a plan." You told him.

"You three can't fight, you will die if you stay here. Winnow them out and get Az to a healer." You told Rhys through your mind.

He seemed to be going back and forth in his head, trying to figure out a different way. He gave you a weary look.

"There's no other way. I'll be ok, you have to go now. They're almost here." You added.

The soldiers came running in, ready to attack. You ran right at them, fighting them so they couldn’t get to the other three. You could hear Az screaming to stay as Rhys grabbed him and winnowed out.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

He had been drunk for three days straight at this point. He welcomed the numbness after all the agony he has felt. Once it was night time, he made his way to your room and sat down outside of your door to sleep, just like he did every night in case you needed him.

In the morning, Feyre passed by your door. Az was still asleep and smelled of booze.

She quietly snuck past him and went into your room.

"Hey, I'm not sure what to say or do to help you. But I wanted to let you know how hard Azriel is trying. I mean...you know that but I just want you to realize how much he loves you. How much we all love you. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about what happened, I wish it had been me instead... but you need to know that Azriel is drowning. He is drowning without you. I have never seen him like this and I think we might lose him for good. If you don't have the strength to fight for yourself, please… fight for him." Feyre pleaded with you.

You didn't respond but what she said stuck with you. You had tried everything but it didn't matter, you couldn't find the strength to help yourself. Maybe it would be easier to find strength for the one you love.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

"We just got word. Y/N is alive and we have her location." Rhys spoke quickly.

Azriel shot up from his spot, getting his weapons ready instantly.

As soon as everyone was set, they left to rescue you. After a couple hours, they found you. You were bloody and bruised all over, chained up. Tears welled up in Azriel's eyes but he focused on saving you. He flew you home and you showed Rhys everything.

Rhys saw how you were tortured, starved, and beat every day. He saw how they questioned you about the Night Court and you never gave up anything. You were held captive for three months…he wasn’t sure how you survived.

After they saved you and found out everything you went through, Azriel helped you bathe. You never talked, just nodded or shook your head and you never looked up. He was so grateful you were safe and back with them but he sure did miss your smile.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It was a beautiful morning, you sat watching the orange and pink sky as the city woke up. There was a knock at the door and Az walked in. He didn’t speak as he set a tray of breakfast foods and coffee down. You didn’t even look over at him but not because you were still checked out. No, this time it was because you couldn’t pull your eyes from the beauty of the sunrise.

You aren’t exactly sure why but you felt something crack inside of you, this was the first time since you were taken that you felt something positive. It was the first time you wanted to live to see these pink and orange hues again.

When Azriel looked over at you he realized there were tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Are you ok?! What’s wrong!?” He panicked, checking everywhere for threats.

“It’s beautiful.” You choked out in between sobs, pointing at the sunrise.

He let out a breath he had been holding in and visibly relaxed. He sat next to you and pulled you close. You leaned into him and he put his arm around you. Neither of you talked, just enjoyed watching the sky come to life in front of you.

He looked down at you after some time had passed and saw the faintest smile on your face. It was barely there but he saw it and that was all that mattered.

“It’s breathtaking.” Azriel stated.

You shook your head in agreement, but what you didn’t know was that he wasn’t talking about the view, he was talking about you.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

“Please please please!” You begged Azriel.

“You woke me up at 4am to watch the sunrise?!” He mumbled with a look of irritation on his face.

“You have to see it! I promise it’ll be worth it!” You continued to beg.

“Fine but I’m not going to be happy about it.” He grunted as he got out of bed, following you to the balcony.

You pulled him down next to you, the pure excitement and adoration you had for something as simple as a sunrise made the spymaster’s heart clench.

The both of you sat and watched the sunrise and you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Isn’t it so beautiful?” You asked him without taking your eyes from the sky.

“It really is.” He responded without taking his eyes from you.

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#acotar #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #azriel imagine #azriel angst #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic

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suibiansubs · 10 months ago

Text

Announcing: The Closure of Suibian Subs

It's never truly easy to make these type of announcements... but what would I know, I've never had to make one like this before:

I am announcing the permanent closure of Suibian Subs. The public discord server and translation work will cease.

As for our downloads, we are still deciding whether to offer them on our tumblr - which will stay open - or if there is a better solution going forward.

Please note that this doesn't mean everyone should race to upload MDZS audio drama to Youtube!! We still do not appreciate our wishes being broken.

However, if you have a friend who's downloaded the audio drama, you can have them share with you privately either online or in person. Do not upload it for the public anywhere.

Treasure Chest subs is currently working on MDZS audio drama subs. Please find their information to get access to their downloads, and respect their rules.

Thank you everyone for your kind words and support these 6-7 years.

If you're truly wondering, this closing is not about the server hack. It's 10% server hack and 90% member interest. The server being hacked is what really brought things into perspective for us. That is:

It's just time.

A little note from kittykat2010 down below:

From kittykat2010:

It's kind of hard to believe this all happened because I was impatient. LOL

I was impatient and decided to try MTL translating the MDZS audio drama, myself. We all know how well that would've worked. Luckily, the first person to contact me was iarrod before I released anything

"Since 2018, Suibian Subs has been providing quality subtitles, especially known for subtitling the MDZS audio drama, for fans to enjoy worldwide."

I never really thought it would be of such significance to hundreds of people. It was simply a passion project between iarrod and I. Then we added a bunch of other members: Gwyn, askcj1, Yen, and several more that have left over the years... and the rest is history.

Yes, people come and go, life changes, they need to take a break, then a "break" turns into leaving. Sometimes personalities clash and drama ensues. And the group either recovers from these types of changes or struggles to come back to its full glory.

I will certainly miss the camaraderie among us, the random chats, the streams, etc. It was all a fun time in my life that I will look back on and cherish.

Thank you especially to all of the team members, translators and subbing team, for sticking around, enjoying the good times and not-so-good times. Thank you iarrod for helping me out when I was so damn impatient - ha!.

Thank you to those members who have left for your work and dedication to the server.

Thank you fans!!!

Those who have donated (when we had donations for the MDZS audio drama team), those who have thanked us for our work, and those who haven't. Those who have told everyone that the MDZS audio drama is the best adaption of the novel and the best/only place to watch is through Suibian Subs.

Again, thank you everyone. Suibian Subs and its fans will truly be missed.

#suibiansubs #suibian subs #suibian subs closing

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directdogman · 14 days ago

Note

Dialtown is the most USA-core game I've ever played. It's so fucking American that it's scary, and I've lived there my entire life! Like, this feels fundamentally tied with the game's themes and narrative, that's how extreme it is. And it's not even alienating OR nationalist?? It makes such genuine commentary? And then there's so much other shit to think about too; Dialtown has a very real identity outside this that anyone could love?

One: I am VERY impressed that you have done the USA and its people this well. I am actually astounded, bewildered, and chuffed. I've never felt so seen by a video game, culturally-speaking. I didn't even know there was a culture to see.

Two: WHY did you do that. Dialtown is like USA Culture Absurdified: The Visual Novel. What drove you to make a game this rich with American culture and ideas???

Hello!

It would've been odd for an outsider (non American) who enjoys reading up on history to make my setting nationalist or alienating. America is a country with a lot of serious issues. You can't really study how America is (and has been) internally run without facing glaring and obvious systematic issues. DT's setting is one of scarcity and most of the main characters you follow in DT are kinda just scraping by without much hope for true mobility/advancement. A lot of Americans (especially younger generations) would agree this sorta encapsulates the national mood of the country right now.

Of course, the systems that run a country don't define its citizens - many of the finest people I've ever known are American and are victims of the whims of those with power, not willing participants in this system. I could be wrong, but that's why I think the setting connected with a lot of people. We all know Randys, Olivers + Karens, people who've fallen through the cracks in some way. To them, America's spirit of self-determination isn't about individual identity - it's more "you're on your own."

Why I chose to set DT in America would be a novel length answer in of itself, but it mainly came down to history + narrative opportunity. I wanted to set the game in the epicenter of where the phone-revolution came from and Crown likely couldn't have pulled his plan off anywhere else and probably not during any other time. It had to be 1960's America.

Of course, some parts of DT are sorta universal and were inspired by the the Great Recession and what followed. I remember there was an area not that far from my house that was full of green fields when I was born and when I was a kid (and when real estate boomed), stuff started being built there. Parts of it looked really nice, not quite like anything nearby. Like the future was coming. Then the economy crashed and stuff was left sitting there, half-built for like a decade. Skeletal, unfinished buildings. DT is much the same.

There's a feeling that the city could've been something better and while things could be more equal, it does feel like there are no easy solutions to fix everything - unless someone very smart and determined somehow bypassed every safeguard that was set up to halt radical change and enacted a genius plan to somehow eliminate scarcity. It happened once and might never again.

I don't think most people understand the intricacies of stuff like global commerce all that well (myself included), but when you're sitting looking at a half built neighbourhood mere hours after speaking to a friend who just kicked out of rented accommodation and doesn't have a stable family unit to fall back on, you'd have to be a real dolt not to understand that things aren't great right now. Most people are scraping by and feel if they could just get affordable housing locked down, if they had maybe one good opportunity - maybe there's hope that things could change for the better.

The end of DT isn't really utopian, things don't massively change for the better and indeed, the town has a lot of rebuilding to do. But, a collection of lonely people are now looking out for each other and through the relationships they have, now feel like they have a place in this world. That no matter how bad things really get - they aren't truly by themselves anymore. Most individuals don't have the means to significantly advance change on their own - but you can live your life, love those around you and support others and plan for when the opportunity to affect change comes about.

I guess that's what life is, in America or anywhere else. Sorry I rambled for so long. Hope this answered the question!

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childrenofcain-if · 3 days ago

Note

CW: CANNIBALISM

W is just the character who'd go all ride-or-die for us 👁️👁️ I am LOOKING! With all the cannibalism allegation, would they join us if there was a Bones and All AU with MC being an eater? Out of all the ROs, I feel like they're the only one who'd accept us like that from the very beginning

the bullying began so long ago that it felt like cicadas in the summer or the thrum of air conditioning inside your house—always there, always insidious.

W was delicate in ways the world found easy to prey upon, not because they were weak but because they felt too much. it showed in the way their hands trembled when they clenched them, in the tears that gathered in their eyes when the laughter of their tormentors reached their ears.

you had spent years trying to stop it. standing in hallways with your fists balled, staring down cole and his cronies, daring them to come closer. sometimes it worked—your defiance could scatter them like pigeons startled from a rooftop—but only for a time. they always returned, like a bad bout of winter, colder and harsher than before.

cole had always been there—a looming, destructive presence that crushed everything in his path. he was bigger than life, in size and ego, in anger and entitlement, and he flaunted his privilege like no other. his father’s influence whispered behind closed doors, his fists a language of violence that left bruises on W’s ribs and a tremor in their voice.

for years, you had tried to shield W, to draw his fire onto yourself when it became too much. for years, W had endured it.

“i told the principal again,” W had said one day, their voice brittle with exhaustion. “he just gave me that look, you know? the one where you can tell he’s already decided not to care.”

and you did know. you’d seen it before, that glazed-over indifference. cole’s father sat on the school board like some sort of king, his power extending over even the smallest squabbles of the student body. but what felt small to the school was enormous to W.

“i’ll fix it,” you had promised them, even as you didn’t know how.

the solution had come from your father, as many of them did. elias, who rarely spoke in anger but could wield his wealth like a weapon when the moment demanded it.

“i’ll buy the entire damn school board if i have to,” he had said when you told him about the bullying. and elias didn’t make empty threats.

cole was ‘transferred’ soon after, the details vague but the outcome seemed decent. and for a while, it seemed like things might actually change.

but cole wasn’t one to let things go.

W had confessed it in a choked whisper the other day, tears carving clean lines down their dirt-smudged cheeks.

“cole’s still… i think he’s following me,” they had said, their voice shaking like a leaf caught in a gale. “he waits for me after school. he knows where i live.”

you’d felt the familiar heat of anger rising in your chest, your fists clenching as you swore you’d make it stop. but what could you possibly do as a high school junior that your father hadn’t already done?

what could you do to a boy like cole, whose world was built on the certainty that no one would ever truly punish him?

the gas station was quiet, the flickering of the neon lights outside the only sound as you paid for your drink and stepped out into the cooling evening air.

the pavement under your sneakers was warm from the day’s sun. you were halfway down the road, the horizon a bleeding canvas of pink and gold, when you heard the blue corvette pull up beside you.

cole’s voice was a venomous drawl as he grinned wolfishly and got out of his car. “hey there, long time no see.”

you took a step back. “leave me the fuck alone, cole.”

he didn’t. of course he didn’t.

before you could react, his arm snaked around your neck, pulling you into a headlock. his strength was overwhelming, his gym-built muscles like iron bars against your skin.

you struggled, your sneakers scraping against the asphalt as he dragged you, half-choking, toward the cornfield on the side of the road.

panic surged through you, hot and electric. you thrashed against him, clawing at his arm, but it was like fighting a mountain. the stalks of corn closed in around you, their rustling leaves swallowing the sound of your gasps.

the field swallowed you both, its towering stalks turning the world into a maze of green and gold shadows.

you’d never liked cornfields. there was something too perfect, too endless about them, rows upon rows standing like soldiers awaiting orders. today, they were silent. watching. waiting.

you stumbled over uneven ground, your sneakers catching on roots, the dirt kicking up into your face. the air stunk with the green smell of crushed stalks and the faint, acrid sting of gasoline from the vehicles that passed the highway after getting a refill from the nearby gas station.

cole’s arm was an iron band around your neck, cutting off air, and you could feel his sweat slick against your skin. you clawed at his forearm, nails digging deep enough to leave crescents, but he didn’t even flinch. his breathing was heavy, labored, as if he were dragging a bag of stones and not another human being.

“stop struggling,” he growled, voice sounding like gravel scraping against a rusted shovel. “it’s not gonna make this easier for you.”

you didn’t answer. not like you could even if you wanted to. your words would be crushed beneath the weight of his arm, your lungs burning. but even if you could have spoken, you wouldn’t have begged. not to him. not to anyone.

the world narrowed to the two of you, his strength against your will. you twisted your body, kicking at his shin with a desperation that sent a flare of pain up your leg, but he only hissed and tightened his grip.

finally, he shoved you forward, and you fell to your knees, gasping for air, the dirt biting into your palms. you scrambled to your feet, but he was faster, grabbing your shoulder and spinning you around. his face was twisted with rage, lips pulled back in something too animal to be called a smile.

“you think you’re so fucking superior, don’t you?” he snarled. “you and that little freak friend of yours. you think you can ruin my life and just walk away?”

your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, glaring up at him.

“you ruined your own life, cole,” you spat out. “you’ve been a bully since the day you learned how to swing your fists in order to get your way. W’s ten times the person you’ll ever be, and you always picked on them for no reason other than to satisfy your own sick pleasure.”

that struck a nerve. his face twisted, the veins in his neck standing out like cords. he lunged, grabbing the front of your shirt and hauling you up so your faces were inches apart.

“shut your fucking mouth if you know what’s good for you,” he hissed. “you don’t know anything about me.”

“oh, i know enough,” you said, the poison in your voice surprising even yourself. “i know your dad’s been cleaning up your messes for years. must be hard to grow up knowing the only time you feel like a man is when you’re picking on other kids.”

“you don’t know anything,” he repeated, his voice trembling now, not with nervousness, but with something far more dangerous.

and then he was on you, his hands around your throat, squeezing until the world started blurring out. your hands scrabbled at his wrists, but his grip was unrelenting, and the familiar panic clawed its way back up your chest.

the world tilted, the cornfield spinning around you, the green and gold blurring together into something surreal and wrong.

you thought of W then, their tear-streaked face, their voice breaking as they confided in you about anything and everything. you thought of all the times you’d tried to protect them, only to fail. and now, here you were, about to become another one of cole’s victims.

your fingers brushed against something cold and hard— a rock, jagged and solid. you didn’t think. you didn’t have the time to think. your body moved on instinct, your arm swinging wide and bringing the rock down on the side of his head.

the sound was wet and final, a krrack! that seemed to echo through the field, bouncing off the stalks and the sky and the earth itself.

cole froze above you, his hands falling away from your neck, his expression slack, his eyes wide and uncomprehending. for a moment, he was just a boy—a scared sixteen-year-old boy. his mouth opening as if to speak, but no words came out. and then he crumpled, his body hitting the ground beside you with a thud that sent a shudder through your own.

you staggered back, the rock slipping from your fingers. your breath came in shallow gasps, your throat raw and burning. you stared at him, at the way his body lay twisted in the dirt, his eyes staring up at the sky, unblinking.

“cole?” you whispered, your voice breaking. “cole.”

he didn’t move.

it hit you then, a wave of horror so strong it nearly made you yell. you’d killed him. you’d killed cole.

the cornfield was silent, the only sound your ragged breathing and the distant whir of cars passing occasionally on the highway. you were alone, and yet you weren’t. the field was watching, the world was watching, and you could feel their eyes on you, accusing and hungry and unrelenting.

your stomach churned, bile rising in your throat, but you couldn’t look away.

his blood was pooling beneath his head, dark and viscous, soaking into the dirt like ink spilling onto a page. the sight of it did something to you, something primal and terrible, like the tearing of a pomegranate, the way the seeds spilled out, red and glistening, the taste sharp and metallic. you felt that same hunger now, a gnawing ache deep in your chest, as if something inside you had been waiting for this moment, waiting to be fed.

but it wasn’t just hunger. it was revulsion, too, a sickening mix of desire and disgust that made you want to scream, to run, to claw at your own skin until you felt clean again. your hands trembled as you reached out, then pulled back, unsure of what to do, of who you even were anymore.

your hands then reached back out as if making up their minds. you stared, horrified and helpless, as they extended toward cole’s still body, fingers curling into claws. they tore through the fabric of his shirt, breaking the fragile barrier of skin with a wet sound that made bile rise to the back of your throat.

but the bile didn’t come, and neither did the disgust you expected earlier. instead, there was only this strange hunger.

it was euphoric, thrumming through your veins like a song you’d always known but never sung aloud. your fingers plunged deeper, seeking, finding, and ripping. there was no hesitation, no thought. just action. your hands disappeared into the cavity of his chest, the slick warmth of blood coating your skin, your nails scraping against bone.

somewhere, far away, a still-sane part of you screamed to stop, to look away, to do anything but this, but the hunger drowned out everything else.

and then your teeth joined the fray. you didn’t remember when you leaned forward, when your lips pressed to his ruined chest, but suddenly you were biting, tearing, devouring. the first taste was an explosion, the metallic flavor tinged with something indescribably sweet, like burnt sugar at the edges of a flame.

it was ambrosia, a feast fit for gods, and it belonged to you.

you tore through the sinew and tissue with an ease that startled you, your jaw working like it had done this a thousand times before. blood smeared across your face, sticky and warm, running down your chin and pooling in the hollow of your throat.

you didn’t give a shit about it though. all that mattered was the taste, the sensation of this human’s flesh yielding beneath your teeth, the way his ribs opened up like a flower blooming only for you.

his heart was your favourite. you held it in your hands for a moment, its weight startlingly small, before sinking your teeth into the tender muscle. it was softer than you’d expected, almost delicate, and the flavor burst across your tongue like a symphony of everything you’d ever craved but never known how to name. your body sang with it, every nerve alight, every sense in perfect harmony.

cole’s hazel eyes came next. you couldn’t stand their glassy, lifeless stare, the way they seemed to accuse you even in death. they were soft, too, yielding easily beneath your teeth, and though the taste was a little bitter, it was satisfying in a way that you hadn’t expected. you chewed them slowly, the squelch of it audible as you savored each bite until there was nothing left to see, nothing left to judge you.

cole had it coming, hadn’t he? the thought floated to the surface of your mind, tenuous and fragile, as if spoken by someone else entirely. he’d hurt W, tormented them, made their life a living hell. he’d hurt you, too, dragged you into this field with the intent to kill, his hands around your throat and his hatred burning in his eyes.

this was your own kind of justice, wasn’t it?

and yet, as the hunger began to ebb, as the primal urge receded like a tide, the horror set in. you sat back on your heels, your hands and face slick with blood, your stomach churning with the realization of what you’d done.

cole’s body—or what remained of it—lay sprawled before you, unrecognizable, torn apart by your own hands and teeth.

you gagged, your body convulsing with dry retches, but nothing came up. the hunger had consumed everything, left no room for regret or revulsion to expel itself.

you pressed a shaking bloody hand to your chest, feeling the rapid thrum of your heartbeat, and fumbled for your phone with the other.

the screen blurred through tears you hadn’t realized were falling, but you managed to pull up W’s number. your fingers shook so badly you almost dropped the phone as you pressed it to your ear. the dial tone felt endless, every second stretching into eternity, until finally, W’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“hello?” their voice was soft, hesitant, as if they could already sense something was wrong.

“W,” you choked out, your voice barely recognizable. “i n-need you. please. please come.”

“where are you?” their tone shifted instantly, concern overtaking caution. “what happened? are you okay?”

“the cornfield,” you said, your words tumbling out in a rush. “somewhere near the gas station which has the neon signs. cole’s car is there. please, just—just come. i can’t—” your voice broke, a sob escaping before you could stop it.

“hey, hey, it’s okay,” W said quickly, their voice soothing, though you could hear the edge of panic creeping in. “i’m on my way. stay there, okay? don’t move.”

the call ended, and you were left alone again, the silence of the field becoming all too much. you looked down at your hands, at the blood smeared across your skin, the pieces of cole’s flesh that clung to your nails, and your stomach twisted.

you couldn’t move. all you could do was wait, the hunger still lurking at the edges of your mind, a shadow that promised it wasn’t finished with you quite yet.

W gripped the steering wheel tightly, their knuckles pale and fingers trembling as they pushed the old sedan past the speed limit. the engine groaned in protest, but they didn’t care. you were out there, somewhere, and you needed them. that was the only thought that mattered, drowning out the rush of adrenaline, the fear gnawing at the edges of their mind.

their sapphire blue eyes scanned the evening road ahead, headlights cutting through the sudden thick fog that clung to the landscape.

the gas station came into view first, a dimly lit beacon with its neon lights, and then after driving past it for a couple more minutes—there it was. the blue corvette. it gleamed faintly under the flicker of a dying streetlamp, its ostentatious frame a cruel reminder of the boy who’d tormented them for years.

W gulped, their hands briefly tightening on the wheel. a part of them wanted to turn back, to leave cole and everything he represented behind, but they shoved the thought aside. you were out there. you were in danger.

if they were going to be brave for anyone, it would be for you.

they parked a little ways down the road, their chuck taylors almost slipping on the wet asphalt as they stepped out into the night.

the rain had begun to fall in earnest now, a steady drizzle that dampened their hair and clothes within seconds. they wiped their hands against their jeans, steeling themselves, and followed the faint drag marks leading into the cornfield.

the stalks towered over them, swaying in the breeze and slapping against their skin as they pushed through. every creak and rustle was amplified by the silence of the evening, but W ignored it, their focus narrowing to the path ahead.

they could hear something now, soft and broken—your voice. crying.

they quickened their pace, the corn whipping against their face, leaving red welts on their cheeks. each step brought new fear, new scenarios conjured by their racing mind. what if cole had hurt you? what if he’d dragged you into the field and left you for dead? what if—

but what they found wasn’t what they’d expected.

W froze, their breath catching in their throat as they stumbled into the clearing. you were there, lying in the dirt, your shoulders hunched and shaking as you sobbed. blood covered you—your face, your hands, your clothes—and it didn’t seem to be yours. it stained the earth around you, pooled in dark puddles, smeared across your mouth like some grotesque parody of a smile.

and then there was cole. or what was left of him, to be precise.

his body lay crumpled nearby, torn open, half-eaten. his chest was a ruin of gore, ribs splintered and jutting out like jagged teeth. his face—what remained of it—was twisted in a rictus of terror: lower jaw torn off and missing, ears half-bitten, empty eye sockets.

W’s stomach lurched, bile rising in their throat, but they swallowed it down.

“oh god,” they whispered, their voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.

you looked up then, your bloodstained face contorted with grief and fear.

“elmo,” you choked out, the nickname slipping past your lips like you were five again. “i didn’t mean to. i don’t know what happened. i didn’t—”

W didn’t let you finish. they crossed the distance between you in three long strides, dropping to their knees in the mud. they wrapped their arms around you, pulling you close despite the blood, despite the gore, despite everything.

“it’s okay,” they murmured, their voice shaking but steady enough for your sake. “it’s okay. i’ve got you. you’re okay.”

you sobbed into their shoulder, your fingers clutching at their shirt as if you could anchor yourself to them, as if they were the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.

“i didn’t want to,” you whispered. “i didn’t want to do this. it wasn’t my fault.”

“i know,” W said, even as their mind reeled. they couldn’t stop staring at cole’s body, at the brutality you’d left behind, but they forced the thoughts away. you needed them right now, and that was all that mattered.

the rain had begun to fall harder, washing away the blood from your skin and theirs, mixing it with the mud beneath you. W gently cupped your face, their thumb brushing away the streaks of red that the rain hadn’t reached.

“listen to me,” they said, their tone firmer now. you’d never seen them so serious and determined. “you’re coming home with me, okay? my aunt and uncle are out of town. we’ll get you cleaned up, and we’ll figure out what to do next. together.”

you nodded, your eyes wide and glassy, like a child’s. “what about…” you trailed off, glancing at cole’s body, your expression crumpling with fresh grief.

W followed your gaze, their stomach twisting.

“it looks like an animal attack,” they said slowly, the words tasting foreign in their mouth. “there are wolves out here. bears, too. we’ll let the rain do the rest. nobody has to know.”

you nodded again, but your hands still trembled as you tried to wipe the blood from them. W reached into their pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, and started cleaning your face as best they could. the fabric turned red almost instantly, but they didn’t stop until most of the blood was gone.

the rain was on your side, washing away the rest—your footprints, the drag marks, the blood trail leading to the clearing. W pulled you to your feet, steadying you as you swayed, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

they led you back to the car, their mind racing. they weren’t sure what to think, what to feel.

cole was dead, and a part of them—a small, shameful part—felt relief. he couldn’t hurt them anymore. he couldn’t hurt you. but the sight of you covered in blood, the memory of his mangled body… it would stay with them forever.

for now, though, they pushed it all aside. they focused on getting you to the car, on getting you home, on making sure you were okay. the rest could wait.

the rest would have to wait.

#well...#i think i cooked too much here #W is 100% gonna match MC’s freak tho 👀#‘bones and all’ is one of my fav movies ever so i got too excited with the prompt #um part 2 anyone?#also lemme know if i should tone down on the gore 💀#tw: cannibalism #cw: cannibalism #cw: gore #if: the ballad of the young gods #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive story #twine wip #ro: w ostendorf #ro scenarios

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komorim · 7 months ago

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borrowed time

-> zhongli x gn!reader

[ synopsis. ] it wasn’t the first time morax has experienced the lost of a dear one. but you were different. you were a mortal, not an adeptus, and he was prepared for your departure from him since the beginning. but along with your relatively short lifespan, there was something else…

‣ when the earth bleeds ⋮ find the masterlist here !!

[ content warnings. ] character death. angst. reincarnation. there’s not a lot to say; it’s not dark content.

[ word count. ] 3.8k

[ author’s note. ] yayy! the second one shot of my pair of one shot collections! i had this almost finished for so long but never got the chance to actually write the last few paragraphs. (i did not mean for the second one shot to come out like a year later…at least im not dead!) this also ended up being a lot more longer than i intended it to be…(this is 3.8k????????????) but oh well, enjoy!

you don’t remember how long it has been after you died. after all, you continued to live your life normally. it was only natural that the exact time passed has become blurry to you.

though you remembered everything that happened after you had died. you remember the voice in your head and explaining the whole circumstance to you, and you remember seeing zhongli around liyue as you continued to “live.”

the whole ordeal wasn’t that complicated actually. simply put, you had such a strong love and longing for your immortal fiancé that it was dangerous to let you just pass on. if you couldn’t resolve the knot of regret that sprouted the moment you died, you would likely turn into a disruptive spirit, and the best way to solve the issue was for you to let go of the things that still tied you down to the world of the living.

the solution was for you to let go of zhongli.

it seemed impossible, and you almost laughed when you heard about the mysterious voice telling you that you had to fulfill your regrets. but your regret was not being able to accompany zhongli for the rest of his long, never ending life.

how were you supposed to resolve that regret?

your first thought was to follow zhongli throughout his daily life, thinking that if you saw that he could live on happily, or better yet, if he could find someone to accompany him like you once did, that you could soothe the agony in your heart. even though the thought of him finding someone to replace you tugged on your heart and made it ache, you found it to be better than to see him live in solitary after your passing.

however, what you saw as you followed him was only the ways that he would force a smile on and push through tiredly through each day. you could tell that he still hadn’t completely digested the reality of your death, and he wasn’t having an easy time too.

you originally thought it risky to follow him around so much, as the geo archon was always someone of high observational skills, but he was rather busy with mourning to notice the silent eyes that watched him day and night.

and even though your original plan was simply to follow him and see how he was doing, you soon became greedy and wanted to be next to his side again. you knew that it would not only cause complications if he found out who you were, but it also would only make the feeling of regret grow larger. and yet you couldn’t help it. no matter how long it truly has been after your death, you knew it was far too long to be away from him.

you missed him. you missed being in his arms, missed taking walks with him, missed the feel of his hand in yours, missed the soft and gentle voice he used when he called out your name. you missed it all.

you tried convincing yourself that because you’re only alive temporarily, the mysterious force had changed your appearance to avoid raising suspicion and he wouldn’t be able to recognize you. you wanted to give yourself every single excuse to justify that it was okay for you to approach him once more.

as long as you left before he found out and you got too attached, you’re sure that it would be fine. you’ll even use a different name to avoid him catching on.

though what were you thinking? you were facing zhongli, a previous archon who had many years of experience and knowledge.

and the knowledge that he had on you was probably the greatest.

you have introduced yourself to the wangsheng funeral parlor consultant as someone who has heard many things about him, and wished to seek information about morax’s past. being as respectful and responsible as he is, he offered to meet after he got off “work,” suggesting for you to see him at third-round knockout. you agree eagerly, happy with any opportunity to be with him.

you arrive early, too excited to do anything else but wait in anticipation, and when you finally see him heading your way, you wave.

“mister zhongli!”

he gives you a curt nod as he takes the seat opposite of you. “hello, did i keep you waiting too long?”

you shake your head and hands, “no, not at all. i just arrived not too long ago.”

you exchange the normal formalities and after a short while of asking about how morax was like and the accomplishments he’s achieved, you ask what you were really wondering. how would he feel at the mention of you? will he brush it off and pretend not to know you, or will he reminisce the time he spent with you while you were on the earth?

“is something wrong?” zhongli asks, expressing his concern for your sudden silence.

“it might just be a rumor…but i’ve heard that morax once had a partner before. do you know anything about their relationship?”

zhongli’s hand stiffens in midair as he was about to take another sip of his tea. he sets the teacup down shortly and looks away, seeming to feel awkward upon your question.

“a partner…? ah, i see. yes, i believe they were quite a harmonious couple. i don’t know much about this as it wasn’t widely recorded.”

it was your turn to freeze as your mind runs wild, thinking about all the possibilities for why he wouldn’t disclose anything. was he ashamed of you? did he not think you were worthy enough to mention? with all these questions consuming your mind, the rest of your conversation with zhongli was short and lackluster.

when you were about to take your leave, you convey your thanks for zhongli’s information and turn away, yet he grabs your wrist gently before you could take another step.

“you…will i see you again? you remind me of a dear companion of mine. i’d like to be in your company once more sometime.”

you smile warmly and nod, “of course, mister zhongli. it would be a pleasure to meet with you again.”

he seems to look relieved as his facial expressions relax. he returns your smile and lets go of your wrist somewhat unwillingly as you finally part ways with him.

though unbeknownst to you, his eyes followed your shape as you walk further and further away.

the next few days were spent with you next to zhongli’s side—so much that other acquaintances of his suspected the possibility of the two of you dating. and when you both walked by yet another small shop immersed in a light-hearted conversation, you hear a man’s voice call out to zhongli.

“mister zhongli!” he approaches the him as you both stop in your tracks. “i see you’re with miss y/n again,” he smiles in your direction, a smile knowing and akin to that of an elder. he nudges zhongli with his elbow and leans closer to him to say something you couldn’t quite make out, but by seeing zhongli’s widened eyes you assumed he was caught off guard.

“oh, no, no. i was simply enjoying an afternoon walk with miss yue.” to his response, the man nodded slowly, expression giving the impression that he was not quite convinced by this answer. though he didn’t pursue the topic any further and quickly left you two alone.

you glance at zhongli a few times as your stroll continued and before you could repress your curiosity properly, you were already asking the question.

“so, what did he say to you?”

zhongli’s eyes stray to meet yours for a short second before he chuckles softly. “i believe he was curious if our relationship has progressed beyond simply acquaintances that can share a topic or two.”

even if you thought you were prepared for it, your light hearted smile still dropped at the idea of zhongli having another partner besides you. even if this body was currently inhabited by you, you knew that it was impossible for zhongli to know that. and thus, in technicality, he would be romantically affiliated with another person.

zhongli, being as perceptive as he always was, noticed the slight change in your mood as he stopped with you. your dull eyes that were spacing out in thought slowly meet his golden ones and you catch the worry behind them.

“is something wrong?”

you laugh a bit nervously, your throat suddenly feeling dry as you swallow, trying to come up with something that can fool him. “yes, i…i just wasn’t expecting that.”

his eyebrows furrow slightly and you can tell that he doesn’t buy it. the air between you two is quiet for a long moment and the next time he opens his mouth, his voice sounds a bit less neutral than it usually is. “does the thought of going on a date with me…bother you?”

you wave your hands in distress, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “archons, no! of course not! i greatly enjoy your company, mister zhongli. it’s just i was caught off guard.”

he stares intensely at you, and under the pressure that he unconsciously put on you, you finally speak your mind.

“it’s just…i was thinking about how you’re so knowledgeable about morax, yet you know nothing about his relationships. the sudden lack of consistency made me think that maybe you weren’t interested in any form of romance, so i was worried that you-”

“yue, my feelings for you most definitely extends beyond mere friendship,” he says, interrupting your ramble before you got carried away.

his sentence made your heart utterly drop. you had a bitter taste in your mouth and couldn’t think whether to be happy or not. should you celebrate that he could fall in love with you again—even in another body? or should you grieve that he has now completely forgotten your original self and has no more space in his heart for you now that he’s handing it to another? you suddenly felt like your whole world was turned upside down. no matter how much you initially wanted to believe that seeing zhongli happy with someone else would assure you, you know realize that deep down, it truly was you who couldn’t let go of the past.

“i…i’m sorry, mister zhongli, but i must go now.” you hurriedly bow as a form of apology and leave him immediately. as you turned on your heel to almost run away, your eyes stung and the tears you unknowingly kept at bay started to roll down your cheeks.

the moment you settled down by a tree to finally stop and think about the situation, you started to brainwash yourself into believing that you should be happy for zhongli. you should be glad he’s not held back by the memory of you. you should take this chance to let go of him, to finish resolving that knot like you came here to do. though the other part of you pleaded to not just surrender like this, and the internal conflict only grew as you struggled to unify your mind.

so until you could determine a final solution, you decided to just simply detach yourself from zhongli. the frequent meetings were no more as you couldn’t possibly face him like usual anymore; it would only make the mess that is your mind even worse.

though zhongli’s patience wore thin. even if he’s rarely one to be impatient, his attitude always seemed to be different when it came to you.

so after a whole week of you avoiding him like the flu, he finally hunted you down.

when you turned the corner of third-round knockout, you were met with a familiar face and before you could run far, he caught you by the arm.

“y/n. i know it’s you.”

you almost jumped at hearing your real name. you knew that zhongli was smart and hard to fool, but the fact that he actually uncovered your identity is unbelievable.

you turn to face him, and when you saw his distressed eyes and sad frown, you knew you couldn’t lie to him anymore. the moment he recognized your surrender, he pulled you into a hug, arms wrapping around your waist and head leaning into the crook of your neck—an embrace so familiar you would never dream of forgetting it.

“i missed you so much, y/n. please, you can’t even begin to understand how deeply devastated i was when you started distancing yourself from me. my heart sunk at the thought of losing you once more.”

you could feel tears approaching as you returned the hug. “how did you know it was me?”

zhongli pulled away from the hug to hold you at arm’s length, looking at you lovingly. “i could recognize you even if you became a pile of ashes. though it didn’t seem like you had any intention of reuniting with me, so i played along and pretended not to know you as well. but, it appears that it wasn’t the wisest choice on my end,” he sighs, “i should’ve kept you by my side no matter what.”

you smiled. “it’s relieving to know you haven’t forgotten me.”

zhongli’s eyes fill with disbelief, almost appearing offended at the notion. a sad frown is painted on his face as he looks at you softly. “i could never forget you, y/n. you’re the only one i’ve ever held this close to my heart. although you may underestimate your impact towards my life, i assure you that without meeting you, i would’ve turned out to be a less than pleasing person.”

you look away from him, quietly speaking, almost as if talking to yourself instead of him, “i thought you felt differently from the way you denied having knowledge of morax’s partner.”

with how much attention zhongli gives you however, he definitely caught onto what you said. “i was only avoiding the topic since i didn’t want to remind you of the sad times. not being able to give you a proper wedding before you passed was always the biggest regret i had.”

the air is silent for a moment before he cups your face and brings your gaze back to him. he smiles endearingly at you, an idea coming to him suddenly. “how about i give you that promised wedding?”

in the back of your mind, you knew that this body was only temporary, that even if you did go along with the idea, you wouldn’t be able to live with zhongli as a married couple forever. though the offer was too tempting to turn down, so you nodded your head in a silent agreement as you mirrored his smile.

“can we keep it small though? i don’t want such a big audience.” since you knew this wouldn’t last long. you didn’t want zhongli to have to deal with prying questions of where you went whenever your time was up.

“of course, my dear. it will be as you wish.”

so the next few days were spent planning the wedding until the moment came when you heard the celebratory music as you walked down the short aisle. only a few familiar faces were present in accordance to your request of zhongli; you recognized xiao and xianyun and many other friends from your past life and you smiled in their direction. it was evident that they were all happy for you and zhongli, the well known couple of the time.

when you finally stopped to meet zhongli at the end of the aisle, you noticed how he wore the same soft expression that was met with you every time he was in your presence. a few minutes pass as the introductory was given and anything and everything that followed seemed to have past in a blur or sound and colors. your attention was solely on the love of your life in front of you, and nothing was received by your brain until after the classic question was asked and zhongli began speaking his vows.

“in a long time past, we shared our hearts with each other. you accompanied the most important and joyous moments of my long life, only to be separated from me in a cruel joke of fate. i could not do anything as i watched you fall into sickness, and i may have resented the powers that took you away from me. your absence left a void in my soul, and i could only regret that i could not fulfill my promise to you. but blessed as we are, fate has bestowed me with a chance to make those vows a reality in this life as we are once again reunited. with this ring, i pledge to cherish you as i did before, if not more so and longer. i vow to stand by your side no matter the obstacles that we may face, honoring my never ending love for you. today, let us continue the journey that we had started so long ago, and let our fates and hearts remain interconnected throughout this life and beyond.”

your eyes never left zhongli’s as you struggled to match his loving gaze with one of your own. his vow to you composed of too many promises you knew he would be forced to break due to the nature of your stay in the human world. this would not last. you can’t tell if the watery view you had was due to hearing his profound and unwavering love for you or if it was out of sorrow for the knowledge that this was all temporary and won’t be anything beyond that.

though you couldn’t break his heart like that all over again, so you hid the truth inside your heart, even if you knew doing so would hurt the both of you more. you pressed your lips into a small smile and declared your own vows, mimicking zhongli’s in the way that it was filled with empty promises yet very much honest words of how you deeply loved him as well.

your head struggled to remain clear in the short time span that you recited your vows, and by the end of it, you found that you have come to accept the fact that this was all temporary. you knew that it was from the start, so there shouldn’t be so much of a reaction when you’re only just being reminded of the fact.

your rings were then exchanged before your officiant declared the marriage. you smiled at zhongli, genuinely this time, as you finally found peace with the situation you were in. when the officiant finally announced that you and zhongli were now permitted to kiss, you took a small step forward as zhongli’s hands reached out to cup your face. he tilts your face upwards gently, staring into your eyes softly before finally kissing you as your hands rested gently at his sides.

common to loving couples, your wedding kiss lasted rather long. you smiled into the kiss in relief that at the end of this all, at least you were able to officially marry zhongli in this life. yet when you finished thinking about this, you heard that familiar voice in your head.

the voice didn’t have to spell it out for you. you knew that this means that your borrowed time in the human world was finally coming to an end. you admit, you do feel satisfied now knowing that your broken promise from your last life of marrying zhongli was finally fulfilled. though it didn’t help soothe the ache that came with knowing you had to leave much.

you and zhongli pulled away from each other and you felt your body growing lighter each minute that passes as you turn to face your audience—your friends. you smile at them and walk down the aisle with zhongli as you both thank them for joining the event. though as the reception starts, you pull zhongli aside as you smile at him once again, this time not as worry-free.

“what’s wrong?” his face expressing a curious worry, though it doesn’t override the joy he felt from finally being your husband.

you bring up your hands to cup his face as you try to engrave his features into your soul so that you can recognize him when you officially reincarnate. it was then that zhongli finally noticed you blending into the dark night and his eyes filled with a type of sad understanding.

“you…you’re leaving. is that right?”

you nod softly. “it’s okay. i’m happy that at least i was able to be wed to you once. that’s honestly more than i could ask for,” you laugh gently, “i thought that i would’ve had to leave after seeing you move on. but zhongli, i truly do wish that maybe, with time, you can find another that treasures you as much as i do. although it isn’t ideal for me that you’ve found someone else, i don’t wish for you to spend eternity alone. i…i don’t know how long it’ll take for me to reincarnate or if i will for that matter. so,” you caress his face as he leans into your palm, “please don’t spend too long trying to wait for me. if an opportunity for your happiness presents itself before that, i hope you can take it without feeling burdened.”

zhongli chuckles bitterly, “you’re asking something impossible of me. i don’t believe there is anyone other than you that will be able to make me happy.”

“you never know.”

“i do know,” he insists, closing his eyes as he holds the hand you had on his face with his own, “perhaps i will just spend the rest of my life anticipating your return.”

you shake your head with a small smile, not knowing how to deal with his stubbornness in things he’s set his mind on. though both of you knew that your silence meant you had accepted zhongli’s way of handling this.

your body dissipates to almost nothing, though it seems that the powers above have granted you just enough time to finish your farewell with your new husband.

“i don’t mind if it takes eternity for it to happen, but please return to my side one day.” he pauses for a short moment before speaking softly, “i’m sure that we’ll get our happy ending.”

he looks into your eyes as he sees through the borrowed appearance you wore; he sees through all the disguise that they tried to cover you with and he sees the true you. he smiles with eyes that treat you as the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. it was the last thing that you saw before being blown away with the wind.

zhongli’s eyes linger in the direction that you disappeared in as his eyes turn watery at the realization that he lost you once again. he can only wish that you heard his last few words.

“i’ll be waiting.”

do not copy or repost my works. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated.

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hungermakesmonsters · 5 months ago

Text

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Epilogue

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smut and fluff. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 4.3k

A/N : 😭

MASTER LIST

Epilogue

It wasn’t easy.

But, then, when had anything in your life ever really been easy?

In the weeks that followed, you struggled to adapt to your new reality, your body waking you at daybreak and having you exhausted by nightfall, suffering with pangs of hunger that seemed almost unquenchable. Both Frank and Billy told you it would get better, that you would adjust, but that didn’t stop the occasional breakdown, the moments where everything felt like it was too much.

You watched as Billy’s heart broke over and over again, when he’d find you on the floor in your kitchen, sobbing and eating oreos, or walking around the penthouse in the middle of the day so exhausted that you could barely function.

On the bad days, he would take you into his rooms, close the curtains and hold you in pitch blackness, softly shushing you as you sobbed in his arms, whispering gentle apologies in your ear.

Feeding wasn’t any easier; you still gagged and felt sick sometimes, and certain kinds of blood didn’t seem to agree with you.

Finally you understood why Billy had made you follow such strict rules when it came to your health and diet as sometimes, some blood left you feeling ill like you’d eaten something that had gone off. And, as your senses became more acute, it only seemed to get worse.

But, eventually, a solution was found to every problem; Billy stayed with you for weeks, helping you adjust to your new day/night cycle, and special blood was ordered for you once he figured out exactly what you needed. And, once those issues were sorted, your breakdowns became fewer until you finally felt like you could handle your new life.

After that, the only issue left was Billy and your relationship.

You loved him, and you knew that he loved you, but you needed time. Everything between you had happened so quickly and it felt like you’d missed out on so many steps. When you finally felt up to it, Billy started to take you out on dates; to dinner, to museum exhibitions, and even to the cinema. Little things, little steps that allowed you to grow closer as a couple. And, at the end of every night, he left you to decide if you wanted to sleep in his bed or your own.

The physical side of your relationship didn’t change or slow; Billy couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you and you didn’t want him to. Being a vampire made everything feel heightened and you soon got why Billy craved moments of touch and intimacy. But, as far as your relationship went, you took things slowly.

And, after a few months, you were finally able to do what you’d told him you wanted to do. You found a job.

It was only a few nights a week at a local library and, for the first couple of weeks, Billy had insisted on walking you there and back, but he soon had to focus on his own work and you were able to gain the sense of freedom that you sought, both physically and financially.

Billy laughed every time you tried to pay for something or split a check, telling you to spend your money on yourself, on things that you wanted, things that would make you happy. At first, it annoyed you but, as you got closer, and you became privy to things like his finances, you realised just how wealthy he was.

But you didn’t let that deter you. You’d taken a job because you wanted to be able to contribute and that’s exactly what you started doing.

It was a cactus first. A tiny plant that you hoped would grow much bigger. You’d read that, in the right environment and with proper care, some cacti could live hundreds of years and that was what you wanted; something that would stay with you over the decades.

When you’d first brought the tiny little thing into the penthouse, Billy had frowned, then laughed, before getting a little table from the library for it to sit on and placing it by the window.

Over the weeks that followed, you got more plants, more things that made the penthouse feel like a home; cushions, lamps, artwork for the wall. You even insisted on hanging some fairy lights around that, when turned on, gave the place a magical and romantic glow.

And Billy went along with it, never complaining, always helping you, whether it was putting up more shelves for plants, hanging lights, or moving furniture to make space.

Karen gushed over the new furnishings, commenting on how Billy’s bachelor pad now looked like a real home, and your heart melted when he responded that it was a home now that you were in it.

And, every now and then, Billy would turn up with a new stuffed animal for you, until you had a small menagerie of stuffies, each with names more ridiculous than the last, all some loose version of Billy - though he threatened to stop when you announced that one of them was to be called Billiam.

After five months had passed, you’d fallen into a rhythm with Billy and, for the first time in your life, everything felt perfect. You were happy, you were in love. All the self-doubt and uncertainty that you’d carried when you first arrived at the penthouse was gone. And, no matter how much time passed, Billy seemed intent on constantly surprising you and doing everything he could to keep showing you that he loved you.

The moment Karen offered to pick you up after work on your birthday, you knew something was going on, you knew she’d been roped into one of his schemes. But nothing could have prepared you for the surprise party that was waiting for you when the elevator doors slid open and you stepped into the penthouse.

Everybody yelled ‘surprise’ as they jumped from their hiding spots, but the moment your eyes found him, it felt like there was no one else in the room.

He stepped towards you and took your hand in his before kissing you softly.

“Happy birthday, hummingbird,” he said with a smile that always made you feel loved and safe in equal measure.

“Did you do all of this on your own?” You asked, finally letting your gaze drift about the penthouse.

“I had a little bit of help from Karen,” he admitted. “But I do have something else for you, something special that I want you to have before the party really starts.”

You looked at him, searching his face for some idea of what it could be, your mind racing back to the first party you’d attended in the penthouse. But on his face you found something you didn’t expect, an uncertainty, a nervousness, as if he wasn’t sure how you were going to react to his surprise.

“What is it?” You asked.

“I think it’s easier just to show you,” he explained.

Billy didn’t wait for a response before slowly starting to lead you towards the library. Whatever it was, your friends seemed clued in; you caught a reassuring smile from Karen and a nod from Frank. Even Foggy managed to look silently supportive of whatever you were about to face.

As the library door opened, a figure stood up from the sofa.

You froze in the doorway, a thousand different emotions going to war inside you.

“Irene,” your sister's name fell from your lips as little more than a whisper, too quiet for any but Billy to hear it.

She offered an apologetic smile but seemed just as lost for words as you were. Billy’s hand gave yours a reassuring squeeze, letting you know that he was still there and that he’d support you if you needed him to.

Finally she took a step forward.

“You’re all grown up,” she remarked softly and all you could do was nod.

You hand gripped Billy’s even as you managed to take a step, still not sure how you wanted to feel or what you could possibly say to her after so many years apart.

“Billy found me,” she tried to explain, “he told me about what happened and how you ended up here.”

Your eyes flickered to Billy and he saw just how lost you were.

“Madani tracked her down,” he said softly. “I didn’t want to say anything to you until I knew that Irene wanted to see you. I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case she decided that she didn’t want to see you.”

It made sense and you certainly weren’t upset about it, but you still struggled to deal with the situation.

“You left me,” you finally said, voice breaking as you turned your attention back to Irene. “You said you’d come back for me.”

“I -” she started before hesitating, “- I tried. Just before your eighteenth birthday. I came to get you, but dad caught me. He told me that if I ever left with you, he’d make sure I was arrested for kidnapping and I -”

She fell silent again and you watched as she tried to blink back tears. In the silence, you found yourself leaning into Billy’s side.

“I’d just found out I was pregnant,” Irene continued. “I have children now. Three of them. I wanted to take you away with me, but I...”

You watched her wipe a tear from her cheek and your heart ached for her, finally starting to understand what had happened and why she hadn’t come back for you. She had to choose between you and her unborn child, and you couldn’t fault her for putting the baby first.

Nodding, you struggled to find the words. It was overwhelming and, while you didn’t blame Irene or Billy for the situation, you wished that you’d had some warning, some time to prepare all the things you wanted to say to her. Although you’d played this moment over and over in your head since the day she’d left home, you’d never really been able to settle on what you’d say or how you’d feel.

You gave Billy’s hand one last squeeze before letting it go and moving towards Irene.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he said softly, waiting just a moment to make sure you didn’t need him to stay, before leaving the library and closing the door behind him.

“He seems really nice,” Irene offered, smiling at you.

“He is,” you answered. “He saved my life.”

“Can you tell me about it?” She asked cautiously. “I want to hear about your life, about everything I’ve missed out on.”

You took a seat on the sofa and waited for her to join you, your mind still racing, wondering how you could ever explain the last eleven months of your life to someone who wasn’t there to see it.

“Well, it started when I saw a job advertisement online, just over a year ago...”

Irene sat, mostly quiet, listening as you explained how you needed to leave home in order to escape a forced marriage, just like she had. You told her about coming to New York and how you and Billy had slowly bonded over your shared love of literature, and how it had culminated in you falling in love. Then, with a little less certainty, you told her how you were turned and how your life had been going since that moment.

At some point she’d taken hold of your hand and held it between her own on her lap, her eyes never leaving your face, completely caught up in your story.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” she told you at the end.

“It’s okay... I wasn’t on my own.”

You could see that now; Billy, Karen, even Frank, and Matt and Foggy. You had people in your life, people who cared about you. People who looked out for you. (People who would kill for you.)

She looked at her watch and a sadness filled her expression.

“I should let you get back to your party. Tom - my husband - and the kids are at the hotel,” she explained and you visibly brightened.

“You’re staying in the city?”

“Yeah, for a few days. I’d like you to meet my family. If - I mean, if that’s something you’d want to do, I know -”

“You want them to meet me, even though I’m a vampire now?”

“Of course,” she answered without hesitation. “You’re my little sister and I want you back in my life.”

“I’d love to meet them,” you told her, finally finding the strength to throw your arms around your sister’s shoulders and hug her tight.

Her arms wrapped around you and, for a few bittersweet minutes, you stayed like that, both of you trying desperately not to cry. After a few false starts, she managed to pull away from you and you both got to your feet. You walked her out of the library and towards the elevator, making plans to meet the next night so you could finally meet your niece and nephews.

No sooner had the doors slid shut, Billy was at your side, his arms wrapping around you as you pressed your face against his chest. You clung to him, feeling overwhelmed again, feeling so full of emotion that you might burst. His hand stroked your hair and he kissed the top of your head, muttering how much he loved you, holding you until you were ready to enjoy your party.

And you did enjoy it.

The night was spent laughing with your friends with Billy always close to your side, barely able to keep his hands off you for more than a few short minutes at a time. You talked about work and made plans for the future, and Karen managed to ruin one of your birthday surprises by telling you about a two-week polar night cruise around Alaska that Billy and Frank had booked so you could have a couples vacation that was vampire friendly.

Billy was a little upset that his surprise was ruined prematurely, but he seemed to forget all about it when you pulled him close and kissed him deeply, something that you didn’t usually like to do in front of other people.

You drank, ate cake, and laughed the night away, until it was time for your friends to start leaving.

While Billy lingered by the elevator, talking to Frank, you waved farewell to Karen and decided to go get ready for bed, stopping off at your room to pick up a little present you’d been holding onto for Billy that you finally wanted to give him. Then, you made your way to his bedroom.

You quickly washed and changed into a sheer, powder blue negligee, and sat yourself on the edge of his bed next to his gift, waiting for him. It wasn’t long before he joined you, stepping into the room and pausing at the sight of you, making no attempt to hide the way his eyes took in every inch of your body.

Getting to your feet, you twirled, deciding to really give him an eyeful. Billy laughed and, before you knew it, you were laughing too.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what’s all this for?” He asked.

“I want to sleep in here with you, and -” you hesitated a moment as you turned and picked up the carefully wrapped gift and offered it to him, “- I wanted to give you a present.”

“You got me a present?” He looked down at the present in his hands, confused but still smiling. “But it’s your birthday.”

“I know, but it’s for both of us... kind of...” you said, a sudden feeling of nervousness causing a tremor in your voice.

Slowly, carefully, Billy tore open the wrapping and was left more confused than ever by what he found.

“It’s bed linen,” you explained.

“I can see that,” he answered, a hint of uncertain laughter in his tone as he looked at it.

You’d chosen a striking pattern of dark blues and petrol green, dark but still colourful, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn’t the bed linen itself that he didn’t understand, it was the gesture and what it meant.

You took a slow breath and started to explain; “it’s just... well, it’s really dark in here, and if I’m going to start staying in here, I thought we could make it a little brighter, and -”

“You want to stay in my room?” He asked, clearly trying to fight back a smile just in case he was jumping to the wrong conclusion. “You want to move into my room permanently?”

In the time it took you to nod, Billy had dropped the bed linen and cleared the distance between you, his hands framing your face and tilting it up so his lips could find yours. He kissed you with an eager desire that told you all you needed to know; he was happy, he wanted you to move into his room.

“I love you,” he muttered against your lips. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you answered back.

As he kissed you again, your fingers started to tug at his shirt, untucking it from his pants before clumsily pulling open the buttons, so you could touch his bare skin. While you dealt with his shirt, Billy quickly undid and lowered his pants, leading you backwards towards the bed as he stepped out of them.

He kissed you in a way that left you feeling bereft, like you didn’t think he’d ever be able to match the passion and love that he was showing you then, that no moment would ever feel as good as that one did. But it was a silly thought, one you knew was wrong. There was no limit to the depths of his love. And there was none to yours either, not when it came to Billy.

His shirt slipped from his shoulders, joining his pants on the ground just a split-second before you were lifted off your feet and deposited on the bed beneath him. Already, you could feel the hard press of his erection between your thighs, and it was enough to have you moaning against his lips.

For a few wonderful minutes, he was content to stay like that, his body pressed down on top of yours while you kissed. You loved moments like that, moments where there was no frantic rush, moments where it felt like you had all the time in the world to just love and enjoy each other.

Finally, he pulled away from your lips and lifted himself, letting his eyes drift down your body, taking in the sight of you all over again.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you softly, just enjoying the moment of stillness before letting his hand trail over the sheer fabric of your negligee. “And I love this.”

“I thought you might,” you smiled up at him, content to let him take his time.

His hand began to trace the curves of your body through the gossamer fabric, making a point of running his fingers over the ticklish spot on your side that he’d discovered that first night you’d spent together in front of the TV. A smile spread across his lips as you squirmed and giggled beneath him.

“I love you,” he said again.

There was something so serious in his voice, something that had you reaching up to cup his cheek, wanting to settle any terrible thoughts or doubts that might be in his head.

“I know you do, Billy,” you reassured him softly. “And I love you. With all my heart.”

His smile grew wider and whatever had taken hold of him seemed to let go. And, finally, he started to move down your body.

Soft hands slipped up your thighs, fingers hooking the little panties that you wore beneath the negligee and quickly relieving you of them. And, still, despite all the months that you’d spent with him, he always managed to look at you like it was his first time really seeing you. Once your panties were gone, he slowly moved down the bed, settling himself between your thighs, slowly trailing kisses from your knee up your leg.

Even though you were more than used to his lips between your thighs and the way his tongue could make you feel, you still gasped at the first touch, each and every time. In your time together, he’d learned every inch of you and how to make your body shake with pleasure.

Your fingers slipped into his hair and tugged lightly as his tongue slid between your folds. He groaned against you, tasting your arousal before focusing his attention on your clit, circling the throbbing bundle. Unrestrained moans started to fall from your lips and, soon enough, you felt his fingers breach your walls, slowly thrusting into the heat of your body while he undid you with his tongue.

His name fell from your lips over and over as you felt yourself climb higher and higher, your fingers curling tighter in his hair.

You looked down at him, waiting for his permission as pleasure coiled tight inside you and, finally, he gave you the slightest of nods. It was all you needed. You came hard as his fingers and tongue continued to work in concert with each other, trying to prolong your ecstasy until it was too much to bear and your thighs started to tremble violently.

Finally he pulled back, wiping his lips and watching you as your head fell back on the pillow.

“Mmmm,” you hummed, breathless but smiling. “Best birthday present ever.”

“Oh, hummingbird, I’m just getting started,” he muttered.

You didn’t move until prompted, sitting up for him so he could finally remove your negligee, then dropping back to the pillow while he got rid of his boxers. And you watched him, you watched every little move that he made, taking in the sight of him just as he had with you only ten minutes before.

It brought a smile to your face to think how obsessed you still were with each other.

Soon, he was positioned between your thighs again, teasing you, running the leaking tip of his cock between your folds, trailing it up and down from your entrance to your clit until you were needily squirming beneath him.

“Billy, please...”

“What do you need, hummingbird?” He asked, as if he didn’t already know.

“You, Billy,” you whined. “I need you.”

And that was all he needed to hear.

Your head fell back and you let out a long moan as his cock notched into you and started to fill you. His pace was torturously slow and he watched every little flicker of pleasure that crossed your features. You loved these moments when he’d take his time, when he’d make love to you and show you how much you meant to him.

Linking your hands behind his neck, you pulled him down and into an eager kiss. More little moans slipped from your lips and into his as he started to move in slow, deep thrusts that sent bolts of pleasure up and down your spine. You back arched, heels digging into the mattress, lifting your hips to meet his every movement.

When the kiss broke, your lungs felt like they were burning. But there was no time to think about that, no time to think about anything but the way Billy was making you feel. His lips moved to your neck, kissing and sucking at your skin, while one of his hands played with your breast. He was everywhere and everything to you, and when you were together like this, you felt like two pieces of a whole.

He made you feel like the characters from all the books you’d read; you felt like Jane Eyre finally happy and free with her Mr Rochester (just minus the burnt down home).

He made you happier than you’d ever dared to believe you could be.

“Billy,” you moaned softly into his ear with reverence.

“Come for me, little hummingbird,” he muttered in response.

On command, you fell apart for him, clinging to him as your body shivered and shook with pleasure.

“Billy, I love you,” you managed between your moans.

Billy gasped, suddenly overcome by his own orgasm. The movements of his hips turned sloppy as you felt him empty himself inside you, trembling almost as much as you were.

“I love you,” you said again, finding his lips and kissing him, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight.

When he stilled, he lingered, not wanting to pull out or pull away from you but, eventually, he rolled away, ending up on his back beside you. You both basked in the afterglow as you slowly came down from your highs.

Turning on your side, you lifted yourself so your face was above his. His eyes closed and he let out a contented sigh as your fingers ran through his hair, lightly scratching your nails against his scalp just the way he liked. Then you leaned, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, then one of each of his closed eyes and then, finally, his lips.

“Thank you,” you whispered softly.

“What for?” He dared to ask.

“For loving me for who I am,” you tried to explain, “and for letting me have a life of my own.”

“I should be thanking you for exactly the same thing,” he told you, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you towards him, holding you against his chest.

Neither of you said another word that night.

You didn’t need to.

You had each other, and that was all you needed.

End Note : It's finally over 😭😭😭 Thank you so much for all the lovely comments and messages over the last week, it really means a lot that so many people have enjoyed this story. I hope the epilogue gives an added bit of closure on a couple of issues (I know some people were interested in the sister) though I have also left some things open because I would love to come back to this version of Billy some time in the future. (Honestly, I need a little break from gothic stuff because I made the mistake of rereading Flowers in the Attic the other day and it left me emotionally broken 😅) There won't be any Billy fics from me next week, which feels so weird to me, but I realised that I've posted at least once a week, every week for the last 42 weeks so I think I'm due a week off. At the moment, I think I'll be starting the stalker!Billy fic on the 6th of September but, in the mean time I might also work on my omegaverse!Bucky fic. In the meantime, my ask box is always open if you have thoughts/feelings/questions/headcanons about anything I've written.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading and following week after week, and thank you so much to those of you who have liked/commented/reblogged! Hope you all have a great weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock

@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad

@vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17

@sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim

@countryday @weepingwitchofthewest @broadwaybabe18 @bunnygirlwriter876 @oliviaewl

@rosey1981 @benbarnesprettygurl @rachlovesactors @robertthehoover @ladyblacky

@goldenbeskar @mydarlingnana @strwbrrynd @cheshirecat484 @jvanilly

@ashy-kit @jazzclubprincess @arwensloanebarnes

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #(ob)ts ff #billy russo imagine

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bonny-kookoo · 11 months ago

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I need sweet tooth!Yoongi having a talk with jimin in front of MC where MC‘s in awe of how protective Yoongi gets of her. Pretty pretty please!

"What do you mean?" You hear Jimin speak in the kitchen.

The door to your room is slightly ajar, giving you the ability to listen in on what's being said downstairs, and much to your surprise, Yoongi seems rather.. intense in his tone of voice.

"I love you, I really do, and I do want to make this work-" He says, before there's a pause. "But fuck. Giving her away? Just because she's got some trouble adjusting to an honestly huge change?" He accuses, before Jimin's voice is heard again.

"But I'm not-" He sighs, pausing. "Yoongi, I wasn't going to give her away-" He starts, but the older male is not pacified with this.

"But what?" He asks. "You told me you love her, that you can't even imagine life without her, and yet you take it into consideration- and don't tell me you didn't." He says, and there's a pause.

You feel bad. You don't want them to fight just because of you.

"I didn't." Jimin says in a serious tone. "But I did think about.. Yoongi, what if she really does need therapy? I only want what's best for her." He almost whines, and there's some silence before Yoongi is heard again.

"Do you want that?" He asks, before he speaks once more. "Or do you just want an easy solution?"

You're caught off guard by Yoongi's confrontational attitude- not sure why he seems so passionate about this when all you did until now was piss him off and make his life chaotic as hell. Why does he have so much sympathy for you now?

"Yes she's a handful, yes she's stressing me out, and yes we don't see eye to eye most of the time but that's the thing-" The older guy reasons, "-everything changed for her. It's normal that she's going to hate it at first."

"Yoongi.." Jimin speaks, but he's not done yet.

"She's warmed up to Jungkook. She's become more independent, she's starting to actually try and put effort into this- just give her some fucking time." Yoongi presses on. "I know you don't like the fact that she's not all over you anymore, but you can't have it all, Jimin."

"I'm not.. but..-" The younger adult attempts, but fails at properly making his thoughts known.

"Everyone has to adjust. You too." Yoongi says. "And you can stop listening in on conversations." He suddenly addresses you, who's been slowly creeping down the stairs and closer to the kitchen, poking your head around the doorway. But the second you're called out, you're running back into your room again-

realizing only after your nap that the cat plushy you've been holding throughout your sleep looks a lot like Yoongi.

#bts imagine #bts fic #bts fanfic #hybrid imagine #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #yoongi imagines #yoongi x reader #jimin imagine #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader

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fuckyeahisawthat · 9 months ago

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Something I find interesting when viewing the two recent Dune movies as a whole is that initially, Paul is more than willing to use the prophecy and his visions for his own gain to convince Liet to help them, while Jessica whispers "careful!" at his side, and she later recommends they leave the planet entirely. But Paul decides they'll stay with the Fremen. Even at the beginning of Part 2, Paul is like "fuck yeah let's wage war on the Harkonnen" and Jessica is again counseling caution: "your father didn't believe in revenge." She goes through the Water of Life ceremony not because she wants to help Paul fulfill the prophecy but because she's forced to: do this or die. And even then, the old Reverend Mother had to use the Voice on her to get Jessica to drink.

That all changes when Jessica nearly dies during the ceremony. After that, Paul becomes more wary of embracing the prophecy, and she just throws herself into it. Paul nearly loses his mother (and his unborn sister) to a painful, agonizing poison - mere hours/days after losing his father and all their friends/allies to the Harkonnen slaughter - and decides it's not worth it. Meanwhile, Jessica gets a direct download of memories of millennia of oppression and goes "yeah let's burn everything to the ground."

It's an interesting, quick reversal at the beginning of the second movie, and it's great.

Ooh thank you for this great ask. I can always count on you for smart and thoughtful Jessica takes!

You make a really good observation about their reversal of positions--I had been struggling to figure out how Paul's line about "I must sway the non-believers" fit into his overall arc, but you are absolutely right that this feels like a continuation of how he talks to Liet. We're seeing the first stirrings of that little "maybe I am special" thought that later takes center stage.

For most of Part Two, Paul has several reliable counterweights pulling against that streak of arrogance and high-handedness that he's had from the beginning. Jessica almost dies drinking the Water of Life, which, like you point out, has got to make him think twice about encouraging people to believe in the prophecy. Then, he spends most of the movie surrounded by Chani and her friends and comrades, who seem the most skeptical of the prophecy and also aren't going to give his ego the time of day. And at the same time, he has an opportunity to pour his desire for revenge into collective political action that seems to be making a difference.

It's only when those countervailing forces start collapsing (the people who had started out as his equals are now becoming his followers; the Harkonnens attack Sietch Tabr and other civilian population centers, proving they are far from militarily defeated; Gurney shows up and immediately offers what seems like an easy solution to their problems that only Paul can access) that the little maybe I am special voice starts winning again.

As for Jessica, her journey doesn't get as much focus in the movie but it's also fascinating. She's a great character because she is so fucking smart at navigating power structures from what seems like an unenviable position. Did she have any choice about being sent to Caladan to become Leto's concubine? I am guessing she did not. But she sure figured out how to work that situation to her advantage. It happened that along the way she and Leto came to genuinely love and respect each other. But I'm sure she would still have figured out an angle even if that had not been the case.

In Part Two she starts out in a frankly quite terrifying position: she can undergo this unknown, dangerous ritual or die, and also possibly put Paul's safety at risk by raising doubt about whether he is the Lisan al-Gaib. But after she survives the Water of Life, she is launched into a powerful position in Fremen society and pretty quickly realizes she can use that to both protect Paul and get her revenge on the people who tried to kill her whole family. And unlike Paul, she is much more cognizant of the intergalactic power structures at work and aware that the Harkonnens themselves were a pawn in all this, so her target is the Bene Gesserit and the emperor.

I would have loved more time to explore Jessica's relationship to Fremen society and her POV in general. Because in some ways she becomes as Fremen as it's possible for her to be--she has access to thousands of years of memories of Fremen history and culture and politics; she becomes instantly fluent in the language and she is immersed in Fremen daily life in the sietch. (If there's one single thing I wanted more of, it was daily life in the sietch.) But she's still the same person she was, so she hasn't lost that ability to be ruthless and calculating and see people as forces to be manipulated. In Part One, her love for Paul and Leto provided an interesting counterweight to this that allowed us to see some moments of vulnerability from her (ie. she knows Paul has to undergo the Gom Jabbar test but she's terrified for him while it's happening). In Part Two she is so isolated for most of the movie (away from Paul; surrounded by followers who were never friends; I think we can all agree that talking to your unborn fetus doesn't really count) that we don't get a lot of these more unguarded moments from her. (I would have loved some Jessica/Stilgar action and it seems like the potential was very much set up for that, but I understand why they didn't have time.)

But in general I thought they did a great job of setting up this contradictory tension between Jessica and Paul, where they both want so desperately to protect each other and they both want revenge, but the way they each go about it ends up putting them in direct conflict with each other.

#dune #dune part two #lady jessica #paul atreides #asks answered

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ghostwise · 1 month ago

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oooh 51 for the touch prompts :)c

51. caressing the other’s cheek, 1k tags: rook x harding, male laidir, act 2 spoilers

Acute lyrium toxicity, reads the header across Emmrich’s handwritten notes. It is not something he is often called upon to treat, so he’s spent the past couple of evenings brushing up on the subject.

He’s read about lyrium’s use in dwarven runecraft, its application in the Circle of Magi as well as the Templar order, and, most intriguing to him, its susceptibility to Blight. He has even reviewed first-hand reports of red lyrium from the Inquisition, courtesy of their very own Inquisition scout, whose interest in the subject has become an all-consuming drive as of late. And for good reason, following her encounter with the Titan’s shadow.

Emmrich has read enough to feel reassured. By all accounts, Rook received a lyrium dosage several times greater than that given to a mage during their Harrowing, and yet, he is still breathing. Whatever Harding did to him down there worked. Usually non-lethal, once the substance is cleared from the blood, so say the texts.

But for Lace Harding, such words hold little weight. She won’t rest until she sees Rook open his eyes.

So Emmrich waits with her. He brings her another cup of tea and Manfred hovers close by, sugar tongs in hand.

“Thank you,” Harding whispers. She smiles weakly as Manfred sweetens her tea. One cube, two cubes, three. Four.

“That’s quite enough, Manfred,” Emmrich murmurs.

“It’s alright. I need all the sweetness I can get,” Harding says, and, for Manfred’s sake, sips at the sugary tea.

The skeleton utters a pleased, gurgling hiss before returning to Laidir’s side, sitting opposite Harding.

“You know, Harding,” Emmrich says carefully, “You should rest. His condition is stable. And I dare say, Manfred has been as constant a caregiver as you and I have.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Harding says evenly. “I’m fine.”

“Lace-” Emmrich sighs.

“Really, Emmrich.” She looks up at him, a puffy and dark quality to the skin under her eyes. “I’m fine. You forget, I’ve spent the last decade… dealing with crisis. Finding solutions.” She shifts and sets her teacup upon the bedside table. “With the Inquisition, I set up new outposts and explored places I’d never dreamed of seeing. Since then, I’ve traveled everywhere—tracking Solas, fighting Venatori, slavers, mercenaries—so, sitting here beside him? It’s easy, Emmrich. Too easy, maybe. This isn’t a problem I can aim an arrow at. It’s…”

Emmrich watches her lapse into silence. She’d done a good job putting things into words, up until she hit a feeling she couldn’t name. He’s a romantic himself; he’s well aware of the tangled paths hearts can take.

“When you first became aware of this… complication, between your emotions and your new-found abilities,” he says slowly, “You mentioned feeling somewhat responsible. And I told you-”

“To be patient,” Harding completes.

On the bed, Lirio lets out a raspy breath. She looks at him for a moment, waiting for his breathing to relax again, before continuing.

“I appreciated that, you know. It was good advice. Everyone else kept saying, don’t worry. But why wouldn’t I worry? I had no clue what was happening to me, and I worse, I was hurting someone I cared about. Or they’d say, it’s not your fault. But it wasn’t about it being my fault, it was about…”

Another pause. Emmrich let his mind wander for a moment, down a hypothetical path: if he had changed, unexpectedly, completely, in such a way that he inadvertently hurt those dearest to him, what would he think?

“It was about understanding yourself,” he guesses. “Making peace with the power.”

“Yeah,” Lace nods. “Yeah, I never felt it was my fault. But I knew it was my responsibility to figure it out. Maybe I never would. And would he be okay with that? Would I?” She glances away, recalling the conversation. “He said he would. I’m inclined to believe him.”

“And now?” Emmrich prompts.

“Now…” Lace shakes her head at the wonder that is her life. “I didn’t ask for this gift, but I have it anyway. The pain the Titans experienced eons upon eons ago… to me, it feels like it happened just yesterday. That’s not my fault. That’s not anyone’s fault. I don’t think it’s something the Titan did to me purposefully, anyway.”

She hesitates, gathering her next words. She still finds it challenging to explain some pieces of what she experienced, but she tries anyway, knowing Emmrich will try to understand.

“Their sense of time is different… a continent could take a lifetime to form, mountains and forests blinking in and out of view. They don’t exist, quick and isolated from others, like we do. And I’m not sure if Titans feel love like we feel love. But they feel connection, through the lyrium. And without connection, there’s just… nothing. The most horrible nothing. A complete inversion of the connection they need to survive.”

“Isatunoll,” Emmrich says with a smile.

“Isatunoll,” Harding echoes softly. “I’m not a Titan. I have to feel like a person feels. Lirio helped me see that.”

“Ah, yes. By exposing himself to the Titan’s lyrium fully!”

Harding glances up at him. Suddenly, she laughs; the clearest sound of laughter he’s heard from her in days.

“You are looking at me with the biggest, cheesiest smile, Emmrich,” she says. “You’re all… mushy and sappy…”

“It’s terribly romantic, Harding,” Emmrich sighs. “I’m happy for you. That’s all.”

“Um. Thank you.” She giggles. “Really, thank you. For all your help. I’m happy too. Or, I will be. Just as soon as I can speak to him. As soon as I know I can…”

Across the bed, Manfred clatters his ribs. A shiver of bones lends way to a happy hiss. Emmrich and Lace look up, conversation forgotten, as Lirio stirs; all stiff muscles and post-lyrium aches.

Lirio cracks open his eyes and blinks as the world around him comes into focus, slowly. All he can see is a bloom of red, the exact shade of which immediately thrills him. “Lace,” he murmurs, though he can’t quite see her yet.

“Lirio,” she breathes. “I’m here.”

She reaches a trembling hand to cup his cheek. She watches for that characteristic blue glow, but it doesn’t come. Then Rook reaches up to cover her hand with his own, leaning into the touch as naturally as rain falls on the windward side of a mountain.

“I’ll fetch more tea,” Emmrich says hurriedly. He pulls Manfred along, away from the two.

As he goes, he thinks to himself again, isatunoll. And wonders whether mountains and people have more in common than Harding had guessed.

#thank youuu <3 this is quite rambly but i wanted to fluff up that act 2 scene bc it wrapped up far too quickly for my liking #rinnywrites #dragon age #datv #lace harding #rook x harding #laidir #oc: lirio laidir

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nardo-headcanons · 11 months ago

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About Shisui Uchiha

just some shower thoughts i had about him. this is very headcanon heavy and rather vague at times.

tw for talks about suicide, manipulation, trauma, abuse, etc

tagging: @uchihaharlot @pxssy-stuntin-for-itxchi @lalalover33-blog @burning-bubble @naruto-scribblings-j

Unlike Itachi, who was born during the last year of the great Shinobi war, it is safe to say that Shisui was born while it was still going on. So naturally, he was exposed to the worst side humanity had to offer, most likely traumatizing him in the process.

His mother is never mentioned, so I assume she must have died during his birth or in his early childhood. His father, most likely ravaged by illness before he even entered the battlefield, lost his left leg, leaving him with phantom pains and high medical bills. As a born shinobi, Shisui’s father lacked the funds and education to pursue any other path of career, leaving his child as the only breadwinner of his family. Shisui probably had to spend his entire childhood and youth slaving away just to keep his father and himself afloat. Additionally, he took care of a terminally i’ll man who didn’t even remember his son’s name. Of course, this would lead to Shisui being very perceptive of the psychology of the ones around him, how else could he search for a sign of his father’s state health changing?

Shisui often spent time wondering what it’s like to have a family, a family in which he is allowed to be what he is: a child. Someone who is cared for, someone who is looked after. Despite being an Uchiha, his relation to Kagami Uchiha - the Uchiha allied with Tobirama, the very person planting the seed for all the discrimination the Uchiha would face, up to a point of their genocide, would probably lead him to feel ostracized within his own clan. And like everyone of us, he is trying to find the balance between individuality and belonging - the latter being the one he lacked. His abilities as an Uchiha become a defining factor of identity for him, leading to him being willing to let a comrade via withholding aid - just on the basis of that comrade potentially being stronger than him. Once his comrade dies, the young Uchiha is ravaged by feelings of guilt, by the awareness that the blood of his friend is on his hand.

But nevertheless, he is blessed with a new Uchiha ability - the mangekyou sharingan. His entire life he had to enter a role he didn’t want to be in, robbing him of memories he could have had. So what better mangekyou ability to have than the one that alters memories, and, in extension, alters your role in the world?

Shisui’s resentment against his Uchiha identity starts bubbling up inside him again, and being a shinobi who frequents B- or even A-Rank missions as a literal teenager (how else would you pay for your father’s medical debt as a shinobi, eh?) he was closer to the village from the start. Hailed as the strong and talented Uchiha boy, taking on missions to serve his village, behind the facade a broken kid forced to grow up way too quickly. His first serious doubts begin when he is forced to kill Mukai Kohinata, a direct reflection of Shisui, just the other way around: a father wanting nothing but funds to care for his dying child.

Things don’t get better when the tension between the village and the Uchiha rise. His own brethren or the collective - who will you support? Getting into Shisui’s mind and twisting his perception of what’s right is an easy game for Danzo, almost too easy. A civil war breaking out in Konoha would be a repetition of his initial trauma - the one thing Shisui wants to prevent the most. Shisui starts feeling conflicted, until he finally stumbles upon THE miracle solution: forcefully keeping up the status quo by manipulating the leader of the revolution - an unpleasant reality, but better than the Uchiha clan’s extermination or a civil war breaking out, right? To Shisui, atleast. And honestly, who could blame him? As a ninja who graduated young, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he lacks the methodical and critical thinking outside of the parameters of violence and manipulation he is used to from Danzo and the shinobi world.

And then it happens. He agrees to suppress the revolution of his own ethnic group just for the sake of keeping up a false sense of peace, and suddenly, his co conspirators, the man that is supposed to be guarding him, leading him, suddenly abandons him and steals his eye? Shisui’s entire identity as the Uchiha boy from Konoha collapses and he doesn’t know what to think or believe anymore. In his last moments, he becomes aware of the utter pointlessness of the killing and the brutality of the shinobi system, the sheer feeling of powerless overwhelming him. At this point, death seems like a sweeter option than continuing to live powerlessly in such a system.

Shisui is a skilled ninja, but not always in contact with his emotions. Therapy is a rarity in the leaf, with even the counselors themselves not being able to give advise outside of the parameters of what’s “acceptable” in the hidden leaf.

So, what better way to hide your agony than behind a -albeit manufactured- goofy smile?

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto headcanons #naruto scenarios #naruto imagines #naruto fanfiction #shisui #shisui headcanons #shisui uchiha #anti shinobi system #anti hiruzen #anti danzo #anti tobirama #anti will of fire #anti konoha #naruto meta

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blughxreader · 1 year ago

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Damn, the "re-connection session" one-shot was an extremely heavy read in a way I never expected. I’m fully aware that your requests are closed but just wanted to ask; how would Dick and Jason deal with a traumatised omega reader? Someone who gave in to the hormones but once the effect blew over the weight of what happened set in and hit them like a truck, as they re-lived metres of being undressed and touched without their consent, which mimicked a borderline assault?

I'm blown away by the response for this fic omg <3 Thank u to everyone who left comments like this lol. "HORRID. SICK TO MY STOMACH. WILL TATTOO ON MY BODY." yall are the best

As for your questions...

We're all aware of normal trauma responses (mental breakdowns, you could throw up at the smell of Alfred's soup, blocking the memory entirely, throwing yourself into distractions), but ABO has a primal element...

Y'know how women who give birth release this brain chemical that makes them love their baby so it overrides the terror of pregnancy??

Yeah. Maybe finally joining the pack physically/emotionally releases that same chemical.

You're not a slave to your body, but it definitely takes the edge off of a horrific incident. I think you'd 1000% remember it forever and have some level of bitterness and ick about it, but sometimes it's easier to accept things you can't change.

From everyone's perspective, why should you harbor so much hatred when an easy life of love and safety is at your fingertips if you'd just forget a little incident?

It's up to the you tho.

Dick fully stands by his decision unless you try to like, kill yourself. He's used to making hard decisions, and while he'd upset at the circumstances, he feels it was the last solution. Everything else failed, so how we do things the uncomfortable way.

Jason will always feel shitty about it. He's a romantic, and the fact that your entrance into the pack was by force will forever sit heavy on him. If Dick's confidence had faltered even a little during that one-shot, then Jason would have called it off immediately.

Life would carry on normally, save for everyone watching you for any behavioral changes. Dick and Jason would accept your furious anger / sadness with understanding remorse, then would comfort you in their own ways.

Movie night? Your favorite food? Want to sit with Alfred and I in the library? Hey, maybe we can convince Bruce to let us all go to his beach house for a weekend?

And if you stop reacting all together, then they'd take the indication to cozy on up to you again. Fight back and show some emotion, orrrr sit with one of their arm's over your shoulder and let the hormones do their job.

You'll run out of fight eventually, then Bruce will start working on your trauma. At that point, the pack's already got a hold on you mentally so you begrudge them some leeway.

Small privileges here and there (sitting with your thighs touching, holding someone's hand, sleeping in the same bed), until it becomes a slippery addiction.

#yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere #yandere x reader #yandere dc #yandere abo #abo yandere #batfam abo

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nesaluvstherecoms · 4 months ago

Text

𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱.

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴄᴏʟᴏɴᴇʟ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴍ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Mentions of male and female Na’vi reproductive cycles, combat training, light injuries, semi-animalistic instincts, pheromone induced arousal, male masturbation, perv Miles?, erotic fantasies (includes: sexual intercourse, breeding, dirty talk), masturbation with inanimate objects, light angst.

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ʟɪɴᴋ

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕: 𝐆𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐀𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭

“I’m sorry, what the fuck did you just say to me?” Y/N presses, eyebrows raised at the female scientists as they stand in front of the check up bed in the medical wing, where the Recom is currently sat on. The women squeeze their eyes shut for a moment at the General’s reaction, embarrassment creeping up their necks.

“Ma’am please, let’s keep this professional-“

“Professional? You lost that the second you compared me to a horny animal.” Y/N replies, arms now crossed under her bust.

“That’s not what we said ma’am, please listen to us.” The same woman continues, a faint, frustrated blush on her face as she tries to make the Recom in front of her understand.

“As you and the rest of the Recombinants continue to develop, your bodies are fully waking up. It’s a natural part of the Na’vi reproductive cycle, to go into your heat-

“Oh my god, there you go again with that word. I am NOT going to go into heat. I’m not a fucking animal!”

The scientist woman clenches her jaw, taking a deep breath to ground herself while the other two women, her assistants, exchange worried glances behind her.

It’s been several months, getting closer to a year since the Recoms first boarded on Pandora. The science and health department has been monitoring their wellbeing for quite a long time. Through the most recent blood analyses, slight changes in their behavior, and changes in the reactions of their bodies like sweating more, enhanced senses etc., it is clear to the scientists that they can not avoid what they have been avoiding for this long. The hormone blockers that they doused them with in their amnio tanks, when they were still developing, are wearing off. The Recombinants are getting closer and closer to their reproductive cycles. However, because they were filled with hormone blockers since before coming to life, the department is concerned about the intensity of these cycles. They have not come up with a solution yet, however the Recoms have recently been put under intense supervision. After weeks of analysis and different check ups, the scientists have decided that it’s time to inform them of their own situation.

That’s why they are being called into the medical examination rooms one by one, with male scientists explaining it for the male Recoms and female scientists for the female Recoms. It was supposed to be an easy task, however it turned out differently than what they had expected. As Y/N sits there on the examination bed, arms crossed under her chest and neck deep in denial, the woman in front of her is getting frustrated. If Y/N doesn’t understand what’s happening to her body, then things will get complicated for everyone.

“General L/N, please, for the love of God listen to me.” She speaks up calmly after moments of deep breaths, trying not to run out of patience. Y/N rolls her golden eyes, uncrossing her arms to use them to lean back, long tail flicking next to her nonchalantly.

“We are not saying that you will lose control and turn into an animal in heat. You are misunderstanding. Just like when you were a human, as a Recombinant you also have a reproductive cycle. As I explained it to you before; you were fed certain hormone blockers in your amnio tank that prevented your reproductive cycle from functioning normally. But now these hormone blockers are wearing off, and your body is trying to adapt. The problem is that it’s going from one extreme to another, firstly having no hormones to work with, and now starting to get bombarded with those of a nearly twenty one year old Na’vi, which are very strong hormones. We are concerned that when your cycle gets to ovulation week, your behavior and the reactions of your body will change significantly. Again, not saying that you will lose your mind, don’t get me wrong, just saying that you will undergo changes that are too intense even for yourself. That’s what we mean by heat. It’s not literally heat like an animal’s, it’s just the ovulation part of your cycle, stronger than a human’s but weaker than an animal’s.”

Y/N sits there, listening to this woman with displeasure plastered all over her pretty face. She doesn’t like this conversation. Not one bit. She’s being talked to like a child who’s going through puberty.

“With that being said, what we want from you is to monitor the changes of your own body and behavior because we cannot be there with you 24/7. You should keep a note in mind and tell them to us in your next check up. Alongside that, we would like you to take these pills.” The woman continues, turning her medical swivel stool around and sliding away to grab a prescription bottle from the counter behind her, that’s filled with medical and lab equipment. Y/N raises a brow as she slides the stool back in front of the Recom, bringing the prescription bottle up to her.

“What are they?” She asks, eyeing the orange color of the object.

“They are light hormone blockers. We do not want you and the rest of the Recombinants to experience a very intense heat for your first time. Therefore we are prescribing you these blockers to water down the intensity of your ovulation. And we’re prescribing your male Recombinants blockers to reduce their testosterone levels. This goes for all of you.” The doctor in front of her explains. Y/N watches the bottle for a few seconds, not moving even though the woman is waiting for her to grab it from her hand.

“No, thanks.”

The three scientists in white lab coats turn to look at her with wide eyes, confused. Y/N puts on an unamused expression before continuing.

“I don’t need your hormone blockers. I will not fuck with the balance of my own body by taking them. You all fucked us up by putting these hormone blockers in our amnio tanks in the first place, and now even though you’re “concerned” for the misbalance of our reproductive cycles, you tell us to take them again? What kind of logic is that?” She replies, her significantly larger body already moving to stand up. The woman’s eyes in front of her widen further, panic setting in.

“Please, General L/N, you don’t understand!” She starts saying, but Y/N is already on her feet as her combat boots start heading for the door. Her ears remain folded back in annoyance, long tail flicking behind her to mirror the irritation.

“Without a mate, the intensity of your ovulation will harm you-“

“I’m done with this conversation. I’ll come to your next checkups and I’ll take a note of the changes in me, but I’m not taking those pills.”

And with that, the door slides closed in the doctor’s face behind her, and the Recom is gone. The scientist stands there, prescription bottle in hand, as she stares dumbfounded at the dull surface of the metal and lets out a deep sigh, squeezing her eyes shut. One of her assistants stands up from the medical swivel chair she was sat in, and walks up to her, turning to look at the side of her head.

“Do you want me to try explaining it to her again?”

The woman shakes her head, opening her eyes to turn around, and putting the orange prescription bottle back on the counter where it was before.

“No, it’s fine. She’ll be back for them, eventually.”

“Move yer fucking arse, if we were in combat I would’ve sent you back to God seven times already!”

Miles’ breathing is heavy, saffron eyes focused on the male Recom in front of him as he clutches a dull combat knife. Riley returns the stare, glaring hard enough to burn a hole through wood, as both men circle each other, steps slow and calculated while their tails swish behind them slowly. Miles’ body is covered in a thick layer of sweat, dripping down his partially healed face and falling on the training room floor below. It slides down his bare chest in droplets, between his pecs and down his firm abs. His short black hair sticks to his drenched forehead, poking the skin uncomfortably. A week has passed. A week since that cursed meeting occurred. And here he is, panting and struggling for his life against someone who’s lower in rank than him. This is so fucking embarrassing.

Riley strikes forward, swiftly handling the combat knife to slice Miles’ right ribs, but the other Recom quickly dodges, missing the weapon by a hair strand. He clutches his own knife, preparing to counterattack, and just as he’s about to, Riley’s combat boot collides harshly against the side of his right knee, and Miles soon finds himself on the floor, staring up at the other man in shock.

“Pay attention to your fucking legs! They’re the foundation of your body! Ground them firmly on the floor so you don’t end up arse first on the ground with one bloody kick!”

Miles clenches his jaw, staring up at the Lieutenant. God, he’s fucking unbearable.

Riley scoffs, his long tail flicking behind him in annoyance. He walks a few steps, circling Miles’ form on the floor, his piercing amber eyes narrowing down at him. Miles follows him with his own narrowed pupils, staring up at the Lieutenant’s large form. Even for a Recom, Riley is large. His body looms over the humans, Avatars and some of the other Recombinants. His muscles are hard, firm and bulky, arms covered in sleeve tattoos with massive biceps and large pecs that even Lyle expresses jealousy over sometimes. And not only are his muscles scary to look at, but they’re much harder to fight against. Throughout this entire week’s training, Miles has been able to land three hits total, and Riley is getting impatient. As Miles has come to learn, Jones is very aggressive in his training. Not only physically but verbally as well. He yells and cusses like Miles’ old drill instructors when his predecessor was just a young recruit. And besides tearing him down with his use of profanity (in his British accent which in Miles’ opinion is even worse), he shows no mercy in his attacks as well. Since Miles is a Colonel, Jones did not see the need to hold back on him like he does with the recruits. That’s what happened the first three days anyway. After almost stabbing Quaritch over fifty times those three days, he realized that he does indeed need to take it down a notch, at least until the Colonel becomes better in combat. They switched the real combat knives for training ones, and put on boxing hand wraps. But yet, he’s still brutal, using nearly all of the force in his powerful muscles to hit him, while not wasting a single opportunity to let Quaritch know how useless he is, as he batters and bruises him.

But for Miles, even though Jones’ behavior pisses him off immensely, his training is actually of really high quality. You can tell by his sharp reflexes and the sheer control he has on his body alone, how much expertise and experience he has in combat. His moves are immensely fast, calculated and precise, always hitting their target effectively and dealing great damage in the process. If Miles would’ve fought Sully with this amount of skill, he would’ve killed him easily no doubt. Guess this is the level of an elite special operator.

However, even though Miles can get over Riley’s yelling and belittling in favor of getting quality training, there’s one thing he cannot get over no matter how hard he tries. And that’s the scent that seeps from the other Recom’s striped blue skin. His scent is masculine, a sweet, soft musk with pheromones that attract a lot of attention. To humans and to some of the female Avatars & Recoms, Riley actually smells very enticing. But to the rest of the male Na’vi on base; whether that be Avatar or Recombinant, this scent is not as pleasant. Matter of fact, the more Miles remains in Riley’s presence, the worse the scent gets. Not that it smells bad, but the way it fills his nasal cavity, blocking his airflow, is aggravating him more and more.

Riley’s fragrance is thick in Miles’ feline nose. It’s filled with masculine pheromones that irritate the shit out of him, and he wants it gone. And by the way that Riley is staring back at him, jaw clenched and breaths short, it seems like Miles’ own scent has the same effect on the Recom Lieutenant. Matter of fact a few minutes ago he had walked away mid fight to open the windows of the training room fully, nearly tearing them off their hinges as he let the Pandoran air flow inside, the ventilation not having been enough. Miles was in fact very grateful for that, as it faded greatly the scent in the air. But now as he stands up from the floor and starts circling with Riley again, a few feet away from each other while clutching the dull combat knives, his scent fills his nose yet another time.

Riley is in no better shape. Miles’ own scent is so overpowering, musky, with strong pheromones that reek of testosterone. Not only is he annoyed with the Colonel’s skills in combat, but he has to deal with his fucking smell too. And the worst part is, he shares the living quarters with seven other pheromone-filled male Recombinants, who also reek of testosterone and musk. Just the thought of going home after this training session and being hit with seven times the male essence that he’s inhaling now, makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. Although… Scott’s scent isn’t actually that bad-

Miles has lunged forward, quickly swinging his arm backwards into a sharp motion that for sure will let him drag the blade into a thin line across Riley’s face. But Y/N’s Second Lieutenant remains quicker. He immediately steps back, leaning backwards to dodge it effectively, with his fists balled up. As soon as Miles’ arm goes into motion, Riley’s sharp eyes catch sight of his now vulnerable stomach. Powering the muscles of his strong tattooed arm, he sends a short, quick and sharp punch on it, that knocks the air out of Quaritch’s lungs immediately. The other Recom releases a choked gasp, the momentum of the swing he had on his arm breaking. Riley then places the same hand he used to hit him with on the middle of his chest, pushing him away firmly and Miles stumbles back several steps until he catches his balance again. There’s a sharp pain in the very back, bottom of his throat, his gag reflex having been triggered with Jones’ punch to his stomach.

“You’re slow. Extremely slow. You can’t dodge or hit effectively without taking some form of damage yourself. We need to work on your bloody agility.” Riley growls, throwing his training combat knife up slightly so it can make a full 360 degree turn in the air before falling back in his palm, a habit he has picked up over the years. Miles straightens up his posture, staring back at him with his lips pressed in a thin line.

“I’m just tired.” He argues as he clutches his own knife, his tail flicking behind him in annoyance.

“Tired?” Riley frowns back with his voice raising in tone and his eyes pinning Quaritch’s form down. “What’s tiredness got to do with this? You fight when the fucking necessity arises, no matter how tired you are! NOW FIGHT!”

And with that, Riley takes a spacious step forward, his long legs allowing him to reach Miles’ space with only a stride, before he too swings his knife in the same cutting motion. This time, Miles manages to dodge, again by just a hair strand, before he thrusts his own arm forward to try and jab the knife into Riley’s ribs. But Riley immediately blocks it with his elbow, forcing Miles’ hand away, before his other arm comes up to throw a punch in the Colonel’s face. Miles ducks, effectively missing the incoming punch but just as he’s about to throw one of his own, a sharp pain pierces his side. He grunts, looking down to see that Riley has quickly but forcefully jabbed the handle of his training combat knife into his side, surely having left a painful bruise. Riley then quickly shoves Miles back with a surprisingly soft kick to his stomach, creating distance between the two of them and sending the Colonel stumbling back with a grunt.

“As I said: slow.” The Recom Lieutenant comments condescendingly, his amber eyes judgmentally staring down at Quaritch. Miles clenches his jaw, glaring up at him as he presses his palm against the newly forming painful bruise on his side. This is going to be another long and exhausting training session.

There’s a bunch of things that Y/N dislikes about her Na’vi body. Like her tail, flicking around and hitting humans in the face everywhere she goes. Or her neural whip, which sends the most nerve wrecking throbs into her head every time it’s slightly harmed. But over the months, she has come to like and cherish the traits of her new body, even if she still finds them alien. However, Y/N hates every fucking thing about this cursed cycle. One week, one fucking week, and she’s already losing it. Her body feels on fire, the heat so intense that she isn’t able to fill her lungs with air. Her form is sweating profusely, her military tank top uncomfortably tight and damp against her striped cerulean skin. She feels like her body is maintaining a constant layer of heat around her, feeling like steam is emerging from her pores. But at least, luckily for her, she doesn’t feel any… needs… yet. Just this god forsaken heat. She doesn’t even know why. One day she was fine and dandy, and the next she’s sweating like a racehorse. By this point, she has removed her carrier plate, her tactical jacket, her gloves, the gear from her modular shooter’s belt, and has unwrapped the military-grade black adhesive camo tape from her long tail. The exposed skin feels much better under the cool air of the base, but it’s nowhere near enough to suppress the heat.

Her steps are long and hurried as she walks in the direction of the medical wing. The halls are deserted, with people having gone back to their dorms or quarters after the end of the workday. It’s 8PM as Y/N speed walks quickly through the building. The medical examination rooms should be closed for the day but the emergency wing is for sure active. After suffering this awful heat for two days straight, Y/N can’t take it anymore, especially with the amount of gear she has to wear all day, every day. She thought long and hard about having to take the hormone blockers that that doctor scientist prescribed her a week ago, and she came to the conclusion that if they lessen this goddamn heat, then she will have no choice but to take them.

She frowns as she keeps walking through the halls. It’s not even ovulation week, and this heat is already unbearable. A shudder rakes down her spine at the thought of how much worse that week could feel like. Fuck these animalistic Na’vi genes. When she signed that Project Phoenix contract no one had told her predecessor that for one week of every month she would be overcome with the unbearable carnal need to get dicked down. The worst part about it is that she even researched before signing it, and none of those books had anything in them about this “heat” part of the Na’vi reproductive cycle. Matter of fact none of those books had anything in them about any reproductive cycles. Research her ass. What do they even pay these scientists for if they’re gonna write half-ass informative books? And now here she is; breathless and sweating bullets, having to face the absolute fucking embarrassment of telling those humans that she needs her hormone blockers, because her body is preparing to want to be treated like a common brothel whore. Disgusting.

A new wave of scorching heat washes over Y/N. She almost cries out at the frustrating intensity of the temperature that overcomes her body, hotter than anything she has experienced these past two days. Her jaw clenches tightly, teeth pressed hard against each other, holding in the urge to release a cry of frustration. Her RDA standard-issued military tank top dampens even more with the new wave of sweat that soaks into it, feeling uncomfortably hot and sticky against her skin. Her throat closes up briefly, blocking her airflow. She grabs onto her Recom Breather desperately and brings up the mask to take the deepest inhale of carbon dioxide she has ever taken in her life.

“Fuck.” She breathes out in frustration, keeping the mask on her face for a few more seconds before putting it down, and clasping it against her belt again. Her body now feels worse, like there’s an open source of heat burning from inside herself. Her tail swings fast behind her, as if crying out at the discomfort. Immediately she grabs onto the end of her tank top, elegant fingers digging into the fabric before pulling it up and over her head in a quick and desperate motion. As soon as it’s out of her arms, she lets it drop on the hallway floor, closing her eyes at the cool air that hits the now exposed toned stomach, back and cleavage. Fuck that feels a bit better.

Y/N forgets about the fabric she just discarded as she continues walking faster towards the emergency wing, now in only her tactical pants, boots and bra. Her jaw is tense, cropped ears folded back and golden eyes searching angrily for the entrance of the facility. She needs those fucking hormone blockers. Immediately.

。。。

Miles pants like a dog, still catching his breath after that gruesome training, even though Riley left twenty minutes ago. He remains laying down in a starfish position on the training room floor, staring up at the ceiling as he fills his lungs with air. His heartbeat is still fast, the organ pumping blood rapidly through his exhausted body, deoxygenating its cells. His broad chest moves up and down with each breath, filling his lungs fast to get as much CO2 in his blood as needed. Fuck. That was intense. Jones had yet again beat his ass, as he has been doing for the past week. That damn cocky brit bastard. He hadn’t even spared a glance his way as he mumbled a “Tomorrow, sixteen hundred.” before grabbing his military jacket and walking away, leaving Miles breathless and exhausted on the training room floor, with new bruises littering his body.

Miles clenches his abs, lifting his upper body from the floor and sitting up, leaving behind a large sweat print of his back, while his bruised arms come up to wrap around his knees. His tail swishes slowly behind him on the black floor mat. He lowers his head and stretches his long fingers, clenching and unclenching his fists to feel around for any pain in his knuckles, and to see if the boxing wraps are still tight and fitted on his large hands. He had never tried these wraps before. When he had walked into this training room, the day after that meeting on the Holofloor, he was quite impressed at the amount of quality training equipment provided for the Recoms. Since he and his team had switched training in Bridgehead for training in the forest, he did not have a clue about any other facilities provided for them, except for the private gym that his team had. That was the only place in base that they frequented regularly.

He clenches and unclenches his fists again, his sharp eyes trailing over his hands. A deep sigh threatens to come out of his chest as he remembers that the day is not over, matter of fact he has so much more work to do. That report is proving to be a whole other pain in his ass. He remembers a good part of the Manual and Handbook, so he’s not having much trouble going over them, but the fact that he has to rack his brain to find each rule and regulation that he broke is really bothering him. Imagine then having to write whole paragraphs of explanations and reflections for them. He frowns at the thought. That damn woman, reducing him to this as if he’s an elementary school kid who has been punished with writing “I will be good.” one hundred times. At the pace he’s going, this report alone will take him at least two months to complete. He has to act faster. The sooner he is done with these damn punishments, the sooner he can get back on the field. He just needs to do everything according to the Major General’s liking. He has been a military man for long enough, he knows how to get on a General’s good side. She might be pissy right now because of what happened at the Three Brothers, but she will surely pipe down. When that happens, he can easily charm her, like he did with Ardmore. Surely, it will be easy work for him. He knows how to stroke a woman’s tail after all.

His throat bobs, swallowing down a fat glob of dehydrated spit that has pooled in his mouth. That General… She’s quite different from Ardmore. While Ardmore is calm and indifferent, L/N seems cocky, arrogant and clearly full of herself. The way she acted a week ago, dismissing people like they were trash littering her base, walking around like she owns and pays for the place, and condescendingly staring down at him and Lyle like they were just some other savages that stepped in her space. Miles’ lips press into a thin line at the thought. His brows furrow and he glares down at the floor mat below him. He had met plenty of military officers who looked down on him during his career, however this woman was by far the worst. She had no respect for his rank as she spoke to him, treating him like she would treat any other amateur soldier, in front of Ardmore and a two story hall full of people no less. The audacity.

With a grunt of effort, Miles stands up from the floor mat of the training room, hopping on his feet. It’s been a week now since he has started wearing combat boots and full tactical pants again. Because of the amount of time he spent barefoot, the new footwear and fabric on his sheens and calves feels very uncomfortable. It’s tight, harder to move in, and it leads his feet and legs therefore his body to overheat. But he has no choice but to get used to it again.

He walks over to one of the benches from the row placed against the east wall of the training room, where he has set down his personal backpack. Bending down, he grabs his large Recom-sized water bottle and towel, bringing them both up. Another thing he discovered besides the Recom facilities in Bridgehead, were the equipment and gadgets provided for them. (Well except for the ones he already knew about.) Like the water bottle he’s currently holding. The hydration bottles for the Recombinants are large, even for them. That’s so they can have a large amount of water without having to duck into human facilities to refill their bottles. They’re made with stainless steel, they’re triple layered insulated and the most useful thing for Miles is the bottle’s spout which has an open mouth with a built in straw, giving him the option to either chug or sip from it.

He pops open the lock of the water bottle to reveal the spout, before bringing it up to his mouth and putting it between his lips. His striped cheeks hollow as he tilts the bottle up and chugs down the much needed water, finally providing some relief to his dry mouth and throat as he gulps. Miles continuously drinks nearly two thirds of the bottle, before setting it down with a satisfied sigh and locking the cap over the spout. He places it in his backpack before unwrapping the thick white towel in his other hand, and bringing the fabric to his drenched skin so it can soak up the sweat his body has produced for the past six hours. He carefully drags it on his face and head before moving it down to his neck and chest, his tail moving behind him at the soothing motion.

Another thing that bothers Miles about Riley is that he doesn’t let him drink water or take breaks longer than five minutes during those six hours of training. He argues that he wants to strengthen Miles’ durability, because in battle you don’t have time to take a break or quench your thirst (debatable, considering the hydration packs on their backs), but man is it a pain in the ass. Especially after just starting to somewhat recover from his injuries.

After soaking up all of the sweat on his body with the towel, he places it behind his neck, letting the sides hang around it. He zips his backpack shut before throwing it over his right shoulder, the rustle of fabric echoing through the now empty training room. Prior to leaving, he walks over to the windows, taking one last deep breath of fresh air before closing and locking them. He shuts off the lights, plunging the training room in darkness, and walks right out the doors, letting them slide closed behind him.

Miles’ steps echo loudly through the empty halls of the building, even though he’s not walking firmly. His eyelids feel heavy, the exhaustion of the past six hours setting in as he continues walking through the SecOps facility. To get to the Deja Blu dorms, which are almost entirely empty now that his team is gone, he must find his way to the main hall, a large, open corridor that connects most of the departments in this part of Bridgehead. He really wants to just go to his quarters, take a shower and head to bed. He desperately needs sleep. Maybe he should postpone that report, work on it tomorrow…

He suddenly stops in his tracks, the echo of his footsteps dissipating with his halt. Turning to look around, Miles’ sharp eyes widen slightly, as his cropped ears raise up in interest. His sensitive feline nose has picked up something that has caught his attention, immediately clearing all the sleep away from his brain. His long tail swishes behind him curiously, as he tries to figure out what he’s picking up. There’s a very faint scent in the air, something that smells so damn good, piquing his interest strongly. His eyes roam around, trying to process what’s happening. His jaw clenches, and he swallows. What’s going on? Why is he suddenly so hyper focused on a scent in the air?

Not being able to help himself, he sniffs around lightly, taking in focused breaths to try and figure out where it’s coming from. His feet start moving on their own, following the information that is being picked up by the sharp V1R receptors in his nasal cavity. With now faster steps, he starts walking through the empty hallways again, now taking a different route. Continuing to focus on sniffing for the scent, he moves hurriedly, taking multiple turns through the corridors of the building, until he finds himself in the medical wing. The more he walks, the stronger the fragrance in the air gets, filling his airways nicely and making it easier for him to follow. Fuck. It smells so good. It’s so…. enticing…

With a final turn, he stops in his tracks. The intensity of the scent in the air is high, blocking his airflow in the best possible way. He lets out a soft sigh, closing his eyes as he takes a deep inhale. He can tell what it is now. Pheromones. Female pheromones to be more precise. But Recombinant or Avatar, he can’t tell. His mouth starts salivating, pooling and dripping down the sides of his tongue as he swallows it down, opening his eyes again. With his tail swishing behind him, he looks around, trying to figure out where his feet have taken him. Isn’t this the hallway that leads to the emergency wing? What’s going on here? Suddenly his sharp eyes catch something on the floor, a patch of forest green color that doesn’t match the dullness of the hallways of Bridgehead. His head lowers, ears folding back in confusion as he looks down at the floor. A military tank top? Why is there a random piece of clothing on the floor, in the middle of a hallway no less? If there was such a rush to remove someone’s clothing for an emergency, there would be much more noise coming from the emergency wing. But quite the opposite, it’s dead silent, the only sounds in the corridor being those of his now heavier breathing.

His feet are a bit hesitant as he takes a few steps forward, towards the fabric. He bends his massive frame down, reaching out for it. His large hand grasps the piece of clothing before he straightens up again, bringing it up with him. His tail is now fully raised up in interest as he stares at the fabric in his hand. It’s damp, and still warm. Unbeknownst to him, his pupils have dilated, now larger as the concentration of female pheromones in his nose completely fills his entire head. It’s this. This tank top is where the scent is most prominent. He swallows down again, staring down at it for a few more seconds, before slowly raising it up and pressing it against the flat pinkish tip of his feline nose, inhaling.

Immediately, a hot rush of pressurized blood travels down his body, washing down his crotch in an intense wave. He lets out a groan at the sudden pleasurable sensation, forgetting that he’s in the middle of a hallway, as he holds the tank top against his sensitive nose harder. His cock completely pops out of his sheath folds, pressing against the fabric of his boxer briefs and forming a bulge beneath his tactical pants. Miles’ mouth salivates uncontrollably at the mind blowing fragrance that rushes through his entire nasal cavity. His eyes squeeze shut and his brows furrow, as he deeply inhales the scent that emits from the forest green fabric clutched between his fingers. It smells so fucking enticing, keeping a hot rush of blood flowing through his dick, making it twitch in his pants. It’s so similar to the one he jerked off to a few days after he had just woken up for the first time. Yes, yes that’s it. It’s that specific scent!

His eyes snap wide open as a sudden wave of wetness seeps into his boxer briefs. With his ears folded back, he panics, thinking that he just creamed his pants, and immediately unbuckles his tactical belt and pulls the zipper of his camo pants down. His thumb hooks under the elastic band of his boxer briefs and pulls it away from him, allowing his eyes to peak down at the hardened thick cock between his legs. The light purplish head of his length is leaking a copious amount of precum into the fabric that it’s confined in, forming a considerable wet patch in the process. Miles lets go of the elastic to slide the same hand underneath his boxer briefs. His large palm wraps around his thick shaft, giving it a tight and pleasurable squeeze. He moans softly as the sensation courses through the genital, the sound echoing through the empty halls. His cock is sensitive, leaking another wave of precum under the touch and he squeezes his eyes shut. The Recom slides his hand out of his boxers, letting the elastic band fall back into place, before he zips up his camo pants but leaves his belt unbuckled. His long fingers clutch onto the fabric in his hand tightly, as a few drops of sweat form on his temple. He brings it up to his face again, taking another deep inhale and letting his eyes roll back at the scent that fills his head once more. His mouth salivates further, cock twitching desperately in his pants.

Noises emerge from the emergency wing, footsteps following shortly after. His head snaps up, amber eyes widening in caution as his heartbeat quickens in his chest. Someone’s coming. He needs to head to his room. Now.

Miles is no stranger to masturbation. Matter of fact, he used it a lot as a way to overcome his insomnia the first few months of waking up as a Recombinant. The rush, the pleasure and the fatigue it gave him when draining his balls empty was everything he needed to fall asleep soundly. But as things in his life started changing rapidly week by week, he stopped. Didn’t even cross his mind once. However, the position he currently finds himself in, threw all of that self control out of the window.

Miles is laying on his back on the bed, completely naked and with his thick thighs spread. His feet are planted on the mattress below him, and his large right palm is wrapped impossibly tight around the fat, veiny shaft between his legs. No lube or spit is needed as thick precum leaks from the slit of his penis, wetting down his cock and providing filthy squelching sounds with each jerk.

“Fuck.” Is the only grunt that manages to come out of his salivating mouth, as he inhales deeply the scent that emits from the fabric pressed tightly against his sensitive feline nose. His room is dark, the only light coming from the large window that faces the monotone landscape of Bridgehead. With eclipse having fallen hours ago, the beautiful night sky is illuminated with the array of stars and constellations that decorate the Alpha Centauri System, casting light in his room and over his form, as he indulges in his filthy, perverted self-pleasure.

A soft moan escapes Miles’ throat as he inhales again. His arm rapidly works to pump his solid hard cock, eyes closed in concentration and brows furrowed in pleasure. The muscles of his abdomen are tense, clenched under the pleasure he’s providing himself with, while his heavy balls jerk upwards with each tug of his dick.

Fuck it smells so damn good. It smells so enticing, inviting him to come over and force a horny bitch underneath him, before stuffing his cock into her hot, ready to be bred cunt. The pheromones that are soaked into the dark green fabric of the tank top have awakened every single breeding instinct within his brain, immediately rushing hot blood into his length to prepare it for impregnation. His head is dizzy in lust, intoxicated by the scent of female essence and the thought of milking his cock with a tight, drenched pussy.

Another light moan leaves the base of his throat at the thought, his deep and raspy voice echoing through the silence of the room and the claps of his hand fisting his cock rapidly. He takes another deep inhale, pressing the tank top harder against his face as if trying to inhale the piece of clothing itself. With his amber eyes squeezed shut, it’s easy for him to fantasize in his head the image of him fucking into a hot, horny female Na’vi. Her blue, striped skin is drenched in sweat, secreting out the same pheromones that are soaked into the fabric against his face. He’s taking her doggy style, large dick wrapped in the hot velvety walls of her cunt as he plows into her from behind like there’s no tomorrow. She moans like a whore as she arches her back for him, her tail raising up in pleasure as he grabs it by the base to use as a handle so he can stuff his cock in deeper. Her plush asscheeks recoil each time his lower abdomen comes down on them with loud claps, echoing like music to his ears.

“Fuck my cunt, please! Stuff it to the brim with your hot cum and breed me!!” The faceless woman below him pleads with a horny moan, moving her ass back to meet his heavy thrusts.

Back to reality, Miles grunts loudly, eyes still squeezed shut to prevent his mind from losing the filthy image in his head. Immediately he pulls his upper body to sit up, turning around impatiently to grab one of his large Recom-sized pillows on his bed. He moves himself on his knees, opening his eyes as his long tail raises behind him in an excited high arch. Maneuvering the pillow in front of him, he makes short work of it as he folds it in half. His large hands bring it closer to himself, until the bulbous, leaking head of his cock touches between the folded sides. He moves his right hand down to grasp it, giving a few tight pumps before sticking his hips forward and sliding it in between the fluffy sides of the pillow. With a horny moan he grabs the pheromone drenched tank top again, putting it in front of him on the mattress. This time he leans forward, his stomach and chest resting over the pillow as he holds himself up on his elbows and knees. Wasting no time, he smashes his face against the tank top on his sheets, nuzzling the clothing with his muzzle before his hips start thrusting, fat cock fucking into the fluffy headrest below him. His eyes squeeze shut again, mind going back to his fantasy. This time he has leaned forward on his elbows above her sweaty, naked frame, still in doggy as his firm stomach and chest press against her toned back. Her soft ass is mushed against his lower abdomen, cushioning his hips nicely as he fucks into her hot, drenched pussy. Instead of the fabric against his face, he imagines that it’s the crook of her neck; the part where her pheromones are more prominent, as it secretes more sweat with the heat that has enveloped her.

“Ohhh yes~” She moans out beneath him, her vice tight cunt gripping onto his fat cock for dear life as he splits it apart. Miles grunts, increasing his pace before his wet tongue darts out to lick at her neck, tasting her sweat off her skin. The saliva that has overfilled his mouth drips down on the fabric against his face, forming a dark wet patch as he licks a long broad stripe on it before taking that part of the cloth into his mouth. Another filthy moan resonates from his throat as the sweat drenched into the tank top falls upon his taste buds, his brows furrowing further in delight. His eyes roll back into his skull, even though they’re squeezed shut in pleasure, as a new wave of precum washes down his length, soaking into the plush mass of the pillow below.

“Ahh~ Miles~” The object of his desire moans beneath him in his erotic fantasy, her elegant fingers clutching onto the soft, messy fabric of his sheets. He bites and sucks on her supple skin with fervor, loving every bit of the sweat that he licks off her and into his hungry mouth.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He purrs against her dewy neck, his breath caressing it lightly as he continues ramming passionately into her from behind. “Ya wanna cum? Is that what yer asking for?”

His voice is raspy, the pronunciation of his words more slurry and rushed, as his head gets lighter. She whimpers underneath him, nails digging into his velvety sheets as her cunt swells and stretches with each drag of his shaft along her hot walls, wonderfully tight around him.

“Yes~ Yes~ Cum with me, please! Dump your load all inside of my womb and breed me!” She screams hungrily, fucking back onto his cock passionately like a bitch in heat, her pussy clamping so impossibly tight around him as her hot arousal drips down his full, heavy balls.

Miles moans loudly, fucking harder and faster into the pillow beneath him with his eyes squeezed shut. His tongue darts out to lick another wet, broad stripe on the cloth mushed against his muzzle, taking in the taste of those delicious female pheromones again. The room is filled with ruffling, heavy breathing and raspy moans as he continues indulging in his self-pleasure. Another grunt leaves his throat, tingles starting to creep up his thick thighs and on his testicles which are continuously slapping against the soft, fluffy pillow he’s using as a fleshlight. By the heaviness in his balls and the strong tightness in his penis, he can tell, this is going to be a big load. Now he starts fucking into the pillow like there’s no tomorrow, his mind simulating the feeling of plowing like an animal into the woman beneath him, pistoning his hips to slam against her plush ass. Since he’s getting closer to his high, the image in his head gets a little blurry, some of it fading. He frowns, trying to focus, to create a clearer one so he can get himself to cum. Swallowing down hard, he concentrates, thinking to himself. What does she look like? His brain works, the image appearing again, h/c hair coming into view beneath him, soaked in the sweet sweat that covers her smooth, striped blue skin. Her beautiful moans echo like music in his ears, the voice sounding oddly familiar.

“Breed me Miles~” She whimpers softly, her thrusts back on his cock still as fast and desperate as before. “Breed me while I cum for you~”

And she follows on her promise. Her hot cunt clamps impossibly tight around his large dick, pulsing around him hard enough to milk the fattest load he can muster from his balls. And that’s all it takes. With an animalistic growl, Miles bites down hard onto the fabric against his face, imagining that it’s the crook of her neck as he sinks his strong teeth into it. His jaw locks on the fabric, before he slams his hips one last time into the pillow and lets go. His thighs flex, urethra throbbing intensively, pulsing hot pleasure coursing down his veiny cock, as a fat, heavy load shoots uncontrollably from the head of his penis into the depth of the pillow. His balls are tight as they empty their reserve, his tail raised straight up in the air, with the hair at the end of it now fluffed out and puffy. He cums for what feels like forever, grunting and imagining that it’s her hot cunt where he’s dumping his load instead of the headrest object beneath him. As he does so a shudder rakes down his spine, the idea of breeding a hot female Recom or Avatar and stuffing her round with his child prickling goosebumps into his bruised skin, the pain mixing sweetly with the pleasure of his mind blowing orgasm. After some moments, his body slowly relaxes, muscles unclenching and letting him fall down softly onto the pillow beneath him, squishing it with his weight while his spent cock remains inside of it. He pants, finally opening his sharp eyes only to find out that his vision is dizzy from the intensity of his high. His own body is now covered in a layer of sweat, cooling down the slowly rising heat of his skin and flesh. With a bit of effort, he swallows down the excess saliva in his mouth, that sweet, delicious taste still present in his tastebuds. His cheek is now mushed against the fabric beneath his face, as his half lidded eyes focus somewhere random within his room.

Fuck. These must be the urges that the science pukes explained to him a week ago. Heat in his body, constant boners, the overwhelming urge to have offsprings, enticed by the scent of the female Recoms and Avatars but irritated by the males’. These all sound like nightmares to him. Imagine having to walk around Bridgehead with a constant boner, which is in the humans’ eye level no less. Luckily, those hormone blockers that he was prescribed seem to be working. Hopefully there won’t be any more side effects.

Miles frowns. Reproductive cycle. Yeah right. Sounds like a whole load of shit to him. These science pukes probably fucked them up in some way that they weren’t supposed to and now they’re blaming it on this “reproductive cycle”, as a way to save their fragile asses. Fuckin’ wimps.

His thoughts are interrupted as the scent that comes from the fabric beneath his face, overtakes his airflow yet again. He closes his eyes, letting out a satisfied hum. It’s so good. So fucking good. How can a Na’vi woman smell so goddamn mind blowing? To the point that it catches his attention in the middle of a hallway and makes him rut into his own pillow desperately? He can only imagine what the real thing smells like. Must be even more than divine.

With a bit of effort, he pushes himself backwards to sit up on his calves. He looks down, before opening the fold of the pillow. Just as he predicted, it was a huge load. It has soaked into the fabric and left a large, wet patch, that glows softly in a blue hue against the darkness of his room. A week ago, the science pukes explained this to him too. Apparently, the more fertile the emission, the more vivid and bright is the glow. It depends on the male’s desire to conceive, and his sperm can glow just like the bioluminescent freckles on his body. Weird, isn’t it?

His cock lays there, spent and softening, having taken enough of the abuse by the cloth. It’s covered in cum, wet and slimy as it rests above the pillow, cooling down. Miles’ jaw clenches as a new thought pops up in his head.

Slowly, he reaches his large hand forward for the tank top on his sheets, his fingers grasping it before bringing it to his crotch. Carefully, he takes his sensitive cock into his other hand and places it on the forest green cloth, wiping it on the fabric and leaving behind patches of the mess of cum from his length. As he does so, a new but softer tingle of pleasure creeps down his genital, making it twitch against his rough hand.

Miles lets out a small sigh of satisfaction as he slowly wraps the tank top around his thick cock. His eyelids close, now more gentle as he throws his head back softly and soon enough starts jerking his dick again, now with the piece of clothing itself. Screw work for tonight. That report can wait.

“And then, he hit me with a “It was part of a strategy.” as he was standing there, in the middle of the Holofloor with his bare toes on display.”

The laughter of both women travels sweetly through the air, under the beautiful orange hues of the sky above them, right before eclipse. It accompanies the distant sounds of the aircrafts as they land for the day on the LZ, and the screeching breaks of the high-speed maglev trains stopping far away in the distance. Y/N and Toddy are sitting on the roof of an unfinished building, sipping from a respective can of “Viperwolf Ale”, with a large leaf on the ground between them that contains roasted sturmbeest skewers, served with hex root and beanpod potato over citrus, grain seasoned with rock salt and prepared exquisitely by Toddy. The dish now remains half eaten as both women tell each other about their week while enjoying the view in front of them. Toddy takes a sip from her can, letting the alcohol flow down her throat smoothly, before a small smile appears on her gorgeous face.

“Man, I wish I had this much of an effect over people as ya have.” She comments in a gentle voice, her beautiful saffron eyes tracing the clouds far away in the sky. Y/N chuckles, turning her head to look at the side of the Avatar’s face.

“It’s nice, up to a certain point. You can get shit done but then you realize that at the end of the day people are never true to you. They just fear you.” She replies, turning her head back again to watch the eclipse, before adding on to her reply with a shrug. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Toddy chuckles, sweetly as always. She then looks down, as if pondering on something, before she turns towards Y/N. Leaning on the heel of her palm behind her, her upper body faces the Recom. Toddy’s eyes slowly trail up Y/N’s form, almost half lidded, tracing every detail on her uniform, before they land on her pretty face. Y/N’s amber eyes stare back at her, her pupils reflecting the beautiful array of colors up in the afternoon sky.

“I ain’t afraid of ya.” Toddy says softly, her melodic voice low and smooth in the Recom’s ears, while her eyes move down to trace the Recom’s soft lips. Y/N’s scent has been filling her airways for hours now. It’s so delicious, soft and enticing, and Toddy holds back the urge to roll her eyes to the back of her head. Her scent was always so good but this time it has tripled. Judging by the beads of sweat on her temple and the way her pheromones leave no room for air in Toddy’s pink feline nose, Y/N’s body must be preparing to start its reproductive cycle. A soft, purplish blush emerges on her beautiful face at the thought, coloring the vivid cerulean skin of her cheeks, dotted by the unique pattern of bioluminescent freckles. Y/N looks back at her with a softened expression, her eyes hooding over briefly at the sight of Toddy’s soft blush before a deep chuckle leaves the bottom of her throat.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to conclude my judgement, Toddy.”

The Avatar breathes slowly as she continues looking over Y/N’s features with half lidded eyes. Before long, her elegant hand comes up to Y/N’s eye level, her soft fingers trail up her jawline, until they reach one of her cropped ears. Toddy’s gorgeous eyes hold a mix of sadness and anger as she softly touches it, stroking the cartilage gently.

“I can’t believe they’ve done did this ta ya. Cut yer long, beautiful Na’vi ears. Reduce them ta this as if they’re handlin’ animals. I wouldn’ even treat ma animals this way, I love ‘em too much.” She says softly, her smooth voice mirroring her mixed emotions as she continues stroking the cropped ear in her soft hand with her thumb. “This is just cruel.”

Y/N’s eyes are glued on Toddy’s gorgeous face, tracing over her beautiful feminine features. Her tail swishes softly behind her, as a foreign feeling starts to bubble in the pit of her stomach.

Toddy’s breathing gets heavier as she realizes that Y/N is letting her touch her like this, without saying anything or pulling away. They’re now even closer than they were a few moments ago, and Toddy can feel Y/N’s soft breath on her face. She swallows down, her plump pink lips coming apart briefly before closing up again. Her eyes slowly move away from Y/N’s ear, to her beautiful face, and then back down to her soft-looking lips as they were before. Toddy’s sharp jaw moves sideways once before coming back to place, as she considers something.

“Y/N…” She whispers softly, her melodic voice smoothly entering the Recom’s ears and prickling goosebumps on her blue skin.

“Will ya…” She hesitates for a moment, letting out a soft breath. “Will ya k-“

Footsteps echo behind them. Both women come apart quickly and turn their heads back, until their eyes land on the friendly male Recom approaching. Henry gives them both a smile as he makes his way towards them, stopping a bit further away from where they are seated.

“General L/N. Scout Williams.” He greets politely, giving each of them a respectful nod. Toddy smiles back at him, giving him a small wave of her hand and Y/N’s ears raise slightly as she nods in return, signaling for him to be at ease.

“General, I have a few documents that General Ardmore wants you to go over before she signs them off for tonight. It seems that her patience is starting to run thin, so it would be appreciated if you were to go over them at this time.”

Y/N nods in understanding, already moving to stand up from her place on the edge of the building’s roof. She gently dusts off her tactical pants, before turning to look down at Toddy with a soft smile.

“I’ll be back in a few.”

Toddy nods in reply, with a small smile of her own. However, Y/N doesn’t miss the faint trace of disappointment in her beautiful eyes as she turns to watch the horizon again. The Recom then turns around and walks away. But this time, she misses how Henry and Toddy exchange a look between them, before he turns around as well and follows behind his General.

“So… Toddy Williams, huh?” Henry comments with a slight smirk, watching as Y/N continues signing one of the documents on the datapad.

“What’re you on about?” The female Recom replies with a raised brow, sharp eyes already tracing over the rows of the next document.

“Nothing.” Henry chuckles in response, his head turning to look away at a random corner of his General’s office. Silence falls between them, the only sounds being the ones of the pen on the screen in Y/N’s hand. However, after some moments, the expression on Henry’s face soon falls, his eyes slowly hooding over as he stares at random decorations on the shelves.

“Can I ask for a favor? As a friend, not as a soldier.”

That catches Y/N off guard. The pen on the screen halts its movement as Y/N stares up from her datapad, towards the Recom sitting in one of the two cushion chairs in front of her desk.

“What?” She asks unsurely, with her cropped ears slightly folding back, wondering if she misheard the low-spirited tone in his smooth voice.

Henry hesitates for a moment, swallowing, wondering if he should continue. After a few seconds, he finally turns to look at Y/N, his handsome face bearing an expression that she is much too familiar with seeing on him. Sadness, pity.

“Be nice to Toddy for me, please. She has had a very hard life.”

Y/N’s jaw clenches, still caught off guard at the sudden change in atmosphere. She remains like that for a few more seconds before lowering her eyes and nodding her head slowly.

“I see. Well, if it puts you at ease, I was not planning on turning on her anytime soon. She’s… a pleasant acquaintance.” She replies as her hand starts moving again, continuing to sign the rest of the pages on the document. “But, if you don’t mind me asking, where exactly is this coming from? You don’t usually do this.”

Henry’s eyes lower again. He remains silent for a few seconds, breathing gently.

“I’ve had the chance to work with Toddy since we landed on Pandora. She has been nothing but kindhearted and gentle to me since day one, guiding and helping me at any chance she got, and I actually thought of recommending her to you as our very own personal scout. A part of our team.” His voice holds emotion in it, melancholic yet happy. But soon, his tone falls, plunging back to the sadness that Y/N is now sure that she didn’t mishear.

“However…”

He hesitates, allowing himself to take a deeper breath. Y/N now lifts her head to look at him again. Her beautiful face soon morphs into concern at the layer of wetness that has coated Henry’s amber irises. He swallows down hard, blinking a few times to clear his eyes before continuing.

“Toddy’s human body is very sick. She has terminal cancer, along with uterine cancer and type two diabetes. The retina of her eyes are badly damaged and she is partially blind. Her body is thin and her immune system is weak, she can move and run but it tires her very quickly and if she doesn’t rest enough she faints and vomits constantly. On top of all of this, you can tell by her human body that she has struggled heavily with depression, you’ll know when you see it. Her family is very dysfunctional, and they have caused her a significant amount of severe trauma, that haunts her every step of every day. She grew up in a farm and knowing how polluted those parts of the Earth are, she has developed these diseases throughout her life. By being poor, she could never get the right treatments, which means that the cancers in her body have developed to the point of no return.”

Y/N clenches her jaw painfully tight, her two rows of teeth clamping hard against each other. The upper canines and lateral incisors of her mouth dig into the inner flesh of her bottom lip, enough to hurt but not to pierce through. Her sharp eyes are frozen in place, pinning the man in front of her down. The grip she has on the electronic pen tightens strongly, the knuckles of her hand turning white.

“What are you saying?” She asks, her tone firm and commanding, yet the expert soldier in front of her doesn’t miss the traces of fear in it. He shakes his head, closing his eyes to prevent the wetness that threatens to form on the waterline of his lower lids from doing so.

“She doesn’t have much to live, Y/N.”

The electronic pen snaps in two in Y/N’s hand with a loud echo. The blunt fingernails of her hand dig into her palm below, forming painful half moons. Her golden eyes threaten to widen in disbelief, as she stares at her Master Gunnery Sergeant with her elegant brows furrowed. Yet something inside of her has already started moving through her chest, eating away at those feelings she let herself form these past weeks. What..? Toddy… is going to die? No, that can’t be. That can’t be true. A harsh, choking tightness forms in the depth of her chest, preventing her lungs from expanding fully.

Toddy…. is dying?

Y/N finally closes her eyes, focusing on grounding her mind. She bottles the emotions running through her chest, letting herself take a long yet imprisoning inhale. You’ve only known the girl briefly, Y/N. You can’t feel for her. She quickly tells herself, shutting out the other voices that have started speaking up in her head.

She swallows thickly, immediately forcing herself to push aside any emotions within her, as she has always done, all her life. She looks down at some random corner of her office, before nodding once in understanding.

“I see… I’ll be sure to treat her accordingly then. Thank you for filling me in on the situation.” Y/N says softly, before turning her attention on the datapad again, to try and distract her mind. Henry doesn’t answer, instead he watches as she goes back to work, fetching a small box from her desk drawer to take out another electronic pen, the last one laying snapped upon the surface of the wood. The male Recom’s eyes trace her movement, sad yet a hint of disappointment hidden within them. Y/N isn’t showing any hints of sadness. She’s avoiding feeling any emotions again, isn’t she?

After a few silent minutes, Y/N hands the datapad back to Henry, the documents reviewed and approved for Ardmore to sign off. The Sergeant takes back the device, a large gloved hand grasping it before putting it away somewhere in the pockets of his carrier plate. He stands up from the chair, giving Y/N a salute of respect. The General nods in return and stands up from her desk as well, watching him with focused eyes as he turns around to take his leave. Henry’s combat boots thud loudly on Y/N’s hardwood floors as he makes his way through the spacious office and to the sliding door, but they stop just as he’s about to cross the entrance. He turns his head, his handsome profile peaking over the right utility strap of his carrier plate, as he opens his mouth to speak again.

“You know… she kind of has a crush on you.”

Y/N’s amber eyes widen at the sudden statement, snapping towards him before blinking her long lashes rapidly, staring at her Sergeant as if he just grew a second head.

“Huh?”

Henry looks back at her over his shoulder, a deep chuckle gently leaving his throat at her reaction.

“Yeah. She really likes you.” He continues with a light smile, his eyes looking at Y/N softly. “Treasure that. Please.”

Y/N swallows thickly, her tongue moving to press against the soft inside of her cheek. She nods, looking down at her desk. A warm, soft feeling starts bubbling in the pit of her stomach, twisting like velvet against her insides, feeling so wonderfully gentle in contrast to the heavy pit that still weights into her from the earlier conversation. She tries to ignore it.

“I see… I’ll uh… I’ll keep that in mind.”

Henry smiles kindly, looking away before nodding and continuing to head out as before. Y/N stands there, fidgeting with the electronic pen in her hand and trying to hide a smile that threatens to show on her velvety lips. Then suddenly, her eyes widen in realization, head snapping towards Henry’s direction just as he steps foot outside of her office.

“Wait, how long have you known this? Were you the one who let her into my office that day?!”

But the Sergeant quickly takes his escape, his joyful laughter resonating through the empty hall outside.

Title explanation:

Gear Adrift - Gear found left lying around or unguarded. It comes from the military saying "Gear adrift, must be a gift!". It means that unguarded gear just became your gear, whether you need it or not. It’s also a warning to Marines to secure their equipment and personal belongings before they get lost or stolen. In this case, the gear adrift refers to Y/N’s discarded military tank top, which ultimately became a “gift” for Miles.

End of chapter notes:

Whose footsteps do y’all think came from the emergency wing before Miles escaped to his room? Take a tiny guess <3. (・ω・)ノ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

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