#and yes I Will take suggestions for revisions

[blaseballmagic]

Blaseball teams if they were pokemon teams part 1!! (Typed out teams below cut)

Yellowstone magic

1. Wyrdeer

2. Delphox

3. Hatterene

4. Minior

5. Torterra

6. Bouffalant

Seattle Garages

1. Toxtricity

2. Meloetta

3. Revaroom

4. Exploud

5. Noivern

6. Garchomp

Hellmouth Sunbeams

1. Solrock

2. Sandslash

3. Torkoal

4. Volcarona

5. Houndoom

6. Gigalith

Philly Pies

1. Appletun

2. Cherubi

3. Fidough

4. Gurdurr

5. Alcremie

6. Pumpkaboo

NY Mills

1. Raticate

2. Pidove

3. Charizard

4. Furfrou

5. Stakataka

6. Gigantamax Duraludon

SF Lovers

1. Luvdisc

2. Swoobat

3. Spritzee

4. Sylveon

5. Smoochum

6. Salazzle

[therighthandofvengeance]

As it’s his first solo album after leaving his band, “Marz Ryots”, John Sheridan is nervous about touring “Falling at Zha’Ha’Dum”. When Kosh, the house manager, tells him that he’s been double-booked with Grey Camerata, he has to discuss the best use of the time slot with the lead virtuosa (and soon-to-be conductor) Delenn Mir. Who’d’ve thought that the key to harmony was in her sharp mind?

[dksfml]

what would you do if I went to touch you now? - riki

pairing: younger!nishimura riki x older!reader genre: office romance, flirty niki, workplace tension, niki teaches you japanese. summary: despite your best efforts to maintain professionalism, the undeniable tension between you and riki makes it impossible to resist the connection growing between you. it doesn't help that he calls you "noona" at work. warnings: suggestive, kissing, implied smut word count: 2.7k

your professional relationship with riki had been straightforward when he first started. quiet and shy, he took careful notes during meetings, absorbing the work culture like a sponge. as his mentor, you were tasked with guiding him through the ropes, ensuring he understood the nuances of the company.

“make sure he knows what he’s doing,” your boss had instructed, handing you the responsibility like a personal mission. and you took it seriously. riki was younger by a few years, in need of your guidance. at first, he seemed timid, his questions asked in soft tones, his posture always slightly defensive, as if afraid of stepping out of line. you naturally fell into a nurturing role, steering him whenever he seemed unsure, offering advice when necessary. but as time passed, riki's confidence grew, along with a noticeable shift in your dynamic.

it started subtly—small changes in his attitude. his work improved dramatically, and soon he was strutting around with a smirk, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. his newfound cockiness was relentless, even though you reminded him to stay focused.

“riki,” you sighed, standing by his desk, flipping through his presentation slides. “i told you to cross-reference these with last quarter’s data. this is incomplete.”

he leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin. “i was going to fix it, but i thought i’d leave some for you to correct, noona. keeps me humble.”

you narrowed your eyes, unamused. “this isn’t a game. you can’t slack off just because you’re comfortable. these clients are important, and if we don’t get this right, it’s on both of us.”

his grin faltered, but just as quickly, he masked it with a wink. “got it. i’ll fix it. but only if you promise to let me take you out for dinner when we nail this project.”

you shook your head, suppressing a smile. “this is serious. you missed an email i asked you to forward last week. and calling me ‘noona’ here at work? we need to keep this professional.”

riki straightened, the playful glint in his eyes dimming. “right,” he said, his voice softer. “i’ll keep it professional. but you can’t blame me for trying.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but deep down, you felt a rush of excitement at his boldness. “i want those revisions by the end of the day, riki. and no more flirting until this is done.”

“yes, ma’am,” he replied, a mock salute on his part, and for the first time in weeks, there was no teasing in his tone.

now, the two of you were working on a critical project, preparing a proposal for a japanese client your company was eager to sign. it wasn’t just a regular pitch; this deal was huge—a make-or-break moment that could lead to long-term collaboration. you had thrown yourself into the task, familiarizing yourself with every detail of the project. but there was one problem: the language barrier. the client preferred to communicate in japanese, and while you had learned some phrases, you were nowhere near fluent.

that’s when it struck you—riki was fluent in japanese. you recalled him casually mentioning it one afternoon, and now that you needed the skill, you struck a deal with him: he’d tutor you in japanese after work, and in return, you’d ensure his involvement in the project didn’t go unnoticed by the higher-ups. a fair exchange, strictly professional, you told yourself.

later that night, during one of your lessons, the atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension. riki sat across from you, leaning forward as you practiced reading a passage. you stumbled over a phrase, and his sharp gaze caught your mistake.

“no,” he corrected, his voice low and firm, sending shivers down your spine. “it’s nihon, not nee-hon. you’re stressing the first syllable too much.”

his tone was both authoritative and teasing, igniting a spark of mischief that made your heart race. “let’s go over that phrase again,” he said, his voice soft yet commanding. you nodded, struggling to focus, but the heat radiating from his body made it impossible to think clearly.

“try it one more time, noona,” he urged, leaning in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. the closeness sent a jolt of electricity coursing through you, and you instinctively shifted, seeking a little more space.

“um, okay,” you stammered, trying to keep your composure, but the way he looked at you—a mix of amusement and something deeper—made your cheeks flush. “i’m trying.”

riki leaned in even closer, his shoulder pressing against yours. “you’re not trying hard enough,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. “what’s the matter? feeling a little shy?”

“shy? no,” you protested, your voice barely above a whisper. “i just—”

“just what?” he interrupted, his gaze piercing into yours, his confidence unwavering. “can’t handle a little pressure?”

your heart raced at the challenge in his voice. “at work, i’m your superior, riki. you need to respect that.”

“respect?” he echoed, leaning back just enough to gauge your reaction. “or maybe you need to realize that i’m not the junior anymore. you’re the one who seems to struggle with that.” his eyes danced with mischief, and you felt a thrill race through you.

“riki,” you warned, but your voice faltered, unable to hide the quiver of excitement that danced beneath your words.

“tell me you’re not interested,” he challenged, leaning closer, their faces mere inches apart. the air thickened with tension, and you could feel his warmth enveloping you. “because i know you feel it too.”

before you could respond, the sudden power cut plunged the office into darkness, leaving only the dim emergency lights flickering above. your heart pounded, and the adrenaline heightened every sensation.

“well, i guess that’s the end of tonight’s lesson,” you attempted to joke, but your voice trembled, revealing your unease.

riki’s eyes glinted in the low light, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “no, we’re not done.” he leaned closer again, his hand brushing against yours, sending a wave of heat up your arm.

you pulled back slightly, heart racing. “riki, this isn’t—”

“isn’t what?” he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent a thrill down your spine. “we both know there’s something between us.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but the urgency in his gaze silenced you. your breath hitched at the finality in his tone. the professional barrier you had carefully constructed was crumbling.

“we should go,” you muttered, fumbling to gather your things. but riki reached out, his hand brushing against yours, halting your movements.

“we could go to your place,” he suggested, his voice dangerously low. “finish the lesson there.”

the implications hung heavily between you. you met his gaze, searching for any trace of the playful riki you’d trained, the one who’d always danced around the line but never crossed it. but there was nothing playful in his expression now—only a raw intensity that made your skin prickle.

you nodded, unable to trust your voice, and within moments, you were heading out of the office together. the ride to your apartment was silent, the weight of what was about to happen sitting thick between you.

the door to your apartment clicked shut behind you, and the familiar surroundings only heightened the surreal nature of what was happening. you barely had time to turn on a light before riki was in front of you, his presence magnetic. the silence between you was thick with everything left unsaid, but his gaze—intense, burning—spoke volumes.

for a moment, neither of you moved, both caught in the tension that had been building for weeks. his eyes swept over your face, lingering on your lips as if contemplating his next move. you stood your ground, refusing to back away even as your pulse raced in anticipation.

“you’re still thinking about work, aren’t you?” his voice was low, teasing. he stepped closer, just close enough that the warmth of his body radiated through the space between you. “always so professional, noona.”

you swallowed, feeling the flutter of nerves in your stomach. “someone has to keep things in check,” you replied, though your voice faltered just slightly, betraying the tug of desire that made your skin prickle with anticipation.

he chuckled, soft and deep. “maybe it’s time you stopped thinking for once.”

before you could react, his hand slid up your arm, fingers curling gently around the nape of your neck as he pulled you toward him. his lips met yours in a kiss that was far from the playful teasing you were used to. it was hungry, intense, like he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had. the taste of him was intoxicating, and before you realized it, you were kissing him back with just as much need.

your back hit the wall softly as his body pressed into yours, every inch of him enveloping you, filling the space around you. his hands trailed down your sides, fingers ghosting over the fabric of your blouse before dipping under the hem, finding bare skin.

“riki,” you whispered, breaking the kiss for a breath, but your voice was breathless, needy. his name left your lips like a confession.

his lips barely left yours as he responded, his voice a raspy whisper. “you keep acting like you’re in control, noona,” he murmured against your skin, his hands now slipping around your waist, pulling you even closer. “but i don’t think you are anymore.”

the challenge in his voice made something inside you snap. you wanted to respond, to assert yourself as you always had, but the heat between you was overwhelming, and before you could muster a reply, his lips were on your neck, pressing soft, hot kisses along your skin that left you trembling.

“i’m not the kid you used to boss around,” he murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your ear. “you can’t keep treating me like i don’t know what i’m doing.”

his hands slid lower, and you gasped as his touch became more insistent, his fingers deftly working to unbutton your blouse. his lips returned to yours, and this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, as if he wanted to savor every second. there was nothing hurried about the way his hands roamed your body, exploring with a confidence that made your head spin.

you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, your fingertips brushing over the smooth lines of his chest. he was handsome, undeniably so, but up close like this—underneath the layers of work clothes and the carefully constructed professionalism—he was breathtaking. your hands trailed over his skin, feeling the tautness of his muscles, the way his breath hitched slightly as you touched him.

he grinned against your lips as you pressed your body into his, feeling the hardness of his form against you. “see?” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “you can’t even resist me now, noona.”

you wanted to argue, to assert your authority as you always had, but the way he looked at you—like he knew exactly how to unravel you—left you powerless.

his hands made quick work of the rest of your clothes, every movement deliberate, controlled. he was no longer the shy, uncertain junior you had once guided. here, in the dim light of your apartment, riki was commanding, confident, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom, laying you down with a gentleness that contrasted with the heat of the moment. and then he was over you, his hands exploring, his lips trailing over your skin in ways that made your breath hitch. you responded in kind, your fingers digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

when his mouth found yours again, it was softer this time, but no less intense. his touch was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of your body, every gasp and shiver he elicited. you couldn’t help the sounds that escaped you, soft whimpers that only seemed to spur him on.

“don’t think just because i’m calling you ‘noona’ that i’ll let you keep this up,” he teased, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “you’re not the only one who can take charge.”

the air between you was charged with desire, thick with the tension that had been simmering for so long. every touch, every breath shared between you was electric, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. you had never imagined this—being here, with him, in this way—but now that you were, there was no going back.

and when he finally claimed you, when the last barriers between you fell away, it was like everything else disappeared. there was no work, no professionalism, no rules—just you and him, bodies moving together in perfect sync, lost in the heat of the moment.

the world outside faded into oblivion, and all that remained was the sound of your mingled breaths, the feeling of his skin against yours, the way he made you feel as though you were the only two people who mattered.

and in that moment, nothing else did.

“i still do want to take you on a dinner date though," riki said, breaking the silence with a light-hearted lilt that hung in the air like a sweet melody.

you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his, as if seeking confirmation that this wasn’t just a fleeting fantasy. “really?” the question slipped out before you could hold it back, a mix of surprise and delight dancing in your voice.

“yeah, really,” he replied, his smile growing wider. “just you and me. somewhere nice. maybe italian? i hear they have the best pasta in town.”

his words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, grounding you in the moment. you could feel your heart quicken, the anticipation stirring something deep within you. “that sounds perfect. when do you want to go?”

“how about friday?” he suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’ll even let you choose the place.”

a laugh escaped your lips, the sound light and airy. “i hope you’re ready for my pick then. i might take you to the best italian place in town, and you’ll be regretting it the next day.”

riki chuckled, the warmth of his laughter making your heart flutter. “i’ll take that risk. besides, i have a feeling it’ll be worth it.”

in that moment, as the soft glow of the streetlights seeped through the window, you felt the weight of the week lift, replaced by the promise of something beautiful on the horizon. but just as the excitement began to settle in, you were pulled back to reality by the sound of your phone vibrating against the table, a harsh reminder of the world outside this blissful bubble.

you glanced at the screen, and the moment slipped slightly, the glow of notifications flickering like an unwelcome reminder. it was a message from a friend, checking in about the weekend plans.

“sorry, i should probably—” you started, but riki gently took your hand, grounding you again.

“hey,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “you can always reply later. right now, let’s focus on us.”

you looked back at him, the connection reigniting. the moment stretched out like an unbroken thread between you, the world beyond the walls of this room fading once more into insignificance. you nodded, your heart soaring as you settled back into the warmth of his gaze, the future bright and inviting.

“so, friday it is?” you confirmed, your voice steady and full of excitement.

“definitely,” riki replied, a grin breaking across his face, as if he had just won a victory.

and just like that, the evening unfolded around you, a delicate balance of playful teasing and soft confessions, a new chapter beginning to write itself in the quiet spaces between your laughter.

[giamee]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍!

... aka something super self indulgent because i'm going insane right now

༊*·˚ featuring ➻ the hsr men

༊*·˚ gia's notes ➻ this is probably gonna get posted way after exam season is over but here it is!!! my coping mechanism!!! i have 3 exams in 8 days im gonna explode bro. and before that i had a THREE HOUR STATISTICS EXAM 😀😀

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 MAKES SURE THAT YOU SLEEP COMFORTABLY.

you've been running yourself into the ground recently with revision- yes, it's important and you need to study to get good grades, as he is more than aware of due to your multiple stressed rants to him when he suggests that you take a break.

it doesn't bother him, not really. he knows that you're beyond stressed right now and don't mean to be so snappy. he just wants to make sure that you're still taking care of yourself despite everything.

he's in your dorm room, not really making much noise, scrolling through reals with his phone on mute, just present to keep an eye on you and get you to take a break whenever it's been a little too long since you've moved from your desk.

it's some time where it's debatable whether it's very late or very early- both of your sleep schedules are fucked- and there comes a little thunk from your desk that interrupts the otherwise silent room.

your boyfriend glances up, smiling in triumph as he sees that you've finally succumbed to the nap that he's been trying to convince you to take for the past... 36 hours? something like that.

and now that your body has finally given in to exhaustion, he springs to action.

you'd been studying for days, you'd done more than enough for your upcoming exam, and a solid few hours of uninterrupted sleep is exactly what you need right now.

he slips off of your bed, his movements quiet and calculated as he sidles up next to you. your glasses are smushed against your face, and he gingerly removes them as gracefully as he can. you stir a little as he does so, and he grimaces, waiting for you to settle again.

it looked like you would wake up if he carried you to your bed- looks like he'll have to improvise.

he snags the fuzzy blanket folded neatly at the foot of your bed, wrapping it around your sleeping form still sat at your desk as best as he can. he then takes one of your smaller pillows, coaxing it between you and the solid wood of your desk as best as he can before admiring his handiwork.

hopefully, you wouldn't wake up with a stiff neck.

and finally, as a cherry on top, he places a kiss to your squished cheek and sits back down to let you take a well-deserved nap.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ BLADE, gallagher, BOOTHILL ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 IS YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANT WHILE YOU'RE STRESSING.

you don't have to lift a single finger when he's around. luckily for you, his exams finished a lot earlier this term than yours did, leaving him ample time to help you as much as he is capable of.

and what an attentive boyfriend he is! amidst all the stress, you can't help but swoon for him all over again because of how attentive he's being towards you. he just wants you to help you study and not worry about anything else!

if you're hungry, he'll have a plate of food ready for you before the request has even left your mouth. your back or neck is aching due to being hunched over? his strong hands are rubbing circles into the muscle, making you sigh contentedly as the stiffness melts away.

he's honestly like an angel in your time of need.

you feel guilty about how one-sided this all is, but he merely smiles, giving you a quick kiss and assuring you that he understands and just wants you to do well. you almost cried because of how sweet he was being.

once these exams are over, you're definitely going to make it up to him.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ GEPARD, jing yuan, sunday ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ACTS AS YOUR TEMPORARY STUDY PARTNER.

despite not doing your degree, he's clever, and he knows enough without googling to help you out when you revise.

he's an advocate for the "teach someone about a subject until they understand it as well as you do" and luckily for you, he's all ears... and even if he does get some things a little quicker than your fried brain can explain, he still bites his tongue and plays a little dumb to probe you further with questions to test your understanding.

it'll help in the exam.

you've decided that this is way better than being cramped in a booth in the library- you have the freedom to wave your arms around and pace the room, to fully illustrate your thoughts and knowledge as he flips through the colourful flashcards that you made, reading the answers on the back of each of them, grilling you on the questions like a tiger mum.

he'll be damned if you don't get an A.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ dan heng, DR RATIO, welt ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DEFUSES YOU WHENEVER YOU'RE GETTING TOO STRESSED.

in the days leading up to your exams, it was best to describe your stomach as a pit of nerves. it was honestly distracting you from revising, all the pent up anxiety that churned within you until you were on the verge of a meltdown.

and while you may be too stressed to realise all of this and do something about it, your boyfriend's watchful eye realises this.

and so he does what he does best- he makes you feel better.

he pulls your body to rest against his where he lies in your bed, his large hand drawing comforting circles up and down your spine- and after a few minutes he can feel you melt into him, your body finally releasing the pent up stress that it's been holding for too long.

"it's ok to take a break, honey."

you sigh into him, and he hugs you tighter.

"c'mon, let's go outside for a few minutes. it'll help you feel a lot better."

you shake your head.

"you wanna just stay here for a bit?"

he feels you nod against his chest.

"ok, then let's do that."

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ SAMPO, luocha, AVENTURINE ++ your faves!

IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?

the sweet and caring nature of the hsr men is also shown through them being your roommate <3

[musings-ofthe-unamused]

Rotting Sunflowers (Genshin Impact)

Pairing: Capitano x F!Reader

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of rotting, suggestive

A/N: He's here!! This is the SFW version <3 If you'd like the NSFW one (f!reader, m!reader, and nb!reader versions available), head on over to my AO3

Request Status: Open

Capitano had been by your side since you became emperor. He was a gift from your parents' for your coronation before they retired to the countryside manor. One of the strongest knights in the nation, he used to be stationed up north before moving to the capital. He was now the Head Knight and your personal bodyguard.

You didn't know what you would do without him. He was strong, resilient, kind, and a welcome ally amongst traitors that had weaseled their way into your court. There wasn't a day that went by where you didn't seek out his wisdom. He had become your rock. But as a rock, he never cracked around you. He never showed his face and never talked about his past. He was focused solely on the present and the future.

"Master, you have been lounging an awful lot these days." Capitano said, leaning over you. "Are you alright?"

You hummed and opened your eyes. "Am I not allowed to rest?"

"I suppose not. But you must not neglect your duties, Master." 

"Do I have to go to the meeting?"

"You skipped the last three."

You were currently laying down on the couch in the reading room. You had been spending time here often, wanting to get away from the sudden onslaught of meetings and revisions of petty laws. Capitano was at your side, like usual. He peered down at you. You couldn't see through his dark mask, making you frown.

"Capitano…"

"Yes?"

"I want to see your face."

He let out a sigh. "My Empress, I cannot. I told you, it is not suitable for royalty to see."

You pouted and crossed your arms. "You follow every command except that one… Typical."

"Please, just accept my reasoning."

"Fine."

You huffed and sat up. You had been dallying for too long. You knew that you needed to get up and actually do some work. The council said there would be a ball tomorrow. They had been working on it for over three months. You had decided to take a step back. You were never one for balls and all the socializing that came with it. Everyone was always trying to get in your good graces to stab your back later. You would never allow that to happen.

Capitano stayed close to your side. He was tall, intimidating, and was one of the reasons people rarely tried anything physical against you. You wanted nothing more than to reach out and take his hand. He may have been your knight, but you yearned for more. Not only would he make an amazing emperor, but a great husband as well. You wanted him and only him.

"The Empress has arrived." Capitano announced as he opened the door to the meeting room.

You walked in with your head held high. "Good afternoon, everyone."

Less than enthusiastic greetings graced your ears as you sat at the head of the table. You sat down and leaned back in your seat. Your eyes scanned over each member of your court. It wasn't really your court. Your parents may have crowned you as the ruler of this country, but they still pulled the strings through the court. It wasn't ideal, but there wasn't much you could do about it either. It would take ages to replace all of them.

"Good afternoon, your majesty." The man to your left, Ivan, cleared his throat. "We have updates to give you."

"Good." You hummed. Capitano stood closely behind you. You sighed softly at his comforting presence. "Update me on the working trade agreements first."

Ivan shuffled the papers in his hands. "Most of the regions have agreed to the new terms."

"Most?" You reached your hand out for the papers. 

He handed them to you. You started to shuffle through. The worst thing about being the new ruler of this nation is that no one expected you to rule. Despite all the classes, the training, studying anything and everything you could, no one believed in you. The first thing you did after your coronation was go over every single policy and agreement with other regions. You never thought your parents fully took advantage of the region's resources. And you wanted to fix that.

You raised an eyebrow as you saw which region hadn't agreed yet. "Natlan? I thought we had good rapport with them."

"We do." Ivan said. His tone was almost… nervous. "They will agree after tomorrow."

You looked over at him. "Do they want to talk about the agreement at the ball?"

He didn't answer. You frowned. Something was wrong. You looked over to the rest of the court. They were all avoiding eye contact. Capitano must have sensed something as well. He moved from behind your chair to next to you. You crossed your arms.

"What are you hiding?"

"Tomorrow isn't a ball. It's a wedding."

"What?"

"Your wedding."

Your eyes widened in surprise. Your wedding? You had absolutely no interest in getting married unless it was to one person and one person only. Your heart thudded in your chest. No one else spoke up. This ball they were planning for three months was actually a wedding. You tensed up and slammed the papers down on the table. Everyone flinched.

"You planned my wedding behind my back?!"

Ivan quickly raised his hands in a placating manner. "We had to, Empress! You would have never agreed otherwise!"

"Of course I wouldn't have!" You hissed. "Who even is it?!"

"Prince Ororon of Natlan. He won't ascend the throne, so we thought it best if he married you."

You could feel your face turn red in anger. "You thought best and didn't even ask me!?"

Another court member spoke up. "Your majesty, it's stated within the laws that the ruler of our great nation must be wed. It's been two years since your coronation. We cannot wait any longer."

You silently cursed to yourself. That damned law was one of the many traditions you couldn't change. You thought you could distract them, but your time had run out. If you were to deny this, you'd either be cast out or beheaded. Neither of which seemed like a good alternative.

You felt Capitano's hand on your shoulder. That just made everything even worse. How could you marry someone when the man you loved was right there? You gritted your teeth and squeezed your fists together. You wanted nothing more than to tell everyone to shove this marriage up their asses.

"Your Majesty…" Ivan cleared his throat. "You must marry."

A glare appeared on your face. "I know I must! It doesn't mean I'll be happy with it."

"Please stay calm." Capitano murmured softly. 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "Someone just tell me the details of tomorrow."

The rest of the afternoon was spent going over wedding details. You felt like your head would explode. And yet, through it all, Capitano stayed by your side. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pure heartbreak. You wanted to run away with him. But you couldn't abandon your people. Not after all the hard work you had done. 

You paced in your room anxiously. Capitano watched you as he stood by the wall. The wedding was planned down to the very minute detail. You wouldn't even meet Prince Ororon until you were walking down the aisle. A frustrated groan left your lips as you continued pacing.

"Master, please do not be angry."

You shot a glare at Capitano. "I have every right to be."

"You cannot let them do this to you. You are not being married off. Someone is marrying you. You will still have just as much power."

"That power means nothing if I am forced to marry someone I do not love."

Capitano shook his head softly. "We must all do things we do not want to do."

You rolled your eyes and stopped in front of him. "Not helping."

"I will still be here, Master."

That's right. Capitano has to watch you marry a complete stranger when he was the one you should be marrying. You realized all your time had run out. You turned to him fully and walked up to him. He straightened his broad shoulders. He gazed down at you through his mask. That stupid mask…

"Take it off." You said. Your voice was soft yet firm.

"I told you, Master. You do not want to see my face."

“Please…” You murmured, you reached out and placed your hand on his chest. “I want to do this. Before it’s too late.”

Capitano sighed but it broke him down. How could he not when you were to be wed tomorrow? You were already devastated by the marriage. This would change nothing. So he leaned back against the wall and slowly took off his helmet. His face was scarred with what looked a black rot. Blue lightning shaped streaks shot diagonally down his face. 

You reached out and gently cupped his cheek. “So handsome.”

“Master, you flatter me. But I know how I truly look.”

“Handsome.” You repeated sternly. 

"This is a face marred by a curse that I must bear."

"What happened?"

His eyebrows furrowed as if painful memories flooded his mind. "There was a war. Long… long ago. I live with the consequences of that war. And now I'm the decayed and disfigured man you see before me. I am but a husk of who I was before."

Your heart broke at his words. You couldn't accept that he thought of himself like that. You didn't say anything and only gazed up at him. He shook his head and raised his hand to cover yours. You couldn’t help yourself. You have waited long enough. You didn’t want to stop at seeing his face, no matter what he said. With a soft sigh of longing, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his.

Capitano didn’t know what to do. He lifted his hands up and away from your body. You kept kissing him, savoring the feel of his lips. His hands were frozen in midair as if he didn’t want to touch you. After a long moment, you pulled back and stared into his deep blue eyes. He stared back. 

“I love you, Capitano.”

His eyes widened. “You can’t say that, Master!”

"I can." You whispered. You leaned in and kissed his scarred neck. "I need to. Please… Please say it back."

Capitano didn't answer for a moment. A wave of anxiety washed over you. What if he didn't feel the same? What if this whole time you pined over him, he never developed feelings for you? Just the thought of that squeezed at your heart. But it didn't last long. Capitano cupped the back of your head and pulled you closer. He leaned down and kissed you passionately.

Nothing else mattered at that moment. You pushed the wedding out of your mind. You focused only on Capitano. Your head tilted to the side as you deepened this kiss. His lips were rough yet loving at the same time. Your arms wrapped around him as he pushed back against you. Heat slowly filled your body. You wanted him. You need him.

Capitano pulled back, making you whine at the sensation. He stared down at you. "I love you."

Those were the only words you ever needed to hear. Your eyes welled with tears as you pulled him down again. Tonight, you would only focus on him. He would take over your world. You would live out your dreams of being his and only his. Just one more moment of happiness before your life was ripped away from you.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You looked at yourself in the mirror. The white dress sparkled in the morning light. It fit like a glove. It was absolutely perfect. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to smile. Your hand shakily smoothed out the fabric of your dress. Memories of last night wouldn't leave your mind. It was all you could think of.

"Master. It's time."

You turned around. Capitano was in his ceremonial wear. His face was once again hidden by his mask. And yet, you could still see his face. You nodded slowly. You wanted to pretend that you were marrying him. Not a stranger. But real life wasn't as kind. Your shoulder straightened and you walked to the double doors. Behind those doors was the start of the rest of your life.

"Are you ready?" Capitano asked softly.

"I have to be."

"Master…"

You couldn't bear hearing anything else from him. "Please, open the doors."

He hesitated but did as you said. The doors opened, revealing the decorated room filled with people to witness a new age. Your eyes focused down the aisle. There stood Prince Ororon. He was tall, pale, with dark blue hair. His eyes met yours. You steeled yourself. This was it. With one final breath, you walked away from Capitano and towards your new husband.

[muniimyg]

NAKED // KNJ

note to self: take baths alone from now on

+

in which nam joon takes any and every opportunity to see you naked

pairing: boyfriend nam joon + oc 

au/genre:

(new) established relationship

non-idol au

fluff, crack, and smut

warnings:

explicit langauge and behaviour ...

cockwarming & riding,, some titty grabbing & basic ass position changes

THEY SAY ILY FOR THE FIRST TIME :D

note: originally posted on @/meowachi ,, revised !!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns

The water is colder than you expected. 

Your body reacts with goosebumps to which you let out a shiver. Maybe you took too much time getting everything ready that you missed this bath water’s prime temperature… Guess you didn’t girl-math this right. 

Oh well. 

There’s always next time, right?

Thankfully, his bare body holding yours makes it easier to adjust. He nuzzles his chin on your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist, not missing the chance to hold your breasts for a moment. You scold him as if it’s second nature and he leaves a trail of kisses up and down your neck as an apology. 

Then, you take this moment in. Honestly, setting up music was a good idea. Along with the scented candles, the bubbles in your bath, the bath lavender bath bomb, and the bath salts—all such amazing details. Everything would’ve been perfect if only Nam Joon wasn’t complaining every five seconds. 

“I hate baths.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“The bath salts went up my ass—”

Finally, you shush him.

“Please,” he cries, “can we fuck?”

Rolling your eyes, you raise your hand and flick him with your fingers. He purses his lips and shuts his eyes in response. Nam Joon sighs, feeling defeated for the nth time tonight. Prior to this bath, he had suggested shower sex. To which, you argued you’d be too afraid to try since you’re as clumsy as they come… And he himself… Well, it was nice of him to ask.

It’s not like you didn’t want to have sex tonight… No, of course, you do. Your handsome and beefy boyfriend was naked, holding you.. Who wouldn’t be turned on? You just feel like being annoying. You want to push him as far as you can. You want to see how good he stays. How well self-disciplined he is. 

So, you sink into his body again, taking another deep breath in. 

Let’s try this again.

Relax.

You want to relax. 

That’s all you want to do.

It doesn’t last. A few giggles escape your lips as he begins to place small kisses on your shoulder all the way to the sides of your face. 

“Nam Joon…” you attempt to sound annoyed.

In his low voice, he hums; “Yes, my love?”

“You’re not making me feel relaxed!” Suddenly, you squirm as he bites your shoulder playfully. “I want to—stop that! I just want to relax, Joonie! You said you wanted to join me. You insisted.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he murmurs, only half meaning his apology. No, he wasn’t sorry. He was a man, after all. What idiot would turn down being naked in a tub of water with you? Fucking losers, that’s who. 

He squishes your body closer to him. “So... is this what you do?” 

You nod.

“Is this all that you do? This is so boring. You don’t even have those ducks to play with or like a toy boat that moves—”

“Nam Joon,” you warn, groaning at how talkative he’s becoming. “You can leave. I wouldn’t mind watching you ass walk away right now.” 

He laughs in response, getting the hint. You want to relax. He wants to be with you. This was the middle ground.

“Sorry,” he means it this time. “I’m just bored.. Like, I pictured this to be more… Sexy? Aren’t you supposed to seduce me?” Nam Joon wiggles his eyebrows at you. To that, you offer him and confused look.

“Who knows? Maybe I’ve been seducing you this entire time..” you gaslight.

He lowers his gaze. “You’ve been ignoring me since the minute we settled in the tub.”

“Aren’t you turned on?”

“No.”

You smile at him warmly, yet your tone is cold. “My love, if that’s the case… Then why do I feel your dick poking in between my legs right now?” 

He gulps.

“It’s hard.”

“I thought you said it’s boring.”

Nam Joon whines, “___, my dick is hard. I’m bored. Please sit on it.”

You gasp. 

Although, you can’t say you aren’t surprised. You’ve been together for less than a year yet he has never missed a chance to suggest such acts. Most days, you’d give in and it would be a good time. But today… You figure it would be much more fun to be a tease. This mood is sponsored by your incoming period. Regardless if it’s PMS or all your stress from work; it didn’t really matter. You just knew you weren't in the mood for super wet, slippery, hot sex in cold bath water. Imagine all the water that would be splashed on the floor! You’d be the one left to clean all of it up. Nam Joon would probably slip and hurt himself if you ordered him to do the cleaning duties.

“Okay,” you tease. “I’ll sit on your dick.”

He cheers. 

“But I won’t move.”

“W-what?” Nam Joon blinks. 

You shrug, pushing yourself up on his lap. When you find his length, you quickly guide it inside of you. No warning, not even a little rub in between. Nam Joon gulps the second he feels his cock inside of you. Unlike the water, you’re so warm. He hisses, feeling his dick begin to throb inside your tight walls. 

“M-mean,” he hisses. “You’re so mean.”

Ignoring him, you sink yourself even deeper. Now, he’s fully inside you and you’re completely sitting on him. You feel his tip and how far he is inside you.. It makes your body feel tingles and you honestly contemplate if you should just give in.

He feels so good. 

… And you hate to admit it but you overestimated yourself.

You’re having a hard time too. 

Yet, you stick it through. You have to! Rare are the moments you get where Nam Joon loses complete control.

“You asked me to sit on your dick. Sure, I’ll sit on your dick… But I’m not moving. I’m not going reverse cowgirl style. I’m not going doggy. I’m not fucking you.”

“So you’re just going to cockwarm me?” he asks, feeling betrayed. “But you love riding me!”

You glare at him. “No, I don’t. It’s tiring. It’s boring.” 

Nam Joon’s eyebrows furrow together. He tries his best to focus on your words and not how perfect you are inside of him. He’s stressed as fuck but he needs to prove to you that he can get through this… He has a feeling that winning you over will get him the reward he’s been after. 

“Then why do you do it?” 

This is news to him too. You always looked like you enjoyed riding him. Honestly, you probably ride him more than you two do in any other position. Also, why would he question it? You never really complained until now. It’s one of the things he liked so much about you.. It’s like, you just knew him. 

“You love it and I love you—”

Your eyes widen.

Did you really just say that? All this time, you were worried about slipping… Who knew it wasn’t about your body but rather your words? 

You two haven’t said it to each other yet. God, this is so fucking embarrassing. In this position too? In a fucking cold ass bath? It should’ve been more romantic! Plus, he should’ve said it first! You had it all planned out.. You were going to get it out of him before you could say it first. 

As you open your mouth to deny, take back, or spit out an excuse, his words make your world stop. 

“I love you too.”

Your breath hitches. “W-what?”

“Yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck. “I’ve been meaning to tell you.. For the past like… Six months but I couldn’t find the right moment. I figured one day, you’d just get it out of me yourself.” Nam Joon looks awfully shy to you right now. It makes your heart flutter. 

“I thought the same,” you confess. “I wanted you to say it first.”

“Okay,” Nam Joon chuckles, “Then I said it first.”

Your heart begins to pound louder and faster. God, was he always this good with words? In all honesty, Nam Joon has no problem being the first to yield or confess.. He just needed time. Right now, he knew it well. You’re the right person at the right time. He’s so grateful.

“I wanted it to be more romantic.”

Instantly, he dips his head and kisses you slowly. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. “A slow kiss. Romantic, right? Better?”

You shake your head. 

“You have to hold my hand when you say it,” you whine. “It only makes sense that way.”

“Then, you have to look at me,” he negotiates. “You can’t be looking the other way when I say it.”

“Fine.”

You shift, pulling his dick out for a second. You adjust yourself, opening your legs and facing him. Now, your breasts were completely in front of him. He takes slow deep breaths as you put him inside you again. You wrap your arms around his neck and tilt your head. 

God, you’re so sexy.

With or without clothes, Nam Joon thinks you’re the sexiest human to ever exist. It wasn’t because your body was perfect; it was all because of the way you carried your confidence. It was that exact something he sensed and fell into an intense trance over. Moments like these play over and over in his head when he’s away from you. Moments where he feels so close to you. Physically, this was it. There is nothing more he could ask for. 

You: naked and on top of him. 

But more than that, what makes moments like these so special is the fact that he feels like he knows your soul. Bare, imperfect and so loving. It was sexy to have someone like you. It was something he had never experienced before with past loves. This was a first for him. A first real, sexy, and beautiful love. It was more than your body—it always has been. Regardless, who is he to not try? At the end of the day, he has needs. 

“Say it.” 

He laughs as he intertwines your fingers together. He raises them above the water to show you. Bringing your hands to his lips, he looks up at you and kisses your knuckles. 

“I love you, ___.”

You pout. 

He kisses your wrist and then pulls you closer to him. He kisses your breast, your collarbone, your shoulder, your cheeks, and the corner of your lip. “I’ve loved you for a while now. I’m sorry it took a cold bath to get it out of me.”

“Should’ve taken a bath together sooner.”

He laughs into your kiss. “Too bad the bath salts aren’t making me feel too sexy right now,” he confesses his uncomfortability. This is his last attempt. “Unless…”

“Spit it out,” you say, unamused.

“It’s just—”

“We’re not fucking in this bath of cold water, Joon. Give it up!” you laugh as you cup his cheeks together. You squish his lips with your thumb and index, making kissy faces at him. “No more fucking around.”

His suggestive eyes suddenly soften. “Fucking? ___, I wanted to make love… Since, you know.. I love you.”

Three times.

He said, “I love you,” three times now.

And perhaps, you’re not built for this hard-to-get lifestyle when the love of your life says such dreamy things. Of course, you’d give in. As they all say; the third time’s a charm. 

You burst into laughter, unable to hold yourself back. Desperately, you kiss him for what feels like forever, and as much as you resist; you end up riding him. 

The second you move yourself up and down, Nam Joon’s eyes widen and he smiles into the kiss. He can’t believe he won you over. 

“Fucking finally… Or should I say… Finally fucking?” Nam Joon chides, liking his word play more than he should.

Nerd alert.

You grunt, “s-shut up.” 

As you two continue to make out, you begin to move your hips as you slowly but surely begin to bounce on his hard cock. It feels so good to finally do this. As you move at a faster pace, the water begins to splash and for a second, you turn your head to make sure it isn’t going to flood the floor. But Nam Joon places his hand on your chin and the top of your neck, guiding you to look at him. 

“Don’t look away,” he hisses. “It’s just water. Focus on me.”

You nod, biting the inside of your cheeks. 

For stability, you place your hands on his chest. You feel his heart and how fast it’s racing. His skin has little goosebumps due to the cold water, but you can also see sweat from his forehead lightly layer on top of his perfect skin. His eyebrows are knitted together, as he gathers all his mental strength not to cum yet. At one point, you see his lips make an ‘o’. Why was he trying so hard to last? 

“Just cum,” you assure him. “It’s fine.”

He shakes his head, refusing to give in this early. “It’s your fucking boobs,” Nam Joon blames. “Mmhff—s-shit. What the hell. Fuck it.” 

Without warning, he places his hands on your waist and lifts you up. Nam Joon gently, yet firmly, turns you over. Your chin rests just over the rim of the tub, along with your arms. Your back is arched as he backs your ass up to his dick. He takes his fingers and plays with your clit for a bit. You moan, unable to fathom just how fucking sexy this all is. You feel yourself coming close. Before you know it, he sticks himself back in and begins to pump. Nam Joon pumps himself at a steady pace. At first, they were short and fast strokes that made the water spill over and you moan louder than usual. As you reach your peak and so does he; his strokes transition to long and deep ones. 

After a few more pumps, he lets himself go and cups your breasts with his hands. You don’t feel his cum inside of you as your walls still tingle, but you know it’s inside. Regardless of the water, you just know he creamed you messy as usual. 

As you two catch your breath, he kisses your neck once again. 

“For round two…” Nam Joon teases, “I’m thinking shower sex. Thoughts?”

“Haha,” you play along. “No.”

Nam Joon pouts, giving you puppy eyes. “... But I love you.” 

You can’t help but melt.

Oh, you’re so fucked.

You know for a fact he’ll be using this line for a while… And it’ll work. He’ll get you every time. But it’s okay! You love him too. You want him too. You need him too.

Besides, you’ll be charging him the water bill.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒

Aki Hayakawa

Pairing: Aki Hayakawa x f!Reader

Summary: The man who revises your paper is straight out of your sex dream. You'll let him do almost anything for him- Except smoke inside your room when he so desperately needs it. But he finds an alternative for his cigarette. And afterwards he can't stop thinking about you.

Warnings: MDNI, Alternate Universe, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (m. and f. receiving), Spitting, Public Sex, Creampie, Aki has tattoos and is hot (as always)

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Okay… The essay is good, it just needs a few changes.” Aki says, leaning down as he reads the paper in his hand. He’s focused on helping you, and you’re focused on him. Arms and neck filled with tattoos. Both ears pierced. Hair up in a knot. You’ve never seen him around, if you had, you would’ve remembered. And now you’re wondering how you’ve never seen him before. You’re too focused on his face and not at the fact that he’s pointing at the pen in your hand. You’re brought back to reality when he clears his throat, “May I?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry.” You awkwardly chuckle, giving him your pen. He begins to circle and underline the areas that you need to work on, and you feel your cheeks get warm. You’re embarrassed but you don’t know if it’s because he caught you staring mindlessly at him, or the fact that your paper has so many mistakes.

Your roommate, Himeno, suggested that you go to the library so they could check your paper. You find yourself understanding the content, but when it comes to writing an essay in any class, you always get a mediocre grade. Himeno said that one of her friends is helping out, you never asked who it was, and you obviously didn’t bother looking for them. You saw Aki available and went up to him immediately. He luckily could help with the subject you needed help in.

“You have all the right ideas, they’re just disorganized.” He adds, which you don’t know if it makes you feel better or worse about yourself. You know the material, you just don’t know how to properly word it. He takes a seat beside you, all his attention on the paper. Your eyes shift from his focused face to the paper in his hands. He’s nitpicking any minor mistake in your writing. It almost hurts your feelings, even though you know he’s trying to help you.

You came here because you needed help, and he’s giving it to you. Although your mind wanders off, as you watch him move his lips. He’s explaining what you need to fix so your paper receives an adequate grade, yet your brain doesn’t comprehend anything. You’re nodding, acting as if you’re understanding a word he says. Your eyes are staring at the peek of the dragon tattoo that he has on his neck, and you notice that it starts on his arm. Although he has many other tattoos on his arms

“Do you understand?” He asks, which brings you back to reality. You try to smile, trying to hide the fact that you don’t understand and that you were zoning out because he is, in fact, fucking hot.

“I do, thank you, Hayakawa.” You end up responding. He gives you your paper back, and you stuff it back in your bag before standing up.

When you’re back in your apartment, you lock yourself in your room to finish up homework for other classes. You’re thinking of the man that helped you with the best of his ability, while fixing up the essay. You type away on your computer, making the near perfect essay. You come to a stop on the third paragraph to look back at the paper and reread the suggestion he made. 

His handwriting looks neat yet sloppy at the same time, and the way certain letters are written makes you chuckle because who writes them like that? You like his handwriting though. Way better than the majority of guys. 

You focus back on your computer to type out the rest of your essay, but instead of typing more, you open a new tab. And instead of searching up resources to help with your writing, you type in Aki Hayakawa and look to find any social media he has. You find his Instagram and click on it, only to find out it’s private. You squint your eyes to look at the profile picture, but his face is covered by a camera. He seems to be into photography, at least that’s what you can tell from the picture.

He probably has an alternate account for his photos, but you’re really not in the mood to look at pictures of flowers or random insects/animals that you can find in your backyard. You go back to the previous page and also find a Twitter account. A smirk comes onto your lips as you think at what you can possibly find on that page. 

You click on his Twitter and immediately go to the media. You don’t really care too much to read about his thoughts; you don’t want to lose interest because of one unfunny tweet. You grin when you find his face in many pictures, as well as some other photographs that you don’t really care about too much. You come across one particular picture that makes you stop scrolling completely. 

It’s him and your roommate. Himeno’s arms wrapped around him as she smiles at the camera. Aki smiles as well, not as bright as Himeno though. You realize that Aki is the friend that Himeno was telling you about. You sigh as you click out of the picture. You remember her saying,

“He’s so hot, God, I’d do almost anything to be with him.”

You close the tab and go back to your essay, and when you're completely concentrated on the task in front of you, there’s a knock on your door. You puff out a breath before you stand up from your chair and walk to your door. You open the door to find your roommate with a bright smile on her face, a beer in her hand.

“My friend is coming over, come join us.” She suggests. You’re about to shake your head since you don’t have too much time to finish your essay but then it hits you, 

“Is this your same friend that tutors?” You ask, and she hums in response. She doesn’t know that you know him since you never asked for his name. Before she could tell you anything about him, you left. 

“I promise he’s fun! Well… After a couple of drinks. He acts mature and all that but he loosens up.” She tells you. You don’t understand why she’s insistent, but you end up nodding slowly.

“Alright, I’ll join you.” You answer.

“Yay! He’ll be here in a few minutes. Let me get changed.” She responds before walking away, and you decide to do the same. But you decide you’ll wear something different. Maybe something that shows a bit more skin, but not too much. You don’t want Himeno to notice and come to the conclusion you’re trying to impress her friend. You are, but you don’t want her to notice.

Right when you finish changing, there’s a knock on the front door. You walk out of the room and go to the front door, since Himeno is apparently still changing. You open the door, and just as you expected, there’s Aki.

“Oh, hey.” He greets you and says your name. He raises a brow before asking, “Is Himeno your roommate?”

“Yeah. She’s in her room, she’ll come out soon enough.” You inform him and he nods in response. You move out of the way so he can enter the apartment, and when he does, he walks to the couch. He takes a seat and makes himself comfortable. “Would you like a beer?”

“It’s fine. I can get it.” Aki answers and you go to the couch to sit down as well. You put some distance between the two of you so you don’t make him uncomfortable. This awkward silence fills up the room until Himeno walks back and joins you. 

She changed. She changed from a black tank top and sweatpants to a tight white tank top and shorts. You really aren’t surprised. She smiles at Aki, greeting him with a melodious, “Hey~”

You can tell she’s had one too many beers already. She seemed fine when she knocked on your door, but you obviously misjudged her. She takes a seat between the two of you, closer to Aki. Way closer. So much so that she’s almost invading his personal space. Aki isn’t sure what to do with his personal space being invaded, so he tries to scoot away, but he can’t since he’s at the end of the couch.

“Don’t you want to start watching that movie?” Aki asks, hoping that it’ll make Himeno stand up, and give him the chance to reclaim the room that was taken from him. When you hear the word “movie” one thing comes to mind, and it’s nothing pure. You’re not even sure if Himeno meant to invite you– Unless Aki was the one who suggested that they’d watch a “movie”.

“Why don’t you go grab a drink first?” Himeno suggests, the alcohol in her breath blowing into Aki’s face. Her arms wrap around him, and he’s trying his best to distance himself. This is why he tries not to come around at night. She has one too many drinks and gets touchy.

“I actually have to finish some assignments.” You say, standing up from the couch and beginning to walk to your room. You hear a groan from Himeno, but she doesn’t say anything to stop you. Now that Aki is here, she’s changed her mind about having you join them, so she isn’t exactly too mad about the fact that you’ll choose to lock yourself up in your room.

“Uh… Actually, I think I should go with her. I explained everything to her but she seemed to be needing some more help.” Aki tells Himeno, making her let go. He’s clearly uncomfortable, but he doesn’t have the courage to voice it. It makes the woman pout and cross her arms, and Aki says, “Go drink some water and look for a movie you want to watch. I’ll make it quick.”

He follows you to your room, uninvited, and neither of you know what to say when he closes the door behind you. You take a seat at your desk and decide to focus on your homework while he waits it out.

“Sorry…” He begins, and you hum in response. You don’t care all that much about it. He stands around awkwardly, not wanting to take a seat on your bed without asking. “I didn’t expect her to be already tipsy, and she tends to be touchy.”

“Oh yeah, I get that.” You respond. “You can sit down.”

“Okay…” He responds, but instead of actually taking a seat, he walks over to you to check what’s on your computer. He finds the paper that he revised on your desk as well, so he knows you’re still working on the paper he helped you with at the library. “Do you need me to revise that again?”

“I think it’s fine.” You answer. You don’t have all that much energy left to check the paper another time and make more revisions before turning it in. You end up turning off your laptop, deciding to take advantage of the moment. You might never have him in your room again, so you might as well talk to him. “When are you going back?”

“In a few minutes. When she’s had some water and time to be more level-headed.” He replies. He takes a seat on your bed and pulls out his phone. “If not, I’ll just leave.”

“I definitely don’t think that she’ll grab water like you suggested.” You tell him as you stand up and sit down on the bed. He still wants to wait a couple minutes before deciding to leave. “How did you two meet, anyway?”

“Hmm… I think it was around campus or something. She came up to me and we hit it off.” Aki recalls, although he can’t remember it all too well. “She’s three years older than me– I think.”

“Yeah… She’s taken a while to get her degree. But hopefully next year she’ll make it!” You share, and he nods in response. You aren’t sure what you two can talk about other than Himeno, until you look at his arms, “You have a lot of tattoos. That’s cool.”

“You think so?” He responds, and you nod in response. “Himeno was actually the one who pushed me to get a tattoo. It was a small one on my thigh but then I just couldn’t stop getting more and more.”

“I’ve been thinking of getting one myself, which one was the least painful for you?” You ask, and he takes a moment to think about it. He has so many… 

“Forearm is not so bad, also outer thigh is okay.” He informs you. “Neck was very painful, don’t do that. “Butt is okay. At least from what I’ve heard.”

“From what you heard?” You chuckle, and he ends up laughing as well. “Are you sure you don’t have a tattoo on your butt?”

“Maybe once upon a time I went out to drink with Himeno and we got too drunk…” He explains. You begin to wonder for how long exactly they’ve known each other. He shares a couple more things with you– How his ears piercings was also something Himeno forced him to do, that he’s lucky she didn’t force him to pierce his nose and also get a lip ring. They’ve known each other for around four years. Aki is graduating this term, and works part time as a barista. He tells you so much about himself. 

There’s a knock on the door, interrupting the conversation that you and Aki withhold. Himeno’s speech is slightly slurred as she says, “Aki, how much time– Do you have left? Is her paper not ready?”

“Oh she’s definitely opened a few more cans of beer.” You comment, and Aki hums, a bit disappointed. 

“I need a fucking cigarette.” He rolls his eyes. “What options do I have?”

“Sneak out the window– Which I don’t recommend since this is a second floor. Or wait till she passes out and leave. Unless you want to make up an emergency.” You tell him and he subconsciously begins to bounce his leg, looking around the place to decide what he wants to do.

“Can I smoke in here?” He asks and you shake your head. As much as you’d want to let him do anything he wants, the last thing you need is your bedroom smelling like cigarettes. You’ve forced Himeno to smoke outside, even when it’s pouring out

“Sorry, I don’t really want my bedroom to stink.”

“What? Do I stink?” He questions. He’s never associated his addiction with a horrible smell. Sure, smoking outside is the formality so not everyone is clouded with the smoke. Maybe it has a strong smell– Well, it definitely reeks but he fucking needs to smoke.

“You don’t stink, but if you pull out a cigarette in my room then you will. And I will too.” You explain and he still sighs. He lays his back on the bed and stares at the ceiling for a second. 

“Will you suck me off?” He asks out of nowhere, and you feel the heat going to your cheeks as he says that. “I need something that’ll distract me from smoking, and that’ll certainly do the trick.”

“You know, Himeno would be willing to give you a hand if you asked.” You say, your hand going to his belt. Does he need a cigarette so badly or does he just want a blowjob? You don’t care to ask as your lips go down to peck his lips. When you pull away, he says, 

“I don’t want Himeno.” He responds. “She’s a nice friend but that’s all she’ll be.”

“Hmm…? Didn’t we just meet? You’re already talking about us being more than friends?” You begin as you unbutton his pants and pull them down. Your hand goes into his boxers and begin to feel his length, which is certainly impressive. Although you aren’t too surprised. “Will this actually help you?”

“I suggested it for a reason.” He responds, and you pull down his boxers. You run your thumb over his tip, spreading the pre-cum on his cock. You lower your head, your tongue circling around his tip. You met a couple hours ago, and here you are, starting a blowjob. This wouldn’t be your first one night stand though. You’ve fucked guys that you’ve known for a shorter time.

You lower your head completely, wrapping your mouth completely around his cock. You take in as much as you can, and you can hear him softly moan as you bob your head. Your hands stroke the parts of his cock that can’t fit in your mouth, while your other hand cups his balls.

“Fuck– That’s good.” He can’t help but moan as he feels your mouth wrapped around his dick. Maybe he was thinking of a similar scene in the library while looking over your paper. And now he feels your tongue gliding on his shaft. 

You take his cock out of your mouth, your hand stroking his cock while your mouth goes down to suck on his balls. He shuts his eyes and bites his bottom lip as he feels your mouth. God, he has to remember that Himeno is right outside so he can’t let her hear what’s going on inside your room. That he isn’t in fact helping you with your assignment. 

Your tongue licks from the base of his cock back to the tip. Your mouth wraps around his cock again, doing the same thing as before. While it feels great for Aki, he still says, “Baby, can you take it all in your mouth? It’ll be so good”

The pet name “baby” makes your panties wet. All the heat immediately goes to your cunt, but you focus on Aki and making him come. Using your mouth for his pleasure. 

You feel his hand on the back of your head, and he begins to push your head down on his cock. You begin to gag on his cock, and the sound is better than any melody for him. And the best part of all is that it feels so good for him. Even better than before. He could come at any moment.

Too engrossed in what you’re doing, any noise from outside is canceled out by Aki’s moans and your gagging. Until the door strikes open, and a drunk Himeno walks into the room, looking for Aki. You raise your head, taking his cock out of your mouth. You’re wide-eyed while the man can’t help but be annoyed by the fact that he was so close to finishing, and he was interrupted.

Himeno is trying to process the scene in front of her, asking, “What’s going on here?”

“A- Aki needed a cigarette.” You stutter.

“She won’t remember any of this in the morning. There’s no need for an explanation.” Aki assures you. He pulls his boxers back up and begins to fix himself. “I have to go. I’m gonna smoke a cigarette.”

Just as Aki said, Himeno remembered nothing the next morning. Yet, you decided that you’ll keep your distance because Himeno clearly likes him, and getting with him is sort of a betrayal to her. It’s easy to avoid him, mainly because you’ve never bumped into him before. You avoid the library, and he doesn’t come over to hang out with Himeno often.

Nearly a month after everything, you find yourself back in the library, ready to check another paper. The paper Aki checked got a near perfect score, and while you’re trying to avoid him, you value your grades more than anything. Your eyes meet when you step into the place.

You’ll look for someone else because you doubt either of you will feel too comfortable around each other, especially after a month of not talking. Or maybe that’s just you because Aki begins to walk towards you.

“Hey.” He says when he’s in front of you. You smile at him, avoiding eye contact. “Do you need help on another paper?”

“Uh… Yeah.” You nod, looking around to find another person that’s not Aki, to check the paper you need help with.

“I can check it for you.” He states, noticing that you’re looking for someone else. He left someone on their own to come up to you. He hopes at the very least you’ll take his help so he doesn’t look like a jerk.

“Sure… But aren’t you busy?” You question and he shakes his head. You noticed he was with someone else, but he decided to walk up to you. “I don’t want to–”

“It’s fine, they were just leaving.” He responds, and you end up sighing. He furrows his brows at your reaction and just when he’s about to ask what’s wrong, you end up saying,

“You know Himeno likes you, so I think it’s best if we–” You begin but he cuts you off.

“I’m helping you with your essay, I’m sure Himeno won’t get mad with that.” Aki answers, and you end up sighing again. He’s not wrong, but the reason you don't want his help is because you aren’t sure if you’ll behave around each other. 

You end up going with him to take a seat. You pull out the paper and hand it to him so he can look it over. And he takes it as he takes a seat beside you. Unlike the first time, you don’t gawk at him. You stare elsewhere, somewhere that he isn’t in your vision.

You feel him pat your thigh, and the heat goes to your cheeks immediately. “Do you have a pen?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” You respond, reaching into your bag to pull out a pen. You give it to him, and once again stare off into space, until his hand goes back to your thigh. But this time he isn’t patting to ask you for something. He takes advantage of the fact that you’re wearing a skirt. 

He caresses your thigh, all while his focus is on the paper in front of him. You don’t understand how he suddenly got so comfortable with you to do this, but at the same time you really don’t care that much. Except when his hand goes to your clothed cunt and he rubs lazy circles on your panties. No one will notice or know, yet you’re still freaking out. But you won’t push his hand away either.

“Same mistakes as the first time.” He comments, pushing your panties to the side. Two fingers run through your folds as he circles and underlines what needs to be fixed. He mutters, “You’re so wet, and I haven’t done anything.”

“Huh?” You question, your face burning up, the same heat that’s in between your legs. Yet one is of embarrassment and the other of arousal. 

“I said, last time clearly didn’t do anything. You made very similar mistakes.” He begins to circle your clit. You didn’t really expect a stunt like this from him of all people. But then again, you don’t know him well. You’ve stalked his social media after giving him a blowjob, but that’s about it. 

You wait for him to push two fingers in, but at the same time you’re not desperate for it because his fingers’ speed against your clit is just right. He moves his fingers perfectly. You bite your bottom lip, preventing a whimper from leaving your lips.

“Does it feel good, gorgeous?” He asks, glancing at you before his eyes go back to the paper in front of him. “Wouldn’t it feel good if I slipped a finger in? You’d have to ask me in a pretty little voice.”

“Please.” You whisper. You’re scared of being too loud and being heard, although half the library is empty.

“Can you be a tad bit louder? I can’t make out what you’re saying.” He says, and you end up shaking your head. The library is so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, and you’re scared that if you raise your voice just a bit more, that people will turn to see. The place isn’t too crowded. Just a couple of people cramming in for exams.

His fingers press against your entrance, but he doesn’t slip a finger in. He fixes your panties and stands up, “I need a cig. Check over what I wrote. I’ll be back in a second.”

You watch as he walks away, and you stuff your paper back in your bag. You stand up and begin to walk to the shelves. You begin to look for a book that you’ve been researching for a term paper. Instead of asking the librarian for help, you go to the very back of the place, looking for the book. 

You waste around ten minutes, before you spot it. Your arm goes out to grab it, but before your hand gets to it, someone else grabs it. You notice the tattoos on his hand and immediately figure out who it is. You turn around to look at him, and he’s so close that you’re pushed against the shelves.

“I thought I told you to make revisions and here you are…” He sounds a bit annoyed as he says this. His lips go down and he pecks your lips before he kneels down in front of you. He lifts up your skirt, and you press your thighs together.

“Right here?” You ask, tilting to the side for a moment to see if you find anybody. When you don’t, you stop squeezing your thighs. He pushes your panties to the side, once again, and forces you to spread your legs.

“You should really be checking your paper…” He tells you before his tongue licks up your cunt. He really couldn’t care less about your paper. He can say he was upset when he stepped back into the library and you weren’t there, waiting for him. He was going to tease you a bit more. But now he’s glad that you decided to come here because you taste great on his tongue.

He spits on your cunt before his lips attach around your clit. You throw your head back, making a couple of books fall over. The sound would sure catch a couple of people’s attention, but they’re all too focused on their own thing to care. You put a hand over your mouth to muffle any sounds from escaping your lips. 

Books knocking over aren't alarming, the sound of moaning sure is.

He detaches himself from your clit and licks down your folds to the entrance of your cunt. He teases it before he inserts his tongue inside of you, which makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. He moves it in and out of your cunt while his fingers begin to play with your clit.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” You whisper, your hips bucking. He’s looking up at you, watching your face as you try to contain your pleasure. He really wishes he could hear it, but he sure picked the wrong place to do this. Either way you wouldn’t make a sound in your apartment either because of your roommate.

You shut your eyes, feeling your climax get closer and closer. He takes his tongue out of your cunt and begins to flick your clit. The sweetest “Aki” leaves your lips while your thighs begin to squeeze around him. He swears this is heaven, and you’re the sweetest angel.

You keep your thighs squeezed around him while your orgasm takes over you. You hear Aki humming, loving the way you taste around him. A moan escapes your lips, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you come.

Aki continues flicking your clit for a couple more seconds, watching the beautiful face that you make as you orgasm. When a sigh escapes your lips when you come down from your high, he kisses your clit and gets off the ground. He grabs the back of your head and pulls your face in for a kiss. His tongue enters your mouth, pressing against your own. His tongue glides over yours while your hands go to the bulge that’s in his pants.

When he pulls away, a string of saliva connects your lips. You stare into his lust-filled eyes, and you watch him bite down his bottom lip as you feel the bulge in his pants. His thumb pushes down your bottom lip before he orders, “Open your mouth.”

You do as he says and he spits in your mouth. You swallow as your hands unbutton his pants. Your hands go inside his boxers and you begin to stroke his length. He says, “You want me to fuck you here, baby?”

“Hmm…” You hum in response. You pull down his pants, “You already ate me out, we might as well go all the way.”

“You’re right. I’ve been daydreaming about your cunt wrapped around my dick.” He says, stroking his cock a couple of times before he runs the tip through your folds, getting his cock wet with your slick. “And the craziest thing is that this is the third time we meet.”

“It’s the effect I have on people.” You chuckle, before he slowly pushes his cock inside of you. You whimper, feeling as his thick cock stretches you out. You both shut your eyes, taking everything in. He’s even bigger when he’s inside of you, at least that’s how he feels.

“Your pussy feels so good.” He whispers. Your cunt feels just like he imagined– No, even better. So nice and tight. The night he needed a cigarette, he shouldn’t have asked for a blowjob, instead he should’ve straight up asked you to fuck him. He actually would’ve finished.

When he bottoms out, he waits a moment, letting you adjust to his size. He begins to move slowly, looking at your face as you try your best to contain yourself. His bottom lip is between his teeth as he fucks you. One hand goes to the shelf behind you, causing a couple more books to tumble over.

You’re beginning to moan, and as much as he loves the sound, he can’t risk getting caught. One hand covers your mouth while his lips go to your ear, “You want us to get caught, naughty girl? You want everyone to come see you get caught?”

God, he just feels so good inside of you, it’s hard for you to keep it all in. His cock hits all the right spots. You could come alone with the way he moves in and out of you. Yet your hand still moves down to your clit to play with it.

Aki understands the way you feel because he’s trying his best to contain himself as well– In more ways than one, because he could come at any moment. He stops covering your mouth and his lips land on yours again. 

He feels your cunt clench around him, and he moans in your mouth. When he pulls away, his lips go to your ears again, “Love your tight little pussy. I could die in it, and I’d die a happy man.”

His cock picks up speed with every thrust. His hand is back on your mouth, muffling the sounds that get louder and louder with every thrust. You reach your climax, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your legs spasm.

“So fucking good. I need to come inside your pussy.” He mutters. After a few more thrusts, you feel as his warm cum fills up your cunt. He keeps his cock inside you for a minute. He takes it out and fixes your panties. He pecks your lips one more time, as he fixes himself up. 

“Go fix your paper, and if I like it enough, I’ll give you another reward.”

🏷 @witchofoe @cactustattoo @dearsunaa @mykyoon @tojidilfs @b3ast1706 @crispmarshmallow @matchabluebeiry-for-nanami @nobody289x @nothisispatrick300 @tojianddabisslut @katsuwhore @septembersums @thisbicc @rumi-rants @chloee0x0 @dakumarauder @lovemarvel16 @lilithlunas @sarcasticallydrowning

[sarahreesbrennan]

I remember reading in one of your blog entries (years ago??) that in the new book you were writing, the main character's *sister* had cancer. Does that mean that Alice was originally the main character of Long Live Evil? Was she going to go into the book to save Rae, instead of Rae going in to save herself?

How extremely kind of you to remember!

No, that was actually a YA murder mystery that I wrote while ill, revised while recovering, and sent out into the world where it died on submission. (Which means we sent it out to about 12 editors and the editor either said no, or said yes and took it to acquisitions - a group of people at the publisher including sales and marketing - and acquisitions said no.)

One editor told me she really wanted and really tried to buy it. Another person who worked in publishing (and has since changed jobs, or I wouldn’t share this) said the response at her acquisitions was - if you like this writer, find the next her (implications about health and youth were made).

I was terrified my agent was going to ditch me too, but she said ‘We’ll sell that one day, for now let’s write the next thing.’

I remember another writer telling me she missed my work that wasn’t a tie-in, and I felt ashamed to tell her it wasn’t that I wasn’t writing other things - it was that I couldn’t publish them.

The tie-ins meanwhile were paying the bills (they still are tbh!) and I was and remain so grateful for them. But I also really loved writing them - especially my Sabrina tie-ins, you don’t forget the first, and it reminded me I want to write horror and poly one day - and how they got me to love and sympathise with so many fandoms.

I see the burnout of caregivers all around me, and I wanted to write the story of one. But maybe I also wanted to take a step back from cancer. I didn’t think I did, at the time. I had a whole lot of things I tried writing before Long Live Evil, and I think some of them were really good. One of my critique partners gave me a lipstick with the same name as someone in the murder mystery. There was a romance novel another critique partner said was her favourite thing I’d ever written. But none had someone with cancer at the heart of the story.

And even though Rae isn’t much like me, maybe I had to start there. You can’t make real magic using someone else’s liver. Maybe I had to wait to be brave enough to use my own liver.

I do get requests for advice on how to cope with rejection of your writing, and I always worried I didn’t have anything else to say, but I suppose my example says - if you can, (and I know it’s hard, you feel so terrible at writing and so useless) (and you love the work you’ve done so much and you don’t see a way forward to loving the next thing) (but still, if you possibly can) write the next thing.

Even if the first thing sells, you’ll want the next thing one day. Writing the next thing is more writing practise, so it’ll make you better. Write the next thing.

Ultimately I’m really glad Long Live Evil was my comeback book. I think it needed to be. It took the time it took.

But maybe it was a shade of that past book (where the heroine’s sister with cancer was six, so not much like any of the Time of Iron characters) that made me think of the YA version of this book, which I always had in my mind as something I was intentionally hewing away from - a more straightforward book, a book that might have sold better - in which shy reader Alice was the hero. She’s the one with the suggestive hero name - Alice through the looking glass - the heroine looks, and the more projectable-upon personality. She’d get called annoying less often (though still some, because she’s a girl), partly because she is (with love, Rae knows I’m right) a genuinely less annoying person. Much kinder, much sweeter, and much better at in-depth reading! Her sister being in trouble would’ve been a backstory, a catalyst point, and - you’re totally right - a great motivation for her to get the Flower. Saving a family member is a much more sympathetic and heroic motivation than saving yourself and one I do love (the Hunger Games, Labyrinth, Mahy’s the Changeover, and I write it a lot!). I think Snarky While Tragically Dying Rae would’ve been a pretty popular side character, too. I think it would’ve been a good book! Just not mine.

I love your question because I love thinking about POV, and all the decisions that are the building blocks of a story. To me, the Alice centric Time of Iron is a version that exists. As are several versions of the Lia centric Time of Iron. And versions centring other characters exist to me, too. (Eric, absolutely.)

Speaking of POV musing, I think Rahela the wicked stepsister featured more in the musical than the book. If the Time of Iron series ever became a TV show (and at this point in time I think I’d rather a movie because it wouldn’t… get cancelled…) and I got to write it (don’t know why I would…) I would start with the beginnings for three characters about to go on a journey to somewhere strange to them: Key in the Cauldron, Rae in the hospital, and Vasilisa in the icelands. There are so many possibilities! And I really wanted the sense that there were so many possibilities, too.

But I wanted the chronically ill one to be the centre of the story, and for it to be her villain origin story, and to ask a lot of questions (hence a lot of villains!) about who gets villainised and why. And I thought hers, to my mind, would be the most fun of all the possible stories.

So that’s the one I made. But Long Live Evil has a lot of origins. Thank you for remembering one of them! I don’t think I would’ve dared tell the story, if things hadn’t worked out for me (so far, fingers crossed).

And I also tell it to be clear my publisher was taking a RISK with me and Long Live Evil, and I really appreciate that, and I’m so happy it’s worked out for them (again so far, early days, fingers crossed, etc).

I hope some writers - whether in the process of submission, rejection or making the choices that are the building blocks of story - find this helpful, and some readers find it interesting.

Let this be one of the universes in which your story is told.

[despacito-uwu16]

The Rising Action

Kenji Sato x Journalist! Reader

Enemies To Lovers | Foced Proximity | Pining

<- prev next ->

“Hit me like a poisonous dart. You were trouble right from the start. Should’ve ran I guess that’s my fault”. - I do by G-IDLE

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

“Ken Sato has received a 3rd strike. One wonders, how hard is it to hit a small ball, I bet a one-eyed zombie could hit a ball better than he can”. You say into your recorder.

“Wow, you are harsh”. Ami says as you end your recording.

“It’s called being honest. I report what I see”. You reminded her. “I mean have you seen the way he played today”?

“Yes Y/N, we’ve been watching the same game. But it got me thinking. When I interviewed Ken, he refused to talk about his family. He refuses to show vulnerability. It’s like he’s wearing some sort of mask. Something is going on with him, and when I know something, I don’t let go”. Said Ami.

“Wow, you are very determined”.

“At least get to know him before you start roasting him”. Ami suggested.

“Note taken”. You lied.

After graduating college, you were hired as an intern at the Los Angeles Magazine. You would stay at the office after midnight to revise and edit articles for other reporters. Eventually, your boss gave you your first assignment. Coincidentally, at a baseball game. You took in every detail of every player, noting all of the small mistakes and flaws of the games. Everyone looked like they didn’t know how to play, much to your disappointment. But it made juicy material for you.

That night, you were writing like you were running out of time. The article you wrote was on some of the players and their failures. The morning after, you got called in to the editor’s office. At first you thought you were about to get fired, but your surprise, he complimented on your writing style, asking you to cover another baseball game. Eventually, you got promoted to journalist within 6 months of working there, naming you the youngest journalist in the field. A year and a half later, you were offered a job at the International Review Journal. They pay twice as much as the last salary and you get to travel for your job. It didn’t take too long for you to accept it, and the next thing you knew, you were on your way to make your mark in the world.

Everywhere you went, your words impacted people and the way they perceive their favorite athletes. All of the readers love you, while the athletes feared and hated you. You didn’t care for the love and hate. What matters is you were unstoppable.

Now here you are in Tokyo, Japan watching the Ken Sato struggle. You felt bad that the Giants were on a loosing streak, but you didn’t feel bad for Ken. It was his ego that brought him here after all. You leaned back in your chair with your recorder in your hand, while watching Ken having a temper tantrum in front of his coach.

~

As you walked out of the stadium, you were fishing out your car keys when you realized something was missing in your bag.

“Where’s my recorder”?

Panic starts to settle in as you looked through your tote bag.

“Looking for this”?

You turn around to see Ken Sato, waving your recording device in front of you.

“Well, if it isn’t the walking loosing streak. I would say great game, but let’s face it, i’ve seen better”. You sneered.

“Y/N L/N, the pain in my ass, Let me guess, obsessing with me as usual”? He asks

“I’m not obsessed with you, and even if I were, I would rather launch myself out of Tokyo on a ten foot pole than fan girl over a baseball fuck up”. You rolled your eyes.

“You have really creative comments Y/N. I think my favorite one has to be when you called me the hare who couldn’t beat the tortoise. But slower and more stupider”. He laughs.

“I also noticed that I’m the only person mentioned in your commentary. Am I just a cover for the fact that you know nothing about baseball”?

“Of course I know everything about baseball. I just like taking notes on the most notable failures in baseball history”. You scoffed

He lets out a laugh that still annoys you to this day. “It’s nice to know I have a fan”.

“Once again, the only person obsessed with you is you”. You retorted.

“Says the person who followed me all the way here from California”. He tossed your recorder to you. “I’ve read some of your stuff online. Judging by your writing style, you should consider a career in fanfiction writing instead of sports journalism”.

“Fuck off Ken”. You said.

While he turned around to walk away, you gave him the middle finger, and he stuck up his in return.

You rolled your eyes as you got into your car.

“What an asshole. And for the record, I was here first”. You aggressively push your car key into the ignition.

You were back in your apartment, editing your article on your gray velvet couch. You took a sip of your pineapple smoothie as you reread the last paragraph you’ve just written.

“Ken Sato, “the best living player”, is now the best living curse. From being on cloud 9 to falling into the pits of underworld, he might as well drag the giants along with him. Tread carefully Sato, consider yourself a dead man walking. If looks could kill, we wouldn’t be Coach Shimura”.

Is this considered slander? Possibly. But to you, it’s called journalism. And the best part of the job is the chaos it causes post-publish.

After rereading and editing, you hit publish. You sat back and watched as the likes and views came in.

Later that night, you were celebrating the success of your latest article, alone. You downed the last of your dirty shirley, feeling content with yourself and the hard work you’ve put in. You were about to ask for the bill, when the bartender placed a martini in front of you.

“I didn’t order this”. You look up at the bartender confused.

“It came from the gentleman in the black blazer”. He points to the man sitting at the end of the bar.

You look over with curiosity to see the man sitting at the end of the bar. Only to be disappointed when you realized the guy was Ken. He got up and walks up to you.

You glare at Ken as he approached you. “What do you want”?

“Can’t a man treat a cute girl to a drink”? He takes a seat next you.

You’ve been down this road before. After you publish an article, the athletes either bombards you with threatening emails or bribe you with money or expensive gifts. Either way, it didn’t faze you.

“If this is about the article, I’m not taking it down or tweaking it to your liking”.

“I usually don’t give a shit about what you personally think of me. However, my career is on the line because of you”. He said, his onyx eyes giving you the death stare.

“Awww, it’s not my fault the world thinks you suck. Go cry about it”. You roll your eyes.

“I’m not begging for you to delete the article. Instead, I’m offering you an opportunity”. Kenji proposes.

You turn your body towards him. “Go on”.

“You come live with me for the next two months, get the Kenji exclusive. You get to ask any question, and you get to follow me around. It’ll make great coverage for the sports magazine”. He leans back in his chair.

“Okay and why would I want to live with you”? You scoff.

Kenji smirks. “You can decline the once in a lifetime opportunity to do this interview, or I can tell everyone about our little escapade during college”.

You glared at him. “Excuse me”?

“Imagine if people found out that Ken Sato, a baseball legend and Y/N L/N, his biggest hater had a one night stand during our junior year. That would seriously affect your following and your career, wouldn’t it”? Kenji condescends, leaving you completely disgusted.

“You’re not the only one who can play dirty Y/N”. He smirks.

Of all the annoying things Kenji does, one thing you did not expect from him is to straight out blackmail you. Another is the fact that he’s right. If people found out you slept with an athlete, you can kiss your promotion goodbye. For once, you were backed into a corner, and there was nothing you could do or say to save yourself. Swallowing your pride, you decided to take the defeat.

“Fine. I’ll come shadow you”. You surrendered reluctantly.

Kenji smiles from ear to ear.

“But if you pull some shady shit on me, I’m ending it”. You threatened.

“Won’t be a problem”. Kenji pulls out a pen and writes something down on a napkin.

“Here’s the address to my house. Arrive at my place on Sunday at 9 am sharp”. He hands you the napkin and hands some cash to the bar tender.

“I look forward to this interview Y/N”. He winks at you as he leaves the bar. You sunk in your seat appalled.

“What the fuck did I just agree to”?

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[xvysarene]

𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕒 𝕋𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕖

Pairing: Rafayel x Fem!Reader Words: ~3.2k Genre: Suggestive Notice: Profanities (mild) A/N: A fun challenge to write something similar to Zayne's Stress Relief. Please give some love to it too! 💙

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

“What is cooking?”

Rafayel’s words infiltrated through the growing tumult in your mind, to the extent that you failed to register the stopping of the shower’s sound.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting him in just the perfect light. The glow of his skin was amplified by the deep richness of the navy button-front shirt he chose for the day.

His complexion had a rosy hue, giving him a fresh and healthy appearance.

You didn’t even realised he had brought a change of clothes last night. “Just pancakes, do you want some?”

“I’m good, Thomas is picking me up soon,” he said, approaching with a noticeable skip in his steps. “Though, if there are any leftover strawberries, I'd gladly have some.”

After you gestured to the appliance behind you, indicating he could help himself, he eagerly rummaged through the fridge.

A satisfied groan escaped his lips as he savoured the succulent strawberries, sending shivers running down your spine as it reminded you of the voices he made on a different occasion.

One that involved both of you lying horizontally on the bed…or even vertically on the living room last night. The dried champagne stain on your carpet was a reminder of what had happened.

You heard the click of the fridge closing before feeling arms looping around your waist. His fingers spread wide, tracing the curves just below your breasts with a deliberate touch.

“Raf—Rafayel, what are you doing?” you stuttered.

The batter spoon fell with a clang to the kitchen counter, feeling his lips grazed your skin, warm breath against your ear as he leaned in closer.

“I couldn’t resist,” his voice dropped with desire. “You’re irresistible looking like this.”

Perhaps he should have his eyes checked. He looked like a model ready for a photoshoot, while you felt like a rag with your shorts and oversized shirt.

“You’re going to burn my apartment,” you muttered, but couldn’t help leaning back further as you felt him nibbling on your ears slightly.

You always turned to putty in his hands. His touch was too tantalizing, too tempting to resist.

“You can move in to my place.”

Swift fingers turned off the stove and turned your head gently, claiming your lips. He tasted like sweet strawberries with a hint of tartness, a delicious combination.

One hand massaged your breasts alternatively before moving lower, long fingers meeting bare skin as they slipped past your shorts’ waistband.

“Fuck,” you heard him growl, not expecting you to be bare-bottomed and soaked, so ready for him.

The taste of strawberries lingered on your lips even after you parted, a constant reminder of the indulgence you allowed yourself to succumb to.

Rafayel pressed his forehead against the hollow of your neck, taking a deep breath. “Are you free tonight?”

“Yes—No,” you quickly revised, head clouded with the sensation of his lips peppering sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

“Anyways, call me whenever you get home,” he continued, unaware of your wavering resolution. You gasped as he shifted, feeling the unmistakable bulge pressing against your backside. “Or I’ll just wait for you here after my work is done for the day.”

With one tight squeeze, he released you and walked over to the sink, washing the apple that you hadn’t even noticed he had set aside from the fridge earlier.

Busying his hands as if he was restraining himself from spreading you onto the counter right then and there.

“I’m changing my door lock.”

Rafayel hmmed and a crunch reached your ears as he took a bite of the apple.

“Rafayel, I’m changing my lock.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time.” He took out his phone. “Just text me the new combination.”

Heart pounding and not from desire this time, you faced him. A furrow appeared on his brows as his fingers worked on texting someone, probably Thomas.

You could hear him lightly muttering, “I'm going to be late for the interview,” his tone slightly frustrated.

“No, Raf, you don’t understand. You’re not welcome here anymore.”

That made his bluish-pink eyes snap to yours, confusion evident in their depths. Both of you stared at each other for a while before you saw his fish brain had an “Aha!” moment.

He snapped his fingers after quickly pocketing his phone in his white slacks. “You want to come to my place, instead? Of course, you’re welcome anytime.”

A coy smile played at the corner of the lips. “We should have another go at the bathtub this time, yeah?”

You exhaled slowly, telling yourself to not be surprised at the conclusion he had decided to take.

“Raf I—” you stopped, feeling your confidence level lowering. “I want an end to this.” 

The crunch of the apple stopped mid-bite, the fruit inches away from his mouth. He looked at you as if you had grown two heads.

“I’m one hundred percent sure that wasn’t what you said last night.” 

Recollections of feeling the plush sofa on your knees as he took you from behind remained vividly burned in your mind.

During the fog of pleasure, you did tell him to never stop with whatever he was doing with his tongue, hands, and…

You shook your head, face flushed in embarrassment. The sudden pulsating throb in your core made you cross your legs.

Rafayel smirked at the sight, knowing he had pushed the right button.

“Rafayel, no—”

“Why though? Hasn’t the sex been great?” The smirk was eventually wiped off of his face. “If you don’t like anything, I can always compromise. In fact, you should tell me more about what you like.”

“We agreed that we could end this anytime.”

Friends with benefits—that was what you rashly agreed on. No conditions, no expectations aside from the physical connection that sparked between you.

And yet, you knew that the feelings you have always had for him would threaten to spill over someday. 

“You have a new boyfriend, is that it?” his accusing tone irked you.

“What do you think of me? A slut?” you retorted through gritted teeth. Fury starting to brew inside you.

“Last time I checked, you are the one who can't commit.” The harsh remarks sent a tiny speck of hurt to flash across his face, but it was gone as soon as it came. “You were the one to propose that we could end this anytime, no question asked.”

Truth was, you knew you couldn’t handle the heart break if he had laughed in your face for catching feelings.

His usually bright eyes darkened, an unexpected anger simmering beneath them.

“Fine.”

The spring that was in his steps earlier was gone, replaced by stomping. Hand gripped the door handle, knuckles turning white from the pressure.

“But don’t come running back at me later,” he threw over his shoulder before opening the door with more force than necessary.

Thomas’s widened eyes greeted him from the other side, his hand hovering in the air, seconds away from knocking on the door.

The manager would have knocked the pretty boy’s face if not for his fast reflexes.

“I pressed the bell earlier and—”

Rafayel pushed past Thomas, his brown dress shoes tap-tapping down the corridor.

With arms propped on the counter, you tried to support your body, feeling emotionally drained. “Don’t say it.”

Thomas sent you a pitiful look, one that you hated, and sighed. “Okay.”

“Thomas! We’re going to be late!” Rafayel’s voice bellowed from the elevator down the hall. Hopefully, you wouldn’t get any noise complaints from the neighbours.

“I’ll check back on you later,” he said softly, and ever the gentleman, closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the apartment that suddenly felt too empty.

Similar to the hollow left in the half-bitten apple. 

“Thomas, didn’t Mr. Zhao tell you that we only do shipments biweekly?” you said as a greeting as soon as you stepped out of the pickup truck.

The transporter that you had urgently hired popped up the cargo bed and began loading down the frames and canvases in a variety of sizes.

Hands perched on your hips, you sent Thomas a disapproving look. “You've got to be kinder to Mr. Zhao's back. The old man was having a hard time preparing all this, and I had to sternly tell him that I'm more than capable of helping.”

“I know, I know, please send my apologies to Mr. Zhao. I’ll compensate you double for this.” He waved nonchalantly to the direction of the truck. “Someone has been cranky all week, and he’ll cut my head off if these are not delivered today.”

You patted Thomas’s shoulder in sympathy as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t imagine.”

The two of you decided to help in moving the abundance of supplies Mo Art Studio had requested at such a short notice.

With the amount of tip that made your eyes cross, Thomas asked the transporter to wait outside for a while as he wanted to talk to you. The guy was more than happy to oblige.

The manager guided you inside, the private gallery’s air conditioning providing a refreshing relief from the bright sun.

Taking out the cheque book from inside his blazer, he quickly wrote the amount, ripped the piece of paper, and handed it over. Your eyes crossed for the second time that day at the sight of the numbers.

“Mr. Zhao would never accept this.” Shaking your head, you handed the piece of paper back to him, surprised that he really doubled the amount of the whole order. “Just write down per the price agreed; in fact, Mr. Zhao gave you a discount.”

Milky fingers took the cheque swiftly from your hand and stuffed it into your purse before you could utter any other word.

“How are you holding up?” he questioned, eyes beaming with genuine concern peered from behind warm gray, slightly purplish bangs.

Trying to act nonchalant, you shrugged. You had hoped to avoid returning to Mo Art Studio anytime soon, but it seemed fate had other plans, and it had come back to bite you right in the ass.

“I’m an adult, I can handle myself.”

“I’ve warned you, didn’t I?” he gently said and your eyes found the floor as you shuffled your feet. 

Thomas always made you feel like you were being watched under  the attentive, though critical, mother's gaze.

You had formed camaraderie with the fish boy’s manager, who often contacted or visited your workplace at Mr. Zhao's art supply store to place orders.

“You should never ignore your feelings for a fleeting moment of bliss, as they may overwhelm you in the end.”

You knew that this conversation was coming from miles away, but you did not hope for it to happen in under a week after Rafayel walked out of your place.

Thomas had visited you that day in the evening, and agreed not to mention anything about Rafayel before being let in.

“I get it,” you snapped and immediately felt bad. Ever the watchful mother hen to two chicks, Thomas had indeed warned you of the consequences.

You were the one too adventurous to resist a bite of the forbidden apple.

He sighed and engulfed you in a comforting hug, reminding you of your old teddy bear plushie. The feeling of his expensive blazer was soft against your cheeks.

“This changed nothing between us,” Thomas said as he took a step back. “If you need anything, call me.”

The sounds of footsteps and voices interrupted your response. Despite your shorter height, you could see camera crews following a couple past Thomas's shoulder.

Even through the gap from the dividing curtain between the main exhibition hall and the back door, you couldn’t miss the dusky purple hair appearing in your line of vision.

His face was adorned with a playful smile, while his arm was wrapped around an attractive leggy blonde.

“...and Mr. Rafayel, who is this lovely lady you're holding?” the reporter’s voice rang through the otherwise empty gallery.

Thomas's head snapped, and you heard a crack from his neck, along with some profanities escaping his mouth. It was surprising to hear such language from the typically composed manager.

Your eyes were focused on the blonde, who femininely covered her mouth, laughing at whatever Rafayel was saying.

“Y/N.” Thomas waved his hand in front of your face. “Y/N,” your eyes snapped back at the sound of his firm tone.

“Since when does he parade the girls he sleep with?” The bitter words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

He would usually keep them between the sheets, not in front of the camera.

“It’s not what you think. She’s an artist that he’s collaborating with.”

“Nevermind, it’s none of my business.” With a huff, you adjusted the strap of your shoulder bag.

“Y/N—”

You made the mistake of glancing in the direction of the couple once more. Chill ran through your body as you saw Rafayel’s eyes fixated on you, a mixture of emotion—anger and something you couldn’t place—passed through his face.

Dodging Thomas’s attempt to grab your hand, you waved at him dismissively. “Come visit the shop sometime.”

Days later, Thomas visited Mr. Zhao’s store, his presence a welcome relief from the palpable distress rolling off you.

After sharing a comforting early dinner, the two of you aimlessly strolled through the park just beyond the bustling streets.

The air was warm, gentle breezes rustling through the trees. Some people gathered for picnics or simply lounged with friends and family in the park.

You sent him a questioning look, noticing his unusual silence. Thomas slowed his pace once you passed the crowded area, leaving behind the sounds of children.

“Rafayel…he’s riddled with cracks, more than you can imagine.” You nearly trip on your own legs at his sudden remarks. “Despite the façade of carefreeness, he’s just a vulnerable guy seeking genuine affection.”

You stopped. “Thomas—”

“Listen to me first.” He motioned for you to keep walking, and you fell into step beside him.

“He’s used to the spotlight, used to people throwing themselves at him. Have you ever wondered why he jumps from one person to another?”

You hesitated, sensing that this could potentially be a trick question. “Because he can’t commit?”

“But if commitment is an issue, why did he stick around with you, when the previous ones were dismissed in a month, at most? Why did he talk about you so much to his aunt and me?”

Rafayel was talking about you to his aunt?

“Aunt Talia is the only family he has left, and I’m his only close friend. He doesn’t let people get too close to him because he had been burned before by their twisted intentions. They’ll discard him as soon as they’ve had their fill, so he pushes them away before he can get too attached. He’s got all tangled in the web of passing happiness they offer.”

All along, you had believed Rafayel’s short-lived “relationships'' were a result of his desire for freedom. Yet, it was rooted from others who had taken advantage of him.

Your heart constricted. “Why are you sharing all this with me?”

“Because I can’t stand seeing the two idiots that I care about hurting.” 

You weren't sure whether to be touched by his concern or offended because he thought you were an idiot.

“I’m not defending him for his actions, but you have to understand why he’s shaped the way he is.”

Thomas looked back as you halted, noting the troubled expression that crossed your face.

Desperately trying to protect your already fragile heart from further damage, you felt compelled to be the one to end the arrangement first, convinced that Rafayel would eventually cast you aside.

“I pushed him away, and he likely sees me as a leech now, just like what others did to him.”

He gently squeezed your shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault; you didn’t know all of this until now. But let's be honest, agreeing to friends with benefits was a stupid idea.” Thomas shook his head in disappointment, just like a mother dismayed by her child's poor decision-making.

“You came and disrupted his equilibrium. Rafayel is the one who needs to man up and learn to voice out his emotions.”

Thomas’s eyes flickered to something—or someone—beyond your shoulder.

“And perhaps, he has finally decided to pursue what he genuinely desires."

You turned slightly to see who had caught his eye.

To your surprise, Rafayel was frantically closing the distance, a comical expression of panic etched on his face. He stopped just before you, knees bent while panting heavily.

“Bloody cat��attacking me…from…the tree…” his words were punctuated by gasps for breath.

You glanced back at Thomas, considering whether he had planned this, but the manager was already halfway down the cobblestone path.

“I’ll leave you two kids alone,” he called out without even turning his back, waving as he walked away.

Rafayel was still trying to catch his breath, white shirt clinging to his body from the warm weather. Tendrils of hair stuck to his forehead, damp with perspiration.

“Are you okay?” 

He straightened up, face either flushed from running or embarrassment, you weren’t sure.

“Why did you never mention that you have feelings for me?”

“Excuse me?” you spluttered, taken aback.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Rafayel crossed his arms. A slight pout forming on his lips. "If I had known you didn’t want to see me anymore just because you like me, I would have skipped that boring interview and spent my day exploring every inch of your body, fulfilling every desire you didn't even know you had."

The gasp echoed loudly through the surrounding trees. Looking around anxiously, you made sure that no one—and heaven forbid, any children—heard his scandalous words.

“Rafayel!” Your hand came in contact with his pectoral. He was quick to grasp it, pulling you towards him. Arm caging you, preventing any chance of escape.

The blush on his face deepened, reminding you of the Wasabi Octopus plushie from the arcade. “I like you too, you fool.”

Rafayel tightened his embrace, enveloping you in his unique scent—a symphony of frankincense and sea spray, of earthly warmth and salty freshness. And you melted further, body fitting perfectly into his cocoon.

“I'd be content even if you only see me as a sex buddy, if it means I get to keep you in my life,” his voice was tinged with vulnerability. 

“That’s not healthy,” you murmured. “You are worth more than that.”

It was heartwarming to see him nuzzling against your hand as you caressed his cheek. 

“I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I was scared that you’d run away if you knew my true feelings.” He kissed the inside of your hand. “Talk to me, or scream—because I’m thick-headed—but don’t leave without any explanation. Please.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Raf.”

Rafayel relaxed at your reassurance. “This is me being a hypocrite; I am the one running back to you.”

Face nestled in your hair as he breathed in deeply, taking in the familiar scent of your coconut and plumeria shampoo that you knew he loved.

It brought back the sensation of warm sand beneath his feet, evoking memories of the quiet lapping of waves against the shore, soothing his soul.

“...and running away from that chubby cat as well,” he muttered to your hair.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within your throat.

Trust Rafayel to ruin such a tender moment.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST

[0310s]

golden retriever hybrid! leehan x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, suggestive themes (start of a scene)

wc: 0.8k

a/n: i literally have no experience writing smut scenes, so here’s a tidbit of smut (the most i could write lmfao) at the end of this imagine! will be working on future parts soon, let me know if you liked this <3 thank you to @dollvrse for implanting hybrid leehan thoughts into my brain...

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

Letting out a weary sigh, you unlock the door to your apartment. As much as you wanted to leave early on a Friday to get a jumpstart on the weekend, it was near impossible to leave the office today due to the sheer number of revisions the entire team had to work on. Your team leader announced with a heavy heart that she needed to assign everyone extra workload due to abrupt changes in the event timeline. How urgent it was you weren't exactly sure about, but you give your team leader the benefit of the doubt because she typically lets the team off early on Fridays. You try your best to finish your tasks as fast as you can—not your best work, honestly, but it would do.

Still, it's 12am when you enter your cozy apartment. Given how late it is, you expect the living area to be dark and unlit, but to your surprise, the lights are still on. You can vaguely see a figure slumped on the sofa. "Leehan, is that you?"

There’s no answer. You slip off your shoes in the entryway and set down your bag on the shelf, padding over to the figure. It’s indeed Leehan—he’s sitting but leaning on the side of the sofa, eyes closed. Crouching down to his height, you admire how long his eyelashes are and how peaceful he looks while napping. Everything about Leehan warms your heart, from his soft, fluffy ears, to his gorgeous face, his large but not intimidating frame, and his adorable, feathery tail that never seems to stop wagging when you’re near.

“Leehan, wake up,” you whisper, gently shaking him awake. It takes a minute for Leehan to register his surroundings as he blinks groggily, yawning twice.

“... Did I fall asleep on the sofa?” His voice is deep and comforting. It’s something you’ve fallen asleep to on multiple occasions. 

You laugh softly. “Yes, you did. Why aren’t you in bed? It’s already so late.”

Leehan gives you a sleepy smile. “I was waiting for you to come home.” Your heart clenches at this, and you feel a hundred—no, a thousand—times more guilty for working overtime, even if it was out of your control.

“Come on, it’s only been a day! Don’t tell me you missed me that much,” you giggle. 

“Still,” Leehan insists, grabbing your hand and nuzzling his cheek into your palm. “Missed you so much, (y/n). I’m always thinking about you when you’re not here.” He presses a gentle kiss to your palm. The touch of his petal-soft lips make shivers run down your spine. His eyes look imploringly at you, and you have an inkling that you would say yes to anything he’d ask of you. “Did you miss me?”

“Of course I did, baby,” you exhale. Leehan hides a smile at this, but his tail gives him away—it starts wagging furiously, thumping loudly against the seat of the sofa. You raise your eyebrow at him knowingly. At this, Leehan’s smiles even harder, his dimples appearing. 

“You should call me baby more… I like it,” Leehan murmurs. 

“Okay,” you agree. Leehan waits patiently. “Okay, baby.” He nods in satisfaction. You stand up, your hand slipping from his cheek. “Let me heat myself some food first, I’m hungry.” Not even a couple of steps to the kitchen, you feel arms wrapping around your waist. Leehan’s scent, woody and comforting, envelops you as he settles his chin on your shoulder. “Leehan!” You both waddle to the kitchen with a relative amount of success. “Any chance of you letting me go anytime soon?”

“Don’t want to,” Leehan admits petulantly. “Need to be near you.” He keeps his arms wrapped around you as you open the refrigerator and take out last night’s leftovers, neatly stored in Pyrex containers. He noses at your neck, inhaling your scent and sighing contentedly. 

You feel a little embarrassed at this. “Leehan, please, I haven’t showered… I’m all dirty. We can cuddle after I take a bath.”

At this, Leehan tightens his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. “No.”

“No what, Leehan?”

“No, you don’t smell bad. Smell nice. Don’t want to let you go.” You eventually accept your fate—you’re too weak for him. But it becomes a much more arduous challenge as he presses feather-light kisses where your neck and shoulder meet, laughing under his breath when you tremble. Then he starts sucking at your neck, and you feel a wave of arousal shoot through you. 

“Leehan. Baby. Please… I need to eat.” You almost moan as you set the Pyrex down almost a little too hard in the microwave, You quickly set the timer and wait for your food to warm. How embarrassing! But Leehan grows more insistent and presses his body as near as he can to your back—that’s when you feel it. “Are you…?”

At your acknowledgement, Leehan lets out a loud moan and ruts harder against your ass. He’s hard and thick against you, and you feel your thighs grow sticky with want. “Missed you… need you so bad. Please?” 

It’s always a losing game with him. “Okay, baby.” Your food grows cold in the microwave, long forgotten as you’re carried to your bedroom by your very happy (and needy) boyfriend.  

[onlycosmere]

Brandon Sanderson on the length of Wind and Truth

PumkinFunk:  I appreciate Brandon being self-aware about the fact that he will struggle immensely to keep the word counts down for this series.

KiwiKajitsu: If only he had a better editor

PumkinFunk:  I know this has become a common criticism since Rhythm of War after Moshe Feder retired, but I don't think it's true. One of his editors for his books is Devi Pillai, the head of Tor Publishing Group. The Secret Projects were edited in-house and generally were good. He has a lot of people giving him feedback, both in-house and outside.

jmcgit:  If Brandon wanted to work on revisions for an extra 6 months to refine and streamline the book, he could do it. This is a Brandon thing, not an editor thing. What was Brandon working on up until the last minute before he had to turn the book in? He was working on making the book bigger, squeezing in more content that he wanted to add. Brandon will tell anyone who asks that he likes to write, and dislikes revising.

When an author gets big enough, the publishers and editors lose their ability to rein in the author or make certain demands. Brandon will do what he wants, and if Tor doesn't like it, they can cancel his contract and Brandon can self-publish.

Brandon Sanderson: I realize it's difficult to see behind the veil of publishing, and much is opaque, but this isn't what I was doing during the last few months--I was cutting the book significantly. However, rough draft didn't include Interludes or Epigraphs, which is why it got longer after I cut it down. This draft lost over 60k words, but then I added in the interludes and epigraphs (along with a few key scenes I decided were needed.)

So, let's be clear about a few things. No editor has ever--in my life--cut my books down. It's not what they do. They largely haven't suggested it. Every editor, Moshe included, has always suggested things to change or add--they don't do much trimming. That's all my job, and always has been. Yes, there is a line edit, which does help trim--but I haven't stopped taking those suggestions, and usually go much, much further on a page-by-page case than they suggest.

I dislike revision, which is important for me to explain because I want people to understand that even for someone who loves their job, there are parts I don't like. But I DO it. I do A LOT of it. It's the part I have to force myself to do, but I am very good at it--and if you follow my stories about learning revision, you'll find that I very clearly explain that I didn't get published until I mastered the thing that was hardest for me. I consider my it, perhaps, my greatest strength as a writer--my ability to look at feed back and apply it to improve books.

If they get long, it's not because I've lost an editor. Moshe's strong suit was always diction, not trimming--and Gillian (who does that job now) is quite accomplished at both. She's Joe Abercrombie's editor.

I realize it's odd, because "to edit" means to trim, but an editor doesn't usually trim books--they offer suggestions for changes on the larger scope, and sometimes do a line edit pass to clarify.

Stormlight books are not big because I can't stop writing. You can pick any number of my shorter novels and see I'm quite capable of doing something at a normal book length. Stormlight books are big because that's the art I want to make--and they are not, and never have been, out of control. I am perfectly willing to accept that the story I want to tell has not appealed to some in the last installments! But don't blame my editors. This is an artistic choice of mine, and their job has never been to change the art. I get the same amount of editing now as I ever have--and I take largely the same amount of their feedback.

Note: don't take this as a direct condemnation of you or some of the things /u/KiwiKajitsu said above. It's more that I want to be very clear about my goals, and the process. My stance is one of explaining, not arguing against your opinions, as those are valid and perfectly reasonable ones to hold.

I realize that a long comment reply isn't the best way to prove I can be brief, but I sincerely think the trope of "He got big so he lost the ability to be edited" is not one that I fall into--I am, if anything, the most edited person at the industry, and see more criticism and feedback of my books prepublication than any other author. Editors and beta readers collectively wrote some 800k words of feedback for me over the last two years, which I incorporate. Not just the, "Add this" but also the "this sequence feels slow or unengaging." I am extremely passionate about listening to, and incorporating, editorial feedback.

It's fine to not like what I do. But don't blindly make the argument that I write it, kick it out the door, and don't pay attention to the revision process while ignoring editors.

jmcgit: Hey Brandon, I appreciate the insight! I regret that my post may have come off as if you carelessly "write and kick it out the door", as I know how hard you and your team have been working on the book over the past months and years, and how passionate you are about getting it right.

Brandon Sanderson: No problem and no offense taken! I just see a lot of confusion about these things.

I am edited far, far more now than when I was when I started and nobody cared. Though, admittedly, I think the most editorial scrutiny I ever got was on A Memory of Light a decade ago. I probably get less now, but I also have way more extensive beta reads.

It's just a complex process. And, you also ARE right in your initial post that I could go over it again and again, and some authors do. I'm middle of the road on the number of revisions I do, by my experience. Not as many as someone like Pat R. does. More than a lot of authors. I do not subscribe to the Heinline philosophy of only editing when required by contract that is very popular these days. (This philosophy believes that your initial artistic instinct will be right, and you shouldn't undermine it later on. I am not a fan, even if some people I respect follow this philosophy.)

Anyway, your initial post wasn't far off; I just wanted to offer some more context for this thread.

[sleepyhutcherson]

summer with the schmidts.

paring: mike schmidt x gn!reader (briefly mentioned)

summary: mike dreads the summer but deals with being outdoors knowing how much abby loves it.

tags: random headcannons that i came up with, fluff, established relationship, but reader is briefly mentioned, use of y/n, abby being mentioned, not revised, don’t think there’s anything else but let me know!

author’s note: i literally hate summer and i just know mike would too but i’m really just trying to be positive about it so i came up with these.

mike schmidt isn’t a big summer guy, let’s be honest. he prefers literally any other season, but when he catches the excitement in abby’s eyes when you mention how much fun the three of you will have, he forces himself to remain positive about it.

mike schmidt who tries to act like he isn’t excited while you all go out shopping for summer stuff. and honestly, at first he really isn’t, but when you suggest water balloons he tries to hide his excitement.

mike schmidt who always urges for abby to wear sunscreen. he definitely takes that seriously, too. he always has to tell abby something like “if you don’t put sunscreen on then we’re not going out.” in order to get her to put it on. he lowkey gets strict about it.

mike schmidt who hates how hot it is because he loves loves loves wearing hoodies. this is another reason why he dreads summer. he just feels more comfortable wearing layers, long sleeves, hoodies, etc.

mike schmidt who surprises abby with a pool. it’s not those expensive huge ones but he manages to save up some extra money to buy her one that she can have fun in.

mike schmidt who sleeps with like so many fans on. he can’t deal with the heat especially when he’s trying to sleep.

mike schmidt who goes out to sit with you while you both watch abby drawing with chalk on the driveway. the entire time you both talk, watching her with awe. eventually, you both join abby after she practically begs both of you to draw with her.

mike schmidt who is a sucker for ice pops (i’m not sure if that’s what they’re called, i know them as bolis, sorry!) and has like 10 a day. he swears they keep him from dying in the heat.

mike schmidt who will insist to hold you during the night. yes, he hates how hot it gets, but that’s why he keeps so many fans in his bedroom. he needs to hold you during the night, doesn’t matter how hot it is.

mike schmidt who suggests for you to sleep naked when you complain about how hot it is during the night. honestly, he sleeps in literally just his boxers during the summer. sometimes he’ll wear a tshirt, sometimes he won’t.

mike schmidt who will get in a bad mood due to the heat. it happens occasionally. he just can’t take it and will get angry at any little thing if he’s been in the heat too long without any water or fruit.

mike schmidt will live off fruit during the summer. literally he doesn’t know why but he has such a crave for it. he’s always chopping some up and snacking on it while you’re both outside with abby.

taglist: @cancelledkaley @stanheights-boyfriend @ploty-twist @st4r-b0ylover @laurrrelise @joshfutturman @gryffindorsblog @sofiehutch @obsessivemuso-withnofriends @helen-on-earth @fallingboba @cassiecasluciluce @maticka @jhutchissupercool

thank you for reading and for all your support <3

[footballerimaginess]

Studying

30 Day Writing Challenge 19. Studying Jude Bellingham Word Count: 338 You were sat in the kitchen at the table with what could only be described as a million books in front of you. You were in your last few months of your university course finishing, you had started it in England and ending it in Spain which is something you weren't expecting at all.

"You okay?" Jude asked you as he walked in as he made you jump. "Jude, don't do that" you clutched your chest as you wasn't expecting him to walk in. "Sorry" Jude laughed as he stood opposite you. "That's fine, you okay? did you need anything?" you asked him as he stood next to the table looking at all your books and papers around you. "I was just wondering if you were okay and if you needed anything?" Jude asked as you nodded. "I would like a glass of cold water please, I am okay. Just wanting this to all end now I feel like this has gone on for too long now" you sighed as he walked across the kitchen as he grabbed you a glass of water. "It will be all over soon, then you'll be finally free from all your essays as well as exams." Jude passed you the glass. "Thank you, yeah hopefully I can get it passed. I have worked so so hard on this" you told him as he pulled out the chair opposite you as he closely observed you. "You will do amazing and I know you will, you are so close to finishing this essay and what you have one exam left?" he questioned. "Yes only one exam and I have revised so much that my brain is not letting any of this information escape. I will take a break for a few hours to get food and hopefully get some fresh air" you suggested as you knew you needed it. "Sure that sounds good" Jude smiled, walking round the kitchen table as he massaged your shoulders which was in desperate need of having a massage.

[wileycap]

Further Excerpts From The Fire Nation Royal Palace Servants' (Unofficial) Handbook

Or: More Revisions To Normal Protocol After The Ascension Of Agni's Exalted Flame, The Dragon Of The Sun, et cetera, Fire Lord Zuko

Part 1:

7. If His Majesty offers you advice regarding martial arts, camouflage, theatre, or any other subject which he is commonly known to be well-versed in, accept it gratefully. If His Majesty offers you advice on emotional matters, listen politely and then disregard it.

7.1. If His Majesty uses the phrase "silver sandwich", you are entitled to a longer lunch break. So you can take a longer bite out of your silver sandwich.

7.1.1. Please do not vandalize the handbook, even if you think it's funny.

7.1.2. Especially if you think it's funny, Chikao.

7.2. If you share something tragic with His Majesty, and he replies "that's rough, buddy", it means he empathizes with your situation.

7.2.1 Alright, maybe he did need to learn that it's not a great way to respond to tragedy. But "rough like the boulders that crushed my father?" was a bit much.

8. Prince Iroh has advised the servants not to reveal to His Majesty what the meat in turtleduck dumplings is. Apparently, he thinks the name comes from their shape. The dumplings are not shaped like turtleducks.

8.1. Now that His Majesty knows, be ready to recite the names of all the turtleducks in the palace at a moment's notice, and also to reassure His Majesty that they are all safe, accounted for, and uneaten.

9. His Majesty should be kept apprised of any "sightings" of the Blue Spirit. The Blue Spirit is an entirely fictional creature. However, his belief in it is entirely benign (and as far as eccentricities go, we've all seen worse) and likely something he will outgrow with age.

9.1. Do not lie about any "sightings". If His Majesty is told that the Blue Spirit was sighted near his window, he will be extremely distraught for the entire day. The Fire Lord has too many real assassins to worry about already. There is no need to add imaginary ones to the mix.

9.1.1. And whenever he is distraught, his footsteps are even quieter than they normally are. It is hard enough to keep track of his movements as it is.

10. While His Majesty has approved the "Kick Ozai Retreat" for servants who were mistreated by Ozai of the Fire Nation (titles rmvd, dishon.), it will never be organized. Please suggest other activities for the Servant Wellness Day.

10.1. Yes, that is because Avatar Aang found out.

10.1.1. Specifically because of the very heartfelt and very long speech he gave on the matter. And the fear that he might give one again.

10.1.2. And no, we can not "simply tell the Avatar to shut up." He is the Avatar. And he is also a 13-year-old boy. His dragonling eyes are very effective.

11. Princess Azula is at the stage of her treatment where she will take regular trips to the palace, dividing her time between her island and here. We're all terrified, but there's nothing we can do.

11.1. Lady Beifong has offered to act as protection, should the need arise. On an unrelated note, the kitchens will now be serving a number of delicacies from the State of Gaoling.

11.2. At the specific and undeniable request of Master Toph, The Blind Bandit, her titles and styles have been updated and they will be enforced effective immediately.

12. If Avatar Aang is seen on a rooftop with no apparent purpose, that means that Fire Lord Zuko is also on that rooftop. Get him down.

12.1. If Master Katara appears to be discreetly looking for someone, that usually means that one or all of His Majesty, Avatar Aang, Master Toph, the Honorable Tribesman Sokka, or the lemur Momo are in some kind of trouble. Assist her. Before one of those idiots gets themselves killed.

12.2. Do not vandalize the handbook, even if it's true. Also, please do not call our Fire Lord, the Avatar, Master Toph, or the Avatar's beloved pet an idiot.

13. Any senior officials who wish to challenge Fire Lord Zuko to an Agni Kai should be directed to the Fourth Scribe's office. They should also be told that there is a waitlist.

13.1. If the Honorable Tribesman Sokka wishes to challenge the Fire Lord to an Agni Kai again, he should be denied. No matter what he tells you, he has not developed Firebending abilities by means of "Spirit World shenanigans" or by Avatar Aang "just giving them to him, Energybending style, like best buddies do, you know."

13.1.1. The Matron has made it known that if the Honorable Tribesman Sokka offers to demonstrate his so-called "Firebending abilities" again, servants are allowed one free kick. The last time he did it, the stench from his blubber bombs lingered for three weeks.

[markscherz]

This isn’t a question I just wanted to thank you for your service, if I have the right Mark Scherz.

Hm. I lied. Question: do you have plans to name more frogs in the future. Please say yes.

It was my great pleasure. I get to take credit for coming up with the names, but the frogs themselves were really discovered by my colleagues, and it was a large team effort to get them described. Of course, I was very glad that they appreciated and supported the humorous name suggestions as well. Working with such wonderful people to describe these remarkable tiny frogs was one of the absolute highlights of my career. And I have been just overwhelmed with how well the names have been received by the world.

To-date I have described 120 new species. My colleagues and I are constantly working on taxonomic revisions. I have several new species of frogs (and reptiles) in the pipeline. You can keep track of this tolerably well on the publication page of my website.