#anyway i Was planning on doing a full body for this

[camficdiner]

1.5, 2.6, 3.1, 4.2

how about will and her are friends and he’s at her place and she’s baking something and she accidentally burns herself and is freaking out and will doenst know what to do so he burns himself as well so she’s not in pain alone and she’s like what is wrong with you then somehow turns into an admission of feelings 😏 but also it’s so hilarious as they’re both dying of pain

☕️ cams fic diner — order 104

🍒 thank you, to the girlies who fall in love mid-disaster. matching burn scars. dumb boys doing dumb things for love. you never planned to say it — but he panicked, and now here you are. this one’s yours.

💬 “You Burned Yourself for Me?”

✨ description & prompts:

- character: Will Smith

- prompt: you accidentally burn yourself while baking — and Will, in full panic, burns himself too so you’re “not in pain alone”

- tropes: friends to lovers • mutual pining • chaotic love confession

- wc ~1.1k

✨🛼🍒🧁

You swear it wasn’t your fault.

You were making cookies. Normal cookies. Normal, stress-baking, Sunday-night-let’s-pretend-we’re-fine cookies.

And Will Smith — your friend, your platonic friend, who definitely doesn’t make your stomach flip when he smirks at you like that — was sitting on your kitchen counter, being no help at all.

“You’re gonna spill that,” he said for the third time, eyeing the bowl precariously perched on your forearm.

“I’m not,” you said, too confidently.

You did.

“Shit—”

“See? I warned you—”

“Do not laugh, I swear to God—”

He did. Loud and obnoxious.

You flipped him off with one hand and grabbed a towel with the other, wiping down your shirt while he grinned at you like he’d just won something. Which was unfair, because he always grinned at you like that. Like you were the funniest thing he’d ever seen. Like he wasn’t casually ruining your friendship one heart-eyed look at a time.

Anyway.

You cleaned up, took the cookies out of the oven, and were mid-slide-with-the-tray when your fingers caught the rack.

You didn’t even register the pain at first. Just heat. Then—

“FUCK—”

The tray clattered to the floor.

Will jumped off the counter like he’d been shot. “What? What happened?!”

“I burned my hand—fuck, fuck—”

You dropped the tray, running to the sink like instinct, cold water slamming over your wrist as you swore under your breath. Will hovered behind you, absolutely useless, face pale.

“Okay, okay, do I—do you need something? Bandages? Neosporin? Ice?”

“I don’t know, it just hurts—”

Will panicked.

Fully.

He grabbed the oven mitt still sitting on the counter, yanked it off, reached into the still hot oven—

And burned himself.

You heard the sizzle. Heard him.

“SHIT—OW—WHY IS IT SO FUCKING HOT—”

“Will?!”

You turned, wide-eyed, water still running behind you. Will was standing in the middle of your kitchen, hand clenched, looking like he’d just been betrayed by every kitchen appliance you owned.

“What the hell did you just do?!”

He winced. “I didn’t know what to do—so I—burned myself?”

“Why?”

He looked at you. Fully deadpan. “So you wouldn’t be in pain alone.”

You stared.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m helping.”

“You’re bleeding!”

“I’m bonding!”

You both stood there in chaos — the oven still open, the cookies on the floor, your wrist under the sink and his hand slightly shaking — and for some reason, you laughed.

It started small. Then turned into a full-body, can’t-breathe, what-is-our-life kind of laugh.

Will blinked. “You’re laughing at me?”

“No,” you said, giggling. “I’m laughing with you.”

“I’m not laughing.”

You grinned harder.

He tried to pout. Failed. Then grinned back.

And just like that — like some invisible wire snapped — the air shifted.

He stepped closer.

Your hand was still wet. His was still warm. But now he was close enough to count your freckles, to see the way your chest rose and fell a little too fast. Close enough that you could smell his cologne and see the sweat at his hairline.

“You really burned yourself,” you said softly, staring at his palm. “Just because I got hurt?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice just as soft. “I think it broke my brain a little.”

You swallowed. “Why would you do that?”

He smiled, just a little. “Because I’m in love with you.”

Your breath caught.

He looked away, nervous now. “I mean—I didn’t plan on saying that after trying to die via oven rack, but—I do. I’ve been in love with you for a while. And I didn’t know how to say it. But then you screamed and panicked and I thought you’d hate me if I just stood there, so I—burned myself. Which, in retrospect, was dumb. But also effective?”

You were still staring.

He shifted. “Please say something. My hand’s throbbing and I might cry.”

You reached for him.

Gently. Slowly. Your hand slid into his good one. You looked up and smiled, still teary from the burn and the heat and the everything.

“I think I love you too,” you said. “But if you ever do something that stupid again, I’m breaking up with you immediately.”

He grinned — wide and so Will — and leaned in close.

“Noted.”

Then he kissed you. Right there in your kitchen. With the tray on the floor and the oven still open and two matching blisters blooming between you.

And it was perfect.

[lilacwinexi]

LATE

Sam Monroe x reader

Summary: You and Sam are late to dinner with your friends because he’s horny.

Contains: swearing, sexual content.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I warned, tugging a T-shirt over my head.

Sam didn’t stop.

He sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, one hand braced behind him, the other holding a pair of keys he was clearly not planning to use anytime soon. His eyes dragged over my legs, up my bare thighs, stopping at the hem of the shirt, his shirt, that barely covered my underwear.

“Not looking at you like anything,” he said, lips twitching.

“You’re staring.”

“You’re wearing that.”

“This is your shirt.”

“Exactly.”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the mirror, running a brush through my hair. We were supposed to be leaving in fifteen minutes, some dinner thing his friend was throwing. Casual, he said. ‘Nothing fancy.’

So why did he keep biting his lip like he was trying to unbutton me with his eyes?

“You know we have to actually show up, right?” I said.

“No we don’t.”

I looked over my shoulder. He was still watching me. My brush fell from my hands and hit the floor, letting out a sigh, I bent down and picked it up. His gaze dropped again. “Bend down like that again and see what happens.”

“Im brushing my hair.”

He stood. “Not anymore you’re not.”

And then he was behind me, slow but sure, his hands sliding around my waist, mouth at the back of my neck.

“You always this impatient?” I asked, smirking.His breath was warm against my skin.

“You always this cocky when your legs are shaking?” He said, dragging his lips up the side of my neck.

“They’re not.” I said, barely a whisper.

“Yet.” I could feel his smirk against my skin

I turned to face him. His hands stayed on my hips, thumbs stroking over the fabric of the shirt. His eyes were darker now. Focused. “You’re gonna ruin my makeup,” I murmured.

“Good.”

He kissed me. It started slow, the kind of kiss that says I’m going to take my time with you, but that didn’t last long. His hands slipped under the shirt, rough palms dragging up my sides, not stopping until his fingers were brushing the underside of my breasts.

I moaned into him, leaning forward, letting the brush fall from my hand and clatter to the floor. “You gonna make us late?” I whispered against his lips. “Yeah,” he said. “I am.”

He walked us backward toward the bed, hands greedy now, mouth devouring. I landed on the mattress with a soft thud, his body already crawling over mine, all heat and hunger and need.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I said.

“So are you.” He replied, breathless.

He pulled the shirt over my head in one swift motion, tossing it aside without looking. His eyes landed on my chest, his breath caught. “Fuck.” I reached up and tugged at the waistband of his jeans. “Off. Now.”

He obliged, stumbling a little as he kicked them off, eyes never leaving mine. He wasn’t smiling now. He looked hungry.

When he crawled back over me, we both exhaled at the same time, that full-body, skin-to-skin relief. His hand cupped my breast, mouth following fast, tongue warm and wet against my nipple. I arched into him, gasping, one hand in his hair, the other clawing down his back.

“God, you’re so—”

“Say it,” he growled.

“You know what you’re doing to me.”

“I want to hear it anyway.”

“You ruin me.”

He smiled against my skin, teeth grazing. “Good.”

He trailed kisses down my stomach, then lower. His hands spread my thighs, and I felt his breath before I felt anything else, hot, open-mouthed kisses on the inside of my thigh, his thumb dragging over the damp fabric of my underwear.

“You’re soaked.”

“Because of you.”

He hummed low in his throat, then pulled the fabric aside and licked a slow stripe up my center. I cried out, head falling back, body arching. His grip on my thighs tightened. He took his time, long, lazy strokes, mouth and fingers working together in maddening rhythm. He didn’t rush. Didn’t need to. He had me unraveling by the second, every breath louder than the last.

“Sam—please—”

“Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

“I’m right here.”

I looked down, breathless. “I want you inside me.”

That made him fold. He moved up fast, grabbing a condom from the drawer, one hand shaking slightly. He tore the wrapper open with his teeth, watching me the whole time.

When he pushed into me, we both went still. No words. Just this.

Hot. Slow. So deep I swore I stopped breathing.

“Fuck,” he whispered, forehead pressed to mine. “You feel…”

“Don’t stop.”

He moved, slow at first, like he was memorizing me. Then faster, harder, our bodies slamming together in desperate rhythm. Every thrust pulled a sound from my throat I couldn’t hold back. My nails dug into his shoulders, and he didn’t stop, didn’t let up, just kept moving, kept chasing whatever it was we both needed so badly.

“You’re mine” he said into my ear, voice broken. “No one gets you like this. Just me.”

“Just you,” I gasped. “Only you.”

My orgasm hit like heat breaking under skin. I clenched around him, shaking, moaning so loud I didn’t care if anyone heard. He wasn’t far behind, hips stuttering, breath ragged, before he came with a groan that sounded like need and relief and everything in between.

We collapsed together, sweat-slicked and breathless, limbs tangled. A long moment passed. Just the sound of our breathing.

“We’re very late,” I said, voice hoarse.

Sam laughed against my neck. “Totally worth it.”

[aziemniak]

Reblogging this again because I'm a dumbass who can't read and haven't noticed this was inspired by a WIP idea the first time around and tags are a nightmare to edit so. Whoops

Anyway I wanted to share my take in one of my settings for inspiration, I have no idea if I'd actually manage to work it into a full book without it coming across as random and overly self-serving. Idk I just like a body swap trope lmao.

Basically in that setting there's magic and souls as the "centre of consciousness", HOWEVER a soul is kinda like. A backup save for the personality. At its core it is a blank slate shaped entirely by the body/brain. SO if I actually do end up adding a body swap thread in that setting, you'd have all the body's quirks, illnesses, memories, emotional reactions, all of that jazz, and then somewhere in the back of your new head your own memories and personality (which I too think would be affected by your original body's mental disorders, but more like, as a memory of it? Like you'd get to experience what it's like to NOT have those neural pathways. Sounds like a recipe for dysphoria tbh). Anyway, the soul would be driving the more planned through decisions, while the body would have a greater influence on your emotions. And yes under that premise you could totally forget yourself in the body you are occupying and it would be Confusing with a capital C.

The fragment I'm debating whether I should add or not would be less about worrying about that and more of a brutal "mask off" moment since most of that cast is hiding something from the others. Including but not limited to Delicious Angst of revealing that the calmest character has their body in a constant state of fight-or-flight and he only holds his shit together through the power of depersonalisation and alexithimia. Which I'd also attribute to the "soul" part being actually disconnected from its body rather than to those being only neurological conditions, so the person swapped to that body would NOT have their shit together and would also be doubly confused about which reactions are theirs and which one are the body's.

Never thought about DID under these worldbuilding rules though. I don't have it nor know any systems, I've only done what feels like surface level research, so forgive me if my worldbulding makes zero sense (I don't really intend to write anything in this vein because, again, I Do Not Know Shit and I have no intention of pretending I do). Right now though I'm thinking something like this: if a single person swapped into a systems body, they would kinda develop their own alters, since switches as far as i know do have a neurological cause. While a system's soul in another body would just have all alters “fronting” (is that the term?) at once without actually fusing. Which sounds overwhelming as FUCK. But either way, since all of this operates on Plato-esque soul magic bs, a bodyswap would occur with all the alters/consciousnesses sharing one soul.

if you bodyswapped with someone would you acquire their mental illness? their habits? how much of you is Inherent To You and how much is in your neural pathways? your muscle memory? the longer you stay in someone else's body and brain do you become less you? do you forget? what about the conflict between what You Know is you and what your new body assumes is you?

anyway I'm thinking about bodyswap as horror and a race to swap back before your complete and total unbecoming. can anyone hear me

new wip premise?

[swhhdr-wthhr]

don’t you hate it when your brother brings the guy who tried to kill you a bunch of times to your party

original meme under cut

[xskyll]

You can tell it’s a flashback because everyone is missing at least one piece of equipment, lmaooooo. (Mina is missing her breast plate, Denki his hat, Kacchan his cape, and Izuku his hat and cloak.) It’s like when tv shows let you know something happened in the past by giving all the characters bangs.

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[gomzdrawfr]

in light of going ang ang (means red in Hokkien) for my blog (taste the red and yellow yIPPIE) here's some discarded cny stuff from last year that I didn't share for reasons

Lion Dancer Ghost - Gaz is also a dancer, Price's the coordinator and Soap's the drummer xD

I wanted to do one doodle everyday on cny but never got to it, here's some of the ones I did (I think i shared this before i cant remember)

oya last year was the year of dragon and I did posted the colored dragon Price

not cny, but i found this when i was scrolling through my folder so xD part of an au by a friend of mine

[xiii-e]

//ooc posting: I NEED to find more fun/silly things to do with my two they are Not meant to be all agony all the time I swear- I just have a penchant for the dramatic and they're a little in the torment nexus o(-< but on god they will Have Fun too

[obaewankenope]

I'm going to try and finish at least one (1) fic this month even if it kills me bc jfc I'm losing my mind at how much I wanna finish sth and just keep stalling gfdi

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Also hoping things at work pan out the way they're looking bc it's so surreal to know I'll be in a position where people are gonna be looking up to me

[elongated-twink]

I think being autistic does actually make me inherently better at animal handling because I, too, have been yelled at for growling and biting when everyone ignored my previous warnings and didn’t set clear boundaries

[hershelwidget]

stands ominously in a corner

"hey. i'm just going to the store. we're out of cereal. do you want anything?"

dad of the year award goes to philliam

[seventh-district]

hhhrrrhggrghrghhhhhhh

ok i'm continuing my tag-yapping under a cut bc the tag limit can’t even hope to contain me this morning

CW: vent post (<- bc i don't have room for it in the tags and while this isn't quite like my typical vent posts, it definitely still has a lot of. idk. negative vibes. so. idk guys just scroll on by and leave me to my insanity)

(also i suppose i should warn for Arcane and Stranger Things spoilers, and Genshin Impact leaks. how did we get here idk this post is a fucking mess)

[continuing from where the tags left off]

like i have seen just enough spoilers to know that it’s gonna be another Eddie Stranger Things situation for me again. and that fixation was terrible man like don’t get me wrong i enjoy him a very normal amount these days and it’s fine but at the beginning??? i grieved that MF like he was a real person bro it was embarrassing. it literally brought me back to one of the worst emotional states i’ve ever suffered through. being prone to hyperfixating is fun and all until you’re sobbing in bed losing ur mind over missing someone that never even existed and you can’t function in your day-to-day life. then it’s not so fun. but anyways time lessens the pain of all wounds or whatever and i eventually became normal about Eddie. but like man. man i’ve got quite the feeling that Viktor will put me in a similar state. maybe hopefully not quite so bad but like. mmm. it would be a very bad idea to finally watch the show at this point in my life, given that things have quite literally never been worse and are only getting worse-er. but I Do Not Control The Fixation and i made the mistake of falling down a reaction-video rabbit hole on YT the other day. which i always regret bc i always end up on some random new misogynistic republican man’s channel who i’ve never heard of before and i just hurt my own feelings and it makes me lose hope in humanity and. it’s just always a bad time. like i only follow a very select few reaction channels who i actually enjoy but then i click on one (1) video and the fucking recommended videos always pull me in different directions and next thing i know it’s 3 hours later and i’m on a very different part of the internet and i realize oh there’s actually a lot of hate in the world. how did i get here. anyways.

about halfway down the rabbit hole i was watching some therapist guy reacting to Arcane bc i wanted to see his reaction to the Viktor and Jayce ��Am I interrupting?” scene from S1EP2 bc it’s literally the only scene i’ve watched in-full (yes i engage with media in a very non-linear way don’t ask why there’s just something wrong with me) and bro. when i fucking tell you it felt like i got hit by a truck the moment Viktor was on screen— ,,,….,.,… like i didn’t realize how long it’d been since i’d seen it. and i. you know that meme that’s like “hyperfixation so bad i can’t engage with the source material”? yeah i experience that. like a lot. and i had one of those moments then. bc like. i’ve enjoyed his character for a long time. from a… distance? bc i’ve just never been ready to let the fixation fully hit me. ….. dear god i’ve been microdosing blorbos. jesus christ that’s funny. anyways where was i.

yeah i like. i read a bit of Viktor fanfic and admire fanart and gifs from the show and i have learned some of the gist of what’s going on with him through a particular creator’s rp audios that i have played to absolute death bc they’re very good. so i’m like. already attached to the character. he’s up there in my head with all the other blorbos. but i’ve never fully engaged with the source material. and so when he came on screen in that guy’s reaction video it was like. idk how to describe it. staring at the sun? or like. taking too much of a drug… idk i can’t. find the right metaphor. but it was just. Intense and it hit me all at once and i literally had to close the video like— i couldn’t take it lmfao. but ever since that i’ve got this urge to finally watch the show in full. but i’ve gathered through out-of-context screenshots and bits of people’s reactions to S2 that he.. dies? i think?? possibly more than once??? like i don’t really know any details and have very little context to go off of but i am surmising that he loses himself in hextech and goes robo-jesus mode in his search for тhe Glorious Ovulation or whatever the fuck is going on in this show that he then. dies?? with Jayce??? or ascends to the astral realm or some shit. like i literally have no clue what’s going on in that screenshot that was all over tumblr for a while after S2 dropped but. something is happening and i think it’s gonna be sad. (lmao i'm rereading this and i gotta say the Russian T wasn't intentional, i was typing too fast and accidentally switched keyboards instead of capitalizing it. but it made me laugh so i'm leaving it)

and like. i recognize that a character’s death can serve a respectable purpose in a good story and death is an inevitable part of life and all that. i respect it. but u must also understand that i am a sensitive little baby who has to endure enough angst in my real life that i selfishly want all my fave little blorbos to live forever and ever and happily ever after off into the sunset. okay? duality of man or whatever. (well, the happily part isn’t rlly necessary. i love angst i just hate death. they don’t gotta be happy forever they just gotta be alive. there is. a Reason that one of Saoirse’s defining characteristics is their infinite revivals resulting in effective immortality. all the angst of death with none of the permanence. and there’s a Reason that a lot of my favorite characters are Gods and angels and demons and vampires and werewolves and cyborgs and automatons. long-life species. i want so much more time than i’m ever gonna get and i Will project that onto the media i create and consume. next question.) so. where was i. oh yeah. so like. while i Accept the fact that Viktor’s presumably gonna die. i just know it’s gonna be an Eddie situation with me again and i don’t think my fragile psyche can handle that rn. so i guess i’ll just suppress the desire to watch Arcane until morale improves.

which is probably wise regardless of the emotional impact it’ll have on me given that i’m in one of my migraine-prone phases again and i know myself well enough to know damn well that if i start watching it rn i’ll binge the whole thing in like 2 days, induce a god-awful migraine from the screen-staring and lose touch with reality in the process. and hate myself for wasting time on a show when i could be doing literally anything else. like that’s a major reason i hardly ever watch anything anymore bc it just makes me feel more guilty for being lazy. bc like. in my mind if i’m writing or coloring or playing a game or engaging in any hobby that requires me to interact with it in some way, i can feel less bad for wasting time on it bc i’m at least Doing something. but watching a show or a movie or even a YT video just feels that much more lazy bc i’m literally just laying in bed staring at a screen not moving or using my brain. and i realize that i wouldn’t ever criticize someone else for it but. there’s another standard when it comes to me. like i know i should be studying and learning and working and cleaning and exercising and socializing and forcing myself to attend to all the adult responsibilities that are piling up on me. so if i’m gonna keep avoiding them then the least i could do is do something at least pseudo-productive instead. (even if that’s spending 2 hours yapping on Tumblr about how i can’t decide what to do today. apparently)

OKAY it's 12pm and i'm back. i drafted this post and forced myself out of bed, gave the entire bathroom a good cleaning, straightened up the living room, cleaned all the trash out of my bedroom, put a honeysuckle cube in my wax melter, got some ice cream and now i'm back to finish yapping.

the storms seem to have let up and i Should get in the shower but now my back hurts and i'm tired bc i have enough energy for approximately 1.5 tasks per day. so i'll just stay greasy until tomorrow. and due to the way the shower drains in this dysfunctional house i'll still have to speedrun my shower even then, or manually drain the septic tank since the ground is so saturated with water rn. and god it's supposed to rain more in a few days.. this is not gonna be good for the mold and structural problems. sigh. anyways where was i. god this post got long i am just a yapping machine today aren't i? we're taking the 'public diary' tag to heart with this one, boys

okay i got dragged away to deal with some stupid shit and it's now past 1pm and the smell of the wax melt is threatening to bring my migraine back and making my throat hurt and the sugar from the ice cream is making me feel sick. so today is falling apart spectacularly as per usual and i will likely get nothing else done except the dinner i have to make. maybe i'll be able to force myself to brush my teeth before bed. i love being mentally ill it's great we have fun here. /sarc

i hate how i've only got 10 or so hours of energy in me these days even though i get plenty of sleep. i wanna go to beeeeed and the rain outside the window is lulling me. anyways. i Will finish this comically long vent post if it's the last thing i do today.

take a shot every time i say anyways.

o k a y. it is nearly 5pm. and i might, just maybe might, finally be able to sit down and finish this. i am now finally back at my desk with pain thrumming in my back and legs and knees and my tummy is grumbling. but the overwhelming honeysuckle smell in my room has dissipated and my migraine hasn't returned yet and at least i can relax in a nice quiet dark cool 63 degree room after spending hours in a loud brightly lit 78 degree environment. so that's something to be grateful for. god bless my AC unit

maybe one day i'll get the chance to live a life that's actually my own. but until then i suppose there's always escapism!

speaking of, all day i've had my new Venti fic on my mind. calling it a fic sounds too.. grandiose? but it's too big to be a oneshot. what do you call a ~20k word story split into a few chapters. 'novella' sounds way too fancy to be used for fanfic. 'short story' sounds generic and also implies that it's original content. i guess it's just a small fic. a mini-fic maybe. yet another oneshot that got way outta hand. his rerun banner goes live on the uh.. 16th i think. and if i lock in i Could get the fic ready to post by then. and i think i'd like to. but there's no telling what happens in my day-to-day life that might prevent me from doing so. and it's not like there's really any good reason that i'm trying to make the two things line up, i just like using arbitrary days and dates as a source of motivation ig. but we're getting a bit of a Mondstadt revival(!!!) in 5.6 so i could also wait until then and it would still feel kinda celebratory. but it's an angsty story so idk why i'm trying to pair it up with a happy day anyways lmao. his birthday is coming up on 6/16 so i've got 2 days and 10 months. .. god i'm more tired than i thought. okay nope lets try that again. i've got 2 months and 10 days to get either the last chapters of Heaven In Hiding or some other new little fic ready to go up if i wanna post something else for his birthday. or maybe my real life horrors will take precedence and i won't get anything finished in time. that's a very real possibility.

i've been getting the urge to write for ES and [N]MbD again too. and i finally played through the Banana Outrage quest from HSR 2.6 and am now sitting on several ideas for Boothill comfort and reverse comfort oneshots. and i feel like there was some other character i had an idea to write for but my tired brain cannot recall it, if it ever existed. i've been sitting on a finished Ghost Band Dew x Reader OCD comfort fic for aaages now but i'm. embarrassed about it bc i just bullshit.. bullshitted.. bullshat? my way through the entire premise/setup and i feel like it's silly or inaccurate bc i have. Zero idea how a ministry.. monastery?.. church? thingy?? like whatever exists in the Ghost lore actually works. like i'm not even trying to adhere to canon so i guess i have as much creative freedom as i want but i also feel like what i wrote is unrealistic even within the fanon interpretations. and Dew is probably ooc anyway.. so i've been toying with the idea of scrapping the whole thing and rewriting the fic for a third time with some other character from another media that i know better. but hhhhhhh maybe one day i'll just be brave and post it and let ppl make fun of me if it sucks. like i'm not nervous about the actual OCD-comfort aspect bc i know exactly how to handle that. but the world i set the scene in is one i am not familiar enough with. idk, it feels.. forced, to me. which is funny bc the original version of the fic was with Eddie Stranger Things instead 😭 same OCD comfort premise just. different blorbo in a different setting. but my fixation on him waned and i hadn't fully fleshed the scene out yet anyway so i just scrapped it and used the idea for a Dew Ghost fic instead. but i've sat on it for so long that that fixation has waned as well and now i'm like... do i keep recycling this stupid oneshot for different blorbos indefinitely or what? idk. it's Overthinking Hours rn i guess

my Point is that i hate how as soon as i tell myself 'No More Fics Until You Get A Damn License' i suddenly have ideas and motivation for ten different projects. and yes i know it's probably just my avoidance manifesting itself. wanting to busy myself with writing so i can feel productive while avoiding my greatest fears. but knowing that doesn't change that it's happening!! i am sitting here hyper-self-aware in a hell of my own creation!!

but i should know better by now than to think i can force myself to do something by denying myself other things. it always ends up with me just doing nothing instead. there is no force strong enough to motivate me until the consequences of inaction become genuinely unbearable. and brother i can bear a lot in the name of avoidance.

and it's not like the environment i'm in is whatsoever encouraging me. maybe i'd feel different about it if i had a safe, functional vehicle to drive instead of something that won't even pass the safety inspection. maybe i'd feel different about it if i knew it wasn't gonna run me another $100+ a month on insurance i can't afford and legally have to have. maybe i'd feel different about it if i had someone i liked and trusted that would be patient with me and encourage me every day and teach me everything i need to know instead of just. expecting me to magically obtain all of this knowledge bc i'm 'smart'. like. my father in christ the apple unfortunately doesn't fall that far from the dumbass tree. just because i know a few big words and can weave them together decently when i try real hard doesn't mean everything comes easy to me. i was never all that 'gifted' i'm just good at memorizing shit. i dropped out of school the very second shit got too hard. i have never in my life learned how to study anything. i am a spoiled little baby who never had to try hard and now if it doesn't genuinely hold my attention/pique my interest/fixate me or i can't memorize it within a very short period of time, any and all information will simply bounce right back off of my brain. so tell me how in the fuck i'm supposed to force myself to study something that i not only couldn't care less about, but actively fear. how do i do it.

'you do it scared' yeah yeah i know. i've heard. but unfortunately until the conces get closer to quencing and life forces my hand, i'm afraid i'm just gonna sit here maladaptively playing with silly little characters in my mind and miserably avoiding all my fears just like i have for the past decade.

anyways. what a day. it's 6pm so i've hit my 16-hour consciousness quota and wanna crash in bed but i should try to push it a little further so maybe i'll wake up at a more normal time tomorrow. and just as i figured it might, this unintentional day-long post has chronicled the often-occurring scenario where i stress out about how to spend my day and then the whole day just kinda slips away from me anyways and i don't get anything done that i wanted to. typical Sunday vibes i suppose.

while i won't be watching any shows or doing any writing tonight and don't even feel in the mood to do any gaming, mayhaps i'll linger on Tumblr for a little while longer and fill up my queue so i can feel like i at least did one of the things i thought about doing this morning. i do wish i were more consistently active on this blog bc believe it or not i Do love it here. i'm just often too tired to do just about anything but the bare minimum these days and sadly, blogging is not on that priority list.

but it's not often these days that i put so many of my thoughts into words like i have here and tbh i'm feeling kinda drained now so i might just work on a coloring page, eat my mashed potatoes and let my brain go quiet with some youtube video in the background. that sounds nice. /gen

goodnight, Tumblr.

[mystic-mae]

i need some motivation to do shit, so like... notes thingy i guess

100 notes - water consumption for the body. marching band season made me realize i dont drink enough fucking water out here. (alright, i guess i need water now... I WAS DRINKING TEA EARLIER. THATS CLOSE ENOUGH, RIGHT??)

200 notes - food consumption, i guess. i'll try to eat 3 full meals a day. enough to make my body full and stuff. (gods dammit. well, i already ate breakfast and lunch, and i have leftovers from lunch, so, i guess dinner's all set for me.)

300 notes - homework completion. i've been lacking in my homework game, and i definitely need to improve it this semester. (...i'll start my chem homework tomorrow since saturdays are my rest days, okay??? MOST OF MY WEEKEND HOMEWORK IS DONE BUT THANKS FOR CARING, CHAT)

400 notes - writing hobby. i need motivation to write lore for my dnd campaign (#runaway ruler dnd / #convict ruler dnd / #ruined ruler dnd universe if you want to follow along my shitposting for that) (i already started shitposting for runaway ruler again, so check it out. I WILL WRITE LORE FOR EACH ARC DONT WORRY IM JUST BARELY GETTING STARTED ON THE SECOND ARC SINCE ITS VERY LONG)

500 notes - animation gift. i'm making a little valentine's gift for my spouses, and it's gonna be 1:34 seconds long... I need motivation to actually animate lmao. (i'll do bits and pieces throughout the week. don't worry, i plan to figure this out [i haven't animated in months, and even then i barely scratched the animation surface])

1000 notes - script memorization. i uh... need to memorize my silly little script for a production coming up in a month. im performing in front of kids so like... the script's pretty short and easy. im the antagonist in my cast >:]. (sick, let's go. i love myself some memorization.)

2000 notes - chest binder shopping. i'll ask my parents if i can get a chest binder. ive been meaning to get one for myself for some time now. im getting desperate for one. (i suppose i'll ask today or tomorrow... or over the weekend- that's when most of the shopping happens, anyways.)

3000 notes - leaving the closet. i'll come out to the rest of my family that i'm trans, aromantic, all the nine yards about my lgbtq+ identities. i'll definitely have to schedule a good day to do that. (HELLO??? WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?? OKAY FINE I'LL FIGURE OUT A DAY. I'LL COME BACK TO YOU WITH THAT-)

4000 notes - researching possible colleges across my state and outside my state. because i wanna get out of here.

5000 notes - order a suit. preferably black or purple. because i need more gender affirming clothes in the formal department.

EDIT: do however many notes you want. i know i said 10 notes per person earlier, but like... go wild i guess

[allthatjazz416]

Husband!Nanami HC! 🤍

Headcanons! NSFW HCs are at the very end! Skip if you're not into it 💙 divider crdts:@/cursed-carmine Note: I'M SORRY FOR THE OTHER ONE. HERE! A PROPER AND SERIOUS ONE THIS TIME 🫶

Hubby!Nanami who proposed at home. No big spectacle, no audience. Just dim lighting, a home-cooked dinner (that he made), and a simple box placed next to your wine glass with a quiet, “You know I’d rather die than live without you. So. Would you?”

Hubby!Nanami who takes anniversaries seriously. Always has a plan. A gift. Not always flashy but meaningful. Once gave you a first eidition of your favorite book with a note tucked inside: "I love you. I always will. For the rest of my life."

Hubby!Nanami who cleans the whole house when you’re sick but pretends it’s no big deal. “You needed rest. I had time. No need to thank me. You’re still my favorite mess.”

Hubby!Nanami who keeps his wedding ring on during everything. Always. Even in fights. Even in the shower. Even when you’re arguing over who left the stove on. Even during sex. Especially during sex.

Hubby!Nanami who has a drawer labeled “Y/N’s snacks” in the kitchen because he noticed you like different things than him and didn’t want to mix your treats with his plain-ass crackers and protein bars.

Hubby!Nanami who wakes you up with forehead kisses on work mornings because he knows he’ll be gone before you’re awake. Sometimes leaves your coffee half-brewed so you can wake up to the smell.

Hubby!Nanami who secretly carries a picture of you in his wallet. A candid one you didn't even know he took. He just knows that’s what love to him looks like.

Hubby!Nanami who never yells during fights. He just stands still, breathing slow, asking quiet, painful questions like “Why are you pushing me away when I’m trying to understand you?” and god, it’s worse than shouting.

Hubby!Nanami who still blushes when you grab his ass in the kitchen. Grumbles “not in front of the soup,” but pulls you close anyway, hand on your waist like he’s still trying to court you after years of marriage.

Hubby!Nanami who would take a cursed wound for you without hesitation. Then apologize for it. “I didn’t want you to worry. Sorry for making you cry.” Blood-soaked shirt and all.

NSFW! 🤍

Hubby!Nanami who fucks like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your moans. Soft when you need him. Rough when he knows you can take it. Always with your pleasure first.

Hubby!Nanami who loves slow, dragging strokes when he's been away on missions. Just holds your legs open, one hand on your belly, watching the way your cunt grips him like it missed him. “There you are. Still fits me so well.”

Hubby!Nanami who prefers positions where he can see your face. Missionary with your wrists pinned. You riding him while he cups your waist. His eyes never leave yours, especially when you cum.

Hubby!Nanami who worships your body like it’s sacred. Kisses every mark, every stretch, every bruise. Loves your thighs. Loves your stomach. Loves making you look in the mirror when you’re full of him, shaking. “Don’t look away. This is what you do to me.”

Hubby!Nanami who gets jealous when you wear something too revealing in public—but doesn’t say a word. In public he'll protect you, but when you get home, he just makes sure to fuck you hard when you get home, pulling your clothes off with quiet precision and making you repeat whose cock you belongs to.

Hubby!Nanami who marks you up intentionally. Hickeys under your collarbone. Finger-shaped bruises on your hips. His cum leaking out of you for hours after. He doesn’t mind the cleanup. He likes it. It’s proof.

Hubby!Nanami who sleeps curled around you afterward. One arm under your head, one over your waist, your hand resting on his chest where you can feel the slow thud of his heart. You’re safe. Fucked-out. Loved.

Hubby!Nanami who always makes sure you cum first. Always. Fingers, tongue, cock. It doesn’t matter. He’ll have you shaking and drooling before he even unzips. And he’ll praise you for it. “Good girl. That’s it. You take me so well every time.”

The End! 💙

[bunny-jpeg]

i got a fever and the only cure is more john price!!

he fucks nasty, you thought that age would slow him down. but, no. you are worn out before he even breaks a sweat. years of training to his body has given him stamina like a bull. and he had the breeding balls to prove it!

you didn't mean to sleep with your captain, but now that he had you in his grasp. he wasn't loosening his grip, not until that belly got round and those tits got fat.

"was a big baby." he said, his voice tense as he pressing his cock down into you. he had you pinned under his hefty, hairy wait as his impressive (huge) cock battered your insides. prepping you to accept his thick cum. he had his bicep around your head and kept you pinned.

it wasn't even a full doggy style anymore, he just laid on top of you with his cock plugging your sweet pussy. your moans were pathetic, you were powerless to him.

"price's are grown quite big, big head and wide shoulders. but don't worry, i'll be there the whole time. makin' sure my woman is taken care of. carry them at your hip while i got ya pregnant with another." his licked his lips like a hungry dog at the thought of it all.

you thought it was just sick dirty talk by the way it made you pussy slicker. but price was laying it out as it was. he was going to breed you, you were going to have his children.

he is egged on by your moans. he had convinced himself that you were his wife, even though you had never even gone on a date before. you thought this was simple, on-base, casual sex. meanwhile price was trying to very blatantly baby trap you.

he chalked up your ignorance to you having better maternal instincts than actual smarts. but, that was alright, you were meant to be a mother anyway! don't worry, price will make it all better for his precious wife.

price wanted to see and document all the changes to your pregnant body, he wanted to see his child grow inside of you. proof that he had laid claim to him. then he'll set you up in a sleepy town in northern england and you can be his little wife.

you, him and the kids. maybe a guard dog or two to protect the property. gotta keep the family safe!

the sick, pervert thoughts overcame him like a wave as he drilled his cock into you. a promise that he was going to finish very soon. even if you wanted to escape, the weight on top of you and the blissed out mess in your mind prevented you from getting too far.

not until he got you pregnant.

when he creams inside of you. it's game over (sorry)! you thought that due to age and his lifestyle that his swimmers were next to nothing. but he'd been saving up. a long time without a hole to fuck had made his biology desperate to pass his genes along.

so when he got you in a headlock while he rocked up into you, spearing your pretty pussy open, get ready for motherhood (yay)! because even trying to sneak off to get plan b will do nothing. you waited too long or the pills were ineffective.

as he rubbed your swollen middle on the couch of the sweet little home you (he) owned, his face brushed up against your side. his facial hair tickled your bare arms. he'd tell you that it was a miracle before he kissed your swollen mound.

"you are a better mother than you ever were a private." he cooed at you as he invaded your space once more, "good mothers make strong babies and i'm aimin' for the 99th percentile" <3

[pennjammin]

run, rabbit, run

JJK HALLOWEEN! nanamixreader

summary ❥ you babysit for the wealthy single dad who lives across the street. it’s the end of october and his halloween party is the talk of the neighborhood. you’re not invited because the kids are out of town, but you decide to pop up on him anyway, and he shows you just how badly he’s been dying to get you alone without the children.

CONTENT: age gap, 86’d sorcery, dilf!nanami, toys, smut, alcohol, dom!nanami, cunnilingus, afab!reader, fluff, friends to lovers kinda, bossxworker, aftercare, slowwwww burn, reader wears animal ears during sex, breeding kink, spit kink, masochism.

word count. 10k

soundtrack 💿: eating - madeintyo

p.s. there’s a joke in here involving the color of 🐱; i know everyone’s is not the same color so , fill in the blank for the color that fits yours if u have one LOL

✩

You give your ass a good shake.

You’re making sure the long, fluffy tail poking out of your blue shorts isn’t going to fall out. It doesn’t.

You’re dressed as a fox, but not just any fox. A fox cop. You have on a short blue collared top, matching shorts, and of course you’d be no real cop without your utility belt housing fake handcuffs and a plastic baton. To top it all off, you’re wearing fuzzy fox ears on your head, and sheer tights to cover your legs.

You nod in the mirror, satisfied. But the real test, to you, is if Mr. Nanami will like it just as much.

Mr. Nanami is your employer, but more importantly, your neighbor. You watch his two young children five days a week; sometimes even overnight when he has a particularly busy work day. You consider yourself close with them, but your feelings about Nanami are a little deeper than that.

You’d seen him the first time a little under a year ago, when he’d been out on an early morning jog. From then, on you’d become disgustingly obsessed ever since.

Your schoolgirl pining only gets worse every time you see him, and recently you've even gone as far as trying to shamelessly flirt - but he seems to have absolutely no idea. That is the less painful explanation, the other being that he’s just not interested.

But you’re planning to see if you can get that to change tonight. You always dress sensible in front of his children; this will be the first time he's seeing so much skin. It has to work, right?

Tonight, Nanami is throwing the party of the century. He has house workers of all kinds who serve towers of food and delicious mixed drinks. The cherry is that his entire gated lawn has been decorated to the perimeter of fun inflatables and spooky decorations. You know it's mostly for his kids, whom he goes nothing short of above and beyond for.

However, he had informed you days ago that they would be out of town this weekend - and, even if they were not, he's off work, so he doesn’t need you. This means he also had not invited you to his party.

You clearly still intend to show up unannounced, a bold move on your part.

You lock up your house - a small, co-owned property that truly looks out of place across from Nanami's home - which he technically pays the rent for. You carefully make your away across the overcrowded street full of cars, decorations, and humans who are already half past drunk.

As you walk up the stone steps that lead to his front door, your stomach is keyed up. You shouldn't feel any different than you normally do when coming over for work, but you’ve really let this highly unprofessional crush of yours get out of control.

You make it to the porch. You're unsure if he will even hear the doorbell, but you press it anyway. The door slides open after about ten seconds, as if he has been standing there watching it. You feel your body freeze immediately upon seeing him.

Nanami is towering over you in the threshold. His face lights up almost instantly, but that's not all that has your heart threatening to crack open your rib cage; it's also his delicious white button down, popped open by a few to reveal tiny bits of blond chest hair, and then of course there are the long, white ears on top of his head.

“Why hello, officer, did we get a noise complaint?” He chuckles at his own dad joke before bowing his head in greeting. “Sorry, I’m just surprised to see you. I figured you would be thrilled to not have to look at these four walls for a few days while my children are with... their mother.”

You watch his face drop in disgust at the mention of his ex-wife, but he’s never said anything bad about her. Whenever you’d asked why things hadn’t worked out, he’d said "they just didn't." And that was that, but part of you aches to know what had happened.

It shouldn’t matter. He is not interested in you. He gives you a paycheck, and that is all.

"Well," you begin carefully, "Who would want to miss out on the most exclusive Halloween party of the year?"

This coerces a deep laugh out of Nanami, then he steps aside and allows you to walk in. He is holding a short rocks glass of unidentified brown liquor, and you can smell whatever it is in a cloud around him.

Once inside, Nanami’s voice is quite muffled from the clank of dishes and bustle of workers. The two of you stop to stand in the foyer, a grand crystal chandelier winking at you from above.

"Exclusive isn't the word I'd use," he says, following your eyes as he takes a sip. "Everyone and their mother is here. Literally." He tilts his glass towards an elderly woman who stands next to a redhead about Nanami's age.

You should be laughing at his joke but instead, your stomach knots grow tighter at the reminder of how many people his age are here preying on him, the neighborhood catch, with careers and homes of their own.

Nanami is seven years your senior, you think. No wonder he wants nothing to do with a young, non career-oriented thing like you when he has all of these sophisticated people crawling at his feet.

You can't think about that now, or the courage you’ve spent a week building will cease to exist.

"Heh - well, either way," you continue, "it's a big party. I know the kids aren't here, but-"

"But I'm glad you are," Nanami smiles, his eyelids hanging a little low from the liquor in his system. "You look very nice, darling. I like your ears."

He grins and points to his own headband. A grown and very, very large man dressed as something as vulnerable as a little rabbit has your nerves aflame.

"Hmm, I bet you do," you tease. “Like it so much you had to copy me?”

Nanami makes a disapproving sound with his tongue, leaning forward a bit to be eye level with you. "Copy you? I was unaware that rabbits and foxes were the same animal. In fact," he adds, "if I'm not mistaken, foxes are a rabbit's natural predator."

You had been trying to look away from him now that he has moved so close, but as the last sentence rolls out of his mouth, you make the mistake of looking directly into his eyes - and what you see makes your limbs jelly. Maybe it's your delusions, but he seems to be drinking you up equally as much as he is his liquor.

You laugh to pop the bubble of tension, but Nanami's face remains as still as ice.

"Well, I certainly don't think I pose a threat to you, sir," you say, voice unnervingly dry. "You are twice my size."

At this, his intense stare transitions into a soft smile. "You just have to get my guard down. Then, I'm sure a little thing like yourself would be able to have your way with me."

You blink quickly, assuming you've misheard him. Then again, though, he tends to say things that could be flirty - but he is just a naturally charismatic man. Means nothing.

"Ah," you mumble out, shifting your weight from side to side. You have to find a way to change the subject, but most importantly, you need get his attention off of you. You’d wanted it so bad, now you don’t know how to handle it. As you scheme, he sips his drink again, eyes still watching you over the rim of the glass.

"So... the kids always go with their mom on Halloween?" you ask abruptly.

Nanami quickly swallows his sip before shaking his head. "Well I had them for the Fourth of July, you recall."

You do recall. A little too well. Nanami in nothing but tight, black swim shorts and his signature sunglasses as he flipped meat over the grill - and you playing in his pool with the kids. He’d invited you to celebrate the holiday with him after his kids had begged, but your mind was definitely elsewhere. The memory popping into your head almost makes you not hear what he says next.

"We alternate holidays. So I will have them for Thanksgiving, she for Christmas," he shrugs a shoulder. "I would have traded Thanksgiving for Christmas, but alas. Christmas is always the busiest day of the year for me, so they would just miss out on time with their father anyway. I couldn't ask you to ditch your holiday plans for us, again, either."

He sighs. You feel your heart ache; he cares deeply about his kids, but he is definitely a workaholic. That is why you spend every chance you get at his house… well, that’s mostly why. But even then, you sometimes wish you stayed more to help, because Nanami works tireless double shifts, then spends his off days trying to make up for lost time with the kids.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," you say, attempting to comfort him. "You're an amazing father who is doing all he can. They love you so much."

He smiles and bows his head politely, so as to say thank you. "They love you as well. Sometimes, I think more than they do their mother."

You swallow a choke, before rutting out, “Surely not."

Before Nanami has the chance to reply, an older woman who you’d come to known as Agnes walks by with a large tray arraignment of bright green cocktails.

“Nanamin!” she shrieks out. “Where would you like me to put these? Very afraid of them falling. There’s drunkards crawling up the walls! I’ve already swept up sixteen broken glasses! Sixteen!”

You and Nanami turn to look at her with an equally astonished expression.

Nanami leans forward a bit to whisper in your ear, “My apologies in advance for her erratic behavior.”

Agnes is still staring wildly between the two of you as you giggle, awaiting further instructions from Nanami.

“Sit them wherever you think is safest,” he says calmly.

She huffs but ultimately takes his word, speeding off with her kitten heels clacking against the marble floor.

Nanami turns back to you and opens his mouth, but another voice cuts him off.

“Nanami, sir!”

You feel a twinge of irritation in your chest, but you really shouldn’t. He is the host and people need his attention. You should have seen this coming.

“Is everything okay?” he questions politely, turning to face the short brunette in front of him, who bats her eyelashes.

“I… I think that someone is fighting outside,” she says quickly, unable to keep eye contact.

Nanami is a smart man, though. “Oh? Well, what shall we do about that?”

“I thought you could run and stop them,” she says, twisting a piece of her hair around her finger, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m in no mood to be in the middle of a brawl,” he says sternly. “Have the butlers stop it, and remove them. You try not to get involved either.”

She huffs and spins on her heel, walking back through the living room with an angry stomp in her step.

Nanami clicks his tongue, “I really need to have her counseled in compulsive lying. She cries wolf so many times a day.”

You’ve never seen her before, she must be new. This makes you jealous all over again. She’s not quite as old as the rest of the workers, but still older than you. The issue is you see yourself in her, the uncontrollable pining over your shared boss. She just makes hers much more obvious.

Nanami clears his throat, and you notice too late how his hand has slithered to the small of your back.

“Perhaps we should escape somewhere more secluded, hm?” he says. “I really am enjoying our conversation. A shame we keep getting interrupted.”

You swallow thickly. The hair on your spine has raised at his sudden contact, making you shiver.

“Yes, that’s a good idea, sir,” you say, trying to hide how dry your voice has gotten.

Not another word is uttered before Nanami is swiftly whisking you off to another room; his hands now free of his drink and instead gently guiding you by his hand placement.

His gaze is not as focused on you as it is leading you both through the overwhelming crowd of people, and to the hall under the stairs that you know for a fact leads to his workspace. He moves his hands into yours as he gently pushes you ahead of him.

You take the lead and find yourself pushing open the big door to his study. Inside is a complete reflection of Nanami, his wealth and his cleanliness. Even his desk is free of papers, or any indication at all that he works in here.

You recall the days he works from home, in this very study, and he'd still be in his work suit, just minus the blazer. You'd let the kids sneak in on him, only once or twice thoughout the day, just to see his smile; and while you’re already there, you'd drop off a cup of hot coffee to help him plow through the rest of his shift.

He shuts the doors behind you both as you run to make yourself comfortable in his desk chair, spinning around like a child.

As you do so, you fail to see or hear his fingers slyly clicking the lock on the door.

“Much better,” Nanami breathes, moving to flick on a floor lamp in the corner, giving the study a soft, warm glow accompanied by the full Halloween moon. “Now, what were we discussing?”

“You, uh,” you clear your throat as you stop spinning in the chair to face him. “You really didn’t have to come in here just to talk to me. You are the man of the evening, you know.”

Nanami rolls his eyes, an out-of-character action you never thought you'd see, but one that looked so tasty, so sultry. God, you’re a pervert in heat - and your sweet, sweet boss is completely oblivious to the kind of horrible thoughts you have daily about him.

Nanami's now staring at you. His mouth is moving, but you have no idea what he had been saying.

"… to spend time with all of those shallow, insolent creatures,” you register, “when I have someone like you here?" He walks over to the desk and leans against it, right next to you now, as he crosses his arms over his massive chest. "We have never just sat down and talked. We always have little people depending on us or wanting our attention. Tonight, I’d like that to change.”

You let his words simmer for a moment. “What is it you’d like to talk about, Mr. Nanami?” you then question.

“What did I tell you about that ‘Mr.’ nonsense?” He frowns. “That makes me feel so old.”

"Sorry, sir," you gulp, not intending to upset him. You just can't help the way 'Mr.' and 'Sir' roll off your tongue, or how bad you enjoy seeing him shift uncomfortably at the use of the names.

"Meanie," he tuts, knocking you playfully with his leg. Another uncharacteristic action.

"What'd I do?" you blink, tilting your head as you look up at him.

"You mean besides drive me insane with your teasing?" he questions, before his eyes widen and he looks as though he's just spilled a secret. "I- wow, I am sorry. That is not what I meant to say."

"I drive you insane?" you echo. "I didn't even think you noticed my… teasing.”

Nanami's face is neutral, but his jaw is working under his skin. "I’m not naive, little fox." He lets out a breath. “This was truly an excellent costume choice.”

He leans forward and flicks the furry ear on your head.

“Thank you,” you smile. “I can’t say the same for yours. You hardly scream innocent bunny.”

“What about me isn’t innocent?” he raises a brow, standing off of the desk.

“I…” you blink as he walks around to the back of the desk chair. “You’re just, um…”

“Fox got your tongue?” he coos, spinning the chair so that you’re forced to face him.

You inhale a deep breath and hold it as heat travels through your stomach and right to the center of your thighs.

“You’re a man who is about his business,” you say. “I imagine you’ve… had a lot of life experiences,” you pause to remind yourself to breathe, but it’s hard because of how ferociously Nanami is staring into your eyes. “So you c-can’t be all that innocent…”

“You seem nervous,” he coos. “Here. Let’s stand up, I’ll sit down. Maybe that will help you to not be so tense, hm?”

Your body obeys before your mind catches on. You’re standing in a beat, and Nanami has replaced you on the chair. Your bottom hits the crease of his large desk, and you slam your hands down on the surface to balance yourself.

“Sorry,” you say, putting a hand up to cover your face. “I don’t mean to imply that you make me uncomfortable, sir.”

Nanami's pupils flash white, but it's gone so quickly, you might have imagined it. "If I do, please let me know immediately.”

“No,” you say, dropping your hand, “I just think we need to get to know each other better, right? Our entire relationship is through the kids. I know that your son’s favorite shade of green is kiwi, but I don’t even know your first name.”

Nanami chuckles at this. “You know, I was thinking exactly the same thing.” He taps your knee. “Kento, silly girl. My first name is Kento.”

"A-And your favorite color?” you continue, trying to ignore how close he’s moved the chair towards you, now that you have fully planted your bottom on his desk.

“Pink,” he says, serious as death.

You giggle. “Why pink?”

“It’s the color of my favorite thing to eat,” he says, slowly placing his arms on either side of your thick thighs, hands planted flat on the surface of the desk.

You think for a moment. “Strawberry ice cream?”

“No,” he cocks his blond head to the side and his eyes fall on your tights. “Try again.”

You pretend to think, though you fear you may be catching on now. “Hmm, dragonfruit?”

“Nah,” Nanami says, looking up at you through his eyelashes. His pupils have been dilated from the alcohol, but there is an unrelated darkness in his eye now. “Something I don’t even have to swallow.”

You gulp. “Oh,” your suspicions have been confirmed.

“Get it now, little fox?” he coos.

“Mhmm,” you taunt back. “Well, I suppose I came prepared with your favorite dish, then.”

“Did you?” His hands boldly make their way to the top of your thighs, barely hovering over the skin but enough to make the flesh there light on fire. “Prepared it all nice and pretty for me?”

“Yes sir,” you nod eagerly, feeling your own boldness appear as your knees slide further away from one another. “How do you like it?”

“Extra moist,” he grits hungrily, fingernails curving into your tights and shredding a thick rip! through the material.

You gasp, entire torso lurching forward as he drags the hole bigger and bigger.

“Sorry, little fox. They were in the way,” he shrugs an innocent shoulder. “And what should we do about these shorts? They’re in the way, too.”

“Then let’s get them off,” you whisper, hardly registering that such filth had been uttered.

This truly can’t be happening. Is Nanami… Kento Nanami actually going to eat you out? Are his hands really slithering up your waist and fumbling with the button on your shorts, or are you in some kind of sick daydream?

"Mr. Nanami-"

"Please," he holds up a hand, one still remaining on the button of your shorts. "Kento. Call me Kento."

"Kento," you echo softly, and his eyelashes flutter. “You really want to do this?”

Nanami sucks in a breath. Several moments of silence pass, then his fingers are gently pressing against your chin, and he has risen to tower above you. "Maybe it's the liquid courage in me that's pushing me," he says, "but I’m okay with that. I dream about you on my tongue, night after night. I need you, Y/N.”

Instead of allowing you to reply, Nanami's lips are assaulting yours in a flash. A harsh, irrational kiss from a man who's lost his battle of self control.

Your hands fly up to his face to balance yourself at the sheer force the shock of the kiss has on you. He groans softly into you as your lips mold together, getting used to the shapes of each other’s mouths.

You want to begin deepening the kiss, but Nanami is suddenly pulling away.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly. You look at his face; for a man who is always so calm and composed, he is flushed and even shaking a little. “I should have asked if that was okay.”

"Did you hear me complaining?" you ask sternly.

“No-”

“Then shut up and kiss me, Kento.”

He wastes no time obeying your command; this time as he kisses you, his hands find the soft skin where your hips crease into your thighs. You’re aware of your thighs rubbing against his stomach as he crawls further on top of you.

You slide your arms up around the back of his neck to hold onto him as his lips work pure ecstasy into your mouth.

You sigh against him and he digs his fingers into your sides to get you to do it again. Now his tongue is in your mouth, softly swirling your own, smacking fiercely on your lips as he does so.

You're panting now, but Nanami is swallowing your breath with every second. He's leaning his weight on his palm, so his body isn't quite attached to yours, but you want to make him lose his balance so he can crash down on top of you. Every moment that you stay like this, your cunt drips wetter and wetter, seeping through your shorts onto his desk.

"So perfect," Nanami utters into your mouth, "s'much sweeter than I deserve."

You frown at his self deprecation but don't comment, instead your hands start sliding down his chiseled back, exploring the deep ridges and shapes of pure, hard muscle.

Then, plop! You blink in shock as his bunny ears have fallen plum onto your face, nearly gauging out your eye.

"Oh," he gasps, breaking away from you. "Forgot about these."

He pulls away from you, standing upright but staying between your legs. You swallow a needy whine at his absence, before sitting up with him, staring expectantly.

"Think they'll look better on you though, huh, darling?" he coos, reaching over your head and plucking your fuzzy ears off. Then, he’s replacing them with his bunny ears. "There, that's more fitting. I feel much more like the hunter than the hunted.”

You tilt your chin defiantly. "Mm, so I'm just an innocent rabbit in the sights of a dangerous hunter?"

“Clever bunny,” Nanami murmurs, leaning forward and catching you by surprise with a wet kiss at the nape of your neck. You shudder. “Time for me to eat my latest catch, hm?”

“I-I guess so-”

“Oh, don't get shy now, bunny,” he mewls against your ear. “Do you want to do this?”

You pretend to consider it, but your dripping hole has already answered for you. "Yes, sir."

Nanami purrs in response and taps your earlobe with his perfect teeth - before you're being shoved back on the flat surface. Three quick beats occur. Beat, shorts off. Beat, tights off. Beat, panties sliding slowly down your legs.

"God," he says, hooking his fingers over the trim of the panties, which are light blue in color, accented by an adorable pink bow in the front. "All this time, I could've had you like this, if only-” he cuts himself off to lean down and place a kiss to your inner knee.

Your nerves send repeated quivers over you. You dig your nails into the desk, but your palms are so sweaty that your hand slips. Nanami catches you, a heavy hand on your lower back, the other hand entangling in your panties and proceeding to rip them all the way off. Your clothes are now in a discarded pile to the right of you, fuzzy tail and ears a reminder of what got you into this position in the first place.

“Well we can make up for lost time now,” you whisper, sliding your feet farther apart until your knees are angled into the air - gaping pussy winking up at Nanami.

His eyes nearly jump from his body as he watches you open up for him, glistening cunt all in his face. He's sinking back down into the chair before either of you really processes it, and his heavy palms fall flat on your inner thighs.

"She's s'pretty, sweetheart," he coos, the breath from his words tickling your clit and making you writhe pathetically. "Haven't even touched you yet. Why are you shaking?”

You whine out in embarrassment. Something about your most perverted fantasies coming alive before you, Nanami talking to you like this, and him staring directly at the forbidden parts you'd never thought he'd see, is depleting your confidence.

"What's wrong, bunny?" he asks, reading your expression. "You look like you are second guessing this."

"N-No!" you cry out, making him jump, before you sigh. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell. No, I want to. I'm just embarrassed."

"Why?" he perks a brow, astonished.

"Because you're so..." you huff uncomfortably, "fine, and here I am, of course anyone would be embarrassed of their own genitals, y'know I just kind of never expected this and-”

"Y/N," Nanami interrupts. "I've seen plenty of these before; all different types, sizes and colors. I am going to devour you regardless of what you think.”

You swallow thickly. Your head nods like a puppet, though you're unsure if that's you saying you understand, or telling him to go ahead.

While you're deciding, Nanami plants a kiss to your bikini line, then slides his hands to wrap his arms around your thighs so that it's now impossible for you to close them. Your stomach is on fire, and you're on the verge of gyrating your pelvis right into his stupidly perfect face.

"Tell me you want this, bunny," Nanami rasps, placing another loud kiss to your inner thigh.

"I want this," you confirm again, "want you."

You don't have to say anything else because his mouth has already found your clit. Warm breath travels between your folds as he keeps his tongue narrowed out to swirl agonizingly slow circles over the bulb.

Your hips convulse against his strength. It does nothing except prompt Nanami to flatten his whole mouth over your heat and pick up speed with his tongue.

"Oh, ohh," you drawl, your hands leaving the desk surface and going right through his fine hair. His hold on you ensures you can’t fall backwards, but you’re gripping his roots for dear life.

He grumbles against your cunt and you feel it all the way up to your ovulating uterus. The desire to have your womb house more of his children starts to enter your brain and you have to remind yourself that this is just sex.

Oh, but it's so much more than that. Nanami's taking his time to work your body, to know exactly which pace makes you cry out like a pathetic fucktoy, noting when you wriggle under his grip, as he pushes his fingertips into the flesh on your legs.

His warm tongue keeps your puffy lips parted effortlessly; lathering you up with his saliva, drinking in the fluid your body creates more of each second.

You sit up farther to look down at him; his eyebrows are furrowed and focused, his cheeks hollowed as he treats your twitching clit like his tongue’s dance partner.

He swirls, flicks, slurps - each variation unlocking a new noise from you as you fight back your orgasm.

As you watch him, your fucked-out, needy brain begins to tell you would give him whatever he wanted in this moment; six children and a house from scratch if that's what he requested. Because he deserves it; the way his tongue’s now dipping slightly into your desperate hole, making your hips jerk from the desk until he counter-forces them with his hands.

"Where do you think you're going?" he snaps, grazing his teeth over your clit.

You can’t even speak; he’s eaten your voice right out of you. His head shakes side to side as he plants his mouth back on you and peers up through his blond lashes, daring you to pull that stunt a second time.

Your hands are still deeply entangled in his roots, but at this point you can't keep your eyes in the front of your head. Your head lolls back on your neck as your hips twitch with an unholy amount of momentum. Your moans are growing dangerously loud; knowing full well there's an entire party nearby, as well as the possibility of nosy maids. Not that either of you care.

"Kento, s-so good," you lament, bucking your hips into his chin as if you could chase more pleasure than he's already giving you. The heat in your stomach is the first indication that your pleasure is morphing into an orgasm, but you don’t want to cum yet.

You want to try and run again, just to give yourself a little time to catch up…

The minute Nanami feels your hip bones sliding away from him, he pulls his mouth off of you; your orgasm slipping away. You take a deep breath in regret.

“Someone must not want to cum,” he taunts, keeping his mouth close to your trickling cunt. “Need you to stay still.”

“I can’t,” you breathe, trembling.

“Try for me?” Nanami requests softly, lifting your thighs into the air before plopping your feet flat on his shoulders.

He plants a heavy kiss to your clit after the adjustment in your position and you dig your toes into his back.

“F-For you,” you repeat mindlessly, brain officially scrambled like a breakfast platter.

“Mmh-” Nanami grunts, planting his fat tongue back between your slick folds, working his jaw intensely to finish pulling the orgasm out of you. He sticks the narrow tip back at your hole, flicking the rim of the inside as if it’s his purpose for living.

Your toes lift into the air as Nanami tests your flexibility, pushing your knees next to your ears. With the pressure built up in your stomach, you barely have time to mutter out the announcement of your orgasm before you're cumming all over his tongue and clenching your walls around the wet muscle.

"Give it to me, bunny," he moans, words muffled because of the way you're gripping his tongue with your pussy.

You keep shaking for a solid thirty seconds, because he is refusing to take his tongue out of you. When finally you’ve calmed to a slight twitch, he removes his face from between your thighs and the entire lower half of his face glistens in the light.

"That's one," he murmurs to himself, crawling back over you to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. "You did so well. You taste so sweet, bun.”

"Can I return the favor?" you ask needily, dragging your palm down his chest.

He grinds his pelvis across your lower half, so that you can feel the sheer length of his bulge beneath his pants. "What for?"

Your eyes widen at just how large it feels; surely it's smaller than it appears.

"Wanna please you, sir," you babble out, watching his eyebrows furrow at the self-proclaimed pet name.

"Hm, think that ship sailed long ago,” he chuckles, rubbing his clothed dick against your inner thigh this time, and now, you take notice of the warm trail of precum that’s leaked through his pants onto your skin.

You dig your nails into his chest instead of replying. He bites back a groan and kisses your neck.

“I’m going to have to restrain you if you want’a keep being so touchy," he whispers sternly.

"I do have handcuffs," you say, following it with a giggle. Though you’re only half joking.

"That's cute," he mewls. "You think I need handcuffs to restrain you?" He pauses. "What's that you said? That I'm twice your size?"

You swallow thickly, remembering that you had, in fact, said that.

"So I can, and will easily pin you down, bun," he continues. "Don't act up, and I won't have to, yeah?"

You wish you can say you won’t, but if he thinks you dislike the idea of being pinned down, he must not be faking his innocence, like you’d thought.

A moment later, he's standing away from you, and his hands expertly unbutton his shirt. You watch him with desire, and he smiles a little shyly at you as he shrugs off the garment and tosses it to the floor.

“Funny, you’ve seen me shirtless before,” he says suddenly. “Why do I feel a bit nervous about it this time?”

You giggle and cock your head to the side, legs still spread wide. “Should’ve always felt nervous. I’m a huge pervert, y’know.”

Nanami dips his head before coming back to be close to your body again, his fingers mindlessly tugging on the hem of your shirt now.

“I know,” he whispers. “A little minx, you are.”

“Took you long enough to realize it, hm?” you tease as you lift your arms to assist him in removing the shirt. But you are caught off guard when he doesn’t continue.

"You're still sure you want to do this?" he questions, changing the subject. “I'm sorry. I'm going to ask a hundred times, it’s just a habit.”

"Yes, Kento," you rasp frustratingly. "Do I have to get on my knees and beg to be fucked for you to get it?"

He blinks, stunned, as if that is not something he ever considered; but does sound appealing to him.

"No," he says quickly, slowly lifting your shirt further over your body. "How did we end up here, hm? Was this your plan from the moment you crashed my Halloween party?"

"Uh-uh," you say innocently, as he pulls the shirt over your head. Now you sit completely naked in front of him - save for the bunny ears on your head.

"I get the feeling you're a big, fat liar," he teases, leaning back over you, now your stomachs are touching and everywhere your skin meets is tingling. "Didn't I tell you to be a good girl? Good girls don't lie."

“‘M not lying," you argue. "Admit you were over here waiting for me to show up all night."

"Maybe I was," he murmurs, dragging his top teeth over the connection between your neck and your shoulder before planting a wet kiss on your collar bone. "And you came for me, like always."

A gasp erupts from your throat and Nanami cuts it off by sliding his hand there. He uses his fingers to apply the gentlest amount of pressure to the sides of your neck and your body arches against him.

"Tell me if anything I do is too much for you, little fox," he coos in your ear before dropping his hand from your neck and standing back straight to quickly unbuckle his belt.

He slides the garment out of his belt loops, and discards it to the side, on top of your clothes. So in other words: close by.

"Kento," you pant, "please."

"Please what?" he questions, raising a brow innocently as he pops open the button to his tight pants - visibly taking a deep breath as his bulge pokes free.

"You're dragging this out," you whine. "I've needed you for so long. This is torture."

"So what?" he shrugs, allowing his pants to fall to the floor, where he steps out of them.

"I..." you cut yourself off with a frustrated grunt.

"You said please, but you aren't using your words, little fox.” He slides his body back over yours - his boxers now being the only barrier between you. "What do you want?"

"You, your cock, your mouth," you pant all of it out in one quick sentence. "I... I just need you inside of me, Mr. Nanami."

Your breasts rub against his hard chest, teasing your achingly hard nipples. Just so pathetic. Can’t control yourself. Your brain's swirling with desire and ecstasy for him. If he can't read your mind, you're sure he can see it in your face.

"Okay, sweetheart," he says, voice returning to its usual softness, "you got me. All yours."

He tugs his boxers down quickly, desperately. Now your hips are aligned to each other's. He's still hovering, his cock not even touching you yet. He slides a hand between your legs as his other keeps you steady, gripping harshly on your hip which is sure to leave a delicious bruise.

Your arms wrap around his neck and he drags his mouth across your jaw before attaching his lips to your neck. His fingers gather the drip from your hole, and then he slides them up through your folds and to your clit. He swirls the fingers softly, keeping his ear right next to your mouth so that he can hear exactly what he’s doing to you.

Your legs shake against his ribs while you moan for him, and he grunts as he takes in all of your body's reactions to his touch.

He goes to try and put a finger in your cunt but you grab his wrist. He does not argue with you, which should be a red flag, but you think you’ve won until he takes the hand he had been using to play with you and grips your wrist, yanking it back, and your entire body goes falling against the desk.

Somehow, both of your wrists are being pinned to the wood in one large hand now. You whine and squirm under him, but he doesn't care. His free hand grabs his cock.

He takes the heavy tip and taps it against your clit several times, each time causing you to gasp and arch against him.

"That's right," he whispers above you. "No escaping now, bun."

You blink up at him, lifting your hips to grind your pussy on him, which causes his lips to part and his eyebrows to furrow.

You open your mouth, tongue flying out, wanting to appeal to another twisted fantasy. “Need your spit,” you mumble shyly.

He seems to ponder for a moment before he realizes what exactly it is you are asking, and a moment later he is leaning forward, dripping a warm glop of saliva from his mouth down your throat.

“Mmh-” you moan as you swallow happily, before looking down between your legs where he is finally done lubricating himself on your juice. He's staring at you hopelessly, as if he’s thinking that putting his cock in you isn't going to be enough.

“So nasty,” he coos, “ready for me, sweetheart?”

"Hngh- please," you beg.

Not a second later, hot pressure is at your hole. Nanami slides his hips upward to push himself deeper, deeper, deeper - the girth feeling like it's going to simply rip you in half.

You shriek and shut your eyes tightly, waiting for the pain to pass. It doesn't.

You feel so embarrassed as he takes his free hand to lift up your left thigh, because pain shoots up through your stomach - and not the good kind.

"Ah- wait," you cry out, eyes falling open.

Nanami stops immediately. "What's the matter?"

"It... it hurts," you admit shyly, biting your lip. "Wh-Why d'you have to be so big?"

"Why d'you have to be so tight?" he chuckles back, but carefully slides out of you. "Hang on. I know what will help, little fox."

He pulls away from you, letting go of your wrists to lean over and dig into a random drawer in his desk. You have no idea what he could possibly be doing until he stands back straight, a hand still holding up your leg, while the other holds a small, light pink, bullet-shaped rubber object.

"Brand new," he says, eyeing it as he rotates it between his fingers. "Just put batteries in it."

You swallow as you realize what this implies. He knew he was going to fuck you - or at least, that he was going to use this toy on you at some point. Or, a third worse thing: it hadn't been for you at all.

You don’t want to think about that possibility, though.

He hands the little toy to you, a small buzz coming from it already.

"Hold it for me," he instructs. "I need my hands to keep my prey from running."

You gulp and do as he says, and again he is taking his cock head and pushing it against you, before it slides through the gummy entrance and you cry out again.

You hold the toy to your clit and the feeling travels straight through your veins. You focus on the vibrations and before you can even inhale again, your insides are completely full.

"Deep breaths, bun," he grunts, "feel her o-opening up… now.”

Did he just stutter? Kento Nanami, who's always so composed. You'd made him lose his wording. You.

Nanami takes his hands and pulls your knees up, holding them to his sides, while you keep your hand occupied on the little bullet between your legs.

The combination of the toy plus his cock filling you up and molding your walls against it has you aching to spill over, already.

Now that the searing has begun to dissolve, his cock is gliding effortlessly inside of you - feeling as though the organ was crafted to fit you perfectly. Your juices cover every inch of him, delicious squelches creating a symphony with your moans as Nanami's pace quickens.

He has his hands still pressed on your thighs but he leans forward and gently pulls a nipple into his warm mouth. You don't know what to do with your free hand, so it ends up on his back, nails mercilessly breaking open his skin. He hisses and nips your nipple between his teeth.

"Fuck. Me," he groans, pulling away from your chest to look down at you. You want to make a comment about how you already are, but he just looks so fucked out - so vulnerable. Lips puffy and wet, eyes shut tight, hair dangling over his forehead.

He’s ruined.

He claws his fingers into your outer thighs. His fingers dig so hopelessly into you as his cock swirls your insides, his hips now moving in a rhythmic wave motion.

Your hand falls away from your clit with the toy and you hardly notice that it's gone because now, his pelvis is brushing over it, sweat practically gluing the two of you together.

"Aw," he purrs, and you look up to see that his eyes are staring directly between your legs. "You’re creaming all over me. Shit - your cunt looks so good, swallowing me up.”

Your face heats and you take your hands to grip his arms, as he's now drilling into you so torturously that you're gliding up the desk - the sweat on your back making your skin slick. He notices you're moving away and shifts his hands to grab your hips, holding you down onto him, and now his fat tip is violating your cervix.

"H-Hah Kento, ngh - God," is all you can manage to say, but there’s nothing holy about what his cock is doing to you, as he angles himself upward, attacking your uterus from a new direction.

You shriek, so horribly loud. It sounds like a horror movie - which is fitting. You’ve nearly forgotten that it’s Halloween night; the moon full, your passions like the tides, being pulled to their peak.

You desperately feel a needy confession on your lips but you know that now isn't the time. You can't love a man you don't date... right? But you definitely love the way he's tearing up your insides, sure to leave you swollen and limping.

"I don't remember telling you that you could remove your hand," he snaps, realizing you’ve removed the bullet, "put it back. Now."

You shake your head, begging for mercy. "Was too much, c-can't take it."

"Yes you can," he whispers, leaning forward and hovering his mouth over yours, cognac-scented breath teasing your parted lips. "Put it back, or I stop."

You whine and obey, the vibration revisiting your clit making your body convulse against him.

"Mhmm, like that sweetheart," Nanami coos, staring at you as your face twists every couple of seconds from the introduction of new kinds of pleasure. "Stick that tongue back out for me."

Your mouth is open, drool practically spilling out of the sides in a millisecond. He's spitting another alcoholic saliva drop into your mouth the next.

His breath is ragged as he drags out, "Thought I knew everything. But y’teaching - hah - me new things. Like how I can never live without your pretty pussy, ever again."

You quiver your lip and dig your nails into his back again, ready to cum on his cock.

"S-Stop talking like that," you grit out. "G-Gonna cum if you don't stop."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" he questions harshly. "You can cum over and over. I’m not finished with you."

You shake your head, but before you can fire back, Nanami is suddenly sliding himself out of you. You panic and sit up, staring at him with wide eyes as he drops to sit on the chair.

His hands come up to grab your hips roughly, and he's effortlessly pulling you down off of the desk. Your stomach makes contact with his thighs as he lays you over his lap like a disobedient child.

"Nanami?" you breathe, but he doesn't seem to hear you at all.

"We just needed to pause for a second," he says softly, running a hand down your spine and over the hill of your ass. His voice is very misleading, as are his gentle gestures; you have no idea what's coming.

"N-No," you whine, "I was so close."

"But, naughty bunny, didn’t you tell me to stop?" he questions, distracting you from the fact that his fingers are sliding between your asscheeks and down to your swollen hole.

You jerk in his lap as two of his fingers glide down your slick, parting your thick lips, repeating the process several times just to watch you squirm.

“Y-Yes, but-”

“What’d I tell you about lying?” he grits, and a blink later his fingers have parted from your skin.

You turn to scold him and his hand cracks down on the back of your thighs.

You yelp, but the action exhilarates you in some kind of disgusting way.

“Oh, and here’s another for calling me Nanami,” he spits, another crack landing on your backside but this time - higher, and harder.

“K-Kento, I’m sorry,” you whine, but you truly don’t want it to stop. Your fingers dig into his leg and he hisses, his cock jerking against your stomach as his body responds.

“How sorry, bun?” he coos, voice faking softness before another pop! of his palm stings your skin.

“I’ll be good, promise,” you whisper, arching your hips up to encourage another smack.

“You like this, don’t you, naughty bunny?” he realizes suddenly, and you try to shake your head in denial - but he’s caught on. “Hm. I’ll only accept your apology if you give me two more orgasms. Deal?”

“Two?” you cry. “I-I’ve already had one!”

“Good things always cum in threes, baby,” he murmurs, running his hand over the pretty hand-shaped welps he’s left on your skin. “You can give it to me. You want to be good, don’t you?”

You don’t know when the shift happened, but you loved it. You loved how he was letting his soft facade crumble to the ground so that he could truly slap you around like you were just a hole. Truthfully, that’s all you wanted to be. Wanted to let him take out the stress of being a single father on your guts, fill you up with more babies to care for, and then kiss you on the forehead when it was all done.

Pathetic. This is still your employer, your boss. And not to mention how much older he is. You don’t care, but you’re unsure if he does.

“I wanna cum again, please,” you beg, wriggling your ass up to show him you still needed punishment.

He groans before his two thick fingers are pressing between your lips and then, shoving through the soft ring at your center.

Your body shamelessly arches, but he allows your arms to stay free, clawing into his skin wherever you can get a grip.

Nanami is making his own noises above you but you’re on the verge of tears, wailing and carrying on as he fucks you with his fingers, curling the tips into your squishy ridges to try and drive the cum out of you faster.

“Maybe we should get one of those tails with a plug,” he comments, tone implying he’s thinking out loud. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to see you in your cute little tail while I fuck you.”

“Hngh - no, mmh…” you don’t even know what noises to make anymore. Words escape your brain.

Nothing but mush and the burning of your approaching orgasm are on your mind.

“Hold it in for me,” Nanami requests suddenly, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready for it, sweetheart.”

“God,” you shake your head and clench your thighs, but Nanami’s strong hand forces them back apart.

Your toes curl on the other side of the chair, your head falling forward. The pulse in Nanami’s cock is still drumming against your abdomen, as if knocking on your tummy to threaten you to hold your orgasm.

“I-I can’t,” you say, “Please, can I-”

“Cum.”

Nasty, wet squelches don’t stop as your body sends you over the edge. Your vision blacks and you shake so hard that you nearly roll right to the floor.

He hums approvingly, slowing his fingers down as you clench around them. “Good job, bun. Only one more to go.”

“I can’t take another,” you shake your head, as he gently guides you up into a sitting position on his lap.

“You’re so strong,” he says, “the perfect person for me. The way you always take care of me and the kids, how you fit so effortlessly into our little family. I know you can do this for me, sweetheart. Let me repay you for all that you do for us. Make you feel good.”

You hadn’t expected this little speech. It almost brings you to tears as Nanami gently rubs your back, sliding his free arm underneath your legs to lift you princess-style back onto the desk.

“Say something,” he begs, his voice hoarse.

“I wanted to be good for you,” you grin softly, and he smiles back as he runs his hands gently over the top of your legs. “But you want to be good for me. Which is it?”

“Both,” Nanami whispers. “I told you that you already do everything that keeps me content. Now, I want to please you.”

You realize that he is passing his power off to you. Letting his dominance slip through his fingers and right into the palm of your hand. You think you can handle being in control for your final orgasm, so you grip him harshly by his cock and scoot your ass to the edge of the desk.

He moans so softly that it could have been a whimper. You take his curvy length and drag it up to be aligned with your hole.

“Is your cock alone gonna please me, hm?” you purr, swirling your hips to tease his cock head, salty precum spreading across your hole.

“Y-yes ma’am,” he mutters, body lurching forward as if he’s the overstimulated one.

“Prove it,” you quip, shoving him back inside of you before pushing your hips down onto him.

You furrow your eyebrows to try and pretend the pain of him entering isn’t still intense. You lift yourself off of your palms and feet, using them to fuck down onto his twitching cock.

“Hah - Y/N,” he speaks your name in two sultry syllables, putting his hands on the desk to fully release his control as you use him.

“Baby, I need to fill you up,” he continues, “b-but if you don’t want me to…”

“Yes,” you say, “want me to have your babies, Mr. Nanami?”

“Oh,” he whimpers, “shit. Shit, don’t say stuff like that.”

You whirl your hips on him in the shape of an ‘O.’

“Want to breed me?” you continue. “Make me all big and pregnant?”

“That’s enough,” he snaps suddenly, hand clamoring down on the belt that is to your side, before he grips the garment in his hand. He sits up from where he’d been leaning on you, before taking the leather and slithering it around your neck, pulling it through the buckle, and yanking it towards him like you’re just a pathetic bitch on a leash.

“You had your fun,” he grits, “now you need to remember your place, bunny. I’m going to fill you to the brim until your cunt can’t take anymore and it drips back out of you, got it?”

“Mmh,” you pull against his belt as your hips are no longer the once controlling the pace. “Nanami, n-nooo…”

Your voice tapers off as he fucks you, fucks you so good and hard and mean until you’re drooling and crying and shaking and hissing and-

“Cumming!” you scream, but Nanami shows no signs of slowing down.

“That’s it,” he says. “Number three. What about four?”

“Y-You said…”

“Oh, you’re the only one who gets to lie around here?” he chuckles, a deep hypnotic sound that vibrates against your chest. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m gonna - ngh” and one viscid moment later, Nanami begins to shudder, and it is the beginning of the end.

You cannot tell if you are mourning or rejoicing the conclusion of this insane chain of events, but you forget all about it when Nanami is spurting hot semen all over your taut, spongey walls - that are now sore and quivering from the excessive abuse.

Your name leaves his lips in between the sultry noises he makes, and his body jerks on top of you until he’s finished spewing his load. Now, he stands in front of you with his head dipped down as he pants for several seconds.

“Do you understand how addicting you are?” are the first words that leave his lips after he is able to drag his head up to look at you.

You’re focused on your own huffing as you try to come up with a witty response, but with your brain so fucked out, the only thing you can mutter is “Oh, Kento.”

He nestles his sweaty face into your neck and plants a feathery kiss there, reminding you that he is still the same gentle Nanami that tucks his children in bed at night and drinks green tea in the garden.

He is everything you have dreamed of, but the sex had truly sealed it. Now, as he slips out of you and his cum follows soon after, you feel your post-high clarity morphing into embarrassment at the fact that all you’d been feeling is lust; Nanami deserves so much more than that, including his recognition as a father.

“Why are you staring at me? Have I still got your nectar on my face?” he jokes, and you admire his ability to loosen the tension.

“I’m sorry,” you say meekly, “I just think you are amazing. I don’t want you to think I really did just come for some cock.”

At this, he laughs so hard that his torso shakes. You smile, as it is rare to hear, and you are the cause of it.

He grabs his shirt and begins to use it to wipe himself off, then does the same for you, his movements intentional and gentle as he cleans you up, rubbing all of the puffy, red reminders on your body softly.

“I don’t think that,” he says with a crooked smile. “But whatever the case, I do hope that things have… changed between us.”

You scoff. “I should hope so,” you tease, tilting your head as he stops his hands on your body. “I hope you’re not going around making every person who comes near you cum three times in one sitting and expect to just be friends.”

He grins. “Nah, that treatment is reserved for you, bun.” His hands slide up your hair and pat the fuzzy ears on your head. “We should keep these around, though. But I’d like to take you out before we use them again.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring his face to yours, planting a gentle kiss on his nose. “Of course. You did say good things come in threes,” you grin. “The sex was one. The date will be two. What’s three?”

And your question gets answered nine months later, when Nanami proposes to you on a white beach in another country.

…Right before you go into labor.

But of course, once the baby is out, it’s time to start on number 4 the following Halloween.

A/N 2.0

ty all sm for the love on this series so far i’m rlly havin the time of my life writing all these twisted monster-fucker stories ^.^

~ pennjammin