#so it’s a DOUBLE PLAGIARISM

[overlyemotionalbreakfastcereal]

an interesting side effect of the hbomberguy plagiarist duology is i think about credit a lot more. where is this reposted from? who made this originally? why is someone trying to claim it as theirs? even if it’s stupid memes someone’s sending to me, i want a link. someone put work in for that even if it was three minutes in a meme template generator. idk it’s just something i’ve noticed about myself lately

[sukirichi]

PLEASE STOP COPYING FICS ‼️

I am by no means gatekeeping concepts or tropes. We all know that it’s normal to see the same tropes or AUs be used differently, and that is not plagiarism. However, I recently found a fic that was oddly similar to my old (and discontinued) Gojo x Reader series, Reckless. The CEO! Gojo is nothing new, and neither is an accidental pregnancy trope. The only reason I am concerned is because this Gojo series I found has the exact same themes as Reckless that consists of: a playboy CEO Gojo with a very notorious reputation, a poor reader who is an employee and asset to the company (someone who works closely with Gojo), reader getting knocked up from a one night stand with Gojo, reader with a seemingly dead/absent mother yet still in contact with her father, Gojo with a very traditional family who does not like reader, and Gojo with an ex he struggles to let go of - which are all elements of Reckless.

The first chapter of that Gojo fic is also eerily similar to my first chapter with the same flow of: YN finding out she’s pregnant and her friend being there for her, Gojo saying he’ll take responsibility because ‘they both made the baby’, YN having to move in with Gojo to take care of the baby, and both of them coming to a mutual agreement that their ‘relationship’ will be purely for the baby’s benefit. The flow of events and specific details about the characters’ backgrounds are too similar to mine.

Again, I am not gatekeeping concepts, just as how I’ve had other writers ask me if they could write their own stories or takes based off of the NAOYA’S TROPHY WIFE COLLECTION or the BONTEN HUSBANDS EXCLUSIVE, and I’m fine with that. I’m even happy people are inspired by what I write. But being inspired is completely different from taking someone’s story and posting it as yours. Please trust your own creativity and skills in writing. You can write amazing stories and have people love them without having to steal from others.

It’s sad to say this is not the first time I, and other writers, have been plagiarized. It’s even more upsetting to know that a friend of mine who has also written a Gojo series (that I’m sure you all know and dearly love) experiences the same issues with the same person. The fact that this is happening to many writers out there is disheartening. We work hard and pour a lot of love in the stories we create. None of us are getting paid for this, and we simply want to share our passions with others. So please, let us be kinder with one another and show love and support the right way. If you love a fic, you give feedback and rb/comment + show support to the writer. You don’t steal their ideas and play it off as your own because you liked it.

[polyshodivorce]

Happy birthday Emu. My personal idea for how the Wonder Stage might be used after WxS disbands and Emu starts getting more hands on with running Phennyland is dedicating the stage as a starting place for beginners. People normally audition at PxL for the bigger troupes, but there will always be the ambitious amueturs who have that potential and passion but didn’t quite make the cut for the big stages. That’s where Emu comes in and offers them an opportunity at the Wonder Stage, just like she had given Tsukasa.

It’s to help people get on their feet and into the acting/performing scene but without the same pressure and expectations that come with joining larger troupes. Unlike WxS, the new troupes at the Wonder Stage don’t have to deal with all of the hurdles Emu and her friends had. Back then, it was entirely up to the four of them to keep that stage running, but now Phennyland is well off. She’ll cover everything, advertising, props, maintenance. It leaves the troupe with nothing to worry about and total freedom to manage their own shows/schedules how they want. The real focus and goal of the Wonder Stage is to help beginners build up some experience, to help nuture passions that might have previously never gotten the chance, to be somewhere accepting that brings any ideas they wish to life and then… Emu makes it her personal goal to help each and every one of them find opportunities at bigger stages or bigger roles outside of the Wonder Stage. It’s a starting line. She doesn’t have to be scared of her Grandpa’s stage being torn down anymore, so she’s made it into a safe place for people to grow with the goal in mind… that they will someday outgrow it, but that’s not a bad thing and it’s nothing to fear, not anymore. After one person leaves, there will always be someone else who needs that supportive environment, an opportunity, her help to make others smile. She’s there to tend to buds before they bloom, the cocoon for caterpillars, it’s a place for anyone, young and old, talented or inexperienced, determined or hobbyist, to come and go when it suits them best—

Becuase she’s learned that the smiles created at the Wonder Stage and Pheonix Wonderland shouldn’t end there, she wants those smiles to stay on their faces as they leave and go out into the world to spread those happy feelings everywhere.

[malpractice-morale]

not my assignment currently looking like a james somerton script

[ourbastardofsorrows]

it's really, really important to have a Goal when you're applying makeup. mine is to look like the embodiment of those early 2000s vampire blingees

[txttletale]

Saw a tweet that said something around:

"cannot emphasize enough how horrid chatgpt is, y'all. it's depleting our global power & water supply, stopping us from thinking or writing critically, plagiarizing human artists. today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools. this isn't a world we deserve"

I've seen some of your AI posts and they seem nuanced, but how would you respond do this? Cause it seems fairly-on point and like the crux of most worries. Sorry if this is a troublesome ask, just trying to learn so any input would be appreciated.

i would simply respond that almost none of that is true.

'depleting the global power and water supply'

something i've seen making the roudns on tumblr is that chatgpt queries use 3 watt-hours per query. wow, that sounds like a lot, especially with all the articles emphasizing that this is ten times as much as google search. let's check some other very common power uses:

running a microwave for ten minutes is 133 watt-hours

gaming on your ps5 for an hour is 200 watt-hours

watching an hour of netflix is 800 watt-hours

and those are just domestic consumer electricty uses!

a single streetlight's typical operation 1.2 kilowatt-hours a day (or 1200 watt-hours)

a digital billboard being on for an hour is 4.7 kilowatt-hours (or 4700 watt-hours)

i think i've proved my point, so let's move on to the bigger picture: there are estimates that AI is going to cause datacenters to double or even triple in power consumption in the next year or two! damn that sounds scary. hey, how significant as a percentage of global power consumption are datecenters?

1-1.5%.

ah. well. nevertheless!

what about that water? yeah, datacenters use a lot of water for cooling. 1.7 billion gallons (microsoft's usage figure for 2021) is a lot of water! of course, when you look at those huge and scary numbers, there's some important context missing. it's not like that water is shipped to venus: some of it is evaporated and the rest is generally recycled in cooling towers. also, not all of the water used is potable--some datacenters cool themselves with filtered wastewater.

most importantly, this number is for all data centers. there's no good way to separate the 'AI' out for that, except to make educated guesses based on power consumption and percentage changes. that water figure isn't all attributable to AI, plenty of it is necessary to simply run regular web servers.

but sure, just taking that number in isolation, i think we can all broadly agree that it's bad that, for example, people are being asked to reduce their household water usage while google waltzes in and takes billions of gallons from those same public reservoirs.

but again, let's put this in perspective: in 2017, coca cola used 289 billion liters of water--that's 7 billion gallons! bayer (formerly monsanto) in 2018 used 124 million cubic meters--that's 32 billion gallons!

so, like. yeah, AI uses electricity, and water, to do a bunch of stuff that is basically silly and frivolous, and that is broadly speaking, as someone who likes living on a planet that is less than 30% on fire, bad. but if you look at the overall numbers involved it is a miniscule drop in the ocean! it is a functional irrelevance! it is not in any way 'depleting' anything!

'stopping us from thinking or writing critically'

this is the same old reactionary canard we hear over and over again in different forms. when was this mythic golden age when everyone was thinking and writing critically? surely we have all heard these same complaints about tiktok, about phones, about the internet itself? if we had been around a few hundred years earlier, we could have heard that "The free access which many young people have to romances, novels, and plays has poisoned the mind and corrupted the morals of many a promising youth."

it is a reactionary narrative of societal degeneration with no basis in anything. yes, it is very funny that laywers have lost the bar for trusting chatgpt to cite cases for them. but if you think that chatgpt somehow prevented them from thinking critically about its output, you're accusing the tail of wagging the dog.

nobody who says shit like "oh wow chatgpt can write every novel and movie now. yiou can just ask chatgpt to give you opinions and ideas and then use them its so great" was, like, sitting in the symposium debating the nature of the sublime before chatgpt released. there is no 'decay', there is no 'decline'. you should be suspicious of those narratives wherever you see them, especially if you are inclined to agree!

plagiarizing human artists

nah. i've been over this ad infinitum--nothing 'AI art' does could be considered plagiarism without a definition so preposterously expansive that it would curtail huge swathes of human creative expression.

AI art models do not contain or reproduce any images. the result of them being trained on images is a very very complex statistical model that contains a lot of large-scale statistical data about all those images put together (and no data about any of those individual images).

to draw a very tortured comparison, imagine you had a great idea for how to make the next Great American Painting. you loaded up a big file of every norman rockwell painting, and you made a gigantic excel spreadsheet. in this spreadsheet you noticed how regularly elements recurred: in each cell you would have something like "naturalistic lighting" or "sexually unawakened farmers" and the % of times it appears in his paintings. from this, you then drew links between these cells--what % of paintings containing sexually unawakened farmers also contained naturalistic lighting? what % also contained a white guy?

then, if you told someone else with moderately competent skill at painting to use your excel spreadsheet to generate a Great American Painting, you would likely end up with something that is recognizably similar to a Norman Rockwell painting: but any charge of 'plagiarism' would be absolutely fucking absurd!

this is a gross oversimplification, of course, but it is much closer to how AI art works than the 'collage machine' description most people who are all het up about plagiarism talk about--and if it were a collage machine, it would still not be plagiarising because collages aren't plagiarism.

(for a better and smarter explanation of the process from soneone who actually understands it check out this great twitter thread by @reachartwork)

today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools

i mean, this is true! AI tools are definitely going to destroy livelihoods. they will increase productivty for skilled writers and artists who learn to use them, which will immiserate those jobs--they will outright replace a lot of artists and writers for whom quality is not actually important to the work they do (this has already essentially happened to the SEO slop website industry and is in the process of happening to stock images).

jobs in, for example, product support are being cut for chatgpt. and that sucks for everyone involved. but this isn't some unique evil of chatgpt or machine learning, this is just the effect that technological innovation has on industries under capitalism!

there are plenty of innovations that wiped out other job sectors overnight. the camera was disastrous for portrait artists. the spinning jenny was famously disastrous for the hand-textile workers from which the luddites drew their ranks. retail work was hit hard by self-checkout machines. this is the shape of every single innovation that can increase productivity, as marx explains in wage labour and capital:

“The greater division of labour enables one labourer to accomplish the work of five, 10, or 20 labourers; it therefore increases competition among the labourers fivefold, tenfold, or twentyfold. The labourers compete not only by selling themselves one cheaper than the other, but also by one doing the work of five, 10, or 20; and they are forced to compete in this manner by the division of labour, which is introduced and steadily improved by capital. Furthermore, to the same degree in which the division of labour increases, is the labour simplified. The special skill of the labourer becomes worthless. He becomes transformed into a simple monotonous force of production, with neither physical nor mental elasticity. His work becomes accessible to all; therefore competitors press upon him from all sides. Moreover, it must be remembered that the more simple, the more easily learned the work is, so much the less is its cost to production, the expense of its acquisition, and so much the lower must the wages sink – for, like the price of any other commodity, they are determined by the cost of production. Therefore, in the same manner in which labour becomes more unsatisfactory, more repulsive, do competition increase and wages decrease”

this is the process by which every technological advancement is used to increase the domination of the owning class over the working class. not due to some inherent flaw or malice of the technology itself, but due to the material realtions of production.

so again the overarching point is that none of this is uniquely symptomatic of AI art or whatever ever most recent technological innovation. it is symptomatic of capitalism. we remember the luddites primarily for failing and not accomplishing anything of meaning.

if you think it's bad that this new technology is being used with no consideration for the planet, for social good, for the flourishing of human beings, then i agree with you! but then your problem shouldn't be with the technology--it should be with the economic system under which its use is controlled and dictated by the bourgeoisie.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝟴 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗖𝗨𝗧𝗘 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where a fan made an 8-minute video with a compilation of Chris and Y/N being in love.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by @lightsgore

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The fans of the triplets simply adored Y/N and Chris together, and that wasn't news. The number of comments and likes doubled whenever the girl appeared with her boyfriend in a random picture in a photo dump on Instagram or when her voice sounded in the background of a video.

But what they loved most was when a cute moment of the two of them together was captured during a video on the Sturniolo channel or in a fraction of seconds on Y/N's TikTok, and they made this clear by making thousands of compilations of these little moments, long enough to even post on YouTube.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

8 minutes of cute moments between Chris Sturniolo and his girlfriend, Y/N.

1st minute:

The triplets and Y/N were walking down the sidewalk near the arena in Boston, where they played hockey with Nate.

Nick was recording himself with his phone, talking about how he had almost slipped on the ice several times, when Chris and Y/N's voices sounded, interrupting him. He focused the front camera on the two behind him, surreptitiously recording them.

"... But baby, it wasn't my fault." Y/N complained, her lips forming a pout as her eyes focused on the floor.

"Babe, I asked you to record the game, right?" Chris asked, an amused smile on his face.

They walked side by side, the girl's right arm around her boyfriend's slightly sweaty waist, while Chris's left arm rested on Y/N's shoulders, his fingers caressing her left bicep lightly.

"Yes, and I recorded it!" Her voice came out high-pitched.

"Okay, and how many times did I make a goal?" The boy asked again, raising his right eyebrow.

"Three." Y/N replied in an obvious tone, raising her eyes to look into the blue ones she loved so much. "You kissed me every time you did it." She smiles proudly.

"Yes, and how many of those three did you record?"

"None." She looked down again, her pout deepening. "But-"

Chris threw his head back, his laughter echoing through the night, interrupting his girlfriend's defense.

He leaned down slightly, sealing his lips over Y/N's head, an amused smile still on his face. Oh, how he loved his girlfriend.

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2nd minute:

The triplets were filming the video "A night at the North Pole with Larray and Nai!". The camera was positioned in a strategic point so that the lens captured all the camping items around the room, as well as the brothers and the two guests.

Y/N was in her shared room with Chris, already dressed in her - his - pajamas and with her skincare done, ready for bed. But sleep never came.

She knew she had trouble sleeping without Chris after her body got used to the boy's presence pressed against hers every night for 5 years, so her mind didn't seem to give in, begging for the warmth that Chris's larger body provided.

After a few long minutes of turning from side to side, Y/N gave up trying. Sleep was taking over her, and she was feeling more and more stressed for not being able to go into dream land, so she decided to just go to her boyfriend.

Y/N rose from the bed, their duvet wrapped around her body like a cape. Her hands reached for the handle of the white door, closing it behind her and climbing the stairs in slow, silent steps caused by the fluffy socks that covered her feet.

Larray was the first to notice her - sitting facing the top of the stairs. He smiled, amused by his friend's condition; her eyes slightly closed from sleep, her hair high in a messy bun, and her hands gripping the edges of the duvet tightly.

Not many seconds passed, and Y/N's figure was finally caught by the camera, the girl having entered the frame.

"Hey, zombie girl." Nick joked when he noticed her, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

Y/N completely ignored him, walking towards her boyfriend from behind the triplets, not wanting to step on the food that was on the floor between the five of them.

Chris's face automatically lit up when he noticed her after hearing his brother, a big smile taking over as his eyes sparkled. He opened his arms, already waiting for his girlfriend's next move.

The girl smiled lazily back, planting her feet on the floor on either side of her boyfriend's hips, before lowering herself with Chris's help, sitting on his lap.

The brunette quickly wrapped her in his arms, surrounding her torso covered by the fluffy duvet. He hugged her tightly, laying his head in the crook of her neck and exhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo momentarily, before resting his chin on her shoulder, being able to see everything in front of him.

"Sleep, pretty girl."

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3rd minute:

Chris was playing Fortnite live on Twitch. His camera was on and focused on his upper body. His head was covered by the hood of his hoodie, pressed against his ears by the headphone, from where muffled sounds from the video game were coming out.

Within 30 minutes of streaming, Y/N's figure shyly appeared behind Chris. Her hands held a tray with some snacks and an already opened can of Pepsi.

She walked towards her boyfriend, curving her spine slightly forward so that her face came into his field of vision, alerting him to her presence.

The boy's blue eyes widened in excitement almost instantly, a smile stretching across his face as his right hand worked on pausing the game, using the soles of his feet against the floor to turn his body towards her.

"Hi bubba, I just came to drop off some snacks for you. It's been a while since you had dinner, I thought you could be hungry." Y/N counted in a low tone, momentarily forgetting that Chris's headphones were of the highest quality, meaning it caught her every word.

The couple didn't notice the chaos in the chat, too focused on each other.

Chris bit his lower lip in an attempt to stop his smile from growing any wider, taking the tray from Y/N's hands and placing it on the free space on his computer desk.

He lifted his chin slightly in the air so that he brought his lips closer to hers, sealing them in a quick kiss, his eyes shining with intense love.

"Thank you, babe." Chris thanked in an equally low tone, adjusting himself in his chair again, ready to go back to playing.

Y/N smiled, caressing his shoulder lightly before turning to leave the room.

"I love you." The brunette shouted quickly before his girlfriend could close the door, receiving an "I love you more" in return.

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4th minute:

The triplets and Y/N were at an Italian restaurant, having decided to go out to dinner together that day.

Y/N was talking to Matt about one of the random facts that the boy knew and blurted out of nowhere, the two deeply involved in the conversation.

The dishes had just been delivered by the waiter, who placed them respectively in front of the person who ordered, leaving shortly afterward.

Chris quickly pulled Y/N's plate towards himself, grabbing his own knife and fork and cutting the sirloin steak into small pieces and separating them from the pasta, knowing how much his girl hated cutting meat and how she always ate too quickly.

What he didn't notice was that Nick took out his phone the moment he started the gesture, closely recording his brother cutting his girlfriend's food, practicing the act of service.

After finishing, Chris lightly pushed the plate in front of his girl, turning around to start eating his own.

The girl smiled shyly, turning to Chris momentarily, sealing her lips over his cheek before murmuring a "thank you, babe" against his skin, turning her attention back to Matt.

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5th minute:

The triplets were in their car, recording another car video. Y/N was their special guest, sitting in the backseat next to Chris, who chose to sit there just to be close to his girlfriend.

Y/N had just taken a bite of the pepperoni pizza that Nick took from the trunk, finishing chewing quickly so she could bring her point of view on something Nick was saying, gesturing with her right hand while her left held the piece carefully.

Chris watched her closely, his eyes fixed on her side profile as he listened, nodding his head.

Something the fandom loved was how Y/N was the only person Chris didn't interrupt all the time, showing himself completely interested in hearing anything his girl was saying, regardless of whether it made sense or not.

At one point, the boy lowered his eyes, stretching his right arm and taking one of the napkins that was on the car console, bringing it to Y/N's mouth, lightly wiping the corner of her lip that was dirty with sauce, but without interrupting her.

Chris folded the napkin, leaving it on his lap, knowing he would have to use it again soon.

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6th minute:

"Look, boys, learn from Chris how to treat a girl right." Nick whispered from behind his phone.

He was standing behind the kitchen table, holding his cell in his right hand, the rear camera focused on the living room couch, where Y/N was.

The girl was lying on her side, her knees bent so that her thighs touched her chest. Her back was facing the room, while her face was lightly pressed against the back of the couch. A Fresh Love sweatshirt set covered her body, keeping her warm.

Small sighs escaped her half-open mouth, her eyes moving behind her eyelids, showing how deep her sleep was.

Chris, who was sitting with her feet on his lap seconds ago, was now standing in front of the couch, curving his spine down so that he could reach his girlfriend, slowly passing his arms under her neck and bent knees, pulling her up.

On instinct, Y/N raised her left arm, surrounding Chris's neck and laying her head on his chest, waking up for just a few seconds, caressing his covered skin with the tip of her nose.

"Shh, sleep baby. I'm right here." Chris murmured in a low tone, sealing her forehead lightly, stopping his movements as he watched her close her eyes again, falling back to sleep.

Chris moved slowly, hugging Y/N's body against his as he walked towards the stairs, not noticing Nick recording them from afar.

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7th minute:

Y/N was sitting on the puff in front of her makeshift dressing table. Her phone was resting on it horizontally while her front camera recorded herself.

She was talking about the new trend in the fashion world, having as a hobby making videos for TikTok about fashion and makeup. While the girl explained in detail, her hands worked on doing her nighttime skincare, gesturing, and changing products alternately.

Chris's figure appeared behind her a few seconds after she started it, his hands holding Y/N's hairbrush. He was already ready to sleep, his eyes half closed with sleep and his hair slightly messy.

A habit created by the couple was that, while Y/N did her skincare before bed, Chris would carefully comb her hair, having always had a great love for her locks.

The boy approached his girlfriend, smiling quickly at the camera before stopping behind Y/N. His free hand parted her hair so he could comb it without hurting her or leaving any part behind.

Chris raised his hand with the hairbrush, starting to do it gently, untangling the knots created throughout the day and aligning the strands.

His eyes met Y/N's from time to time through the mirror, a small smile resting on his lips, adorning his passionate features.

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8th minute:

It was the Versus Tour; Matt, Chris, and Nick were playing the last round of Giant Jenga when Chris spotted a fan with a sign held up.

"Wait, before we continue, can I read a sign from a fan real quick?" The brunette interrupted the group, holding his microphone with his right hand and pointing at the crowd with his left one, receiving absurdly loud screams in response.

Matt shrugged, looking at Nick, who nodded, making a go-ahead gesture with his hands.

"Hi! Can I read your sign?" Chris turned back to the audience, pointing to a specific girl. The girl's eyes widened, her mouth opening in shock at being noticed by her idol, taking a few seconds to finally nod her head repeatedly. "Your sign says, "I'm only here for Y/N"-"

Loud screams interrupted Chris, fans going wild at the mention of his girlfriend's name. The brunette took the microphone away from his mouth, laughing in disbelief and looking at a specific area on the right side of the stage.

A fan, who was in the audience and recording the moment, focused the rear camera of her phone on the place where Chris looked, being able to capture the figure of Y/N, who was laughing loudly and clapping her hands in amusement, shaking her head.

"Well, I can't judge you. Everywhere I am, I only go for Y/N, too." Chris muttered into his microphone again, laughing as he received even louder screams in response.

His eyes met his girlfriend's, throwing an air kiss and an "I love you" with just a movement of his lips, before turning his attention back to the game.

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Extra minute:

The triplets and Y/N were at their house with Nate and Madi. Everyone was in the living room, talking about random topics while a movie played on the television at low volume, serving as ambient sound. Some board games were scattered on the floor, next to unopened or already eaten snacks.

Chris was sitting on a puff in front of the big windows while Y/N was on his lap. She had her legs thrown to one side while her torso was on the other, sitting sideways on Chris's thighs with her right shoulder resting on his chest.

Chris's arms encircled her body, his right one holding her waist while his left one caressed her thighs lightly.

The girl was talking about a situation she witnessed between a group of third-party friends, always keeping her boyfriend updated on the gossip.

What they didn't know was that Madi was recording their cute moment.

As Y/N spoke, Chris looked into her eyes intently, his gaze so full of love that Madi thought she could see hearts in the place of his pupils.

The brunette nodded from time to time, making it clear that he had his attention on her and understood everything she was saying, an almost imperceptible smile resting on the corner of his lips.

The two seemed to be surrounded by a bubble created just for them, the entire outside world completely forgotten.

That was their dynamic, and the triplets fandom loved it.

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[hanasnx]

" DOUBLE BUBBLE DISCO QUEEN " — katsuki bakugou.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem bratty pink!reader ノ pussy whipped bakugou ノ established relationship ノ explicit sexual content ノ p in v ノ degradation: f receiving ノ reader has pink hair and pink style.

KATSUKI BAKUGOU didn’t know what to make of you at first. He’d never admit you were intimidating, but your commitment to one color made him nauseous. Pink was everything he saw you sport, as if you couldn’t have a style outside of it. Even your hair sprouted from your scalp in a soft pink shade. Regardless of his initial apprehension, somehow he was roped into a relationship with you. Now he carries your many bags, opens doors for you, holds your hand when you start yapping too much. You annoy him, and yet he sticks with you.

He’s come to respect you, and even like you a little bit. Not that you give him any choice. He can’t be fooled by your soft appearance, you’re just as domineering as he is. You’re spoiled rotten, and high maintenance as hell. It’s taken him loads of tries to get it right, to treat you exactly how you believe you deserve to. It’s difficult—next to impossible—but you make it worth it, don’t you?

When you spread those legs, all pretty and eager for him, things go quiet. For once, things go his way. Katsuki’s never considered himself to be a pussy-driven guy until he met you. Suddenly, he’s letting you bully him into all kinds of things just for a glimpse of that kitty. He’d feel shame if his mouth wasn’t watering right now staring down at those drippy lips, open and waiting for him.

“C’mon, Katsu. Wanna feel you.” you whine with a coy smile to your lips, impatient and brows upturned. Just as you wiggle your hips enticingly, mean and callused hands envelope them, pinning your ass to the mattress.

Gripping the base, he feeds himself into your hole, sniffing out the give until you moan just from the stretch, and he sighs with goddamn relief. As if he’s finally getting payback for everything you throw at him. You’re a damn bitch, and you know he thinks so, but getting this tight cunt gives you a blank slate. After he’s good and fucked his fill, he’ll be ready to take your attitude again. For now, he keeps a palm over that smart mouth of yours, just so you don’t ruin the moment.

“Mmf—“ he grunts, scooping an arm under your knee to pick your leg up, giving himself a little more room inside you. “Even this princess pussy’s a brat…Clenching down on me.” he speaks through his teeth, rutting in and out to hollow out a space for himself. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?” A bold-faced lie, but you take it anyway, nodding to him. Anything to get him to keep going, anything to get him to make you loosen up so he can fuck you for real. His palm over your mouth remains, and you smell his sweet scent of sweat.

“Running me ‘round, dangling this cunt in front of me knowing I’ll do whatever for it. Tch, you’re so damn annoying.” His words in your ear sends a powerful shudder down your spine, fluttering your eyelashes. You slick, lubing up his entry as he keeps pushing in and in. Even without seeing his face, breathing hard through your nose over his third pinky knuckle, you can feel him grin next to you. You know it's wolfish just from the sound of his reply, “You like hearing that shit, huh?” His husky voice grates your ears and you whimper pitifully under his weight.

His hips increase their fervor, getting excited over the new room in your hole, setting an immediate bruising pace just to be a jerk.

“For someone so spoiled, struttin’ ‘round like you can buy anything you want with daddy’s money, you sure like gettin’ called out on it.” That's what he's here for.

@HANASNX 2024 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.

[wandaslittlebird]

You Look So Good (On Your Knees)

Voyeur!Mommy!Wanda x Daddy!Natasha x Reader

What was supposed to be just a weekly movie night quickly turns into something else when you catch a glimpse of something you weren’t supposed to see.

CW: Voyeurism, threesome, strap-on, flogging, orgasm denial (? A tiny bit?), caught in the act (once again a tiny bit), punishment, dacryphilia, degradation, hair pulling, choking (not really), reader calls WandaNat mommy/daddy

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is for @wandamaximoffsbadgirl. Thank you for all your help! I hope this was worth clawing your way under the door. Writing this (particularly the very end) has put me in a total WandaNat x Reader tailspin so expect some fluffy domestic stuff in the coming weeks.

A/N: I kinda sorta definitely double dipped for this fic, and it’s a spin of a different fic I did for a different fandom. But new fandom new crowd, and I figure almost none of you have read my non-marvel work. So the self-plagiarism is strong, but will probably go unnoticed anyway.

“Wanda? Natasha?” You called into the seemingly empty house.

It was Thursday night, your designated movie night with the couple: your long term friends and fuck buddies. They’d given you a key months ago. So, when you knocked and no one answered you just let yourself in.

You set down your bag in the living room, looking for them around the house. Their cars were both in the driveway. They had to be home. After investigating the first floor, you went upstairs. Maybe they were already in the bedroom waiting for you. That is where you always had your movie nights, after all.

You cracked the door open to find them both on the bed, Natasha underneath Wanda in an intense kiss. Natasha was grinding up against Wanda’s thigh, whining and breathless. You could tell by the way her hips were starting to falter, she was close. They must’ve been at this for a while. You didn’t want to interrupt.

You took a step back, trying to quietly shut the door. Maybe you could just wait downstairs until they finished. But before you could click the door fully shut, you heard Wanda’s commanding voice. “Not so fast, little girl.”

You sighed. You’d been caught. You opened the door back up, revealing Wanda pulling herself away from her wife. She looked at you with a cold glare, curling her fingers, instructing you to come to her.

She had you stand between her legs at the foot of the bed. “Did you not think to knock when coming into mommy and daddy’s room?”

“I-I knocked outside! I couldn’t find you! I was just looking for-“ you desperately tried to explain.

Wanda cut you off with a smirk. “Well, you found us.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Oh but honey, you did interrupt,” Wanda explained condescendingly. “You interrupted and now daddy doesn’t get to cum.”

“W-what? No but she was so close! Please let her cum mommy,” you pleaded on Natasha’s behalf. You genuinely felt terrible. You knew what that kind of denial felt like and you would never wish it on anyone, especially not your daddy.

Natasha smiled when you jumped to her defense, joining you and Wanda at the end of the bed. She beckoned you over to her, quickly pulling you to sit on her lap. She wrapped her arms around your waist, whispering into your ear. “It’s okay, baby. You're gonna make daddy cum so good later, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, shivering against her. God, you had hoped movie night would start like this.

“But for right now,” Wanda started. “We’ve got to teach somebody a lesson about knocking, don’t we? It’s your fault daddy didn’t get to cum, so daddy should be allowed to punish you, shouldn’t she?”

You looked to Natasha, who just raised her eyebrows expectantly, and then you nodded. “Yes mommy.”

“That’s our good girl,” Wanda purred, running her hand down the side of your face and lightly pinching your cheek. “Now, daddy’s gonna get you all set up on the bench while mommy goes to get some toys, okay?”

They both stood almost synchronously. Wanda briefly disappeared into the next room while Natasha hoisted you up in her arms, laying you face down on the leather bench next to the bed. She propped the back part up so it turned into more of a seat.

Wanda came from the closet with a long black leather flogger, her implement of choice for this particular scene. She handed it to Natasha, who smiled and gave her a kiss. Wanda sat down next to you, propped up over a seat you were now straddling.

She wiped the hair from your face. “Ready?”

You nodded into the soft, plush leather of the seat. You could already feel yourself easily slipping into that fuzzy space, where all the thoughts, worries, and responsibilities became irrelevant.

Wanda smiled, noticing the way your eyes glazed over. “I need to hear you say it, angel.”

“Yes, mommy,” you said as clearly as you could muster.

Wanda ran the back of her hand down your cheek. You shivered. She was the only lesbian you’d ever meet who always wore acrylics. The sharp point of her stiletto nails on your face sent tingles down your spine. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the sensation.

You felt the leather tassels of the flogger brush lightly against your back. You whimpered, squirming in your seat.

“You don’t have to count, honey,” Wanda soothed. “Just let go. Mommy and daddy are gonna take care of you. You don’t have to think about anything at all.”

With that you felt the first sharp sting of leather snap against your back. You let out a noise between a whimper and moan. Natasha started slow, each hit a distinct sensation on your back, but as she started to pick up the pace, the strikes became less distinct.

In less than five minutes, she’d made a mess of you. You whined and squirmed against the leather seat.

“Aww sweetheart,” Wanda cooed. “Do you need mommy to hold you still while daddy whips you?” Before you could answer, the blows stopped.

“Nooo…” you whined. “Daddy keep going. Please I promise I’ll sit still. Please don’t stop.”

Despite your protest, you felt two strong hands pick you from your seat. “I’m not done, princess,” you heard Natasha’s soft voice say. “But you’ve gotta stop squirming or I’m accidentally going to hit you in the kidneys.”

You were lowered into Wanda’s lap, where your legs were forced wider apart in order to straddle her. It made it significantly harder to move. She locked her hand around your thigh to keep you in place. Her other hand gently massaged your hair. “That’s it honey. Mommy will make sure you stay nice and still.”

Her long nails against your scalp were almost enough to make the thoughts fly from your head. “But… But you’ll get hit.”

Wanda chuckled and kissed your temple. “Daddy has excellent aim, sweetheart. I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about anything at all.”

The leather cracked against your back again. It hurt more now that your back was already raw. If not for Wanda’s hand pinning you in place, you might’ve jumped off her lap entirely. You whined wrapping your arms around Wanda.

She cradled your head over her shoulder, gently shushing your cries as she watched Natasha bring the leather down against your back over and over again.

“Mommy…” you whined into her ear. You were trying to ride her thighs like you had ridden the leather seat, but the awkward position prevented you from getting any friction whatsoever. It wasn’t even until Wanda felt drops of warmth on her thighs that she realized why you were whining.

“Aww,” she hummed, “you’re making a bit of a mess on mommy’s lap, baby.”

“I’m sorry, mommy,” you mumbled into her shoulder. “I just… it feels so good.”

“All this just from a flogging, sweetheart?” She teased. She would’ve loved to tease you further, but she was genuinely afraid you’d accidentally hurt yourself if she stopped holding you in place, much less if she had her hand between your legs.

You blushed, burying your face into her neck. “Mommy…” you whined when the leather stung your back once again. “Mommy please…”

Wanda’s heart melted at your words. The combination of your pathetic voice begging her for relief and your frail body in her arms made her want to ruin you in a different way. You were just so vulnerable. It would be such a waste to not take advantage of you in this state. “Alright,” She cooed. “I think she’s learned her lesson, hasn’t she Tasha?”

Natasha chuckled, but she stopped her flogging. “Do you think she’s learned her lesson, or have you just gone soft for a ‘mommy please’?”

Wanda wrapped her arm around your back, long nails still masterfully massaging your scalp. She rocked you back and forth in her lap. “Oh come on Tasha, look at her: getting all pathetic and leaky in her mommy’s lap. Doesn’t it just make you wanna…”

“Throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress until the only things in her little head are mommy and daddy?” Natasha finished.

“Exactly,” Wanda smiled mischievously. It was such a marvelous thing that she married someone who was always on the same wavelength as she was.

You were promptly picked up out of Wanda’s lap from behind. You whined, reaching out for Wanda.

“Now now,” Natasha chided. “None of that. Mommy’s not going anywhere. She’s gonna be here with you the whole time.”

She guided you to kneel on the bed, nudging your legs apart. Almost instinctively, your hands were crossed at the wrist behind your back.

Wanda hadn’t exactly planned on binding your wrist, but when you sat so perfectly, so expectantly, she could hardly resist.

“Natasha, would you like to bind this little darling's hands for us?” She instructed.

Natasha smiled, eagerly grabbing a length of pink ribbon and getting to work on tying your wrists together. She so loved tying you up. While a simple figure 8 around the wrists would’ve done the trick, she decided instead on a more complex design that would bind you up to the elbow. She knew she had time. Wanda would require a thorough inspection before she’d let Nat fuck you.

Wanda ran a singular finger through your slit. Her cold rings and sharp nail bumped over your clit as she dragged her hand upward. The sensation caused you to jump and whimper. Wanda just chuckled, bringing her finger lightly up your body until it was at your lips. You took her finger obediently between your lips.

“Do you think your ready for daddy to fuck you, baby?” she asked. “Does this needy pussy want daddy’s cock?”

You nodded, trying not to wince as her rings made their way onto your tongue, filling your mouth with a metallic taste.

“Which of daddy’s toys do you want, huh?” She asked, intentionally pushing down on your tongue so you couldn’t talk. “I’ll think I’ll have daddy use the purple strap. The one with the- what did you call them- the ‘mean ridges’? The ones that scrap against your special spot?”

You whined around her finger, giving her the most endearing puppy dog eyes you could possibly muster.

“Oh sweetheart,” she cooed, “do you not like that one? Maybe you’d prefer it if daddy tied you to the chair and you watched her fuck mommy instead, hmm? Maybe you’d just prefer not to have any orgasms at all?”

You shook your head frantically. You wanted to protest, to promise you’d be good and take that dreaded purple strap, but you couldn’t speak.

She chuckled. “That’s what I thought, baby. You’re gonna be a good girl for mommy and daddy, aren’t you?”

You nodded. She pulled her finger from your mouth and tilted your head up to kiss you gently.

“That’s our sweet girl,” she praised. “Aw it looks like daddy’s finished tying you up all pretty. Can you say thank you to daddy?”

You craned your neck to the side, trying to see her behind you. “Thank you, daddy, for tying me up all pretty.”

Natasha laughed, pulling you back towards her by the ribbon. She kissed you and smiled. “You’re welcome, baby. Can you show mommy your pretty ribbon?”

You attempted to turn around to show Wanda the way your hands and arms were intricately bound behind your back, but Natasha pushed you forward into the mattress. You yelped, surprised by the sudden move.

“A present, wrapped special for you, my love,” Natasha said to Wanda, leaning over you to kiss her wife.

“You always know just what to get me,” Wanda breathed against her lips. “Now go get ready, love. I wanna watch you make our sweet little girl cry.”

Natasha climbed off the bed behind you, disappearing into the next room.

Wanda’s nails were against your sore back, rubbing soothing as you lay in wait. You attempted to sit up, but Wanda clicked her tongue. “No, baby,” she chided. “Stay just like this.”

You felt the bed dip as Natasha climbed back on behind you. Her calloused hands lifted your hips so you were kneeling tall. The angle forced your face even further into the mattress. You couldn’t put your hands out to hold yourself up with them tied up behind your back.

Natasha ran the tip of the strap up and down your slit, pulling a muffled moan from your lips. She lined the toy up with your entrance, gently easing it inside. She threw her head back and moaned as she felt each of the ‘mean ridges’ push into you, then she pushed your hips forward and pulled them back, silently commanding you to fuck yourself as you adjusted to her girth.

The toy was, admittedly, slightly too big for you to manage without any discomfort. The ridges cruelly raked against your inner walls, causing you to wince with each movement. But with time, you were able to adjust to feel only a slight, delicious stretch.

After you’d grown to a moderate pace, Natasha took over, grabbing your thighs and pulling them back to meet her own. You let your body go limp, allowing Natasha to control your movements completely. You were putty in her hands.

“Fuck, Wands you should see her from here,” Natasha groaned, looking down and watching the large toy disappear inside of you over and over again. “Fuck it’s like she swallowing me whole. Needy little cunt. Can’t get enough of daddy’s cock can you?”

You tried to bury your face into the sheets to muffle the noises she tore from you, but you were unsuccessful. Without your hands or your arms, your range of motion was severely limited.

Wanda’s eyes went wide and her face cracked into a smile when she heard the first hiccup of a cry. She leaned forward. “Tasha, hold her up. I want to see her face.”

Natasha reached down and grabbed your hair, pulling your head up so you were face to face with Wanda. She could see the build up of tears in the corners of your eyes and the way your bottom lip quivered, threatening to give way to a sob.

“Aww, sweet girl,” she cooed. “Are you going to cry for mommy? It’s okay angel, you can cry. Daddy’s not gonna stop fucking you even if you are going to be a sobbing little mess.”

Natasha fucked you harder, nearly pulling all the way out before she slammed back into you again. She kept your head up, forcing you to look at Wanda even as your eyes rolled back and your vision went blurry with tears. Natasha wrapped her hand around your throat, grabbing you just under your chin. She braced her forearm against your chest, pinning you upright against her.

The position only accentuated the effect of the ridges, causing them to bump more aggressively against the spongy spot inside of you. “Aww look at how pathetic you look, crying your little eyes out while daddy fills you with her cock.” Wanda teased.

You felt Natasha’s breath hot against your ear. “Tell mommy how pathetic you are.”

You offered little more than a whine in response. Your bottom lip continued to tremble as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Aww, sweet girl, there’s no need to be embarrassed,” Wanda assured. “It’s just me and daddy.”

You weren’t truly embarrassed, if you were being honest. You honestly felt like a masterpiece: a carefully constructed vision that Wanda and Natasha had crafted you into. But you played coy nonetheless. You had more fun when Wanda told you how pathetic you looked anyway.

“Poor thing,” Wanda taunted, “never learned how to take a proper fucking without crying.” Her eyes never left yours. Everything about watching her wife handle your helpless body drove her wild.

“I’m sorry mommy… I can’t help it… daddy’s cock feels so good inside of me,” you panted.

Natasha felt a burst of heat in her own core. Between yours and Wanda’s words she could feel herself creeping towards the edge. She just needed a bit of a different angle. She released her hold on you, causing you to fall helplessly back into the mattress. Wanda gently turned your head, preventing you from muffling yourself in the sheets.

You cursed. The combination of Wanda’s gentle hands and the new angle that hit all your most sensitive spots had you so close to an orgasm. All it would take was just a little more pressure on your clit. Unfortunately, with your hands bound behind your back, you were completely at their mercy.

“Please…” you begged mindlessly. “Please don’t stop. Fuck daddy. Please never stop.” You felt so certain that if Natasha pulled out of you right now, you’d simply die on the spot.

“You want to cum on daddy’s cock so badly don’t you?” Wanda teased. “But you can’t touch yourself. Poor baby.”

Natasha changed her pace. She could feel her own orgasm building as she felt the pull of the toy’s ridges pumping in and out of you. “Beg for mommy to let you cum, baby. I wanna hear you begging like the little slut you are.”

“Fuck!” you sobbed. The words poured out of your mouth nearly as fast as the tears poured from your eyes. “Please I’m all yours. I’m mommy and daddy’s little slut. Please, you can use me whenever you want. I’m just a little toy for mommy and daddy. Please I just need daddy’s cock inside me forever. Mommy please let me cum.”

“That’s a good girl,” Wanda praised, “begging mommy and daddy to use you like a little toy. That’s all you are right? A toy for mommy and daddy’s pleasure?”

“Yes!” you chanted. “Yes! I’m mommy and daddy’s toy. Please let me cum. Please mommy.”

“I wanna see you cum on daddy’s cock. Can you be a good girl and cum on daddy’s cock for mommy?” She asked.

Natasha curled her arm around your waist, pinching your clit and milking it between her fingers. Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell apart.

Natasha continued to fuck you as you came, clenching around the strap. The pulsing put the perfect amount of pressure on her own clit, sending her into an orgasm not long after you.

She steadied herself on your hips, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to regain her composure. She pulled the ribbon, and Wanda watched in fascination as the entire thing unraveled itself. They both chuckled as your arms bonelessly flopped down beside you.

Natasha hooked her arm around your waist to prevent you from simply collapsing when she pulled out. She laid you gently on your side before climbing off the bed. She disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you with Wanda.

You whined as the toy left, suddenly feeling terribly empty. Wanda sat down on the bed next to you, chuckling again as she bent over to kiss your temple. “I know, love. It’s just devastating that daddy can’t stay inside you forever, isn’t it?”

You nodded, whining again as you felt her wipe away the remnants of your orgasm.

“You did so well for us, love,” she praised, adjusting your position on the bed so you rested against the pillows. She pulled up some blankets, smiling as you wiggled in blissful content. “Comfy, honey?”

You nodded, reaching your arms out for her.

She crawled into bed next to you, wrapping her arms around you. She kissed your forehead, earning herself a dopey, blissed out smile from you. She kissed your cheek, licking up what was left of a few salty tears. She moaned at the taste.

Natasha came out of the bathroom, freshened up in nothing but a pair or boxers. She joined you and Wanda in bed, crawling in next to you. She kissed the top of your head. “Are you girls ready for movie night?”

You nodded. “I already promised mommy she gets my movie night cuddles this time, though.”

“What the hell?” Natasha said jokingly, pulling you forcibly into her lap and berating you with kisses. “Daddy fucks you so hard you can’t think straight and mommy still get the movie night cuddles?”

You giggled, squirming out of her kiss attack. “You always fall asleep anyway!”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Because I just fucked you so hard you couldn’t think straight. You wear me out, little girl.”

“Fine, daddy cuddles until you fall asleep, and then mommy cuddles,” you compromise.

“That sounds perfect, princess,” Natasha smiled, kissing you briefly.

You looked to Wanda for her approval. She smiled. “Fine. You can cuddle with daddy for the 20 minutes she’s awake, and then you’re all mine for the rest of the night.”

You wrapped your arms around both of them, pulling them into a tight hug. “Deal.”

[astro-enthusiast]

moon signs and what you learned from your mother (raw & uncut)

I’m not a professional astrologer, just an enthusiast. These are possible manifestations of attributes your mother taught you based on your moon sign.

WARNING: this is clear cut, no BS, straight to the point. There’s pros and cons for every moon sign. There’s no way around it.

DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES PLAGIARIZE MY WORK.

Aries Moon: your mother taught you how to fight, how to be resilient, how to depend on yourself and no one else. Your mother probably led with masculine energy. There’s an added layer of aggression in your relationship. She taught you how to be “tough.” You were likely raised by one parent for some reason (I’ve seen this be caused by the death of a parent at a young age or a parent who chooses not to be around due to strained rxship).

Taurus Moon: your mother taught you how to chill. Hard. You probably wanted for nothing. Money, security, stability- you had it all. You know how to eat, sleep, wake up, and do it all again. Maybe your home was uneventful growing up. You know how to make money and spend it just as well. Your mother likely didn’t do much that’s worth noting. She taught you how to work and chill out. This is a very narrow manifestation of this sign.

Gemini Moon: your mother taught you how to blend in to any crowd. You two probably gossiped together. Your mother may have provided the ultimate “How to Be Well Perceived” guide for you. How to hold a conversation with anyone. How to intellectualize emotions rather than actually feeling them. You can think or talk your way out of any situation, which may be a double edged sword as this can and will get you into trouble.

Cancer Moon: your mother taught you how to play the victim. How to become overly sensitized to other people’s emotions and the slightest change in their energies. How to be in touch with your own inner world; how to manipulate or be manipulated. You likely played a motherly role in life, but this is affected by house placements and aspects. Ex. A cancer moon in the 10th house may show their more nurturing side in public, but not so much at home.

Leo Moon: your mother taught you how to be flamboyant; how to prioritize yourself and your own emotions over others; how to lighten up the mood- likely to avoid dealing with heavier subjects. How to be the ✨golden child✨. But also, you as the child might have to step aside so your mom can have the true spotlight. At the end of the day, she comes first in her mind.

Virgo Moon: your mother taught you how to be “helpful,” likely to your own detriment. How to shut your mouth and sacrifice yourself and your well being for your family. How to be an adult from a very young age; you probably didn’t have a childhood. I’ve seen wayyy too many people with this placement parenting their own parents and other peoples kids while they themselves are literal children. Did you raise your mother or did your mother raise you? Your mother likely has no concept of your personal boundaries. If you place any, she’s surprised by the utter audacity. Also (trigger warning: violence) many Virgo moons mother’s are physically abusive. Does your mom randomly slap you when she’s mad? Just know you’re more than a maid or a punching bag. You are a person. I could write a whole book on this placement just based on the pure chaos of it. I’m so sorry. I love you.

Libra Moon: your mother taught you how to keep up with your appearances; that looks and what people think is far more important than any feeling you may experience. She taught you how to be well-liked and how to create a fake personality to keep others comfortable. If you’re feeling sad, you probably just need a new outfit or lipgloss to add an attempted cover to the crap that’s lurking in your subconscious mind.

Scorpio Moon: God help us all. Your mother taught you how to be afraid. Literally. Your baseline is likely fear which is learned directly from the mother. Your mother taught you how to manipulate as you see fit, which of course includes manipulating her as well. This likely goes both ways. You were taught to be emotionally in tune with your mother, with no boundaries or consideration for how you as an individual feel. Trust issues beyond comprehension. But you can’t help it, it’s literally in your blood. Also, love is not possession and control. You need to let that belief go, babe.

Sagittarius Moon: your mother taught you how to ignore anything that isn’t sunshine and rainbows, shut up, and keep it to pushing. Emotions were not a thing in your home. You’d be crazy to feel anything but joy. If you do, you’re considered ungrateful. Your mother was likely distant for some reason. Even if physically present, there was no emotional connection. But hey, at least she taught you new languages and exposed you to different cultures, right?

Capricorn Moon: (signs, “Santa Maria”). No, I am not here as another random person on Tumblr who thinks they know Capricorn moons. I’m here as someone who actually knows Capricorn moons. Your mother taught you how to put on a brave face, work until you can taste your own blood, and don’t stop for even a moment to think of what’s lurking under the surface. If you work really hard, you won’t even have a chance to notice all the baggage you’re carrying around! Anddd you’ll have piles of money to dry any tears that threaten to escape. You probably cry in your closet for complete and total privacy. Or not, maybe that’s just me. You’re taught to be the backbone of the family. Everything would probably collapse without you. But hey, no pressure, right?

Aquarius Moon: your mother taught you how to detach from any and all emotions. Do you even feel what you’re feeling? Or are your emotions solely for research purposes? Asking for a friend. You likely live away from your mother. She may even be on a completely different continent. Your mother is likely your friend at best, and a complete stranger at worst. Your friends are your family. You likely felt the need to escape your family from a young age. Maybe you were even embarrassed of how “weird” your family was. But alas, we can always make our own families out of friends. 💜

Pisces Moon: your mother taught you how to be the victim. Honestly, this might go for all water moons. Just apply that to this whole element. Your relationship with your mother may have been an emotional rollercoaster. Do you ever get off to take breaks? Perhaps your mother took on a more Neptunian approach to your relationship and she’s so emotionally distant you couldn’t catch her if you tried. How’s your sleep schedule? Maybe you sleep to avoid the feelings that are just too hard to deal with. Subliminal meditations are your friend.

I had a blast writing this. Let me know what you think!

RIGHTS RESERVED TO MY BLOG astro-enthusiast . DO NOT COPY, REWRITE, OR PLAGIARIZE MY WORK. DO NOT REPOST MY WORK WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.

[mysteria157]

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: Profanity, Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Doggystyle, Fingering, Oral (m! receiving)…

WC: ~10k (grab your snacks)

Summary: 

Nanami runs into a problem that every man dreads.

Now, you find yourself navigating the treacherous waters of his bruised ego and growing hysteria, armed with nothing but your unwavering love and a seemingly endless supply of patience, as you try to help him overcome this unexpected hurdle.

Notes: Hello! Trying to get back into the swing of writing again after so many weeks on a break and naturally Nanami is who I gravitate towards. I thought this one shot would be a funny idea, and as someone once told me, I wrote this with “my c*it on the keyboard.”

Please do not ask me for more related to this story. This is just a one-shot of a random idea, please enjoy it for what it is lol. Thank you all for understanding!

Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @cafekitsune | Header: made by myself

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter |

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

“Fuck, Kento,” you breathe, fingers digging into the satin of the pillow case beneath your head.

The soft, warm glow of the bedside lamp bathes your intertwined bodies in a honeyed light, casting shadows that dance across your rich brown skin. Nanami’s lips, hot and insistent, trail a path of fire down your neck, pausing to lavish attention on the sensitive hollow of your throat. He drags his teeth along your clavicle, brushes his lips between the skin of your breasts. A breathy moan escapes you as his tongue traces lazy, deliberate circles around an already-sensitive nipple, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

His hands, strong and sure, yet infinitely gentle, knead the soft flesh behind your knees, coaxing your legs to open wider, allowing him to sink deeper into the welcoming heat of your body. The blunt head of his cock grazes that sweet spot inside you with each measured thrust, and you can’t help but arch your back, silently begging for more.

Your hair, messy from his fingers, frames your face in a splatter of curls, some clinging to the sheen of sweat on your cheeks. The sight of you like this—open, wanting, completely his—nearly steals the breath from his lungs and makes him double down his efforts.

It’s been weeks since you’ve had this. Weeks of Kento stumbling home late from working overtime, collapsing into bed still fully clothed. Weeks of missed connections, family obligations, and movie nights cut short with you both passing out on the couch. But tonight, finally, you have each other, free from the demands of the world outside.

As Nanami moves within you, his honey-wheat hair, usually so perfectly styled, falls in soft, tousled waves across his forehead, clinging to the perspiration that glistens on his brow. The strong line of his jaw is taut with concentration, a muscle jumping beneath the skin in a way that makes your fingers itch to trace its contours. His eyes, normally a cool, observant umber, now burn with a fierce intensity, a volatile mix of desire and something else, something harder to define.

But even as you lose yourself in the rhythm of your lovemaking, in the exquisite slide of skin against skin, you can’t help but notice the weariness etched into the lines of Nanami’s face, the slight tremor in his hands as they map the contours of your body. He’s been working himself to the bone, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion, and it shows in the tension of his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. You had tried to get him to sleep when he sagged through the front door, but he was insistent, clawing at your too-big t-shirt, silent and too stubborn to listen to his body as he licked into your hot mouth.

He’s so tired. Mind still running through quarterly reports and half-completed project plans. But he won’t let that deter him. He’s determined to focus—to savor this moment, to lose himself in the intoxicating scent of your skin, to surrender to the tremors that course through him as your fingers ghost up his back. You marvel at the play of muscles beneath his skin, at the flex and release of his broad shoulders with each movement—a reminder of the strength he usually keeps so carefully controlled.

But as he leans in to capture your lips, that traitorous whisper of doubt in his mind grows in volume. That exhaustion that melted away from your touch has retreated to within him, to course through the blood in his veins and manifest again in its own, evil way at the apex of his thighs. Nanami’s movements falter, his rhythm turning erratic, unsure. You feel a change in him, a hesitation that wasn’t there before, and your heart clenches with concern. His brow furrows, his lips pressing into a thin line as he tries to hold onto the moment, to keep the passion burning between you. The confidence that usually radiates from him when you are both between the sheets seems to waver, leaving in its wake a man grappling with an unfamiliar sense of inadequacy.

He doesn’t want to believe it. He refuses to acknowledge the treacherous thought creeping into his mind. His cock, moments ago hard as a rock and pulsing within you, is betraying him. He digs one hand into the pillow beneath your head, fingers tangling in your curls, savoring the sharp gasp you shake out, desperately willing himself to focus on your heat, on your breath ghosting across his face—anything but the waning firmness of his erection.

With a low grunt, he thrusts deeper so there’s no room for his cock to leave you. The movement is sharper than usual, a force that has no trace of his care behind it and it immediately makes you blink through the fog of pleasure in your mind. You notice the change, concern filling you as you take in the tumultuous emotions on his face. His blonde hair falls in thick tufts over his forehead, brushing against the deepening crease between his eyebrows.

“Ken?” Your voice is soft, a gentle caress. You bring a hand to his cheek, and he leans into your touch as if your soft skin might anchor and keep him focused. “Is everything alright?”

Everything is far from alright.

It’s a nightmare scenario that Nanami can’t bring himself to voice. But he knows you feel it. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in harsh, ragged pants against your vanilla skin, his fingers digging almost painfully into the flesh of your hips. He drives his hips deeper, angling upwards, trying desperately to lose himself in your pliant body.

But with his next thrust, the cruel truth becomes undeniable. What was once hard steel is now unbearably soft, slipping out of you as his hips collide with yours. Your gasp mirrors his shock as he jerks his head up to meet your gaze. The mortification in his eyes is palpable, a stark contrast to the passion that burned there mere moments ago.

“Ken, it’s okay—” you begin, but he’s already retreating, both physically and emotionally, his walls slamming back into place, shutting you out. You can practically see him retreating into himself, his shoulders hunching, his jaw clenching with a stubbornness of wounded pride.

“Hey, no, we aren’t doing this,” you insist, voice firm and laced with quiet determination.

You reach for him, your fingers wrapping around a thick wrist, anchoring him to you. You’ve spent years chipping away at his defenses, learning every facet of his being, and you refuse to let him shut you out now over something like this. This isn’t just embarrassment—it’s a fundamental shaking of his self-image, a crack in the foundation of who Nanami believes himself to be. An affliction that every man prays to the gods never finds them.

Limp dick.

You gently pull Nanami back to rest between your thighs, his weight a comforting shield against the cool air of your shared bedroom. Your fingers weave through his hair, feeling the tension thrumming through his body as he settles against you.

“Kento,” you murmur, your voice a low, soothing melody in the quiet room. “Look at me.”

He stills for a heartbeat, two, before raising his head, his eyes meeting yours. In their depths, you see a swirling maelstrom of emotions—frustration, embarrassment, shame. He’s tousled hair and flushed cheeks, an overwhelming exhaustion and stress etched beneath his eyes.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, cradling his face in your hands. Your thumbs trace the high arch of his cheekbones, feeling the heat of his skin. “This happens. It doesn’t change a thing—not how I feel, not how much I love you, none of it.”

Nanami’s jaw clenches under your palms, the muscle pulsing, a physical manifestation of the turmoil brewing within him. His gaze falls, unable to hold yours, as if the weight of his perceived failure is too much to bear. “I should be able to—”

“To what?” you interject, your voice gentle but firm. “To be some infallible sex god?” A soft laugh escapes you, your lips curving into a tender smile. “To never have limp dick?”

Those warm eyes glare at you, not at all amused by your light-hearted but poignantly accurate joke. “Now is not the time for a joke,” he grits out, his voice tight, strained.

“Now is exactly the time for a joke,” you counter, your thumb tracing the slight cracks of his bottom lip. You can sense his next moves, your body attuned to his very soul, feeling his inclination to withdraw, to roll over and brood, to let this momentary setback fester into something more. You tighten your thighs around his waist, refusing to let him drift away. “How long have we been together, Kento?”

“Three years.” His answer is immediate, automatic, a testament to the depth of your bond.

“And in that time, has this ever happened before?”

Your eyes lock—a silent battle of wills, logic against stubborn pride. He understands your point, recognizes the truth in your words, but his stubbornness matches your own. “No,” he admits, the word a reluctant concession.

“You’re human, Kento. Wonderfully, beautifully human, and the sexiest man I’ve ever known. Performance issues or not.”

He scoffs, but you feel his shoulders slacken, his body melting into yours as he exhales, the tension slowly bleeding from his muscles. His arms tighten around you, calloused hands splaying across the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, as if your touch alone could chase away the demons of self-doubt. Those beautiful golden strands tickle your cheeks as he nuzzles closer, his breath warm against your neck.

“Is that so?” he finally murmurs, and you can hear the small smile in his voice, a welcome change from the earlier tension. For as reserved as he is, Nanami preens under any sort of compliments you give him, a chink in his armor of cool composure.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, your hands sliding down to appreciate the firm planes of his back. “It’s a shame, really. You attract too much attention. I’ve been too generous with how long I let you out of the house.”

You feel more than hear his soft chuckle, the vibration rumbling through his chest and into yours. Nanami pulls back slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours. The vulnerability from before hasn’t completely faded, but it’s tempered by a familiar spark of determination kindling in their depths. You don’t know if the subject has completely dropped. But for now, he doesn’t seem to dwell on it, content to focus on you instead.

“Well,” he begins, his voice dropping to that deep, velvety tone that never fails to send shivers cascading down your spine, “I should ensure your satisfaction. Maybe then you’ll extend my hours outside.”

Before you can respond, he’s moving. He sits up on his knees, hot hands wrapping around your waist before yanking your hips closer to him, a delicious show of strength that has your breath catching in your throat. Your giggle of surprise quickly morphs into a gasp as his lips find that sensitive spot just below your ear, tongue sliding against the skin before it trails down the rest of your body, leaving a path of desire that makes you shudder against him.

You expected a period of adjustment, a gradual return to the easy intimacy you and Nanami had always shared. But as time passed, you began to notice a shift, subtle at first, but growing more pronounced with each passing day.

That first sign of something odd presents itself on day three since that night, a quiet Saturday morning that dawns with a gentle golden light filtering through your bedroom curtains. You wake up to find Nanami’s side of the bed empty, the sheets cool to the touch. Puzzled, you pad into the living room, your bare feet silent on the cool hardwood floor, your eyes roaming the space for any sign of him.

Nanami sits at the dining table, surrounded by a veritable fortress of books, their spines forming a colorful barricade around his hunched form. His laptop glows in the morning light, casting his features in a pale blue hue, multiple tabs visible on the screen. He’s hunched over and shirtless, his bare back a canvas of dark moles, constellations you’ve traced countless times with reverent fingers, your lips mapping a path between each celestial point.

As you circle the table, drawing closer to his absorbed form, you’re struck by the intensity of his concentration, the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. His fingers fly over the keyboard with a single-minded purpose, a man on a mission, lost in a world of his own making.

“What are you doing up so early?” you ask, running a hand through the short, silky hair at his nape.

He glances up, and the determined glint in his eye catches you off guard. “Research,” he replies simply, as if that single word explains everything.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you lean in to examine the book titles scattered across the table, your brow rising with each passing second:

Male Sexual Health

Nutrition and Libido

Stress Management for Peak Performance

What the—?

A mix of emotions bubbles up inside you—amusement at his determination, concern for his state of mind, a touch of exasperation at his stubbornness. Part of you wants to tease him mercilessly, to watch that adorable flush creep up his neck, to see him squirm under your playful attention. But you bite your tongue, sensing the fragility of the moment, the rawness of his exposed insecurities.

“Ken,” you begin, your voice a delicate balance of understanding and concern, “is this about what happened the other night? I thought we talked about this, baby.”

“We did,” he nods, not looking up from his screen. “And I appreciate your understanding. But I can’t let it happen again. I’m going to fix this.”

There’s so much you want to say, so many reassurances you want to offer. You want to tell him how normal this is, how surprised you are that it hasn’t happened more often given his grueling work schedule. But you bite your tongue, sensing that this is something Nanami needs to process on his own.

“Don’t you think this might be…a bit much?” you try one last time, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his bare shoulder, careful not to make him feel defensive and push him further into his own head.

“Nothing is too much when it comes to satisfying you.”

And with those words, spoken with such conviction, such raw honesty, your heart swells, a tidal wave of love and affection crashing over you. He won’t be swayed, and there’s no point in trying to argue with him when he’s set on something. You can’t help but sigh fondly, running your fingers through his hair again, your nails gently scratching his scalp in the way you know he loves. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment, a low groan of appreciation rumbling from his chest as he guides your fingers to just the right spot.

As Nanami launches into an explanation of the benefits of Ashwagandha root, his fingers running along a line of text in one of the magazines, you can’t help but shake your head affectionately. You love this man, even (or perhaps especially) when he’s being ridiculously over-the-top, his determination to be the best partner he can be, even if it means diving headfirst into a world of herbal remedies and performance-enhancing techniques.

The days slip by, each one blurring into the next, a haze of normalcy tinged with an undercurrent of unease. It’s not until the morning of day ten that the true extent of Nanami’s newfound obsession becomes impossible to ignore.

The soft schick of his razor fills the bathroom, a rhythmic counterpoint to the rush of running water. He stands before the mirror, shirtless, a towel draped over his broad shoulders to catch stray flecks of shaving cream. You watch, transfixed, as he meticulously glides the razor along the sharp line of his jaw, each stroke precise, measured.

You stand beside him, your own morning ritual underway, massaging a rich, creamy lotion into your melanin-kissed skin. Your favorite scent of vanilla fills the air, mingling with the crisp, clean aroma of Nanami’s shaving cream. It’s a familiar dance, this shared moment of grooming, of preparation for the day ahead.

But as you reach for your leave-in, your eyes catch on something new, something that sends a jolt of surprise through your system. There, amidst the clutter of skincare products and toiletries, sits a new addition to the growing collection of bottles on the counter. The mustard-yellow label boldly proclaims: “Maca Root: For Vitality and Stamina”.

“Ken?” you murmur, plucking the bottle from the counter, your eyebrows dipping in confusion. “What’s this?”

Nanami’s eyes flick to yours in the mirror, his hand pausing mid-stroke, the razor hovering just above his skin. “Just a supplement,” he evades, his voice carefully neutral, a forced casualness he uses to avoid arguments he won’t win that always sets your teeth on edge. “For…overall health.”

You turn the bottle in your hands, eyebrow arching higher in disbelief with each word you read as you take in the bold, almost aggressive labeling. Your gaze darts to the other bottles littering the counter, a growing sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach as you take them in for the first time.

“Uh-huh. And the Zinc? The Ginseng? The…” you squint at another label, your voice dripping with skepticism, “L-arginine? All for ‘overall health’ too?”

He clears his throat, his gaze darting away from yours, focusing intently on his reflection as he studiously avoids your probing stare. “That’s right.”

“Baby—” you begin, but he cuts you off, setting down his razor with a definitive clink and shutting the water off, turning to face you fully.

The sight of him, bare-chested and gleaming under the harsh fluorescent light, sends a bolt of desire through you, a hunger that’s been left unsatiated for far too long. The thick cords of muscle that stretch across his chest and arms, the taut planes of his abdomen, the trail of dark blonde hair that disappears beneath the low-slung waistband of his sweatpants—it’s exquisite torture, a feast for your senses after days of famine.

But there’s a tension in the set of his shoulders, a skittishness in his gaze that sets off warning bells in your head.

“It’s the research I’ve been doing,” he admits, almost apologetic as he pulls the towel from his shoulders, wiping away the last traces of shaving cream from his jaw. “From what I’ve read, these have proven benefits for…various aspects of wellbeing.”

He seems almost afraid, as if he’s bracing himself for your reaction, steeling himself against the inevitability of your displeasure. Fortunately for him, the words are like a match to kindling, a spark that ignites a flame of mischief in your belly. You step closer, your hands coming up to rest on his chest, the supplement bottle forgotten on the counter behind you.

“Various aspects, huh?” you tease, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. This moment—when he smells of fresh soap, shaving cream, and mint toothpaste before cologne masks his natural scent—is one of many favorites. It’s one of the most arousing forms of Nanami Kento before he slides on his work clothes and gives the world a straight face and measured words. “Care to demonstrate some of these benefits?”

Your fingertips trace the muscles of his chest, slide along his skin with more purpose, your nails dragging lightly over his nipples, a teasing hint of pain that you know drives him wild. He inhales sharply, his muscles tensing beneath your hands, his jaw clenched tight, a reaction that’s as familiar to you as your own heartbeat.

For a moment, you think you have him, that he’ll give in to the desire that darkens his eyes, that he’ll roughly bunch your skirt up around your waist, hike your legs up and around him and make the bathroom mirror knock against your back until you’re gasping out his name as you tighten around his cock.

But then he’s stepping back, his hands coming up to gently catch your wrists, pulling your hands away from his skin.

“We’ll be late for work,” voice strained, conveying his own battling desire. He brings your hands to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the delicate skin of your wrists, your forehead, your mouth.“Let me make you breakfast instead.”

And then he’s gone, slipping past you and out of the bathroom, leaving you standing alone, frustration and disappointment warring in your chest. Your gaze falls on the supplement bottles, a physical manifestation of his growing hysteria, and for a moment, you’re seized by the urge to sweep them all into the trash, to rid your home of these unwelcome interlopers.

But you resist, drawing in a deep, steadying breath, your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you silently repeat the mantra that’s become your lifeline in recent days: I love him. I love him. I love him.

But as you square your shoulders and stalk out of the bathroom to start your day, you can’t shake the feeling that something’s got to give, that this tenuous balance can’t hold forever.

Day seventeen. It feels like an eternity, a cruel and unusual punishment for a crime you didn’t commit. You’re a prisoner in your own home, trapped in a world where the man you love is just out of reach, tantalizingly close but impossibly distant.

Seventeen days too long when you live with a man as loving, kind, and attentive as Nanami Kento. Seventeen excruciating days since the concept of getting dicked down was a given, a pleasure you could indulge in whenever the mood struck. Now, you’re reduced to grasping at sloppy seconds, thirds, fourths—anything for a crumb of cock, a fleeting taste of the intimacy you crave.

You’ve become a connoisseur of stolen moments, of fleeting glances and brushing touches that once held the promise of so much more. A shared look in the bathroom mirror that used to lead to soapy sex in the shower. The brush of his hand against the small of your back as you pass in the hallway, a touch that used to lead to him pulling you flush against his body, his lips claiming yours in a searing kiss. Now, you’re like an addict, desperately chasing the ghost of a high, sucking at nicotine-stained fingers for the essence of a hit.

In a last-ditch effort to reignite the spark to show him just how much he’s overreacting, you’ve taken to wearing his shirts around the house. You leave the top buttons undone, a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage on display, the hem riding high on your thighs to reveal the faint marks that he likes to lick against. But each night when you reach for him, Nanami simply presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips trailing a path down your body in a reverent exploration, worshiping you with his mouth and fingers until you’re trembling and spent.

But never with his cock. Never with the part of him you crave most, the part that once made you feel so deliciously full, so utterly claimed.

You feel dramatic when you think about it because it always brings tears to your eyes, hot and stinging with frustration and despair. Like you’re a petulant toddler wanting a cookie that’s been sitting on the counter all morning.

You’ve never been one to let a man dictate your life, to let his whims and insecurities hold sway over your own desires. But Nanami has always been a man to put you above and beyond anything before himself. If the women of the world knew what they were missing, if they could experience even a fraction of the pleasure Nanami Kento can provide, they’d be falling to their knees in supplication, just like you.

How far you’ve fallen.

And how little you care.

Tonight, you vow, will be different. You slip into the silk nightgown he loves, the one that clings to your every curve like a second skin, the baby blue fabric whispering against your heated flesh as you step out of the bathroom. Your heart races with anticipation, your body thrumming with need as you picture his reaction, the way his eyes will darken with desire, the way he’ll pull you into his arms and finally, finally give you what you both so desperately need.

But the bedroom is empty, the sheets still neatly made, mocking you with their pristine perfection. You frown, a sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach as you pad down the hallway, your bare feet whispering against the cool hardwood. As you approach the kitchen, a pungent, almost medicinal smell hits your senses, growing stronger with each step, mingling with the whir of a blender.

You round the corner and freeze, taking in the scene before you. Nanami stands at the kitchen counter, surrounded by an alchemist’s array of strange-looking roots and powders. The blender in front of him churns away, filled with a murky-greenish-brown liquid that looks more like something out of a horror movie than anything fit for human consumption.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice thin and strained, confusion and exasperation warring for dominance in your tone.

He looks up, startled, nearly knocking over a jar of what looks like dried herbs. “It’s…a health shake.”

You want to argue, to shake his shoulders and scream that this has gone too far, that he’s lost sight of what really matters in his quest for some unattainable ideal. But the determination in his eyes, the set of his jaw, the way he grimaces as he chokes down a sip of the vile concoction—it all speaks to a desperation that breaks your heart even as it fuels your frustration.

As he takes another sip, nose twisted to the side to avoid the foul smell, his eyes catch your frame. They roam over you, taking in the nightgown, giving you the exact reaction you pictured before coming out here.

For a moment, you see that flicker of desire in his eyes that you’ve been craving.

But then it’s gone, replaced by something that looks suspiciously like guilt.

“I’ll come to bed soon,” he promises, grimacing through another sip of his vile brew. “Get some rest. I know today was rough at work.”

His words are like a knife to your gut, a reminder of the distance that’s grown between you, the way his obsession has consumed him so completely that he can’t even see the pain it’s causing you both.

All of this, because of one night.

You press your toes into the hardwood, your fingers twisting in the hem of your nightgown as you fight back the tears that burn the corners of your eyes.

“You…you don’t want to come to bed with me?” you whisper, hating the way your voice breaks, the way the hope that once buoyed your words has been replaced by a hollow, aching despair and annoyance.

“I want to finish this and catch up on a few things for work before I come to bed.” His gaze slides away from yours, unable to meet the hurt and frustration in your eyes. Unable to see just how in his head he has become with all of this. “It’ll be a little while. Sleep for me? Please?”

The rejection, however gentle, leaves you feeling exposed and bereft, a physical blow to your gut. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak anymore, and turn to head back to the bedroom, your vision blurring.

There’s so much more to this than just you wanting to have sex. You want to be supportive, to give him time and space to work through whatever this is. But you hate just how disillusioned he has become. His gaze and his touch are tainted now—held back by shame and fear of disappointing you. And you can’t help but feel like this is getting more out of control instead of getting better.

You love him, more than anything. But right now, listening to the distant sounds of him choking down that awful-smelling shake, you’ve never felt further apart.

It all comes to a head on day twenty-five. The day dawns like any other, the sun’s warm rays filtering through the windows of your shared apartment, casting a soft glow on the well-worn furniture and the mementos of your life together. It’s your day off, a rare respite from the chaos of the work week, and you find yourself moving through the space with a sense of purpose, straightening and cleaning, trying to bring order to the disarray that seems to mirror the state of certain parts of your relationship.

As you work, your mind wanders, replaying the events of the past month like a melancholy film reel. The distance, the tension, the way Nanami has been pulling away from you, retreating into himself in a desperate attempt to fix what he perceives as a fundamental flaw in his being. Insisting that he won’t let this happen again even though he won’t actually fuck you.

It’s a weight that’s been bearing down on you both, a shadow that’s slowly suffocating the light and love that once filled every corner of your lives.

Your feet carry you to the bedroom, to the closet you share. As you reach for Nanami’s side, intent on straightening his crisp dress shirts, your hand brushes against something unfamiliar, tucked away in the shadows. Curiosity piqued, you pull it out, revealing a plain, unmarked brown box.

For a moment, your heart stutters in your chest, a cold fear gripping your insides as you lift the lid, praying that it’s nothing that would point your partner in the direction of infidelity. But no, you shake your head, banishing the thought before it can fully form. Nanami would never betray you, never seek solace in the arms of another because there’s only has and ever been you.

It makes complete sense in your head, but lately—

You yank open the lid and gape.

Inside, nestled among crumpled tissue paper, are items you never expected to find in Nanami’s possession. Your fingers tremble slightly as you examine them—a cylindrical pump, clear save for the rubber base, and an orange prescription bottle, its label stark against the translucent plastic.

You stare at the objects, your mind whirling with a chaotic storm of emotions. Shock, disbelief, a rising tide of frustration and despair. This isn’t just Nanami being health-conscious anymore, not just a passing phase or a well-intentioned attempt at self-improvement. This is something deeper, something more desperate, a manifestation of the fear and inadequacy that’s been eating away at him since that fateful night.

Carefully, you replace the items, your movements mechanical, your thoughts a jumbled mess. A part of you wants to laugh, to find the absurdity in the situation, to release the tension that’s been building in your chest like a pressure cooker. But you can’t bring yourself to even stifle a giggle, the weight of your worry too heavy.

You sink down onto the bed, the cool sheets soothing the heat of your legs, and draw in a deep, shuddering breath. The weeks of distance, avoidance, the way Nanami has been retreating further and further into himself, straying more and more from reason. There’s so much more to your relationship than just sex, but it’s a big part, a well-practiced part that you both can be your rawest selves during.

But all of this is a spiral that’s slowly dragging you both down, a vortex of unspoken fears and mounting frustrations on both ends.

And in that moment, surrounded by the remnants of your shared life in your apartment, the photos and trinkets that chronicle your love story, you know that something has to give. And it looks like you’ll have to take matters into your own hands. This ends today.

Tonight, when Nanami gets home, you’ll address this head-on. No more dancing around the issue, no more swallowing your grievances in the name of patience and nonexistent understanding. It’s time to remind him of who he is, of the man you fell in love with, the man who’s always been more than enough for you.

The sound of the front door opening pulls you from your thoughts, the soft shuffle of Nanami’s footsteps echoing down the hallway. “Love, I’m home,” he calls out, his voice weary but warm, a balm to your frayed nerves.

He appears in the doorway, his tie loosened, speckled black on yellow draped over his shoulders, the top buttons of his blue shirt undone. His glasses are gone, discarded in his haste to shed the trappings of the office, to leave the stresses of the day behind. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes softening as they land on you, a reverent smile playing at the corners of his lips. “So beautiful.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his words, at the love and adoration that shines in his gaze, even though you’re in a ratty t-shirt and shorts, your curls thrown into a careless and messy bun.

“You always speak as if it’s the first time you’ve ever seen me,” you tease, tilting your head back to accept his kiss, a chaste press of his lips that nonetheless ignites a spark of longing in your core.

“Because it’s true,” he replies simply, his fingers brushing a stray curl behind your ear. “I’m going to shower.” He sounds despondent, unbelievably ragged with the weight of the day clinging to him like a second skin.

“Rough day?”

“A very rough day, my love,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, disrupting the sharp part that he makes every morning. He reaches a hand out to you, an invitation, a plea for your company. “Join me?”

The bathroom is a sanctuary of steam and heat, the air thick with the mingled scents of your body washes—cucumber melon and sandalwood. You perch on the counter, a fluffy towel wrapped around your body, watching as Nanami goes through his post-shower routine, his movements methodical, almost meditative.

Water droplets cling to his skin, tracing tantalizing paths down the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs. Your mouth goes dry at the sight, your fingers itching to follow those rivulets, to map the contours of his body with your lips and tongue.

“Let me,” you murmur, your voice husky with repressed longing. Your legs spread, the open lapels of your towel exposing a creamy brown thigh that Nanami’s eyes flicker to before he meets your gaze. You reach for him, pulling closer until he’s standing between your parted thighs, the heat of his waist seeping through the thin barrier of your towel.

With gentle fingers, you work through the rest of his skincare routine—toner, serum, smoothing eye cream over the delicate skin beneath his lashes. The domesticity of the moment, the intimacy of caring for him like this in whatever way you can, it’s a way to show him that you’re here—that you’re not going anywhere, no matter how lost he may feel.

Your fingertips glide over his skin, applying the last of the face cream with gentle circular motions. As you finish, your hands move to his damp hair, brushing the strands away from his forehead. The strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the subtle crinkles at the corners of his eyes that crease faintly when he smiles.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, a soft smile playing on your lips. Nanami’s hands come to rest on your waist, his thumbs tracing small circles on your towel-covered skin.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, thickly. His eyes, those warm pools of mahogany, are soft with gratitude and affection.

“Always,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with love for this man.

Nanami leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. It’s meant to be a simple gesture of gratitude, but something shifts in the air around you. Whether it’s the intimacy of you both so close or the heat on your skin—the kiss deepens, slow and exploratory, as if you’re rediscovering each other after a long absence.

Your fingers thread through his damp hair, tangling in the strands as his hands tighten on your waist. Your tongue slides along his bottom lip, tasting the coffee he must have had on the way home, the hint of want that he wants to crumble into. He returns with equal fervor, pressing closer to you, sliding his tongue against yours, shivering from the soft moan that shakes from your wet lips when you both finally break apart. A gossamer thread of saliva connects you before he pecks your lips one last time. Nanami’s chest rises and falls deeply, coiled masculinity oozing from his pores, tangling with the downy hairs on his chest.

“Kento,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper, “we…we need to talk about what’s been going on.”

Your hands train down his chest as you speak, mapping the familiar terrain of his body. Beneath your fingertips, his heart thunders like a trapped bird, betraying the melting calm facade he’s trying to maintain. The defined muscles of his abdomen twitch under your touch, a visceral reaction he can’t control.

“The magazines, the supplements, the smoothies,” you continue, gentle but firm. “This has gone too far. One off night, Kento. That’s all it was. Yet here you are, acting like you’re broken, like every moment we’ve shared before was somehow lacking.”

Nanami tenses, his body coiling like a spring beneath your hands. But you’re not letting him retreat—not like that night—and certainly not right now. Your legs wrap around his waist, the gap of your towel widening as you yank him closer, anchoring him to you, skin to skin.

“You think that I would look at you differently?” you murmur, catching his distressed eyes every time they try to evade your gaze, willing him to understand. “Think I would think of you as a failure? You like logic, Kento and I’m telling you the facts. You were tired, case closed.”

“But I—” he starts, his voice rough with emotion, eyes narrowing in frustration as he tries to defend himself. You silence him with a thumb to the plump skin of his bottom lip, tracing the divots of soft, pink flesh.

“You’re the healthiest man I know, Ken.” Your other hand drifts lower, brushing through the trail of dark golden hair that disappears beneath his towel. “You take such good care of us. And you never, ever fail to satisfy me.”

His breath catches as your fingers ghost over his hipbones, alternating between soft cotton and the sharp cut of his skin. “One night doesn’t change that,” you whisper, the hand on his face sliding to card through his hair, you lean in to press your lips to the strong line of his jaw. His fingers dig into your waist from your touch, Adams apple bobbing against your gliding lips as he swallows the burning desire that’s slowly searing him from the inside out. “It doesn’t make you any less amazing, any less desirable.”

You pull back, meeting his eyes. In their warm depths, you see a swirling mix of vulnerability that makes your heartache.

“I just…I don’t want to disappoint you again. While I know that you don’t care, being unable to provide for you fully is something that I never wanted to experience.” The confession is thick in the air, sloshing with what remains of the steam from the shower, coating your skin.

“Oh, Kento,” you sigh, pressing your forehead to his. The scent of his skin—clean soap and something uniquely him—envelops you, offers that blanket of protection that you couldn’t imagine going away. “The only thing disappointing me is how you’ve been pulling away. I’m tired of you feeling inadequate when you’re anything but.”

You pause, weighing the options in your head before you take a bounding leap, throwing care to the wind. Slowly, deliberately, you slide off the counter, your body brushing against his as you descend. The cool tile of the bathroom floor contrasts sharply with the heat radiating from your skin.

Kneeling before him, you look up, your gaze never leaving his. Hands slide up thick thighs, the hair on his legs brushing against your fingertips as you travel further toward the rigid heat of where you need him most. The hitch in his breath is faint, almost nonexistent when your fingers toy with the towel’s edge around his waist. You only wait a moment, three seconds too many as your hand undoes the tight knot and the towel pools at his feet and your knees on the floor.

He’s just as he always is—thick and heavy from your proximity alone, hard and filled with the blood that pumps wildly in his veins. When you wrap your hand around him, the heft of his cock makes your cunt squeeze. You know exactly what it feels like to have the most intimate part of him carving out your insides, and god do you need it right now.

You give only one stroke and the effect is instant; Nanami hisses, fingers flexing at his sides, extending and then curling in a fist as a means to keep his hands to himself, the head of his mushroom tip red and prickles with a thick gathering of precum. Just the sight makes your mouth water.

“I found those things in your closet, you know,” you purr softly, stroking him at an excruciating pace. “You actually think you need something like that, baby?”

A flush creeps up Nanami’s neck, blooming across his cheeks in rushing embarrassment even though his pupils are dilated from the sight of you on your knees. He opens his mouth to speak, fumbling for words that choke around another hitch with your next stroke.

“You don’t feel like you would need something like that.” And you don’t wait a second longer, opening your mouth, dragging the flat of your tongue up the backside of his cock. Each taste bud slides against rigid bumps of veins, gathering with more spit as he groans from your attention. You offer a gentle kiss to his tip, licking the salty taste of his precum from your lips. “You sure don’t taste like you would need something like that.”

The rise and fall of his chest is quickly leaving the pace of steady, his eyes locked on you and jaw flexing with growing desperation. You squeeze his cock on an upward stroke, your own body beginning to heat up just from watching him fall apart.

“Look at you now,” you tease, widening the gap between your knees, the heat between your legs radiating against your ankles. “You don’t look like you need help. Responding so beautifully to me. Not a hint of hesitation.”

The velvety hardness of him in your palm twitches from your words, hard steel that’s blazing hot, and just the sight of him above you is more than enough for a whine to build in your belly, an innate urge to have any part of him inside of you.

Nanami’s eyes flutter, long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones as you lean in. When you finally take him into your mouth, your name falls from his lips like a prayer, brown eyes rolling halfway to the back of his head, eyebrows furrowing in equal confusion and pleasure.

You’re too eager to give him time to adjust—tongue swirling around the crown of his head and softening underneath him before building a nice, slobbery rhythm. In and out, in and out. Every stroke of your mouth around his cock makes your mouth water even more and your body relax, the dig of the tile on your knees forgotten.

“Fuck,” he pants, the rare curse slipping from his lips as one hand comes to rest gently on the back of your head. You hum in appreciation—in encouragement—building his confidence to squeeze the curly strands. The vibration of your hum of attention causes Nanami’s hips to buck involuntarily and you let your throat relax without thinking, let him hit the back before you swallow around him. “I-” he bites his lip, groaning from deep in his chest.

The heat of the bathroom is suffocating, your neck covered in curls prickling with sweat, sliding down your clavicle and onto the towel around your breasts that’s quickly loosening. Or maybe it’s your own body burning from the inside out, your blood pounding and surging to your core, swelling with arousal that leaks from you without even touching yourself.

And you’re dripping. The hand not at the base of him—stroking what you can’t swallow—reaches between your thighs, rubbing a clit that’s sopping wet with slick that drips between your fingers and onto the tile floor.

It doesn’t take long for that familiar ache to build in your jaw, a growing reminder of the thick cock between your mouth. But his throaty moans keep you going, keep your cunt pulsing and squeezing around the two fingers that quickly slide inside of you.

Nanami’s eyes, dark with desire, take you in—your messy hand twisting at the base of his cock, the hint of saliva on your chin, the prickle of tears at the corners of your eyes from the way he keeps hitting the back of your throat. Only he gets to see you like this. Only he gets to be with someone who will stop at nothing to make him feel supported and loved over something as trivial as a night of bad luck.

“I…you’re…” he gasps, unable to complete his thoughts when you moan around him. “Please just—just keep…don’t stop…don’t—”

As the tension builds, Nanami’s control begins to slip. His thrusts lose their measured control, the hands in your hair tighten, the quick breath from his mouth becomes tight as he bares his teeth and fucks your mouth. His abs are glistening with sweat, tight and flexing as he fights to stay sane.

You’re ready to burst from the seams, pleasure coiling at the base of your spine with each curl of your fingers inside of you, moans tight and sporadic in a familiar sign of your impending orgasm.

It’s when his eyes catch you fingering yourself that his control snaps in half, setting him off. He’s grabbing at you, yanking you from your knees with a strength that shocks you, your towel finally falling off your body and exposing you to the heat of the bathroom. Before you can protest, Nanami moves in a flourish, the last threads of his control dissolving at the shocked but excited gasp that leaves your lips.

In one fluid motion, he spins you around to face the bathroom mirror. Your breath catches at the sight of you both—flushed, desire-drunk, tanned and freckled muscles pressed against your back. His eyes meet yours in the reflection, a primal hunger burning in their depths, black eating away the warm brown.

The press of his cock against your lower back makes you arch your back, leaning over the counter without a second thought, taking him in through the mirror. His hands roam over your body with renewed confidence, cupping the heaviness of your breasts, sliding down tiger-striped brown skin to grip your hips. His eyes trail over the mess of curls on your sweaty back, the curve of your ass, the glistening of your cunt as it catches in the bathroom light.

He looks focused, almost angry—determined to make sure he does exactly what he’s supposed to do. Your body shivers in anticipation. This is the Nanami you’ve been missing—strong, confident, and utterly, deliciously yours.

Without preamble, you part your legs more, opening yourself up to his leering gaze as he watches you slide two fingers through your sopping folds. “I need you,” you whisper, your other hand kneading the flesh of a breast, pinching the nipple to make you arch your back more into him.

He presses forward at the sound of your voice, a beacon for him to bring you whatever you desire. “You have me.”

You feel him, hot and hard against you, and you can’t stifle the moan that escapes you. “All of you Kento,” you whimper, pushing back against him and stroking your clit faster, your slick sliding down your fingers to the center of your palm. “No more holding back, no more doubts. Show me how much you want me.”

In the mirror, the trepidation in his eyes, the worry between his brows. The disappointment from that night is surely playing in his head, teasing him evilly that he will never be able to make love to you again. But you won’t let him feel that way again, you’ll never let him feel inadequate. So you turn slightly to reach behind you, smooth a hand up the side of his face, caressing his jaw, angling your head to the side to kiss him softly. “You’re perfect,” you breathe, the words barely a whisper between you both, the perfect combination to relax the subtle tension in his shoulders. “So perfect for me, Kento.”

He releases a shaky exhale against your lips from your words, the vibration traveling through your body where you’re pressed together. With one hand braced on your waist, the other guiding himself, his eyes not leaving yours, Nanami pushes into you slowly. Finally. Twenty-five days too late and the feeling of completeness, of absolute rightness, is overwhelming. It’s as if a missing piece of you has been slotted back into place.

You whimper, panting into his mouth, sliding your lips messily against his. Your body stretches to accommodate him, a delicious burn that makes your toes curl and your cunt pulse around him.

“Oh fuck, Kento,” you keen, “you’re so fucking big—fill me so well—” His hips snap forward, cutting you off, a sharp cry punching from your lungs.

“I-I shouldn’t have—” he pants against your lips, ready to apologize from the force but you don’t let him finish.

“Yes,” you encourage, your voice breathy from the delicious zing of pleasure that throbs between your legs. “You feel amazing, Ken. So perfect.”

He shivers from your words and starts a slow, almost tentative rhythm. But your continued praise spurs him on. His thrusts become more confident, more forceful, driving you both higher in the stifling heat of your bathroom.

The room fills with the sounds of sex—the slick smack of skin on skin, breathless moans from his full lips, whispered praises from your mouth.

“So good,” you moan softly. “You feel so good inside me.” The hand on your clit resumes its pace, wanting Nanami to be fully immersed in focusing so he can get past this terrible roadblock in his mind.

“More,” he demands, kissing you deeply, the side of your jaw, nibbling your ear, begging you silently for more love and praise. “I-I have to know I’m doing well. That I’m making you feel good—"

“You are,” you gasp, his name a prayer on your lips as he hits that spot deep inside you that makes white spots blot the edges of your vision. “You are—you are, Kento—shit fuck me harder. Give it to me.”

He bends to your will immediately, the pull of your voice—of your demands as easy as breathing, and he’ll give whatever it takes to make sure he can lay everything at your feet. “Fuck,” he groans, digging his fingers into the meat behind your knee, yanking it up onto the counter and you’re opening more, wider for him to slide in further.

It’s messy and animalistic, a building of sweat between your sliding bodies, a gradual intensifying thrum between your legs with each smack of his balls against you. Your body jerks with each thrust, pleasure scratching down your skin with sharp nails as your mind grows hazy, mouth falling open as the tip of his cock kisses that sweet spot inside of you, over and over and over with each inward stroke. The hand on your clit flies up to grab the sweaty porcelain of the sink in front of you, fingernails digging into the rubbery sealant along the sides. The other hand reaches back to tangle your fingers in his hair.

You’ve gone almost a month without him in the most primal way and your body is struggling to keep up. Your lungs struggle to pull in enough air, your slick-coated fingers slip against the sink, your hips burn from the open angle of one leg up on the counter.

But you can’t bring it in yourself to care, too deep in bliss to worry about your wellbeing, the pressure at the base of your spine building and building, molten pleasure bubbling in your gut as you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

“That’s it, baby,” you gasp as you both climb together, meeting his thrusts as the tension coils tighter in your core. “You’re so strong. Love me so well. Fuck me so well.” Nanami groans harshly, shivering from your praise, reaching down to stroke your neglected clit, and you tense around him, choking at the pleasure that wraps around your throat, your cunt pulsing as it tries to swallow his cock and never let it leave.

You watch in the mirror as Nanami loses himself in the moment, all his doubts and insecurities forgotten. His face is a mask of pleasure and concentration, his body moving with a grace and power that takes your breath away. His hips falter, stuttering briefly to signal his match of mounting pleasure. He leans over you, his face in the crease of your neck, body bowing over to make you press further into the counter, teeth grazing your skin as he groans and pants against you with feral need.

He presses his fingers harder against your clit, rubs with a practiced motion and you’re tensing against the counter, scrambling for purchase on the sink as high-pitched keens shake from your throat. “Fuck right there, Kentooo,” you moan tightly. He moans harshly into the skin of your neck, relishing in the way your hot and wet walls tighten around him, doubling down, the fingers on your waist digging crescent moons into your skin. “Make me cum. Oh fuck, make me cum pleasepleaseplease—”

The hand in his hair tightens around silky strands, your body tenses up, your nose scrunching, pleasure pulsing and building in your cunt as you climb and climb and climb until you shatter.

A cry of his name, loud and primal, rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. Ecstasy floods your system in overwhelming waves, each one threatening to pull you under. Tears gather in the corners of your tightly shut eyes, born from the sheer intensity of your release.

And like always, your pulsing walls are the final push Nanami needs. He thrusts into you harshly with deep punctuating strokes until his balls draw tight, fingers digging deeper, a deep, guttural groan shaking from his body as he finally climbs up that wall of shame and follows you over the edge, his release pulsing hot and deep inside you as your body continues to shudder with aftershocks.

Nanami doesn’t have the energy to pull out, collapsing onto you without grace. The cool counter against your cheek is a balm for your burning skin. As you both come down from your high, trembling and panting, you stroke his scalp with the hand still twisted in his sweaty hair, fading spots behind closed eyelids painting your vision.

After a few moments, Nanami stirs, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder before carefully withdrawing from your body. You whimper at the loss, but he soothes you with another soft kiss on your temple. You hear the sound of running water, the tub filling slowly as Nanami retrieves a warm, damp washcloth.

With tender care, he cleans you up, the soft cloth gliding over your sensitive skin. His touch is reverent, worshipful, as if he’s handling something precious beyond measure, and you melt further onto the counter. Once you’re clean, he guides your leg down from the counter, massaging the muscles of your hips and thighs to ease any lingering tension.

You let him lead you to the tub, sighing in bliss as you sink in the hot, soothing water. Nanami climbs in behind you, pulling you back against his chest as he settles you between his legs. The heat seeps into your aching muscles, the steam smelling faintly of lavender, the gentle lapping of the water against your skin a soothing lullaby.

For a long moment, you simply rest together, your head tipped back on his shoulder, his arms wrapped securely around your waist as a thumb strokes the skin. The bathroom is quiet, save for the occasional drip of the faucet and your slow, even breathing.

Your mind drifts to the vulnerability you’ve witnessed in Nanami, the raw, unguarded moments he’s bared his deepest fears and insecurities. And only you will be the one to see that. You’ll be the only one to build him back up when he’s stripped down, to remind him of his worth, to love through every storm. Even storms that are as weak and barely damaging as limp dick.

“Thank you,” he finally speaks, rich voice vibrating against your skin, filling you with warmth from the inside out. He nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply as if to memorize the smell of your leave-in. “For being patient with me…for being supportive…” You feel the tension drain from his body as he exhales, slowly, as if he’s releasing the last of his worries into the steam-filled air. “I love you. Deeply.”

You smile softly to yourself at the declaration and turn your head to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkling with a mix of adoration and mischief.

“This wasn’t an easy assignment you know,” you tease, your voice lighthearted even as emotion threatens to overwhelm you. “I expect payment for my unwavering devotion.”

Nanami’s eyes, hazy with post-orgasmic bliss, roll playfully, a smile tugging the edges of his lips. “What’s my bill?”

"Moissanite,” you declare matter-of-factly, nestling back against his broad chest with a contented sigh. “The carats are up to you, but—“

“A gold band,” Nanami interjects, warm with affection and certainty. “Emerald cut. I have it memorized, my love.”

He punctuates his words with a tender kiss to your temple, his arms tightening around you as if he never wants to let go. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest, a kaleidoscope of butterflies set free by his words.

“The box in the closet? Throw the penis pump and the Viagra in the trash,” you add, playfully jabbing your elbow into his side. “You won’t be needing those anymore.”

Nanami’s laughter rumbles through you, a deep, satisfying sound that fills the room and washes over your skin like a physical caress. “And if I want to be prepared, just in case?” he counters, his tone light and teasing.

“You’re 28, not 50,” you remind him, your own laughter mingling with his.

“Humor me.”

“I guess I could gather up all the magazines, powders, supplements, and various “aids” and present them to you in a nice box for you to use one day. Of course, you’d be single, so I’m not sure what good they’d do you then.”

Nanami’s body shakes with mirth, his breath puffing warm and sweet against your hair. “In the trash they go.”

You hum in agreement, an eyebrow raised before you tilt your chin. And like always, because you never have to ask, Nanami obliges, his lips slanting over yours in a slow, deep caress that steals your breath and fills your heart all at once.

Thanks for reading!

[yuquinzel]

from this list of prompts!

“here comes the airplane!” “i can feed myself.” “too bad.”

“what... are you trying to do?” sae shoots you the look of a raised eyebrow and lips twisted in confusion, eyeing the spoonful of porridge in your hand and the mischievous smile he’s come to adore.

currently he sits on his bed, tucked in all the fluffliest and warmest blankets you could find in his apartment. which weren’t a lot, so he’s also wrapped in his own hoodies. you even made a comment about him looking like deflated baymax — he had glared at you, you laughed even more.

sae doesn’t get sick a lot, and when he does, he’d most likely brush it off as normal cold that would go away on its own or whatever, which is also the reason behind his bad habit of never telling you about the times he is sick.

although you find out anyway, and sae guesses it’s because his manager is working double ways. well, he doesn’t really mind it either. because each time it leads to our current situation — which, although he never has and never will admit — is something he always looks forward to. and if he's being honest, he wouldn’t mind getting sick on purpose for the very reason.

“isn’t it obvious? I’m trying to handfeed you.” you say, in a manner of declaring an obvious fact.

“no, don’t do that.” he deadpans. ( he’s hiding his smile. )

“here comes the airplane!” you ignore him, slowly bringing the spoonful towards him.

“i can feed myself.” although he makes no visible effort to back away, he scrunches his nose. his eye travel to the porridge, then to you and back to the spoonful. he sighs.

“too bad,” you say, and sae isn’t given much choice but to oblige, “i’m gonna do it anyway.”

of course you will.

he rolls his eyes, you peer down at him expectantly, “well??”

“...well what?” his cheeks are puffed out like a hamster. but you would never say that out loud and risk your chances of seeing him like this again. you have to bite back a laugh. although you can’t resist the smile tugging at your lips.

“is it any good?” your smile grows.

“it’s... porridge. is it ever good?” he says dryly.

“yeah, but I’m handfeeding you! doesn’t being taken care of this way by the love of your life sway your heart?” you gasp dramatically, and sae lets out a weak chuckle.

“meh,” he laughs at the way your face drops from grinning like an excited child to that of a serious middle aged man. ( :D to :| )

“fine. then, enjoy it yourself.” you try to hand him the bowl, but he holds down your hands instead.

sae looks at you with a precise gaze, keeping yours on him. it’s serious and unwavering, although to a stark contrast to his cheeks and mouth. both sweetly pouted like that of a child’s. then he parts his lips, slightly so, mirroring your expectant expression from before.

“you’re really going to leave the love of your life by himself when he’s sick?” his eyes shine. a playful chuckle leaves his lips when you roll your eyes.

it’s the side effects of the medicines you’ve been forcing him to take. that must be it. but for now, sae can’t bring himself to give half a damn.

“well, i thought the love of my life didn’t need me to take care of him.” your thumb traces the corner of his mouth, sae bites it playfully. he kisses it just seconds later when you frown.

“i’m actually so sick i could die right now.” he laughs. side effects of the medicines, really.

you roll your eyes at him, bringing the spoonful to him again. “how’s the porridge now?”

“it’s meh,” he says again, ignoring the self assured smirk you wear, “but i’ll work with it.”

“i thought you could feed yourself?” you bring another spoonful to his lips, and he obliges instantly this time.

“i am the love of your life. it’s the least you could do.”

you bite back a laugh at that, sae is a little more unguarded than usual when he’s sick. it’s cute.

“baby”

“yes?”

“baby as in you’re a baby. it’s derogatory.”

it’s his turn to roll his eyes, “yeah, yeah.” he parts his lips once again.

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

@luvether saw ur answer on my alt bae here u go I’m dumping my bllk drafts just for u :3

@kyoghurts daddy’s home

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Rafayel: Questions Answered | NSFW

Here it is. It took almost a month, but we finally have our questions answered about Rafayel and his Lemurian Form! Enjoy the smut, it's a...it's a lot.

❧ Pairings: Rafayel x Reader ❧ Warnings: Non-Human Genitalia, Two Dicks, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Blow Job, Hand Job, Cum Swallowing, Creampie, Unsafe Sex, Mentions of Egg Laying, Biting, Scratching, Fucked Dumb, Pool Sex, Underwater Sex, Mentions of Safe Words, Enthusiastic Consent, Switch Rafayel, Riding, Missionary, Switch Reader ❧ Synopsis: You and Rafayel go out to his pool and you finally get questions answered about Lemurian Anatomy. ❧ Word Count: 14k Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (here)- AO3

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

Questions Answered

Rafayel looked down at your face which was covered in curiosity as you stared right back into him. He looked away bashfully, and turned to the pool as if thinking things over for a moment. For some reason you didn’t feel the least bit nervous about the entire situation, but it appeared that Rafayel had a few reservations. This would be the first time you ever saw him in his Lemurian form, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was worried you’d dislike it.

“So whatcha gonna do?” you said, garnering the man’s attention as he looked at you with furrowed brows, a question ready to leave him about what you meant. “You gonna touch the water and then I get to yell ‘Oh naaaaaaur, Cleuuuuuuur!’ or what?” you watched as Rafayel closed his eyes, a smile playing on the corner of his lips.

He shook his head and coughed into his hand to hide the laugh that wanted to escape, “You think you’re so funny, huh?” he said, his tone going more natural as the tension eased.

“Oh I think I’m hilarious,” you said and then made grabby hands, “Now get over here for a second,” you coaxed him over. Rafayel didn’t need to be told a second time as he walked over and caged you between his arms. You giggled and grabbed his shirt, dragging him down to crash his lips into your own. You moaned against him, enjoying how he always just went for it in moments like these. There was no hesitation as he deepened the kiss, nibbling your lower lip to seek entrance into your mouth.

You took one hand to place on the nape of his neck, grabbing some of his hair in the process as you dragged him closer. You felt him groaning into your mouth while he crawled onto the pool chair. His legs caged you in as his hand grabbed your chin and kept you in place. His tongue explored, pressing against the roof of your mouth and driving you crazy. The taste of him had always been intoxicating; he was sweet all the time and it was so uniquely associated with him that you don’t think you’d find it anywhere else.

The hand that was playing with his shirt began unbuttoning it as you decided you were done playing around. You wanted to feel his skin pressing against yours already. You were so slick you could feel it on your inner thighs since you opted to just wear a hoodie and underwear for your movie night. You were throbbing between your legs as you squeezed them together to alleviate the pressure; you worked in removing his shirt as fast as you could just to see him.

Rafayel could see the need in the way you kissed him and clumsily worked the buttons. His larger hand enveloped your own as he helped you in taking off the shirt. He pulled it out from where it was tucked in his pants and tossed it to the side. Instantly your hands were on him, touching every piece of him you could. He felt so hot under your fingertips, his heart was also going wild as he groaned after your hand went over one of his nipples.

When your lips parted you surged forward, leaving more kisses and bites all over his chest; you made sure to give attention to the small mole he had, staring up at him as he gasped. His hands had gone down to play with the hem of your hoodie, wanting to take it off. He cleared his throat as he spoke, “You know, it’s strange to have someone watch me,” he said after your lips left his chest. 

He went to take off your hoodie with ease, tossing it with his shirt to who knows where. His hand cupped one of your breasts since it was now his turn to enjoy your naked body. His mouth was instantly latching onto one of your nipples, sucking on it harshly and getting a small keen from you as your hips rolled up into nothingness. 

“I can look away if you’d prefer,” you groaned, your grasp on the back of his head helped you pull him closer to your chest as he laved at the skin there. One hand played with your nipple on the other side, pinching it between his thumb and pointer finger.

Rafayel got closer to you on the chair, nudging your legs open with his knee. You wrapped them around his waist and he started to grind his pulsating length against your center. All your motions were needy, filled with lust as you tried working your hips in time with his own. Just feeling him like this was driving you crazy and you needed so much more. You were tired of feeling his cock through layers, you needed to feel it against you, inside of you, you wanted everything right now.

You shifted yourself on the lounger, taking your hand to go over the front of his pants. You cupped him through it and Rafayel let out a pleased noise, grinding into your palm now. He was panting against your chest, still working on your nipples and driving you crazy. Your hand began going to his belt as you did your best to unclasp the intricate buckle.

It wasn’t too hard after doing it a million times at this point. You unzipped his pants and worked them off his hips until his cock sprang free. It was already leaking from the reddened tip causing it to glisten under the current lighting. You groaned and wrapped your hand around the length and gave it a few pumps, spreading the precum around the shaft.

He let out the prettiest noise as he continued bucking into your hand before stopping. He grabbed your wrist, stopping you from working on his cock, and he looked at you with eyes that were now darkened from how badly he needed you right now. His cheeks were a beautiful scarlet tone, and he shivered as soon as his eyes looked over your body. 

You probably looked as desperate as him; your lips were wet and swollen from his kisses, nipples were hardened from his teasing, and your underwear clearly had a wet patch in the front which was obvious with how your legs were spread with your knees up on the chair. Your chest heaved as you tried calming yourself down; you hadn’t even gotten to the main event of the night, and already you were about to cum untouched because of this man.

“If you keep this up, I’m going to cum before we even get into the water,” he warned you, almost speaking your exact thoughts. You still let out a disappointed whine, but he was right. You wanted to go for as many rounds as he would allow you, so you needed to make sure he didn’t get tired out too fast

“That won’t do…” you murmured and then looked at him with a smile, “How about I finish getting undressed, and you get into the pool, okay? I’ll turn around,” you suggested. Rafayel let out an amused noise as he looked down at you. 

He raised an eyebrow as he spoke, “Ah yes, because you still have a long way to go before you’re naked,” he said, his hand playing with the edge of your underwear. You shot him a small, pouty look, he did have a point though. All you had on was a pair of underwear and as soon as they were gone you’d be completely bare.

“Just get into the water babes,” you said, pressing a hand on his chest to get him off of you. He laughed and stood up. He took off the rest of his pants and tossed them to the side where the rest of the clothes pile was currently lying. When he turned around you took a moment to admire his ass as he walked to the edge of the water.

Before he could get in you were getting up and turning away. You heard a splash behind you as you took your underwear, bending down at the waist as you took them off. You knew he could see everything if he was looking your way as you bent over, your pussy on full display for him. The way your arousal stuck to your underwear, creating a small string that snapped you pulled them off of you.

Rafayel whistled from behind you, clearly enjoying the mini show. You chuckled, “Enjoying the show?” you asked and spun around. As soon as you saw him your mouth opened in awe. This was…certainly something you could’ve never imagined. How this man got even more stunning like this was otherworldly.

His tail was larger than you thought with the ends of it draped down past the tanning area and into the main pool. The scales were a light blue, but they shone in the moonlight with speckles of lavender on his iridescent scales. It was lined with dorsal fins that started right where his human half was and went all the way down until they landed at the end of the tail where the fins were long and delicate in appearance.

He had blue markings on his skin where the scales scattered over them, in fact all of the new assets were that pretty blue that glimmered in the light. His hands were webbed with claws at the end, the colors went up to his wrists where they tapered off into scales. His ears were now fins seemed to twitch under your gaze, and the scales on his face were more prominent. He also had slits along the sides of his neck which almost seemed to glow slightly, you could only assume them to be gills. His eyes definitely glowed as they stared up at you with nerves hidden behind them.

“Breathtaking…” it was the only words that could leave your mouth as you stared at him. Was it possible to love this man anymore? You were certain you had just fallen head over heels all over again as your feet dragged you closer until your ankles were in the water, wading over to him almost in a trance like state. You wanted to touch him and see if those scales were as soft as they looked.

“Was I not breathtaking before,” there was some hesitation in his voice as he asked this. Your eyes softened as you smiled at him. You knelt down in the water after you were close enough to him; you cupped his cheek and your thumb went over the scales there. His eyes shifted away from yours for a moment as he waited for your reply.

“You’ve always been breathtaking Raf, this is just a new version of it,” you murmured and leaned closer to place a kiss right next to his eye. You could feel his lashes fluttering closed as you gave him this sweet moment of attention, “I love you, you know that, right?” you murmured, your hand still caressing him to show you meant what you said.

“I know, I love you as well,” he said after a moment of silence, “And I trust you. I wouldn’t be like this if I didn’t,” his eyes opened to lock onto your own. You brushed your nose against his own and giggled, the man was too precious for words alone. You were easily the luckiest person to ever walk this planet since you got to have him by your side.

“Are you still fine if we continue on?” you asked him, “I’d be fine with just cuddling in the water like this if you’d want,” you wanted to give him a final opportunity to opt out of this. You knew you still wanted this, probably more than ever after seeing this form. Still, he was the one putting everything out in the open for you right now, letting you see him like this was a huge step in your relationship.

He groaned as he took your hand and placed a kiss on your palm, “Please, I need you to touch me. I’m not above begging for it if that’s what it takes,” his voice no longer wavered after that. Seeing how well you responded had filled him with more confidence. He knew his form was different from what some people expected from Lemurians. They always left out key details like the claws, teeth, and even ears. It was more ‘monstrous’ he assumed to be spoken about. Humans only wanted to see the beautiful things, not the reality of it. Still, you looked at him with so much longing in your eyes that he felt better, happy that you hadn’t rejected him.

“What’s the safeword for the night?” you asked him and he took a moment to think about it, his hand rubbing across your knuckles as he thought.

“Pufferfish?” he asked and you nodded with a chuckle.

“Alright, from this point onward if someone says pufferfish, we full stop and cuddle for the rest of the evening?” you asked.

“Sounds good to me,”Rafayel let go of your hand, allowing you to freely touch him however you wished. Your hand went to his ear, touching the fins there. They moved as soon as your hands made contact, wiggling a bit. You hummed at the response, using your fingers to touch the soft fins. You heard Rafayel let out a groan at the sensation of it, opening his mouth after you pinched them gently.

You slowly moved your hand down to his neck where the scales and gills were, remembering the first time you had seen them…well the scales at least; the gills were certainly a new thing for your eyes. When you had touched his scales for the first time he had snapped away on Ebb Day, grabbing your wrist and stopping you. The memory made you smile as you leaned in and kissed them, feeling how his throat moved as he attempted to hold still. You brushed your lips right where his gills were and he let out another pretty moan from that.

“Remember the day I found out you were a Lemurian,” you asked, voice a little softer in the moment. Rafayel looked at you as you rose up from his neck.

“Ya, I recall, it’s a little bit hard to forget,” he muttered. How could he forget, he had wanted to take you that day. He had tried dragging you onto his lap, grabbing your hand and trailing it down his open shirt in a desperate need for contact. You had been so insistent that you two didn’t do anything that day, saying he wasn’t in the right state of mind. He had been annoyed at the time, his need for you had been burning hotter than it ever had before, but now he was thankful you hadn’t let him just rush in.

“I wanted you all the way back then, you know. It took everything in me not to keep touching you,” you cupped his jaw and placed a kiss to the corner of his lips. He groaned, wanting more as he tried getting you to properly kiss him, “I’m damn glad that I had found out that day though. Everything about you makes way more sense ever since then,” you said.

You finally gave him what he wanted, letting your lips connect with his own. He moaned the moment you began kissing him, your lips working in tandem with his own. It wasn’t like before where you two were heated, desperately licking into one another's mouth. This time it was slower, and Rafayel was savoring every moment of it.

His hand went to your head, keeping you in place. The sensation was different as you felt the nails scraping gently on your head. It was almost like a massage and had you whimpering against him, feeling how the webbing made his hold feel more secure. He nipped at your lips and you felt a stinging sensation and gasped.

Rafayel left yours in a hurry, his hand now cupping your chin as he inspected it. You could taste copper and you knew he had accidentally cut your lip, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he looked like he regretted it, and his voice was near panic, but you just chuckled and went to calm him.

“It’s fine Raf, I didn’t realize you had sharper teeth. Lemme see them, come on, smile for me pretty boy,” you cooed. Rafayel let out a slightly annoyed groan, realizing his concern clearly wasn’t something that was bothering you. Still, he opened up his mouth to let you see inside.

It wasn’t just his fangs that were sharper, but everything was. His teeth were like little razor points that had you shivering. His tongue was also blue, which hadn’t been something you were expecting. Still, you liked what you saw as you leaned in and kissed his bottom lip. That was all the encouragement he needed as he grabbed you again, locking your mouth against his own.

His tongue licked at the blood he had left on it and it was more soothing than you had thought, almost numbing the feeling entirely. His tongue prodded into your mouth, going against your teeth and making your entire body shudder. You decided it was best to let him take over as you didn’t want your tongue to be cut up.

As he kissed you and attempted to take your breath away your hand trailed down his chest. They grazed over his nipple gently and you felt his tail brush up against your thigh. Your curiosity led you to finally taking your hand lower. At first you played with the area where his tail connected to his torso, savoring how it felt. You noticed a distinct lack of a belly button in this form and opted not to comment on it for now. You’d ask later, but at the moment your hand was trailing lower.

The scales were slimier than you thought, but they weren't uncomfortable. You went with the way they grew out first, and when you went the opposite direction you were pleased to see they didn’t cut you. You had heard stories about Lemurian scales being sharp, but it seemed that was another false rumor as your hands went against him.

Rafayel let out a whine as your hands played with his tail, the appendage almost thrashing in the water from your touch. You could feel the cool water as it splashed over you which only caused you to chuckle with amusement. He was so damn sensitive, which was something he had warned you about, but seeing it in action was amazing. You couldn’t wait to see how he’d be reacting once you properly began fucking.

“You’re definitely more sensitive than usual,” you comment, your hands never ceasing their exploration of his body. Seeing him squirm, how his stomach seemed to tense whenever your hands went over his scales. Everything about this experience was already more than you could’ve imagined, especially when you heard him moan as you pressed down on his tail.

“I’ve never had someone touch me like this in this form…and it’s not often I get to take it,” he reminded you, gasping when your hands began working their way down even more. 

You were searching for something, your hands running around the front of his tail. You were looking for a different texture somewhere on him, letting out a hum when you found it. The scales in this area were softer to the touch, almost like his skin, and you knew it was exactly what you thought it was when Rafayel’s tail trashed even more.

Your fingers gently began prodding against him, pressing in and the digits started to slip inside of it. It was warm inside of his vent, and very wet. The viscous fluids coating your fingers as you worked one into it, you had  a proud smirk when he let out one of the most melodic moans he had ever graced your ears with.

His mouth was open, “Ah-ah-ha f-fuck, w-wait a second,” he managed to groan out, his hand coming over to your wrist. Your fingers stopped their ministrations inside of his wet vent reluctantly, waiting to get the greenlight from him. As soon as you stopped fingering him he was able to catch his breath and looked at you in surprise.

“How did you…find that so fast?” Rafayel finally managed to say, his voice low and husky as he looked down at where your hand was. You were gently playing with the scales at the entrance of the vent, but not dipping your fingers in until he said you could.

“I might’ve read a few…stories in preparation. They were all fantasy of course but…it seems this part was accurate. I assume your dick is in here?” You admitted to him. You had read more than your fair share of stories actually, and every single one had made reference to a vent of some sort on the front of their tail. It made the most logical sense, you just hadn’t expected it to feel almost like a pussy on the inside. It had made your mouth watered at the thought of delving your tongue between the scales and getting a good taste of your boyfriend.

Rafayel seemed to have calmed down a little more while he worked through the surprise of you just somehow knowing these things, “Ya, a little too accurate…” he muttered out, his eyes now locking onto your hand, “Yes, my…dick is in there,” he finally confirmed, making you smirk. You couldn’t wait to see what they’d be looking like. So far everything about Rafayel’s appearance had been more than you expected in the most pleasant of ways.

“Alright, then may I?” you asked, wanting to continue your prodding, figure out how to make him scream while he took this form. He took a deep breath and nodded his head, giving his consent for you to continue on. You fought back the urge to do a small happy dance, instead opting to place your fingers back into your boyfriend's vent.

This time you insert two of your fingers into his slick vent, allowing the fluids to help ease your way into it. You couldn’t go too deep into it, only able to fit up to your second knuckle before you were stopped by something inside of his vent. They felt slimy and smooth as your fingers began stroking it, noticing how they moved against your fingers.

Rafayel let out a guttural moan as his head was thrown back from your ministrations, clearly enjoying himself.  Your fingers continue to tease what you assumed was his cock trying to escape from his vent. It was pushing closer to your fingers, almost pushing them out as you continued stroking it leisurely, listening to your boyfriend’s broken moans flowing into the night.

Rafayel’s dick continues to push against your finger as you continue stroking it, allowing the gentle push to guide your fingers out. You could see the top peeking out of his vent and let out a small groan. Just from the heads poking out you knew another one of your observations had been correct. You touched the tips of them, watching Rafayel’s hips rolling up into your touch.

“I knew it, there were two of them,” you chuckled, watching as they slowly started to emerge. They were following the warmth of your hand as you continued playing with them. Rafayel already looked to be an absolute wreck as they made their way out.

“Y-ya, there’s mhm f-fuck, two of t-them,” he bit out, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes as he tried calming himself down some. He had expected it to feel amazing to have you touching him while in this form, but he hadn’t expected it to be this good. You hadn’t even really begun doing anything to him yet, and already he was about to cum. His body was over sensitive, especially to your touch.

“I wonder if I can get them both inside of me,” you were musing, watching as they finally emerged from the vent. Rafayel couldn’t even form a verbal response to your lewd comment, he could only let out another groan as he felt how you wrapped your hand around one of his cocks, gently applying pressure to see what felt good. 

The thought of you taking both of his cocks at the same time sent waves of pleasure through him, his cocks pulsating against your grasp. Your eyes widened as you really took in the appearance of his dicks.

They were super slick to the touch, being covered in a thick, viscous fluid that his vent seemed to be coated in as well. They were tentacle-like, one on top of the other with tapered ends and were fairly thick at the base where they came out of. They were so thick at the base, in fact, that you wondered if it would even be capable of going inside of you. 

The tip of his cocks were a nice pretty pinkish purple tone, and then it had a gradient that went down the shafts until it got to the base where it turned to the familiar blue. There were scales at the base as well, though they didn’t shine like the rest. The bottom cock was smaller than the top, but even then the bottom was probably around the normal size of his cock in his human form.

You watched as the bottom cock moved, wrapping around your wrist as you began moving your hand along the top one. Your eyes widened as you realized they were prehensile. Now whether Rafayel could control them or if they had a mind of their own, you had no clue.

His cocks were perfectly smooth to the touch, no ridges in sight on it other than the base. The texture was silky like his normal cock, and they were definitely pretty as your hand began pumping them. You couldn’t help but watch as his tail fins swayed in the water and his hands clenched into fists. His eyes were closed as his head was dropped, just giving into the feeling of your hands on him as he panted into the balmy summer air. 

The texture of his dick reminded you of a soft cock almost, a bit squishy if you had to think about it as you squeezed and heard a whine coming from the back of Rafayel’s throat. You stopped doing that, not knowing if that was a good or bad sign. Instead you trailed your hands down further onto his cock until you were right at the base.

The pretty scales on it were scattered about on his cock and you wanted to feel them on your fingers. You pressed down on a patch of the scales at the base of his top one, noticing just how plush they were. They didn’t even feel like scales, instead it was just a nice texture at the base as you trailed your fingers over them, enjoying the smooth bumps under your fingers.

You could hear Rafayel cry out from how you touched the scales, the cock that wrapped around your wrist squeezing down as much as it could as if trying to hold your hand in place. You felt how they both pulsed in your grasp as his breathing got shallower. Then it was the oddest feeling with the one around your wrist.

Being able to feel his cum as it went through it, pushing it out of the tip of his cock was something completely new to you. Normally you could feel how his cock pulsed when he was about to cum, but this was entirely different.

You worked his top cock as watery cum began to shoot out of the tip, the translucent pearlescent liquid coating his tail underneath and getting washed away in the water. The cock on your wrist also began pumping out cum, the fluid coating your arm as it trailed down and then dripped into the water below, letting the small ripples wash it away. It was thinner than his normal cum as you observed it, but there was also something else that was different about it.

The fact that it was glowing.

As Rafayel’s cocks pushed the last bit of cum out of the tips you looked at the bluish-teal glow. It reminded you of when he took you to a sea cave where there were bioluminescent creatures and the water below them was covered in a thick layer of the glowing substance. As it dispersed in the water it glowed gently and you looked up at Rafayel with awestruck eyes. It was different, and for the hundredth time that evening you found yourself just awestruck by the beauty that was this man. Everything about him was just taking your breath away, and you understood why someone was willing to follow a Lemurian into the depth of the sea to their demise. You would step off the cliff into the depths yourself if you knew Rafayel would be waiting below the surface.

You looked up at Rafayel and expected his face to be scarlet, but instead his cheeks and chest were glowing as well. “Fuck…” you murmured, realizing just how different Lemurians were to what people always seemed to have thought. Nothing in anyone's readings could have possibly been able to describe just how ethereal they were. Seeing his cheeks lit up as his chest was heaving in an attempt to catch his breath had you wanting to just smother him in love and affection. How he could ever think you’d dislike this form of his was astonishing.

He had licked his lips as his eyes managed to start focusing again. He noticed you staring as your hands slowly left his cock. The cum that was coating your forearm glistened and you raised it to your mouth, wanting to taste him. He let out a long groan at seeing your tongue poking out, licking up some of his release from your arm.

Rafayel’s cum in this form was definitely saltier than normal, but it wasn’t disgusting. In fact there was a hidden sweetness to it that had you moaning. You were almost concerned it would taste fishy, like caviar, but fate had other plans. You lapped at his release on your wrists, wanting to get a better taste of him as you swallowed the cum in your mouth and looked at him.

Your hands splashed in the water on either side of him as you leaned up. The glow on his cheeks was starting to go down a bit, but his eyes were still half lidded as he looked up at you. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, giggling at the little gasp that had left his lips. He was being cute right now, something that he commonly did when he was feeling more submissive. You wondered how long he would keep it up, if he would want to flip you over later and fuck you senseless like he often did when he was playing this game.

“So the scales at the base are a little sensitive, huh?” you chuckled; he had cum the moment your hands were on them. You looked at the small pout on your boyfriend's lips, knowing you were spot on. You wanted to see what would happen if you were pressing your tongue against it next.

“I wonder where you got that idea from,” he huffed, but the small pout went away when you cupped his chin and left a sweet kiss on his lips. Rafayel groaned as he could taste himself on you, his breathing picking up again as your lips moved against his own. You didn’t linger too long though, you still had a million and one things you wanted to do to this man. You pressed another kiss on his cheek as you sat up on your knees, allowing your hand to trail down and caressing one of his nipples.

“Will you be fine going a few more rounds?” you asked him, not knowing if he wanted to continue. This was the first time he had been touched like this in his Lemurian form, so you weren’t sure if he wanted to call it a day. His refractory period had always been insanely fast, so you knew he was capable of coming a few more times.

Rafayel nodded his head as he felt you touching his chest, “Please, I need more,” his husky voice broke out as he let out a small whimper once you pinched his nipple. You chuckled at how cute and needy he was being. You threw one leg over his waist, straddling his tail. Your legs spread wide to accommodate how large he was underneath you.

“I want to taste you, Raf,” you admitted to him, earning a gasp from him. You went back on his tail and looked at the base, noticing his cocks were nowhere to be seen. They had retreated back into his vent and you looked up at him. Your hand trailing over the smooth area where his entrance was. You gave him a curious look, wondering why his cocks had withdrawn when they had just gotten started.

“They…do that after I cum…” he said with a breathy groan as he felt your fingers prodding his entrance once again, “T-they’ll come back out since I’m still worked up,” he moaned out this time with a gasp following shortly behind. You chuckled as you adjusted yourself until your chest was brushing up against his tail. The scales against your nipples adding stimulation you hadn’t expected you needed. Not to mention how your legs were spread on him, any time his tail twitched you felt it on your cunt.

“If I had kept touching them would they still have gone back in?” You asked, your breath fanning over his vent now. You had every intention of tasting him in every single way possible. You could never get enough of Rafayel, even when he was in his human form you liked having his cock in your mouth. Sometimes you’d just sit between his legs with his soft dick being warmed in your mouth, content to just be there.

“Ya, if you kept touching them after I came they’d s-stah ah-d-damn mhm, stay out,” he said, his sentence breaking off into a moan once he felt your tongue prodding against him. He was trying not to squirm, but just feeling the tip of your tongue licking at the entrance of his vent was driving wild. Lemurians had sharp teeth so he never even thought about oral sex in this form, let alone someone eating out his vent, so seeing you down there had his brain going haywire.

You pressed a kiss on top of his vent, feeling how it pulsed under your lips. You groaned as you licked it again, the slick fluids coating the outside where the softer scales were. You didn’t want to waste anymore time, allowing your tongue to prod into his entrance. You groaned at the taste, it was so much stronger inside of his vent. Not to mention the salt water from the pool was getting in it as you pushed your muscle into him.

The slick felt amazing as you used the tip of your tongue to explore the gummy walls of his vent, groaning at how he tasted. Rafayel’s hand went into your hair, the claws gently scraping against your scalp as he tried to be careful not to scratch you. He was panting, head thrown back from the new sensations. It felt better than he could’ve thought and he was realizing just why you enjoyed sitting on his face so much.

You groaned against him,  your tongue fucking into him, licking at his cocks that pushed up against your tongue. This rewarded you with a loud keen, Rafayel not even trying to stifle his noises like he often did when you were on top. Instead he just focused on the feeling of your tongue licking at his cocks while they were still nestled deep in his vent.

His tail began thrashing a little bit underneath you, which only had you moaning more as the scales were brushing against your clit and making you wetter than the water surrounding you. You were panting into his vent, feeling how his cocks were pressing against your tongue, begging to be released. As much as you wanted to see him cum while his dicks were inside of his vent, you wanted to have them in your mouth already.

You allowed the cocks to press out of his vent, licking them as your finger rubbed at the scales surrounding his vent. It seemed to be feeling good for Rafayel with his he was now biting his knuckles, the grip on your head getting a little bit tighter as he tugged on your hair.

You took his bottom cock into your mouth before it was even fully out of the vent, groaning at the heady taste of your boyfriend. The vibrations caused his hips to thrust up into your mouth. You let out a small mewl, the vibrations caused him to whimper. One of your hands was brushing the delicate area on the outside of his vent while the other went to wrap around his top cock, pumping it in your hand and enjoying just how easy it was to jerk him off with the sheer amount of slick that covered it.

As his cocks finally escaped the vent fully you began sucking on the bottom one in earnest, humming as you could feel it wiggling in your mouth. It was almost like a really thick tongue, and you didn’t hate it. Rafayel’s tail was still moving underneath you, causing it to grind and you began rolling your hips onto it, trying to see if you could cum as well just from this.

As his cock began slipping deeper into your throat you made a note how you weren’t choking on it like you normally would. You could feel a slight tingle in the back of your throat as you slid his length further into your waiting mouth, his cock being surprisingly still as it was in the depths of your tight throat.

The hand on his other cock continued pumping and you could see from your angle how it was leaking more of the fluid, dripping down onto the rest of his shaft and over your hand. Rafayel’s panting accompanied by the sound of water splashing was the only thing you could hear. Your tongue seemed to be working overtime on his cock, whenever it was just the tip remaining you laved at the slit at the top. It had Rafayel letting out all sorts of noises from above you.

The grip he had on your hair tightened again as he pushed you down further onto his dick, the slick appendage easily going down your throat. You hummed around it, making him let out a string of curses under his breath, “F-fuck mng so close, k-keep it up, love,” he said, praising you as he began rolling his hips up into your open mouth.

You allowed him to throat fuck you, your eyes now on him as you started pumping his top cock faster, wanting to see him cum again. The glow on his cheeks were back as he looked down at you with a fucked out expression, his mouth open to allow the several hushed moans and murmurs of praise for you.

Your hips never stopped their movement, your pussy slick and sliding easily on his equally slimy tail. Your thighs were already quivering and you knew you were close, the texture of his scales helping bring you closer to the edge. You moaned around his cock and that was enough as he held your face down now, thrusting up into you as he came.

Watching Rafayel cum was always a sight to see, how he always had his mouth hanging open and not bothering to hide the noises. His panting, the way his chest was heaving, the scrunch of his eyebrows. Everything was there to paint a picture that was prettier than he could ever come up with on a canvas. You only wished you could watch it longer, but at the moment you had other problems on your hands.

You had to close your eyes, his top cock had been above your head and when he came it went into your hair and got onto your face. You eyes shut just in case some dribbled down into your eyes, though you doubted it. Your throat was also working overtime, his cum going down it as you tried swallowing it all. You had noted how much he had cum the first time, but it was so different when it was in your own mouth.

You could only moan, some of his cum leaked out the corners of your mouth and down your chin as you tried to take him all in. Your let out small whines as it got to be too much, the way his tail was moving underneath you had made the tension coiling in your stomach snap as you reached your own peak, your pussy rutting down onto his tail as you came together.

Once you were certain none of his cum would be getting in your eyes you opened them back up, glimpsing Rafayel. He was looking down at your quivering from, admiring you. The fins on his ears were twitching, fluttering on his head as he heaved a few breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control. You felt his hand letting off your head, the claws retreating and making you let out another whine at the loss.

Your boyfriend was sometimes too cute for words. You could finally pop off his cock, letting out a few coughs as you tried wiping the slick coating your chin. It didn’t do much as you looked up at Rafayel. He seemed pretty amused by you, but let out a hiss when you began stroking both cocks again. You had no intention of letting them go back into their vent this time around.

Once they were squirming again, one trying to pull your wrist closer, you finally took your hands off of him so he could have a moment to breathe. He looked like he was about five seconds from tearing up from the sensitivity of it. You could’ve put the Lemurian myth of crying pearls to the test if you really wanted to, but instead you opted to give him a second. Getting him too worked up before the main course might’ve spoiled some of the fun.

Rafayel took the few moments of respite to calm down, feeling your hands caressing his hips as he breathed in. You watched how his gills seemed to flutter with every breath and wondered what would happen if you bit one of them. Rafayel caught your staring easily and one hand went to cover the delicate gills.

“You’re a mess right now,” it was the first thing Rafayel said to you. This man had the audacity to tell you that after you allowed him to throat fuck you. You shot him a small glare, almost pouting as you sat up on his tail, your hands at the thick stretch of muscle and scales to help steady yourself.

“Oh, and you aren’t?” you pointed out. He was still panting a little bit, his hair sticking to his forehead with more than just the saltwater of the pool. He let out an amused huff as he also sat up straighter, no longer using the edge of the pool to lean on. Those large, clawed hands grabbed at your hips and lifted you up with ease. He dragged you onto his lap and you could feel his cocks twitching against your cunt, making you gasp.

“You’re worse off than me, at least,” Rafayel said, one of his hands going into your hair. He took it out and showed you the glowing substance on his hand. He had the most amused look on his face from the scowl you wore on your own. “Your hair is covered,” he mentioned as if you didn’t already know you.

You let out a small huff, “It’s fine, at least we’re already in the pool,” you said, but then got an idea. He was being a little too much of a little shit right now for your liking, especially after you deepthroated him like you needed his dick more than air itself. It wasn’t too surprising, Rafayel had always had a bratty attitude and it really shone through when he bottomed for you.

His clawed hand was still in front of you so you grabbed hold of it. You licked his release off his palm, making his breath hitch. You then leaned forward and grabbed his chin, locking your lips with his. He moaned into the kiss, returning it in kind. That was until your tongue played with his own, placing his own release into his mouth. You retreated from him and closed his jaw and raised an eyebrow.

“Swallow it,” you said, and you could watch the conflict in his eyes as he debated if he wanted to actually follow your orders. You watched as his throat bob though, signaling that he had indeed taken it down. He then opened his mouth, his tongue out and you shivered at the sight. His tongue was long. You had felt it earlier when he kissed you, but seeing it was something else entirely. He chuckled at seeing your reaction; he took his tongue back into his mouth since he was satisfied with how he had managed to tease you.

“You know, if we’re trying to clean up some of the cum, I know a better way,” he drawled out, licking his lips. You had no idea what he wanted, but then you saw it. That shit eating grin on his face, now enhanced by sharp, dangerous teeth.

Before you could even ask what he was thinking he was grabbing you again. You let out a small scream as suddenly you were being flipped down into the water. He had been careful not to let anything splash into your mouth, holding you up in the water so only the back of your head was in it. Once you realized what was going on you relaxed more into his grasp as he lowered you more.

His hands went to your hair as he started to get the cum out. It was honestly one of the funniest moments you had ever had with him during sex. You couldn’t help but giggle as he worked on wiping your chin and forehead next, the laughter only increasing until he was laughing alongside you.

“Why are you laughing?” he finally got out, giving you a genuine smile instead of a cocky smirk. You looked up at him and cupped his cheeks in your hands, your thumbs playing with the area where his fins connected to his face.

“Because this, Raf, is fucking ridiculous,” you said through your giggles and he shook his head. He leaned forward, giving you a quick kiss.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t aim it away from you,” he said with a shake of his head. You rolled your eyes as he finished cleaning you off enough that you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. Your body had sunk down into the water, your ass pressing against the bottom of the tanning area. The cool water lapping at your body caused a small shiver to run down your spine.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking about that while I was choking on your other dick,” you said, and he huffed in response. He leaned down again, kissing your neck and then down your chest. You let out a small moan as his hands began exploring your curves, letting the sharp claws drag just enough that it wasn’t going to cut you. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it and using his tongue to make you moan.

Your hips rolled up into him and you could feel how his cocks were still squirming, they prehensile appendages dragging along your pussy. You were content for now to let his hands play with you. One of them pressed down between your legs where your clit was. He was so careful to only let the pad of his finger press against you right now, not trusting his claws. You knew letting him finger fuck you was out of the question with how sharp they were, but you let out a content groan as he pressed harder on your clit.

You let out a whine of protest as he took his hand away from your clit, allowing it to trail up your body. He worked on spreading your legs wider to wrap around his waist. His mouth latched onto yours, moaning into you as he could still taste the saltiness of his release still on your tongue. You groaned into him, trying to roll your hips up and begging for something to finally be filling you up.

You tangled one of your hands in his hair, tugging on the locks as he continued to kiss you breathlessly. Just his kiss was driving you mad, and even though you already came you still needed more. You whined against his lips, letting him hear just how impatient you were getting. You felt him smirking against you as he took his mouth away, pressing a kiss to your neck.

A gasp escaped you as soon as one of his cocks pressed against your entrance. It was the bottom one, his top cock resting over your stomach as it squirmed there. You groaned, feeling the tip of him slipping inside of you with ease, eliciting a moan from him as well.

“I thought I’d get to ride you,” you said, feeling him slipping more of his length into your tight heat. He was already panting against your shoulder, his hands grasping your hips to keep you still against him. His tail heavy on your body, your legs spread out wide to accommodate his sheer side in this form.

He was probably halfway in when his forehead was against you, “Change of plans,” he hissed out, trying to take it slow. You could feel the member moving inside of you, causing your hips to twitch. Your insides were squeezing him already, trying to coax him deeper into you. There was no pain as he pressed a little more into you, then began removing his hips. He was working far too slowly for your liking right now, probably trying to prevent himself from coming too fast.

When he began pushing back inside your theory was quickly debunked. You had forgotten just how much thicker the base of his cock was in this form. A small gasp escaping you as he fit another inch into you, right where it got thick. You looked down between your bodies, barely able to see his cock inside of you. The top cock was blocking the view and you whined a little bit as he slipped the rest in.

He settled inside of you for a moment, allowing himself to just relax in your heat. You squirmed underneath him and pouted, “Raf…” you murmured, making him look up at you. You shuddered when his cock began moving inside your pussy, grazing against places inside of you that you didn’t think you’d ever felt reached. You groaned, trying to control yourself as you spoke, “Please, fuck I need more,” you groaned out.

He shushed you, his hands on your hips squeezing you gently, “I just need a moment, pearl,” He said, rolling his cock into you, “Or else I might cum too quickly,” he said, his voice wavering slightly as he spoke.

“Raf, if you think that’s gonna make you cum too quickly, would now be a bad time to tell you I want both your cocks in me?” you asked, squeezing down on his shaft. Rafayel’s head popped up from your shoulders, looking at you. You could see how his ears wiggled as he looked down at you in awe.

“You want to take both of them?” he asked, his voice in almost disbelief. You nodded your head, reaching your hand between your bodies and squeezing the larger cock that was against his stomach. He gasped while instinctually rolling up into you. Your own moan echoed out as you looked at him with the most needy expression you could muster.

“Please, wanna feel myself being split open by you,” you asked him, knowing he had a hard time saying no to you in the bedroom. You watched as his throat bob as he swallowed thickly and nodded his head. That cute glow on his cheeks was coming back full force, accentuating the fact that this man certainly was far from being a normal human.

“If you’re sure…did you want them both in your…” he couldn’t even get the words out right now, not when you were squeezing him and begging him for more.

“Both in my pussy, please, if it gets too uncomfortable you can put the bottom one in my ass,” you suggested. He let out another groan, his cocks pulsing at your lewd and straightforward words. All shame had left you the moment you saw how good he looked like this, now all you wanted was the full experience.

Rafayel began slipping his cock out of you and grasping his other. You could feel both tips at your entrance, sighing when the heads were inside. You were thankful that they were tapered, and he had already fucked you open a little with his smaller size. Rafayel looked like he was concentrating on not just shoving them both into you at once.

You were panting as you felt him stretching you out more. You could feel the stretch, the burn of it all as he continued. Then as it pushed a little more in your hands shot to grab onto his biceps, hissing a little in pain, “W-wait, give me a sec,” you groaned. You needed to adjust to his sheer size as you looked down at his cocks. He wasn’t even halfway inside of you, and for a brief moment you wondered if you’d even be capable of taking them both.

Rafayel stopped right away, taking in a few deep breaths. You could see how his gills seemed to almost flutter as he tried calming himself down. He licked his lips, “Are you sure you want to take both of them?” he finally asked and you nodded.

“Very sure, I want to feel them all,” you said, noticing how the pain was subsiding pretty quickly. You had expected it to take a long longer and you looked up at him. You had used toys in the past, and normally you had to fuck yourself on the tips of the larger sizes before it got comfortable enough to slide more in. Now it was almost completely gone, and you felt like you could easily slip more of him, relaxing around his lengths.

“Hey Raf…” you started and he hummed in response, “Do your dicks have…uh…” you began. You did think it was weird how you were able to deepthroat him earlier, something you had never successfully done in the past. You smacked your lips, realizing that your throat still had a slightly numb feeling to it. Oh…there was no way it wasn’t what you thought it was. The only question was why didn’t getting speared on the bottom cock cause it to numb enough for the second to slip in fast. You had more questions in need of answering, even if he was currently trying to put his dicks in you.

Rafayel actually let out a small, amused huff, “Did you just now figure it out?” he was teasing despite how breathless his voice came out. You let out a whine, glaring at him as you squeezed his arms tighter. You slowly let go of them, resting on your forearms as you took in the view of him.

“Okay, but why didn’t it set in with the bottom cock?” sure it apparently had numbed you enough to slip it in, but the top cock had been immediate. It had only been about a minute since he slipped it in and already the numbing effect was taking hold. Besides, of course you were just now noticing, you were too preoccupied with wanting his dicks inside of every orifice in your body to really register how your throat felt.

It seemed Rafayel decided to just answer you rather than continue teasing how oblivious you had been, “A Lemurian’s slick can be a numbing agent so it’s easier to take…ah…” he realized the information he was giving out with how your eyes widened. He tried swerving his comment, “The uh…larger of the two produces a stronger version…” it was too late to get out of this one.

You looked like you had just hit the jackpot as you leaned up, cupping his cheeks in your hands despite the awkward angle causing one hell of a core workout. He might’ve been laying down on you almost completely, but you needed to be right in his face for this one. You forced his eyes to meet your own, “You do lay eggs,” you said in awe.

Rafayel let out a groan, “You’re far too excited about this,” he said, taking his upper body and pressing you down into the water more so you wouldn't have to be leaning up anymore. You felt the coolness of the water lapping at your face, the only thing keeping it up was Rafayel’s hand. “It’s only possible around Ebb Day, or our mating cycles,”

He felt how you clenched at the thought of it as he hissed, clearly enjoying how tight you were around both of his cocks. “You have mating cycles? When is yours? How often is it?” you began firing off questions, and he could only look at you in confusion.

“Are you really asking this while I’m trying to fuck you?” as if trying to accentuate his point he slid his cocks further into you. You gasped at the feeling of fullness taking over and you could only chuckle at how funny this was. He seemed to almost be pouting, wanting to just rail you, and here you were playing twenty questions with your cute Lemurian.

“You said I could ask questions,” you teased him, “And besides, I need to know when I can get you to fill me up with eggs,” you said. The thought of it was already making you more needy. You felt ready to cum just from the thought of being so full of the man above you.

Rafayel was stunned as he stared down at you. You just kept surprising him time and time again tonight as he finally broke the silence, “You don’t think that’s weird…at all?” he finally said. You opened your mouth to respond, but with the way his cock squirmed inside of you as if it was also interested had you groaning. You had to take a moment, small pants leaving your mouth as you tried connecting your brain back to your mouth.

“Rafayel, if I need to get an ovipositor dildo, ride it, then fill myself with fake eggs in front of you just to prove how much I find it hot, I will,” you said, almost laughing at how he seemed to like that idea. “I want it almost as much as I want the rest of your cocks to be buried inside of me right now,” it was a hint to begin fucking you again.

He let out another huff, gripping your hip again as he began sliding his cocks into you. This time it was a lot easier, your cunt taking him easily and stretching without a hint of pain. You could only feel the pressure of it all inside of you and it had your mind going blank yet again. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You felt how the scales were rubbing against your clit and you were already so close to the edge just by being filled.

When he began actually thrusting into you, you lost it completely. You let out a cry as your cunt clamped down on him, your body shuddering as you came. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was enough for your eyes to squeeze shut as your entire body felt that euphoric warmth spreading all over it. Rafayel gasped at how tight you suddenly were around him, placing slopping kisses along your collarbone as he continued thrusting into you, working you through it.

When you were finally opening your eyes you looked up at him, your eyes wide. You honestly hadn’t expected to cum the instant he started moving in you. He had the cockiest look on his face, “Did you just cum, pearl?” he asked the most obvious question known to man, making you pout.

“Obviously,” you murmured, knowing he knew just how your body responded whenever you came. He chuckled, leaning down for a quick kiss. He seemed satisfied to have this effect on you at least, rolling his hips into you at a slower pace so he didn’t overwhelm you right off the bat.

With how thick both of his dicks were it was impossible for it to not get to be too much, and you clenched down on his arms, trying to calm yourself down. You felt sensitive all over right now as you swallowed thickly and Rafayel could easily pick up on this.

“Did you need a break?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse from need. You were grateful he was holding himself back for your sake. You only shook your head, not wanting to stop, but needing something so you weren’t feeling like you couldn’t think. You wanted to remember every sensation right now as you thought of a new idea. If having both his cocks in your pussy was too much, then there was an alternative.

“Can you fuck my ass with one of your cocks instead?” your ass didn’t have as many nerve endings. It would still feel good, but wouldn’t be overwhelming…hopefully. Rafayel was quiet for a moment, thinking things over?

“It’s going to be a bit of a stretch, are you sure you can handle it right now?” he asked, rubbing soothing motions into your hips. You nodded your head; you had never been more certain. Perhaps being horny was clouding all your judgements. This was supposed to help you feel less overwhelmed, but you were probably going to ruin yourself by this. Still, your body was clenching at the idea of both your holes being filled with his cocks.

“It’s fine, and you have two dicks and I have two holes. I already prepped before I came over this evening anyways, so it would be a waste if we didn’t.” you stated and he was now looking more confused than concerned.

“Why did you…prep?” he was certain you hadn’t been expecting to fuck him in his Lemurian form tonight. It had been spontaneous, one conversation leading to actions being taken through a haze of need. You just stared at him with an almost blank expression, blinking slowly as you thought it was obvious.

“I was planning on asking for anal tonight? Why else would I?” you said as though it was a perfectly normal thing to say to your boyfriend. To you it kind of was. You two liked trying different things, and you hadn’t done anal with him yet. When he had invited you over earlier you had thought about it for ten minutes before deciding to just go ahead and prepare.

“Why were you going to ask for that again?” he said, not even knowing you had plans on fucking him tonight. Really that was an issue on his end. He should’ve known if he was going to be anywhere alone with you, you’d find some way for his dick to be in you.

“Thought it would be fun…and I bet it is if you’d put it in already. See, who’s asking all the questions now?” you teased him. He shook his head, finding you almost insufferable. Still, you could feel him sliding his cocks out of you slowly so he could reposition himself.

The moment his cocks were out of you, you took your opportunity. You managed to push him off you until he was on his back. He let out a loud gasp as you climbed on top of him, chuckling. Feeling empty for a moment was helping clear your mind as you looked at Rafayel.

“You did say I could ride you, Raf,” you said, sitting up enough to grab both of his cocks. He let out a groan as you pumped the appendages, feeling how they wrapped around your wrist and tried pulling you closer to him. They were coated in your release and his own slick, and the thought had your pussy aching to be filled again.

You hovered over him, taking the smaller of the two and leading it into your ass. You let just the head in, allowing the taper of it to help ease you on. You then grabbed his larger dick and placed it against the hole of your pussy as you slowly rode the tips. Rafayel’s claws were on your thighs, almost leaving scratches in their wake as he tried letting you control what was happening.

Unsurprisingly, his cocks began sliding inside of you without too much trouble. The bottom one against your ass took more time as you slowly rode it, letting yourself sink more and more onto it every time you went down. The slick of it helped, as well as the subtle numbing; slowly but surely you found yourself fully seated on his tail, both cocks squirming perfectly inside of you. Your eyes closed for a moment, letting the feeling take you over.

To your relief it had been less overwhelming to take one in your ass, feeling it was there but not overfilling just one hole was perfect as you let out a groan. You braced your hands onto his abs and looked at him. He was already fucked out just from seeing you on top of him, and with how his cocks were pulsing you knew he was getting close again.

You began riding him, doing your best to keep a steady rhythm as you felt every inch of him inside of you. Rafayel’s mouth hung open in a moan, his teeth glinting in the moonlight as he watched where your bodies were joined. Seeing how his cocks slid in and out of you, feeling your tight walls as they clenched down on him was all he could’ve ever hoped for. He almost regretted waiting this long, knowing he had deprived himself from the sight of you bouncing so perfectly on two prehensile cocks.

You could already feel that familiar build up coiling in you, knowing you weren’t going to last very long. His cocks were able to milk orgasm after orgasm from you. You closed your eyes, finally shutting up for once as you just took in the moment, letting your head feel blank as you concentrated on riding him.

Rafayel could feel how your walls were clamping down on his shafts and he was getting close too, the edging you had accidentally done to him making it almost unbearable, “F-fuck, just a little more, pearl,” he groaned out, his hands going to your ass.

Rafayel began guiding your movements, making it easier to ride as he picked up the pace. His hips thrusting up to meet your every movement had you gasping, letting it knock the wind right out of your lungs. You cursed taking one hand and pressing down on your clit, rubbing at it as the only thing on your mind was coming again.

That coil snapped inside of you as you came, letting out a cry of his name as you gasped, this time the orgasm crashing into you. Your legs were shaking and your movements got sloppy as you were more or less raming yourself down on his lengths. The only thing keeping the pace was his guiding hands forcing you to keep moving. You could feel that pulse once again, but this time inside of you. Your eyes looking at Rafayel in a haze as he slammed you down on his cocks.

He held you down, allowing his dicks to just move inside as he came. His cum coating your insides which only furthered just how fucking good it all felt. Being so full and having him filling you up was making your mind a jumble, your tongue heavy in your mouth. You didn’t even realize your fingers were scratching at him, leaving little red marks all over his abs and feeling how they moved underneath your touch as he groaned.

Rafayel was able to sit up, taking you by the nape of the neck as he crashed your lips into his own. It was sloppy and hurried, his teeth leaving another small cut on your lip. At the moment you didn’t care, pressing further against his mouth as you tasted him, moaning into his mouth as you basked in the feeling of just being with him.

The hands he had underneath you were used as leverage as he managed to hike you up a little bit on his body. You felt yourself sway as his lips continued their dance with your own, and suddenly you could feel the way Rafayel’s tail worked in the water as he pushed the two of you into the pool as he left the small tanning section.

You could feel something was different with his kisses, and it didn’t dawn on you until suddenly you were plunged under the water. The water wasn’t filling your lungs though, instead Rafayel’s lips left your own and you took a breath underneath the surface. You had seen him use this trick in the past, kissing you and dragging you down, only to find out through some weird Lemurian magic, you weren’t drowning.

He kissed you again after letting your mind process the situation. He coaxed your legs to wrap around his tail, and grabbed your arms and placed them on his shoulders. He took hold of your hips and began moving you again, fucking you on his two cocks underwater and you gasped at the suddeness of it all. Your arms gripping his shoulders tighter, closing your eyes.

Your moans seemed to echo inside of the pool, the sanctuary you had found yourselves in. At the moment the only thing you could even focus on was Rafayel, the water was blocking out everything else to allow you this. You tried opening your eyes, only to see your beautiful Lemurian staring at you, his eyes glowing in the dark water.

Your walls contracted around him when you felt his cock hitting your sweet spot. You swore right now you were seeing little stars in your vision from how good he was fucking you right now. “That’s it, my pearl, my love, my heart, doing so good for me,” Rafayel groaned right into your ear, earning a shiver from you as you pressed your legs closer to his torso. You felt like you two were locked into place, his hands never loosening his grasp on you as though he were afraid you’d slip away.

His soft scales grazing your clit with every thrust as he continued whispering some of the sweetest things to you between sinful grunts. Your mind had long since gone to mush at this point, only able to respond to him with small mewls that escape you, every thrust sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your entire being.

You felt his lips pressing kisses along the column of your neck, the small nips teasing as they threatened to break skin with those razor sharp teeth of his. Your arms were wrapped around him so tightly as you dug your nails into his shoulder blades, leaving scratch marks in their place which only seemed to spur on Rafayel as his thrust got harder; he was fucking you with a reckless sort of abandon, his need for you overflowing with the motions. The only thing helping keep you afloat were his sweet words to make sure you were still with him, still feeling him.

You tried warning Rafayel that you were close, murmuring words that you weren’t even sure were coherent at this point. Your voice was higher in pitch and broken everytime he rutted up into your cunt. He seemed to have gotten the message though, working to angle himself, his tail positioning you, and almost making you scream from how his cocks plunged somehow deeper into you with this angle. Feeling the scales at the very base driving you mad as your nails dug deeper into him.

You came with a cry of his name, your cunt trying to pull an orgasm out of him with how tight it was pulsing around his lengths. You could feel his grip on you get harder, his nails now definitely leaving scratches on your hips that would have to be dealt with at a later time. The pain right now only heightened your release, broken sobs leaving you as he fucked you through it.

You could hear Rafayel’s groan, feel how his own release was near. Then suddenly white hot pain shot through you as his teeth clamped down on your shoulder. You couldn’t find it in you to care, not with how his thrusts had become sloppy and suddenly his spend was painting your walls again. You could physically see some of it leaving you, floating in the water with that bioluminescent glow, causing it to light up the area around you.

The only light was from his release, as well as the streams of moonlight that broke through the surface of the water. It was almost like a dreamscape as you felt his tongue licking at where he had bit you. His cocks squirming inside of your sensitive heat and making you whimper from the stimulation. Your body felt spent and you just knew that you’d be sore come tomorrow morning.

You pressed your forehead up against Rafayel, doing your best to not show your discomfort. Still, your boyfriend was always good at reading you. As the last of his orgasm ebbed away he pressed kisses to you, “You okay?” his voice was husky as he asked, pressing another kiss to your cheek. You opened your eyes, looking at him and nodding.

“Mhm, y-ya I think so…” you said, your tongue still feeling heavy in your mouth. You felt like you needed to sleep for a solid ten years, but being able to bask in this moment with Rafayel was nice. The way his hands were softly pressing against you, helping you come back to yourself. 

“I’m sorry,” He said, pressing a kiss to the area he bit, “I didn’t…I’m really sorry,” he said, feeling regret. He could see the damage he had done in his throes of pleasure, your sides and the bite. He pressed another kiss to it and nuzzled into your neck.

“It’s fine, Raf, it really is. Don’t worry about it,” you assured him. At the moment you liked it; sure in the morning you might have a different opinion, but you didn’t mind being marked by your boyfriend. It wasn’t like he did it on purpose, and you had known things would be different when he was in this form. You were mentally prepared for it, so you weren’t upset that it had happened.

“Are you sure…?” he asked, his hands still rubbing over your hips where there were scratch marks.

“I’m very sure, besides I scratched you up as well,” you said, trying to concentrate on him, but your head was still a little fuzzy. He decided to drop the conversation from now, probably intent on pampering you later as an apology.

You felt him as he lifted you off his cocks, that overwhelming feeling going away. You felt so empty for a moment, looking down at his body and watching the appendages slide back into his vent. You groaned as you looked back up and saw him looking at you, a small smile on his lips. He cupped your cheek, leaning forward to kiss you again. This time it was lazy and relaxed, no hurry or need behind it. Just wanting to simply feel you as he began making his way back to the surface of the water.

That balmy air now felt chilled against your skin the moment he broke through the surface of the water. He took you back to the ledge of the pool, the shallow waters perfect. He laid down with you on top of him when he finally parted his lips from you.

His hand brushing your wet hair out of your face so he could look at you. You were trying to catch your breath currently, the sudden change from water to breathing air was always a slightly uncomfortable experience. You hadn’t noticed it as much when he took you underneath the surface due to being distracted, but now you could feel it.

Rafayel allowed you the moment to get accustomed to it again, pulling you to lay down on his chest. You could feel his heartbeat as it began calming down in time with your own. His hands going through and massaging your scalp until you shifted on him, feeling a little more like yourself once more.

“Alive?” he said, his voice clearer than it had been underwater, that echo now gone. You let out a small huff as you closed your eyes, not even bothering to look at him for a moment. This was now your happy place, his other hand on your waist as he held you close to him.

“Might be a lil brain dead, but I’ll be fine,” you got out and followed your statement with a yawn. The thought of having to shower and clean up was daunting, but if you knew anything you could convince Rafayel to do the hard work. He would probably even carry you inside after all of that. Your legs currently felt like jelly anyway, so there was no way you’d be walking anywhere yourself as it was.

“Is now a good time to let you know that once the numbing is gone you might be a little bit sore?” he asked and you actually groaned, burying your face into his chest. In the heat of the moment you had forgotten all about that. You were fairly certain during your passionate joining he had been slamming his cock right up against your cervix. Something normally uncomfortable had felt great when it had numbed you up enough. 

“I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow…or the next day…” you realized and he chuckled, his chest vibrating. You propped your chin up on his chest, glaring at him.

“I did tell you we’d have to do this when you had a day off scheduled…” he said and you closed your eyes and tried thinking back to that conversation. He had warned you, but really you hadn’t expected getting fucked like this tonight. You had cum…four times? It wasn’t a record for you two by any means, but the way it happened was unique.

“Fuck…you’re taking care of me tomorrow, Raf,” you’d be needing pain killers. Your thighs were already going to be hurting from riding him, but now your entire body was going to be protesting. Not to mention the man had literally left wounds on you. You could feel the string of the bite mark on your shoulder, along with the small gashes on your hips. Even your lips were stinging a little bit. You were absolutely wrecked at the moment.

“So, did that answer some of your questions?” Rafayel asked. You had to take a moment before an actual laugh escaped you. You had been so enthusiastic about asking him every question, and you had been doing so good until he began fucking your brains out. You pressed a kiss to his chest and looked up at him with a mischievous glint.

“I think I have some more questions that I need answered, actually,” you began, and Rafayel looked at you curiously, “Looks like we’re going to have to do this again sometime. Especially during that mating cycle of yours. What do Lemurian eggs look like?” you asked. He closed his eyes and realized you hadn’t forgotten about that conversation.

Instead of giving you a response he just adjusted you on his body so he could reach your lips, giving them a sweet kiss as his hand played with your cheek lovingly. He pressed his forehead against your own and looked at you. Sometimes the look he gave you had your heart almost stopping. Butterflies going wild in your stomach. It was like he was looking at the most important thing in the world, like there was so much more about your relationship that you couldn’t fathom. The loyalty he showed had once brought you to tears when he had done this, but right now you held strong, only allowing a small gasp to leave you.

“I love you,” his voice was softer now, as were his eyes. You let out a small noise from the back of your throat, not even knowing how to respond to him. You loved him so much it sometimes hurt. He was always on your mind, like a piece of you that you didn't realize was missing until you met him.

Still, the way he said things you couldn’t match, not yet, so you defaulted to what you were most comfortable with in your relationship. “I love you too, fishie,” you teased him with a smile. A small, offended noise left Rafayel as he looked at you.

“Fishie? Really?” he said, his voice whiny as he pouted. Seeing him go back to your silly artist relaxed you tremendously and you smirked.

“How about Sharkie then? You did bite me, after all,” you said, pointing at your shoulder. He glanced at it and gave you a sheepish smile. He had already apologized for it, and you knew he felt guilty, but he was good at playing things off. “Gotta say, if it doesn’t scar you might have to try again. Nobody will believe I won a battle against a shark if there’s no mark to prove it,” you teased.

“You want me to bite you…again…in the future?” he asked slowly, checking to see if he was reading it right.

“Ya, I think couple tattoos are so out of date. I’ll bite you next time as well, if you want,” you smirked at how he blushed. He took your hand and gave it a small kiss.

“I’d rather not be maimed by you,” he said with a huff, but the way his ears wiggled was telling enough, “So are you ready to head back in?” he asked.

“Ask me in ten minutes if the feeling in my legs ever return,” this got a laugh out of him. For the umpteenth time that night, you found yourself melting into a kiss with your dear Rafayel.

Hope y'all enjoyed. This took forever to write but I did have a lot of fun in the process!

[milksnake-tea]

hey all !! normally i wouldn't engage in something like this on my blog, but considering that it's happening to a friend of mine, i felt i had an obligation to speak out. sorry for clogging up the tags/interrupting your scrolling 😭

tldr: @/hxveneru has stolen the works of my good friend @lowkeyren not once, but twice and is deleting any comments calling them out.

edit: they've changed their user to @/yneri; if you've blocked them already, this doesn't really matter bc they're still blocked :) reminder to not engage with them, they're just looking for attention. block and ignore!

i know. fun stuff. proof is under the cut.

please note that i'm doing this of my own accord, and the only involvement ren has had in this post is me asking for permission to post it since, well, it's an issue mainly affecting her.

also i should say beforehand but. don't ??? send them death threats please 😭 we are better than that. i'm mainly making this to spread awareness about the issue :)

reblogs are appreciated to spread awareness.

first stolen work is ren's oneshot "drunk words, sober thoughts!" for aventurine here.

as you can see, it was posted on June 15th, a little over two months before hxveneru posted their own oneshot.

for reference. hxveneru is a new blog and all of their posts are in the month of september, proven here via their archive.

and here's the two oneshots side by side, with ren's on the left and the stolen one on the right.

notice how the oneshots are exactly word-for-word except for the title and synopsis? even the author's note is exactly the same. obviously i can't fit the whole thing here, but this should be enough.

honestly it's. i have to laugh at the audacity to just copy and paste like hello???

and here's the second work that was copied, with hxveneru's "diff scenarios w hsr men" taking from drabbles from two of ren's works.

these are the two fics that were stolen from, with their dates attached. both are posted far before september. links are here and here if you want to double check..

now let's look at the drabbles that were - once again, copy and pasted. first is blade's, again with ren on the left and the stolen one on the right (ren's is circled bc they didn't take the hcs part).

and here is the sunday drabble that was stolen.

so far, those are the only works posted on their blog. i was also informed that they had apparently stolen from @/exuvianen's post here but deleted it, but since said post is deleted, we don't have evidence for that so take it with a grain of salt.

but yeah! just wanted to let yall know out there, especially since the plagiarized works have already gained some traction and have 100+ notes on them. i've talked about them vaguely on my blog before, so if this sounds familiar, yeah this is them.

plagiarism is shitty, i shouldn't have to say that. it is not that hard to just write your own stuff. i know validation and publicity make you feel good, but stealing someone else's hard work is not the way to go. writers already have enough to deal with. just don't do it. what's the point of getting validation if it's not even your work?

again, don't send death threats, please. that's a bit far, and they likely won't even do anything since the plagiarizer has already been called out before and this was their response.

not a single ounce of remorse or shame. people have gotten way too comfortable on here.

also "who the hell is ren anyway" bestie you blocked her 😭😭 and ignored her ask to you. that's why ren can't dm her to sort it out privately btw, in case you were wondering.

anyways! that's all i have to say, thanks for sticking around this long and have a great rest of your day. hxveneru if you see this. hi ig ?? id say smth to you but i doubt you'd take it seriously so i won't <3

[glossysoap]

lil bodyguard stalker ghoap concept from my drafts and the discord <3 fem reader, dark twist. i also have a regular bodyguard ghoap wip that has no dark twist to it, lemme know if you want that as well <3

🏷️: @vgilantee @itzzjxlyn @msdevil333 @damnirina @wrathofcats @claymorexpunisher @krakenbabe @ghastlybirdie @luvecarson @blissful-bunny @mandalover2023 @undeadsthings @kiroshang @ivymarquis (if ur struck out, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag)

retired ghoap x reader where they become her bodyguards because she has a hunch that someone’s been watching her.

more than a hunch, really.

especially when messages start rolling in from unknown numbers and blank social media accounts.

“what a cute little dress.”

“that perfume smells good.”

“you should wear those boots tonight. it’s gonna rain.”

all messages referring to things you’ve never shown online, things that have never left your house. a new dress you just bought that was sitting in your dresser. a perfume that never left your bedroom. new combat boots that you’ve never worn.

after receiving those messages, you blocked those accounts and any other blank followers you had. you even contemplated deleting all of your social media accounts.

as time passed, you became even more paranoid. maybe it had something to do with the flashes of black that seemed to flicker in your periphery as you walked to work or from the store.

when you hired the two former special forces soldiers to protect you, you felt like you could finally exhale. they were so big, brooding and muscular. constantly armed and ready to kill for you.

so for your safety, they insisted on moving in to your apartment.

ghost was quieter than soap, but much taller and bigger. making him tower even more over you. he still wore his mask, sometimes switching it out with a black surgical mask.

to the everyday person, he seemed cold and uncaring. but the more they stayed in your apartment, the more you witnessed his warm, protective nature. his hands skirting along your skin as he massaged your sore muscles.

him double checking the locks on your door.

soap was a little bit shorter than ghost, but still taller than you. still bigger than you because of his muscles. he still wore that tight blue shirt and the tan bulletproof vest as him and ghost occupied your apartment. his hair was still styled in that fluffy mohawk, though it sometimes grew out long enough to be pulled into a hair tie.

soap was touchy. very touchy. it wasn’t unwelcome, though. his warm hand would press against the small of your back as you cooked, sometimes even wrapping around your waist. sometimes pressing a kiss to your forehead when he first saw you after waking up in the morning.

for some reason or another, their hands were always on you. their eyes were always on you. and you found yourself.. enjoying it?

everything seemed just fine. great, actually.

until you went into their shared bedroom to gather their dirty laundry.

it was there you saw polaroids and polaroids of you pinned to their walls. candid shots. shots where you were shopping. shots where you were walking to work. shots where you were walking home. shots where you were sleeping.

your bodyguards were the very same stalkers that they were ‘protecting’ you from.

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗣𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗞

　　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Nick pranks Chris and Y/N while they are sleeping.

WARNING: None.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Nick walked towards the double bed closest to the hotel room's door, their vlogging camera in his right hand, while his left hand held a bottle of lemonade.

He slowly approached, raising the camera so that the lens caught what was on top of it, or rather, who. Y/N and Chris were still fast asleep, both covered by the fluffy white blanket.

The girl was lying on the left side, that is, closer to Nick. Her head was lying on Chris's right arm, using it as her personal pillow, while the boy's left arm was around her shoulders covered by one of his t-shirts.

The only visible parts of the couple were their heads - which were practically on top of each other - and Chris's bare shoulders and arms that were slightly shivering from the Texas cold. Unfortunately, the room's heater didn't seem to be able to combat the coldness completely.

Nick couldn't see, but he was sure their legs were tangled under the blanket. He joked that when they slept together, they seemed to melt into each other with how close they were.

As the oldest triplet got closer to the bed, the camera was able to capture the small snores that came out of Chris's half-open mouth and the soft sighs that escaped Y/N's nose, both sounding like a lullaby to each other.

Nick pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to contain his laughter as he anticipated the couple's reaction. He loved playing pranks on them both, especially when they were sleeping.

"Chris, do you want a sip? Y/N?" Nick's voice sounded low behind the camera as the lens captured him, raising his left arm, the bottle entering the frame, bringing it closer to the couple's faces.

Chris, being a light sleeper, woke up seconds after. He lifted his head slightly as he tightened his arms around Y/N, pulling her closer - if that was even possible.

That movement woke up Y/N, or almost. The girl opened her eyes slightly, keeping them in a thin line, exhaling through her nose before closing them again, seeming not to register Nick in front of her.

"Hmm?" The questioning sound escaped Chris's throat. He turned his head from side to side slowly, trying to understand what was happening, his messy hair falling into his eyes.

"Do you want a sip? I think Y/N must be thirsty, too." Nick continued, his cheeks turning red from the effort he was doing while trying not to laugh.

"What, Nick?" Chris's voice sounded for the first time, the hoarseness making his words almost intelligible. The sound made Y/N open her eyes again, this time a little wider.

She lifted her hands, which were previously under the blanket, and brought them to Chris' ones in front of her body, intertwining them, shivering at the contact of her hot skin with her boyfriend's cold one. A sound of discomfort left her lips as she finally noticed Nick in front of her, holding what looked like a bottle. She quickly closed her eyes again, feeling too tired for whatever that was that Nick wanted.

"It's lemonade. Do you guys want a sip or not?" Nick prevailed, moving the bottle closer to their faces.

"If you drop that on me... I'll kill you." This time, it was Y/N's voice that sounded, equally hoarse and tired from the previous day's filming with Sam and Colby. She only opened one eye this time, looking at Nick but not really being able to focus on him, her vision blurred by sleep.

"It's lemonade." The standing boy spoke again, letting out a low, almost imperceptible laugh. He knew he would get yelled at when the couple actually woke up.

"Are you fucking stupid?" Chris responded, stretching for a few seconds without letting go of Y/N's hand, pulling her closer against his bare chest and burying his head in the crook of his girl's neck, exhaling the natural scent of her skin.

"Go away, Nick." Y/N spoke again, finally closing her eyes completely with the comfort of her boyfriend's body heat against her own, a happy sigh scaping her mouth.

They both fell asleep again within seconds, as if nothing had happened.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

extra - comments:

"the way they sleep so close together, being all cuddly and everything 🥺"

"Chris and Y/N are such couple goals"

"I've never seen a cozier bed in my life 😫"

"dear Santa Claus ✏️📄"

"I want a boyfriend who cuddle me while we sleep like I'm going to run away at any minute 😭"

"Nick is a real pest LMAO"

"Nick holding himself back from laughing behind the camera 😭"

"Chris and Y/N's sleepy voice 😔"