#this one doesn’t need much of an explanation

[revelboo]

My Rodimus figure broke :( maybe something with Rodimus accidentally hurting himself doing something dumb and we comfort him?

Attractive Today Pt 3

MTMTE Rodimus x Reader

• Servos curling under into fists, he has to remind himself to keep smiling. Keep playing the clueless goof, because he can feel his spark crackling with his outlier ability and knows that if he lets that anger take over, he might not be able to stop. Might hurt someone. Again. Putting some space between himself and Brainstorm so he won’t be as tempted since the scientist isn’t all that concerned about the chaos he’s caused or the suffering. Some of the bots on board had never dealt with humans before Rung’s had blipped into existence on his desk amid the parts for the model so he was assembling. And it’s easy to not care, when it’s just a nameless little organic.

• Walking from one end of the desk you’re trapped on, you turn and make another circuit. Finally beginning to calm after Rodimus had explained that no, his kind, Cybertronians, don’t eat humans. He could have been lying, but he’d honestly looked so distraught about it that you believe him that the one eyed, robotic death chicken had lied to you. Your new roommate hasn’t had any explanation for how you’d gotten stuck on their ship, though. But he’d said he’d try to figure it out and despite yourself, you want to trust him. Lost in space and far from home, just gone without a trace. His quarters have a large window that you’re trying your hardest to not look at, because that vast emptiness just cracks your fear wide open. The night sky at home had never bothered you one bit, but knowing there’s nothing beyond the walls of the ship? It makes you want to scream.

• Returning to his quarters without any real solutions or answers, his servos flex. As much as he hated it, he’d sided with Magnus and Megs that they continue on rather than trying to backtrack and find the humans to return them home. He’s not sure how to tell the little human waiting in his quarters for him that you’re not going home. At least not for a long time. You’re still where he left you when he opens the door, little head turning his way. And that guilt and anger kindles about his spark, until he’s frozen in place. Because not now. Those expectant eyes are staring at him and he wonders how many of Brainstorm’s accidents hadn’t been so lucky. How many hadn’t survived.

• Big, red, and pointy isn’t moving, just standing there in the doorway before one of his hands reaches and his servos slam against the wall, head lowering. Moving closer, you watch him begin to shiver, servos flexing and almost clawing the wall. “Hey? You okay?” You call out, because if you didn’t know better, it looks like the big, alien robot is having some kind of nervous breakdown. Bright blue optics find you and there is something like panic on his too human face. You know that feeling, know what it’s like to drown in your own head as your breath catches.

• Don’t do it. Keep it together. It’s a losing battle as that anger churns and feeds the fear of what he’s capable of if he doesn’t get it together. Can feel his temperature starting to climb, feels his plating crackling with the threat of flames. Needs to go, find somewhere with no one around, no one to hurt. Then he realizes you’re talking to him. Telling him about your family and your dog, and it’s so random it snags at him. Gives him something to focus on, just the sound of your voice softly talking to him. Talking him through the danger you aren’t even aware you’re in. Leaning on the wall, he stares at you, meets your eyes. Wants to come closer and pick you up, because you’re saving him without even knowing it, but can’t move yet. Can’t risk it.

Previous

[maxwell-grant]

I think it’s interesting, considering how most live-action superhero adaptations kill off the villains after their debut, that both The Batman and The Penguin end with the villains not just living, but set up to return and somehow cause Even Bigger Problems down the line. Is this just because it’s the first Batman film adaptation that’s a capital-F Franchise, so the writers need the villains to stick around long-term, or is something else going on?

Almost entirely comes down to the fact that The Batman was not meant to be Batman's origin story - by Reeves' own admission, it was the origin story of the Rogues Gallery. They got the Cloverfield and Dawn of the Planet of the Apes guy and he did a story about the boots-on-the-ground gritty perspective on larger-than-life terrors emerging from the ruins and failings of human civilization, taking the struggles and wars and laborious processes that others shy away from and putting them front in center. It's just this time, instead of kaijus and parasites attacking and destroying the city, instead of apes emerging as the Mad Max warlords rising from the ashes to fight over the world, we have Batman villains in that role instead.

To me, that was actually the conception - if we weren't going to do a Batman origin story, but we were going to do it in the early years, I thought well, in the comics, the rogues gallery characters often are creating their alter egos in response to the fact that a masked vigilante shows up in Gotham called the Batman.

And so I thought, oh well, what we could do is see all of the rogue's gallery characters in their origins, like Selina Kyle before she's Catwoman, and that we could go into, as we're looking for a suspect, we could go to a nightclub, a nightclub could be the Iceberg Lounge and we could see a pre-kingpin Oz, and we could see, you know, a Riddler who is declaring himself the Riddler sort of because there's a Batman. And so all of that was sort of built into the conception. - Matt Reeves

It's far from the first Batman film adaptation to be a capital-F Franchise, even if that aspect was there - Reeves initially pitched the movie as an HBO series, and throughout production pitched additional show ideas such as an Arkham show or a Gotham PD show, The Penguin being the only one that survived as far as we know. This pulls off an origin from the Rogues Gallery better than every other Batman media ever made, and there's a couple of reasons why it does so and why the villains get to take center stage here:

Part of the difference between the way Nolan tackled realistic Batman, and the way Reeves tackles realistic Batman, is that Nolan needs realism to explain Batman, and Reeves needs realism entirely in the service of making Batman weirder. Pattison Batman is the weirdest Bruce ever put on film almost entirely because he lives in our world while still being Batman in every way that counts - Keaton Bats slept upside down in a cave, but he lived in a Tim Burton world. Adam West Bats is weird, but everybody is like that or even weirder than he is, he is the comedic straightman to everyone else. And where as Nolan needs Batman to be the thing that makes sense, Reeves needs Batman to be the thing that doesn’t make sense.

Nolan wanted weird difficult irreducible villains opposite a logical pragmatically sensible Batman, and Reeves wants exactly the opposite. For Nolan, even besides the Joker who was defined entirely around the lack of a real explanation for him, you have his take on Two-Face, Bane, the Al Ghuls, characters that don't demand that much reasoning or explanation because they can act and exist in ways that defy logic, while Batman's the guy who has to hold the center of logic and reason. Where as here, Pattison Batman is the most interesting and complicated and larger-than-life figure this world is dealing with in much the same way that Ledger Joker was for his movie, and everyone else is in the position of starting out and having to deal with Batman and the paradigm shift he brings - nobody else in the movie is quite the character they were supposed to be, that's something they're all growing into in response to their nightmare city and what this titanic freak in armor represents to them.

Even The Riddler is ultimately explainable, human, reducible to his tantrums and vulnerabilities, even without you knowing in-depth his character and backstory that would be elaborated for Dano's Year One. Even The Penguin - he may be larger-than-life, he may be unexplainable on some level, but we know all too well all of his failings and feelings and life story and all the cracks in his persona that he killed Victor to try and bury. But Batman? Next to everyone else, he is still an anomaly, he is just Like That, even to his own detriment and that of the city, and he learns that he must apply being Like That to something better.

Reeves is not interested in doing "Batman vs [X]" movies, the movies are going to be focused on Batman's arc first and foremost, which means the villains will never really take them over the way they've usually done - this is a world where it's the villains who react to Batman, not the other way around. This frees them from the burden of having to exist in direct relation to how much they can directly menace Batman, and it makes it so that these are characters that can carry their own spin-offs, which is probably a lot easier for WB to work with because these are spin-offs that they don't really have to get Pattison to show up for, but they can construct in ways that don't even need Batman to be physically there. Even after The Penguin, they might not have to do that Smallville/Gotham song-and-dance of teasing a main character who'll never get to be here, there are a lot of other things happening in Reeves' Gotham besides the existence of Batman, even if the existence of Batman has changed all of them. So structurally speaking this series has a ton of room for reocurring villains, and building it has been one of their top priorities. In fact, this ONLY gets to do so because the movie already laid out the entire groundwork for them and how it all ties together.

See, the way Batman stories do the rise of a Rogues Gallery and how it affects the city and therefore Batman always follows a sort of a 7-step program:

Gotham City is ruled by crime, crime that takes away the Waynes (Falcone / Carl Grissom (89) / Falcone backed by the League (Nolan) / the Falcone-Hill-Wayne triumvirate (Telltale) / Gotham S1 and first-half of S2)

Crime begats Batman, who beats Crime

Crime + Batman = Weird Crime (Jack Napier becomes Joker after an encounter with Batman (89) / "we still haven't picked up Crane and those other Arkham inmates btw check out this weird card" (Nolan) / Black Mask and the international assassins + Joker's rise (Arkham) / Children of Arkham (Telltale) / the Indian Hill experiments and patients (Gotham)

Weird Crime Replaces Crime (The Long Halloween / Joker takes over the mob (89) / the mob is so impressed by the pencil trick they give Joker all the money (Nolan) / Joker literally replaces Black Mask in the process of becoming Batman's main enemy (Arkham) / Penguin assassinates Mayor Hill and the Children enter a war with Mayor Dent (Telltale) / Indian Hill breakout and Maniax cult and etc (Gotham)

Weird Crime is a Rogues Gallery now (Penguin and Catwoman and Max Shreck in the sequel (Burton) / Joker and Two-Face become separate problems, Bane + Talia + Crane + Catwoman in the sequel (Nolan) / after Origins a whole asylum full of them (Arkham) / Riddler + The Pact and John becoming Joker proper (Telltale) / Gotham S3 with Tetch and Riddler and the Legion of Horribles

The city is changed by the new paradigm

Batman responds / expands or retracts in response to this change

(4 and 5 don't necessarily always happen one before the other, mind you, frequently you do have a Weird Crime Rogues Gallery before Weird Crime replaces Crime at the head of the table)

And you can apply this to most other Batman stories that don't automatically start and stay at level 5. But where as all of these have to stretch the process across sequels and continuations, The Batman is the first Batman work that gets to do all 7 of them in one row. It gets 1 and 2 done offscreen before the opening act and shown to us how they happened throughout the movie's reveals, 3-4-5-6 comprise the Riddler's plot + the other United Underworld members roped into it, and it ends with 7. Even the Batmanless spin-offs follow the process: The Riddler: Year One covers Eddie's perspective on 1-2 as he enters stage 3 and prepares it for the movie, and The Penguin covers 4-5-6, leaving us waiting for Bruce's response back to stage 7 where The Batman ended.

And up until The Batman, the process behind the creation of a Rogues Gallery had never really been much of a process - comics that go into the transition like Long Halloween/Dark Victory just show the fall of Carmine Falcone -> the freaks waiting in the wings causing it or happening immediately after. Gotham tries to work that escalation gradually and it starts relatively "normal", but it's always dancing around the premise and the central black hole and the building blocks don't have anything to do with each other - the gang wars and Penguin have nothing to do with Bruce investigating a conspiracy, which has little to do with Gordon and Bullock investigating weird serial killers who keep escalating, and then eventually we get that Hugo Strange was building freaks in his basement at the orders of the Court/Ra's the whole time until they all just escape. You can piece together how Batman works that aren't about this transition ultimately touch on most of those 7 stages and have their own version of it as soon as they introduce Gotham City in a pre-Batman/pre-villain state, but the connections are always rather tenuous and not necessarily connected to each other (and it's fine, y'know, not everything in a story always has to come from the same source).

But everything in The Batman follows a long chain of dominos that had to happen for this system to become the way it needs to be for Batman villains to emerge. Everything started in that one night Thomas Waynes saved Carmine Falcone, everything started from that ensuing connection and Thomas' failures leading to a city ruled by mobsters for 20 years and the sheer level of rot and corruption and human misery that creates and justifies the existence of Batman, and thus The Riddler in his example. Everything we get in The Penguin is the result of this paradigm shift and total civic collapse, showing the destruction of Carmine's empire as well as his legacies torched and mutated by Sofia and Oz respectively. Everything is still connected. The United Underworld guys featured in the movie live and dwell in entirely separate spaces and represent entirely different things, and they're still all connected in the same chain of dominoes, which allows them to expand and cover entirely separate narrative real estate while still giving it all cohesion.

The movie never has to specifically establish a system full of supervillains or made for them, it has to establish a system so utterly fucked and dominated by Falcone, so utterly failed by every institution and body of government and system imaginable, that it creates Batman, and the minute Batman arrives and survives long enough to be a third power / a fifth state, people in his wake trying to respond to him or do the same things he does, as a response to the same afflictions he faced and to his example or influence, are the only logical thing. Without needing to literally show the other rogues waiting in the wings, The Batman established an entire world of possibility just by very smartly using the 4 big ones + Carmine and showing why and how this regular American city becomes a place where supervillains bombing city blocks and running for political office can become a facet of daily life. Joker, Penguin, Catwoman and Riddler - positioned as separate from each other as possible to show the ways in which this is, and maybe always has been, spreading fast out of Batman's control.

And now with The Penguin, reinforcing the chokehold of crime in the city in it's old ways as well as the corrupt mutated new ones brought on by our boy, as well as a new Batman Villain (possibly two, if Eve Karlo ever gets her hands on suspicious make-up) arriving from Penguin's side of things so that it's not just Batman who has a Rogues Gallery to deal with, not just Batman who has terrific enemies waiting in the wings for a chance to enact their own forms of justice and revenge, no, that's just what life is like in Gotham now, forever.

[lostintransist]

.. that idea on ghost coming back with his therapist’s contact is brilliant, could we get a pt2 when we do hit him up cuz,,, it’s inevitable and he pulls up in that same motorbike and actually plans a banger date?

Just for you! A part 2! Original post for anyone curious is here.

Also thank you for what I am percieving as patience, I had things to accomplish today. But it gave me time to think about this...

CW: I can't think of any.

You held onto the business card. No real explanation that would satisfy you or anyone who might have asked. And your best friend did ask. Repeatedly.

“You still have the card?” She asked over drinks.

Running your tongue along the inside of your teeth you debate on how to answer.

“Yes,” you reply curtly.

“And have you called the therapist or texted him yet? Do you even know his name?” She followed her questions with a sip of her drink.

“All I know is that when I search up S. Riley I get a few hits about a brother to a home invasion that ended badly a few years ago and nothing else. No one on social media matches him and without his full name or maybe a birthday I can’t find much else about someone that might be him.” Flopping back into the couch you watch your drink slide side to side as you tip your glass.

“You don’t have to call him but you have to make a decision about this soon,” she chides.

“No decision is a decision though.”

She gives you the flattest stare she can muster. Seeing as your best friend is autistic it’s a pretty impressive flat look.

Heaving a sigh you concede the point.

“Fine. I get it. I can’t avoid this forever, what if he finds me at a coffee shop again and asks why I haven’t called? S. Riley sure does seem like a man who doesn’t know how to leave well enough alone.”

“I think you should call and tell the therapist to inform him that you would like to never see him again, but you have this whole ‘attracted to the adventure’ thing going on.” She rolled her eyes.

Aghast at being so well identified, it does not matter that she is your best friend, you fire off a rude gesture at her. She only laughs.

“At least I never have to worry about not realizing I fumbled the woman of my dreams three months late,” you say with a wicked grin.

“It was one time!” Your best friend launches one of the couch pillows at you.

“Twice.”

The purest look of concern crosses her face.

“Twice?” Comes her panicked ask.

“Once at the bar,” she nods, “And then last week at the bookstore.”

Watching her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open you can’t help the full-body laugh that overtakes you.

“I thought she was just being nice!” Her voice gets squeakier with each word.

You are laughing so hard you can’t breathe.

“I fucking love you and am so glad we are best friends,” you manage to croak out between ab-shredding laughs.

💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠

Your next early day off of work you pop in your headphones and call the number printed on the business card. It sat between your insurance card and your driver’s license. Those two cards didn’t see much action and would keep the business card from disappearing.

“Thank you for calling Healing Sky Therapy, how can I help you?”

“Yes, is Anna Mortz available?”

“For a phone call or an appointment?” The sound of clicking keys bubbles over the line.

“A phone call, I am calling to speak to her about a current patient of hers.”

“Okay, and are you a provider?”

This causes you to pause. Did you really need to explain why or how you were connected to this crazy situation? No. Bare bones it is.

“No, I should be listed as a person who can discuss the care of a patient of hers who goes by S. Riley?”

“Okay,” she drags the word. “It looks like I can drop a call in her schedule in about forty minutes if that would work for you?”

“That would work great, can I give you a callback number?”

“Yes, I can take that when you are ready.”

Finishing up the phone call you grabbed your grocery list and headed out the door. Your phone rang as you were transferring bags from your cart to your trunk. The number looked vaguely familiar and so you answered.

“Hi this is Anna Mortz, I am returning a phone call.”

“Yes, hi Anna. I am the one who called.”

“That was in regards to Simon Riley, right? Let’s go through some information on my end to make sure that we can discuss him first okay?”

“Absolutely,” you slam the trunk closed and return your cart while confirming all of your information.

“So, what questions can I answer for you?” Anna started.

“Let me get settled and I will give you the rundown.” Tossing your purse to the passenger side and locking the door you get situated in your seat. You push a large breath from your lungs and start. “Okay, so this is a weird situation. The long and the short of it is that Simon had been dating a friend of mine several years back and they were not good together. He was being a pushy asshole who refused to let the relationship die and she was codependent to a deeply unhealthy level. My friend asked for help in telling him off once and for all. She tended to cave and give into having sex every time he came by to start a fight. That is where I met Simon.”

Anna made a noise of confirmation. You took it as permission to keep telling your story.

“Nothing more came of that except my friend and I drifted apart, nothing major and not important to the story. I ran into Simon next at my friend’s wedding reception. I don’t know if he showed up to confirm to himself that it was really over or if she actually invited him but,” you paused here eyes tracing the dash of the car parked in front of you. With a slight shake of your head, you focus back on your phone call. “That is neither here nor there. He hit on me that night and I told him basically to fuck off and go to therapy if he wanted a shot at that conversation.”

Puffing your cheeks with air you slowly let it out, you felt like you were explaining a whole crazy situation to the principal.

“He ran into me at a coffee shop close to probably a year later, dropped your card on the table with his number on the back, and insinuated that I would call because I was interested in him.”

“Okay, that is pretty close to the story he told me as well,” Anna speaks with kind authority. “What I can tell you from a clinical standpoint is that Simon struggles with C-PTSD, which is complex post-traumatic stress disorder. This basically means that Simon has been through so many traumatic events at so many points in his life that he has a hard time functioning day to day without it affecting every aspect of his life. I can also tell you that we have been working on him gaining some coping abilities and practicing social skills.”

“Okay, I guess what I am asking is that if I go on a date with him will I end up with a stalker who will end up killing me in the night if I say I don’t want to see him again?” You lay your concerns bare. She’s not your therapist so her judgment worries you a bit less.

“While nothing is guaranteed,” she hedges, “I cannot see that kind of behavior occurring with the progress Simon has made. He has scheduled out appointments weekly for the next three months with me and has even mentioned he is working on some other types of therapy I have recommended to help him process his traumas further. He’s actually doing the work to deal with his issues. I think he is here because he wants to be, you happened to be the trigger.”

Resting your elbow on the steering wheel you leaned your head into your hand.

“Whew, okay. Thank you. That is actually really helpful. How is he about accepting boundaries?”

“He is familiar and comfortable with them in a work context but if you choose to interact with him I know personal boundaries will come up in our sessions. So, I would keep it in mind when interacting with him.”

“Okay, thank you so much Anna this call has been,” a slight pause, “Enlightening. I appreciate your time.”

“Happy to help. Have a good day!”

With that the phone call ends and you stare down at your phone. Flicking open your messaging app you add the contact you saved to it almost a month ago.

<Your therapist seems nice.

Three minutes pass as you watch the screen. It goes black once and you wake it with a tap on the screen.

Tossing it to the passenger side on top of your purse you put the text from your mind. You instead focus on pulling out of your spot. Parking lots are of the devil and you aren’t even religious like that.

Five days pass before a message dings on your phone from one S. Riley.

>Can’t say she is nice to me. I get a lot of mean looks from her.

Setting a timer for an hour and thirteen minutes you let the text simmer. You hope he can see that you have opened the message.

<You normally take a work week to respond?

>Only when I am on a job.

The reply comes in instantly.

<What kind of jobs keep you from your phone?

>Classified.

<Ooh big brain work then. Got it.

You snort at the eye roll emoji he sends.

>So, have you decided if I can hit you up yet?

<I’m thinking about it. If I were to say yes, where would you take me?

>Indoor sky diving.

You read the three-word message at least six times, check out the closest indoor sky diving place near you, and then finally reply.

Starting and erasing three messages you finally settle on one.

<Would we ride your bike there?

>Unless you would prefer to talk on the drive over?

What do you talk about with a man when you had to check with his therapist that he wouldn’t murder you?

<Bike sounds like fun.

>Saturday?

<Maybe. Time?

>2

<Done. Pick me up at noon and we can grab lunch?

>No, you’re going to want an empty stomach. Dinner instead.

Narrowing your eyes at the message you debate the logic of testing a boundary yet. The advice to not have a full stomach did look like a good one.

<Fine, but nowhere fancy. If I can’t roll up in the same outfit I don’t want it.

The only reply you get for several hours is a thumbs up on your message.

Guess you had a date coming up.

[magicicephoenix]

Hey, I'm sorry if this sounds rude, but is it ok if you can just give me a quick explanation of dca who? au, or just send me the link to your explanation of it? I kinda just got tired from trying to find explanations of lots of aus... sorry.

hi i’m going to use your ask as a rough masterpost until i manufacture a permanent one

The DCA Who AU is inspired by the show Doctor Who. That’s why it’s called that; DCA replaces Doctor for a silly play on words. pretty please do not call it the “Who AU”, that’s not what it’s called. and you can refer to specific characters with the acronym “DW” (ex. DW!Moon, DW!Sun)

here are the designs for our main trio! the Moon and Y/N had a quick redesign so direct your attention to the second image for them. note that Y/N also wears pants and other things i just felt like giving them a skirt here :)

the Moon was inspired by the Doctor, and the Sun was inspired by the Master. and Y/N is the Moon’s companion.

Brief explanation for those who don’t know Doctor Who (but in the terms of the AU): the Moon and the Sun are of an ancient race called the Time Lords, who oversaw all of time and were very powerful. Some time ago, there was a giant battle called the Time War, in which all of the Time Lords were wiped out… except for the Moon. the Moon stole borrowed a special device called the TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimension(s) In Space), which is essentially a spaceship that is also a time machine. Years pass, and the Moon spends his time traveling from place to place; occasionally he comes across trouble, and he is one to help those who need it. The ‘start’ of the AU is when the Moon comes across Y/N during one of these bouts of trouble, and one thing leads to another and now Y/N is traveling alongside the Moon in the TARDIS!

the Sun comes much later in the story, once the Moon and Y/N become closer. he is a key antagonist and hates the Moon’s guts. why? unknown at the moment.

established lore (at the time of writing this):

the Time Lords are partly inorganic, partly organic. not just animatronics. They can open their mouths (though do not need to in order to speak) and eat. They don’t need to eat in order to survive, but it’s good for them. they also have fangs because fangs are fun. and retractable claws too.

in Doctor Who, Time Lords have a special ability that allows them to “regenerate” upon death, restoring their body with a new face and personality. in the DCA Who AU, this is replaced with a special program called the Regeneration Protocol, which kicks in when a Time Lord is fatally injured. it does a quick, barebones fix of the Time Lord’s body so that they won’t immediately die, and then initiates a mode where the Time Lord isn’t really mentally present as their body searches for materials to repair itself until they’re stable again. they will use anything (anything) in reach to do this. afterwards the Time Lord may suffer some negative effects, as running the protocol is harsh on the body & mind.

the Moon and the Sun used to be old friends. they have special nicknames for each other: “Moondust” and “Sunshine”. however, once they meet again in the AU, the Sun refuses use of his nickname. additionally, the Moon gives Y/N the nickname “Star” and also “Starlight” occasionally, and the Sun (upon meeting them) nicknames them “Dewdrop.” these names have out-of-universe significance :)

i’m using their full titles here but the Moon and the Sun are good to just be called “Moon” and “Sun”! doesn’t matter to them.

Y/N is in their 20s, lives alone, and is somewhat distant from their family. they don’t have much to return to.

the collars around the Moon and the Sun’s neck are a special cloaking device! it’s for if they time travel to a point where cyborgs/animatronic/the like aren’t considered people or are disproved of. it works as a sort of perception filter that forces the brain to gloss over the non organic parts of their appearance, essentially accepting them as whatever form of being would make sense in the scenario (ex. on earth surrounded by humans? must be human! on mars surrounded by martians? must be martian! though it usually defaults to human for simplicity’s sake, especially when the Moon’s with Y/N)

also!! there is a playlist :) songs are arranged in chronological order to the AU

[pankowkisses]

Rudy appreciation post!! 🤍

Okay so I’m pretty sure most of us have seen the hate and speculation that’s happening about Rudy, on twitter & tiktok bc it’s like everywhere now, and I js wanna ask why are we all involved in someone’s business? It’s not our business or relationship, we don’t have to be involved, we are Rudy’s fans not his keepers, it is only speculation rn. But the fact that it’s got to the point on twitter that it is pure hate and ppl trying to ruin his career & reputation is insane. Like just stop he is a twenty six year old. This is his life not ours let him live it, this man can’t catch a break from hate rn first it we hate ab his body & him being body shamed then it was jj dying, then it’s hate ab him and maddie now it’s this like what?!, I can’t fathom how much this is driving me insane I’ve had to stop going on twitter bc it’s gotten. Bad I sure hope Rudy doesn’t see this hate he’s getting, and I hope his management team are doing smth about this bc smth needs to be done. Because this is not okay, hate isn’t okay on no level is hate okay, js bc you think you know smth from one person saying one thing from being in a relationship doesn’t mean it’s always true remember the is always two sides to a story. And the fact that Rudy and teo owe us no explanation it was their relationship and experience not ours. We don’t need to know anything ab what’s going on in there lives it is their life. Please don’t assume and listen to the speculation from the internet bc it’s not always correct and remember behind the famous man this is the man your hurting rn, this is the man who’s mental health your hurting, this is the man who’s career could be ruined. Please be respectful to him and everyone involved, and think before you type things online think about how much those words on a screen can hurt bc they really can.. js remember chances are you don’t know the whole story. 🤍

[darcytaylor]

The Importance of Staying Grounded in Speculative Conversations

It’s that time again, where I’m writing what might be a thought-provoking post? Inspirational? Overbearing? I know most of you are probably tired of these by now, but hey, maybe there’s something worth considering in what I’m about to say. Or maybe not. Who’s to say?

So why am I writing this? Is it to convince you to agree with me? No, you don’t have to. Is it to share my personal take on what's going on? Nah, honestly, I don’t think my opinion matters that much. Do I have thoughts on what’s happening? Sure, but it’s not my place to tell anyone how to think or what to believe. But maybe I can offer a perspective on speculation and how people engage with it:

I’ve been reflecting on how people engage with speculation (shocking, I know! haha), especially in fandoms and even in other public spaces. People have this undeniable passion for what they believe to be true, and while that passion can be understandable - and even admirable at times - it can go a little overboard.

When I say, “I don’t actually know what’s going on because I don’t know the people involved,” I tend to get a couple of reactions: Some people see it the same way, some people get defensive, some people try to convince me to see things their way. But here’s the truth: I don’t know the people involved - and neither do you. None of us know the full story or what’s going on behind the scenes.

A lot of people will say, “But look at the evidence! It’s so obvious!” And here’s where I disagree: Without firsthand knowledge, we’re essentially trying to put together a puzzle with most of the pieces missing. And drawing conclusions from that? It’s risky at best - and misleading at worst.

What really gets to me, though, is the need some people have to stir the pot (and I guess this is the main reason I make posts like this). It seems like some people want to rile others up, making it appear like they know more or that their perspective is the only one that matters. Maybe it’s a way to feel validated or in control, but in the end, it doesn’t help anyone. It just adds noise and fuels unnecessary drama, which - can be harmful!!

When people get defensive about their views, I think I could be because they’re seeking reassurance. They want to feel like they’ve figured it out. But the truth is: none of us have all the answers. We’re all just outsiders looking in.

For me, staying grounded means accepting that I don’t have the full picture - and that’s okay. It means being open to the possibility that there could be many explanations for a situation and choosing not to rush to conclusions. This isn’t about being overly cautious or passive - it’s about showing respect. It’s about letting people live their lives without outsiders treating their guesses like hard facts.

I think if more people took this approach, fandom spaces and public discourse would be a lot less toxic. It became so toxic for me that at one point I had to step away, because of he vile anonymous asks I was getting. It’s entirely possible to have thoughtful, respectful conversations without falling into the “I’m right, and you’re wrong” trap. A little humility, and a lot more recognition that things are often more complicated than they seem, could really make a difference.

At the end of the day, none of us have all the answers -and that’s fine. What’s not fine is turning speculation into fact or stirring up drama when it isn’t necessary. So, can we be more mindful, respectful, and take a step back from the impulse to turn every guess into something?

If you see a take that isn't damaging, you don’t need to respond just because you don’t agree with it. You can let people have their own perspectives without degrading others. That said, I have no respect for speculation when it comes to matters that are too personal or just downright mean, especially when people try to act like it isn’t. Some things shouldn't be speculated on, and treating them as public fodder isn’t just disrespectful - it’s harmful.

Life’s complicated enough without us making it harder than it already is.

[formulanni]

Franco Colapinto as the Page of Swords:

The page of swords represents someone embarking on a new idea and a mental adventure. Full of enthusiasm and good cheer, this person is eager to share and discuss their thoughts and plans for what can be.

The Page of Swords is someone who never seems to run out of ideas. They are curious, always asking questions, and gifted with a sharp tongue and quick wit to match. Their aptitude for language also makes them an incredible communicator, and with their love of ideas, you may find them always engaged in some passionate debate.

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls @brawngp2009

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa, circa 40-ish hours ago: Hey, what if our newest bunch of OCs adopted a baby from one of the other brothel girls who knew she couldn’t afford to raise one? That would make for some fun shenanigans :D

Me, with a notoriously non existent sleep schedule, instinct of self preservation or concern for my poor wrist: Alright, bet. Watch how fast I can make you fall in love with this hypothetical baby >:)

Daneli as a gentle and loving caretaker-turned-adoptive-mother is something that can be So Personal, actually, and originally I was going to leave it at this quick sketch, but then I got carried away thinking about what this child will grow up to be like raised by this little gang of misfits, so…

Here she is!! A little older and so, so beautiful, I need more of her in my life immediately, she’s way too precious

And, because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t also add a sapphic element to this absolute cinnamon roll, a small crack ship that I’m only half serious about for when she’s a little older still:

All in all, we may be getting impossibly far from canon, but I for one already cannot get enough of sweet darling Kumisai <3

(I fully drew three pieces from scratch in 9 hours I cannot feel my brain or my hands anymore send help)

[sneakyboymerlin]

Begging you all to watch the show without the m•rthur lens, because all sense of who these characters even are has been lost here.

[ironhusband]

Thinking about Erik snapping at Charles with “well maybe you should have fought harder for them” and the pain in his eyes when Charles told him they didn’t want the same things.

[milo-is-rambling]

Me when I want to be wanted more than anything else

[tasukete-kaneda]

Nobody knows that this page basically started out as a body horror appreciation blog lmao 🧍

[decoloraa]

Really wanna redesign Casther’s face scar

[pennjammin]

run, rabbit, run

JJK HALLOWEEN! nanamixreader

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

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

word count. 10k

soundtrack 💿: eating - madeintyo

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

✩

You give your ass a good shake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nanami, sir!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pink,” he says, serious as death.

You giggle. “Why pink?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get it now, little fox?” he coos.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mr. Nanami-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No-”

“Then shut up and kiss me, Kento.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I guess so-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?" he perks a brow, astonished.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t,” you breathe, trembling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Kento," you pant, "please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hngh- please," you beg.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s ruined.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-Yes, but-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-You said…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…Right before you go into labor.

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

A/N 2.0

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

~ pennjammin

[tarrynightss]

what happens when sukuna’s precious little jewel actually does get pregnant ???

I’m so glad you asked Anon hehe

Concubine!reader x Sukuna thoughts part 1 here

Tags; Pregnancy, Concubine!fem!Reader, smut below cut, breeding kink, size difference, bit of lactation kink

Sukuna is not surprised when it happens after all the hard work you both put into realizing his dream. He notices a subtle change in your smell, in the energy that pulsates around you when he caresses his hand over your body. A wide grin splits on his face as he lays his hand over your lower stomach, his chest sturdy against your back. He can’t help but nuzzle his face against the side of your head, inhaling more of your intoxicating smell. “It took.”. Those simple words have your eyes widening and your heart pounding in your chest, looking back at him to ensure you understood correctly. “You’re with child.”

He’s overjoyed with the prospect of having a baby, an heir of his own. He’s more affectionate than he ever was, taking time to settle you close against him, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the growing bump on your stomach. He even caresses your hair and kisses you in an attempt to comfort you when you feel pain, all of it shockingly gentle for Sukuna. In his mind there’s a simple explanation. You did as he wanted, and you continue to do your duty well, ensuring his child is safe and growing strong inside you even when it hurts you, so you should be rewarded for it.

Sukuna has always been wary of others, but with the pregnancy he turns outright paranoid. With the amount of enemies he has he worries that one might now lash out and target you and your baby. He focuses more on maintaining barriers around the house, has someone sample your food in front of him before it’s allowed to be served to you, and you never sleep alone anymore, him always curled protectively against your side. He also decides to dismiss a large portion of his harem, not trusting them to have your best interest in mind. He knows how jealous humans can get, had seen women scratch each others eyes out just to get ahead of the other, and so the only other concubines allowed to stay are the ones you claim are your friends. He still keeps a careful eye on them, only truly allowing it because he knows that when the time comes, you will need women to aid you through it, and he doesn’t trust random midwives more than he trusts them.

Sukuna will spoil you more than ever, making sure you are comfortable in whatever way he can offer. The pregnancy is clearly taking a toll on you, your stomach having grown large and heavy, and he almost worries the size difference between you that excited him so might become the death of you. He carries you basically everywhere the last two months, wrapping you up in his strong arms and doing anything you need of him. It’s quite ironic; you used to be the one helping him get dressed, fawning over your master, and now he does the opposite for you. Though you know it’s out of necessity, it still makes your heart flutter.

That Sukuna is stressed out when you finally give birth is putting it lightly. He waits outside as customary, trying to appear stoic but panicking on the inside at your pained screams. As soon as he hears a baby cry, he barges in, watching as another concubine places the child against your bare chest. He quickly finds himself on his knees beside you, brushing one large hand over your sweaty forehead to comfort you as the other joins you in holding your baby. It’s a daughter, but she’s healthy and strong, screaming her lungs out for a minute more before calming down. You laugh, and he breathes in deeply, knowing you both made it. Relieve makes him bend forward and press a kiss to your forehead, leaning back just in time to see the child’s eyes open. Four in total, just like her father, but with the scarlet stare replaced by the lovely color of your eyes.

It surprises everyone, including you, how much of an involved father he is, holding his baby as often as he can, a large finger prodding at her pouty lips till she smiles and coos. When you apologize to him for not giving him a son, he stares at you blankly, gesturing for you to rise from where you kneel before him, putting one hand on your cheek as two others still cradle your baby. “I don’t need your apology. The child is healthy, and you will give me a son next time.” The surprise is evident on your face as your eyes snap to his. Not only is he being benevolent, but he also just said he wants another child with you. You were afraid he would discard you like a broken toy after this, no longer interesting enough to him, but it seems you still manage to hold your position as his favorite, bringing a smile to your face.

It has to be said that Sukuna can’t take his eyes off of you from the moment that tiny bump appears on your stomach. There’s something about it, about you, that makes every fiber of his being crave touching you. Maybe it’s that famous pregnancy glow, or maybe it’s the fact that he knows he’s the one who fucked a baby into you. You’re his, more clearly now than ever, and it excites him beyond his own comprehension.

Luckily for Sukuna, the hormones coursing through your body have you seeking him out desperately throughout most of your pregnancy. The first few months he fucks you like he wants to ruin you, rutting into you like an addict, but as soon as you really start showing he becomes more gentle. He wouldn’t risk seriously hurting you or his child, often seating you in his lap as he thrusts into you, his mouth lapping at your sweet neck. You still mewl so sweetly for him, so eagerly, and he already knows he might want to do this all over again after you’ve given him his first child.

Sukuna takes such good care of his little jewel, even massaging your poor sore breasts, teasing your aching nipples with his tongue. The changes to your body have him drooling all over you, his hands constantly on your growing breasts or belly. It becomes a guilty pleasure of his to touch you there, enjoying just having you on his lap as he rolls your nipples between his fingers, loving the way you squirm against him.

You find some of the changes quite embarrassing, especially when your breasts start leaking milk as you enter your third trimester. He only grins wolfishly when he notices the wet patches on the fabric covering your breasts, tutting as he pulls you to his chambers. “You need to relieve the pressure, little one.” And of course your benevolent master knows just how to do it, massaging your breasts till more drops come out, making sure he’s right there to help you through it all. This definitely gets far worse after you’ve given birth and your milk fully comes in, aching painfully to be released, Sukuna hot on your heels after ensuring your baby is fed to ‘help’ you.

[luveline]

could you write bau!reader x aaron, reader is pregnant and baby is so restless and kicking a lot as reader is at her desk working and aaron is the only one who can calm baby down

ty for requesting <3 pregnant!reader, 1k

“Woh,” you mumble, almost clipping your head on your desk as you lean forward. “Oh, my gosh.” 

“What’s wrong, mama?” 

You wave your free hand weakly at Derek, the other to your bump. “Nothing’s wrong, handsome.” 

Derek laughs warmly and stands from his chair. “I don’t believe you. Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Or I’ll go get the big man and he can force it out of you himself.” 

Hotch’s never forced anything out of you, but he has kissed a confession from you before. He could do it again easily. 

You right yourself as the baby’s rampant kicking makes you feel as though you’ll pee your pants. “Derek, there’s some crazy stuff happening inside of me right now.” 

He smiles at you fondly. “I bet there is.” 

“She’s kicking the shit out of me.” Sitting up, your back twinges and relaxes, the weight of your baby bump spreading out. You’re very pregnant and the baby is extremely active. She kicks pretty much 24/7 these last few days, and it’s driving you crazy. “Do you wanna feel?” 

Derek presents his hand for feeling. You stand up, and Derek lays a hand across your bump. You don’t have to move it anywhere: the second he touches you, he can no doubt feel the baby’s aggressiveness. She’s aiming her little feet almost like she knows where your most fragile organs are. 

One rough kick has Derek taking back his hand. “She’s beating you up, mama.” 

“She hates me.” 

“She doesn’t hate you,” Spencer says, twirling in his chair to give one of his innocuous tidbits of information, “babies kick for all sorts of reasons. They kick when they’re hungry, or after you’ve just eaten because of the extra glucose shared via the placenta. Sometimes they kick because they can feel sensation through your skin.” 

Spencer stands up. You raise your brows. “You wanna feel?” you ask. 

He grins and offers his hand. You take it and place it against the baby’s restless feet, smiling at Spencer’s smile, a little enchanted by how fascinated he seems. At Spencer’s touch, she starts to kick quickly like she had been with Derek, and eventually you have to move his hand in the hopes she’ll stop. She slows, but the occasional stretch pokes at your stomach. You can see the distension of her limb even through your shirt. 

“She’s really going for it today,” you say. “Maybe I had too much brown sugar in my oatmeal.” 

“You know babies can tell the difference between hands?” Spencer asks. 

“I sort of guessed,” you say distractedly, rubbing at the baby’s kicking with the crest of your palm. “She doesn’t act like this with Hotch.” 

“Good to know he has that effect on everyone,” Derek says with a laugh. 

“I might go and ask him to make her stop. I’m gonna need a change of clothes if she doesn’t.” 

Derek laughs again, full-bellied, his arm wrapping around your shoulders in a pitying hug. “Aw, sweetheart, you’ll be okay. Just two more months and this will all be over.” 

“Well, you never know. The longest overdue pregnancy in human history was almost a hundred days, that’s more than an extra three months.” 

“Spencer!” you say, not truly shouting, but your volume escaping you as the horror of a year long pregnancy sinks in. “Don’t jinx me.” 

Your loud voice, or perhaps Derek’s roaring laughter, draws the attention of JJ and Hotch, who appear from the depths of his office with matching curious expressions. JJ begins down the steps to the bullpen, while Hotch stays at the balcony waiting for an explanation. 

“Baby Hotchner’s giving it large,” Derek says, rubbing your upper arm. 

“She won’t stop,” you complain, relieved to see your stern husband. “Can you come and set her straight?” 

You aren’t always so quick to complain to him, but this is too much. It feels as though she’s about to start doing spin kinks against your spine —it’s honestly the most she’s ever moved. When you were just a few weeks pregnant you’d longed for her to wriggle and show you a sign that she could feel you, but now you’d appreciate a few minutes of calm. 

Hotch follows JJ down obligingly, and he, surrounded by your curious coworkers and colleagues, without any hesitation (but certainly some care), slips his hand under your blouse to feel at his baby’s sharp kicking. He presses against what might be a foot for a few moments, his smile barely hidden, his palm warm. 

“She really is giving it large,” he says, the deep softness of his voice like a signal. 

The baby’s kicks soften, until, barely ten seconds later, they stop. Your spine ceases vibrating, and you can finally stand there without having to press your thighs together. 

“Thank you,” you say, holding Hotch’s elbow. He’s well and truly saved you. 

He rubs your stomach with his thumb. His dark eyes stay set on your bump. “You’re welcome.” 

“I guess baby just missed her dad,” JJ says. 

You look at Spencer. He doesn’t say anything. “No correction?” you ask. 

“No,” he says, pouting that you’d ask. “Either she missed the sound of his voice, or your reaction to seeing him has calmed her down. That’s not a big difference.” 

“It’s both, I think,” you say, paused by a big yawn. 

“Are you tired?” Hotch asks. 

“Urgently.” You let yourself sag forward toward him, gesturing for Spencer, Derek and JJ to look away. “Thanks for your help, boys, but I need something no one else can give me.” You collapse into Hotch’s chest for a hug. 

The bump is very much in the way, but he reacts accordingly, ushering your chest to his, cheek pressed gently to your forehead. “She’s exhausted you,” he teases under his breath. 

“She really has.” 

“I love how she settles with me,” he says, rubbing your back for a long, slow handful of seconds, before he pulls away enough to grin at you. “But I suppose she gets that from her mother.” 

“You’re very calming.” 

“So I’ve been told.”