ৎ୭ your hair is in an updo state, nudity ₊ ˙ ⊹ .
nanami kento (your husband of two months, one of the most feared and respected yakuza bosses in japan) is waiting for you in your home’s hot springs — cheeks rosy, relaxed, naked.
you have used the luxurious spot in your new home quite a few times, though you have never stepped foot into it with your husband present.
tonight, however, he had arrived a little earlier than usual — had caught you cutting mangoes in a robe, had smiled as you told him what you were up to, had asked if it was okay if he joined you.
of course, you had said yes — because how could you have said no?
now, you stand behind the sliding doors that lead outside, to your awaiting husband, your hands on the knot of your robe.
it can’t be that bad, right? it’s just a little nudity. and he’s seen you naked before, though only once.
you step outside, undo the knot of your robe.
your husband lifts his head, removes the small towel from his face and admires — how the dim fairy lights illuminate your body, your hair in its updo state, the nervousness that seems to course through your body.
“hi again, angel.”
you smile quietly, body melting as you step into the warmth of the hot spring. “hi, kento.”
you stay on the opposite side (a bit too far away from your husband) and hum in appreciation of the water, the croaking frogs, the moon and stars.
“come,” kento says ever so gently, makes you startle. “i won’t bite. unless you want me to.” your usually stoic, incredibly serious husband smiles with an abundance of ease and softness.
and you can’t seem to deny anything he asks of you, so you walk toward him and stare up into his eyes.
“let me give you a massage,” he breathes, motions for you to turn around. “you look stressed.”
the water splashes with your movements and a quiet moan slips from your lips as your husband’s big, rough, murderous hands massage your shoulders.
“you are too kind to me, kento. i should be the one offering you a massage.”
you can hear the slight smile on his face as he responds, “my duty is to care for you,” his thumbs rub perfect circles into your flesh, “so, please. let me care for you in any way i can, angel.”
how could such a ruthless and powerful yakuza boss be so tender with you — who invaded his home and refuses to be intimate with him (as a good wife should be, according to your mother), who is so inadequate?
“you are too kind,” he breaks your train of thought, continues to massage your shoulders. “too beautiful, too sweet — an earth angel. please, let me take care of you.”
and once again, you can’t deny him.
“thank you, kento. you’re the perfect husband.”
he leans down to press a gente kiss to your flesh and you tilt your head back the slightest bit.
“and you’re the perfect wife.”
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random musings on the mood of a strong, summer thunderstorm:
heat that clings to your skin—dewy with a sheen of sweat, but it turns to prickled goosebumps when the breeze smooths over you.
the roll of thunder starts out dull, but it gets deeper, cracks louder, as it gets closer. you can see the sky darkening—inky blue like the color of the deep ocean—and drawing together.
there's a heaviness to the air; the potential for the pour of rain to start at any second, but for a moment all of the unspilt energy just hangs, suspended in the clouds above.
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burying your face in his neck while you ride him on the couch. feeling his head turn and his lips glide a wet path over your jaw before he nips at it, breathing something about how good you’re making him feel — or maybe something with more of a teasing edge. getting tired? need me to do it for you? his hands cupping under your ass, getting a good handful before moving up to grip and guide your movements. maybe a light smack for encouragement. there you go, don’t stop now. ride that dick. you do it so well, baby. so well that i don’t think i can pull out.
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youre covered in blood?? like some kind of slut??
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anyway the actual point of fandom is to inspire each other. reading each other's fics and admiring each other's art and saying wow i love this and i feel something and i want to invoke this in other people, i want to write a sentence that feels like a meteor shower, i want to paint a kiss with such tenderness it makes you ache, i want to create something that someone else somewhere will see it and think oh, i need to do that too, right now. i am embracing being a corny cunt on main to say inspiring each other is one of the things humanity is best at and one of the things fandom is built for and i think that's beautiful
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crazy when they make your pussy quake and they’re lines on a screen
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