If You're An Outie In The Severance Universe And You're A Smoker Does That Mean Your Innie Is Just Constantly

I AM YOU

Mint mint mint PLEASE tell me you will one day elaborate on how reader is MARRIED when she gets with Obi. Does he know?? Are human marriages so different from dragonborn marriages that he does not truly see you as married?? Does he ever feel guilt, thinking that he took you away from man who could actually give you children?? Please quell my thoughts before i faint!!

He doesn't feel guilty at all actually!! he HATED your husband long before he had romantic feelings for you (and you weren't so keen on the man either)

I think you left him not to be with Obi, but to escape your husband and explore the world. love just happened along the way

This is the best idea in the history of film.

‧₊˚🪻✩ scent prompts

¹⁾ cigarette smoke

²⁾ cheap, dollar-store cologne

³⁾ pavement slabs after rain

⁴⁾ burning popcorn

⁵⁾ pungent gasoline

⁶⁾ heady amber incense

⁷⁾ salty sea air

⁸⁾ freshly turned earth

⁹⁾ sharp lemon zest

¹⁰⁾ floral laundry detergent

¹¹⁾ acrid black smoke

¹²⁾ stale sweat

¹³⁾ sweet coconut body wash

¹⁴⁾ rich coffee beans

¹⁵⁾ sautéing garlic

¹⁶⁾ iron-tinged blood

¹⁷⁾ sharp acetone

¹⁸⁾ crisp mint toothpaste

¹⁹⁾ synthetic cleaning supplies

²⁰⁾ cheap hotel hand soap

²¹⁾ pristine paperbacks

²²⁾ expensive, luscious perfume

²³⁾ cheap, waxy candles

²⁴⁾ grass cuttings

²⁵⁾ dense smoke

Ride, Cowgirl.

pairing: dbf!southern!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: neither of you can keep last night off your mind, needing more Frank finds comfort in your room.

warnings: age gap (reader is 22, frank is 52), use of pet names, dirty dirty thoughts!!!, mention of a divorced dad?, fingering, sex!!, praise kink asf, oral (f receiving), soft frank, reader calls him frankie accidentally, frank making noise in bed, riding like a cowgirl!!, bearded frank <3, no mentions of y/n, no descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 3514 words

author’s note: I’m in love with darlin’ and frank, they are simply the lomls currently. anyway, the end gives the perfect set up for a third part if it is desired!! In the meantime, it’s 1;30 am for me and I need sleep!! please enjoy &lt;3

read the first part cowgirl ! and the next part cowboy hats !

Boyfriend by COIN played on the speaker your dad, conveniently, left outside as you laid on one of the pool loungers.  Thoughts of Frank consuming your mind, thoughts of his hands and his voice and the way he smelled and how he looked pain that he couldn’t fuck you in the backseat of his truck. Your fingers finding themselves rubbing the side of your neck, the very spot Frank had found comfort. 

“So how did last night go?” Tiff asked, hanging over the side of the pool to look at you. Your heart raced, did she find out? How would she? Did you accidentally call her when you were panting his name like it was the only word you knew? The way you froze as she asked a simple question, immediately made her suspicious of you.

“Huh?” You asked, in hopes of getting her to elaborate just a bit so you could come up with the lie of your life. Or maybe, you should confide in her. She is your girl for life, it’s not like she’s gonna judge you for doing it. If anything, she’d praise you and beg for details.

“After I left? How did the rest of the night go? Your dad doesn’t have the most interesting friends on the planet. All they talk about is work and their lack of wives.” She rolled her eyes, laying her head on her hands and kicking her legs in the water. 

“Actually…” You smiled, bringing your knees up to your chest to hide behind them as the blush spread across your body.

“Oh. My. God. Hold on!” She rushed to climb out of the pool, dripping water all over you as she sat on the opposite end of the lounger. If gossiping was a team sport, the two of you would have ten gold medals, if anyone asked you weren’t necessarily talking shit but simply saying how you felt about people.

“So, after you left, Frank and I went to the gas station and I asked if he had been with anyone younger. I don’t know what got into me, Tiff! He just looked so…godly. I wanted to jump his bones the second I came downstairs from changing.” You covered your face with your hands and groaned, the blush was probably becoming permanent at this point. You were going to be bright red for the rest of your life.

“Your dad’s best friend?! Holy shit dude. C’mon spill!” She laughed, prying the hands off your face and sitting expectantly. You were beyond grateful for the fact she wasn’t judging you and was actually interested. Maybe that was a bad thing, you didn’t care.

“Anyway, he said ‘Not yet’ and I was in shock or something! So, I reached over and kinda did a weird caress thing to his beard. I was flyin’ by the seat of my swimsuit, I’ve never been with a man who has any sort of facial hair. But he kissed me, and I mean like Really kissed me.i’ve never been kissed like that before, Tiff. Mind blowing.” Unbeknownst to you, the very man you were speaking about had walked out the back door and could hear the whole conversation. His chest swelled with pride, in some fucked up way he was glad no one had ever kissed you like that. It meant there was a lot more he could do way better than any of the other people you’d been with, and he’d be damned if he didn’t ruin you for any other man out there.

“Your dad is about to come out here, suggest you find somethin’ else to talk ‘bout.” He hollered at the two of you, your head whipping around so fast it was a miracle you didn’t give yourself whiplash, chuckling at the way your eyes widened when you realized he had heard you talking about him. “Quit speakin’ so damn loud anyway, sure the whole neighborhood heard.”

Frank didn’t truly mean what he said, he would love to listen to you retell the story of your escapades, what he didn’t want was your father to hear and put two and two together. He didn’t need to get into some shitty mess with the one constant in his life, he owed more to your dad than he cared to admit and ruining that friendship would send Frank to an early grave. That in no way meant he regretted what he did last night, and everything else he planned to do. He simply wanted to go about all this in a way that wouldn’t cost him his friendship but still gives him his girl, gives him you. He prayed for the first time last night, and he really truly prayed, for a situation where it all works out and he’s not back to square one. With nobody. Again. 

“Thanks for the warning, Mr. Castle.” Tiff shouted back, a smug smile playing on her face, giving him a small wave. She nudged your shoulders, giggling at the whole situation. All you wanted to do was shrink and disappear, you couldn’t be more embarrassed. You felt small and helpless, your best friend thought it was hilarious. God if you can hear me, please kill me.

You spent the whole morning thinking about him and the consequence of what you did, how would your next interaction go? Would it be weird? Would he pretend it never happened, that he wasn’t dying to have you right then and there. Yet, here you were no true interaction but you were the one cowering away from it. You were the one trying to pretend like it didn’t happen, when truthfully you wanted to shout it from the rooftops and let everyone know who had given you the best orgasm of your life.

“I’m going to shrink to the size of ant and drown myself in the fuckin’ pool, Tiff. I swear to god.” You slouched as far down in the lounger as you could, squeezing your eyes closed in some desperate attempt to make it all disappear. “Of course he would be here right now.”

“Ants don’t have lungs, they can’t technically drown. Besides, it’s not like he came out here and murdered you, all he did was tell you to be quieter. He also made no indication or mention of last night, so stop lettin’ that pretty head of yours go wild.” Tiff rubbed her hand soothing up and down your arm, she knew better than anyone the way your mind would take someone breathing at you and interpret it as they hate you and want you dead. That’s why she worked so well with you, the sane and grounded to your wild and anxious. 

“I don’t think it would matter even if he did, the principle of it all is what’s causing my worries. Do you think worry dolls are still a thing? I could most definitely use one right now.” A groan once again left your mouth, your eyes opening and searching for the older man who was carrying planks of wood across your backyard. Your father walked out of the house, giving you and Tiff a wave before hollering at Frank about whatever they were building.

The whispers and giggles coming from the two of you were intriguing Frank, he wanted to know exactly what you were telling her and what you were intentionally leaving out. He wanted to know if you were even talking about him, or if she was telling you the real reason that I just left abruptly last night. Because he knew, he wouldn’t say anything to you about it unless you brought it up first, but he knew. The work in front of him was becoming increasingly less interesting, he was so close to telling your dad to throw in the towel and call it a day. He didn’t even know what he was building anymore, he truthfully didn’t care but your dad did. That was enough for him to keep going.

“Those two have been out all day, shockin’ they’re not burnt or nothin’.” Your dad commented, planting his shovel in the ground and leaning against it. He smiled your way, not that you noticed as you were preoccupied with Tiff. You were his pride and joy, his baby. He’d murder anyone for you, it was a part of the reason you never brought anyone home. 

“‘M not shocked. Last summer, I’m not sure either one of em spent any more than twenty minutes inside. Make sure she- they wear sunscreen, don’t need em getting skin cancer.” Frank was quick to correct himself, not that your dad would’ve found anything wrong with his original statement but he was covering all his bases. Not that he didn’t care for the other girl, Tiff was her name? He didn’t need to know her name, not when he knew yours. 

“I’ll make sure to pick some up from the store the next time we make it to the grocery, I know my girl wears some. Not sure ‘bout her friend.” His girl. The words made Frank irrationally angry, you were his daughter but the thought of someone else staking claim over you drove him mad. One night with you and he was acting, and thinking, like you were his wife. Wife. No.

Frank had met your father when you were nineteen, hadn’t met you until you were twenty. It wasn’t like he was truly doing anything wrong but he was going to fight a never ending mental battle about you. Going through every hoop to tell himself neither of you was doing anything wrong, that you weren’t going to be in trouble for your actions. That it was, simply, okay.

The sun was setting, the breeze taking over and raising the hair on your skin. You truly had been outside all day, with sunscreen reapplied every hour or so, you were bound to find a few sunburnt spots in your shower. You exchanged goodbyes with Tiff and made your way to your room to start the nightly routine you had adopted since being home, switching the bluetooth from the speaker outside to the one inside your room. You opened the window, your music slowly starting to dance with the breeze, when a soft knock on your door grabbed your attention.

“Hey cowgirl.” Frank whispered, just barely loud enough to be heard over your music, making his way into your room and studying it. Committing all the bits and pieces of it to his memory.

“I’m so sorry about earlier, if you don’t want me to tell Tiff anymore I won’t. I just, I tell her everything and I needed to tell someone.” Your cheeks slowly started turning pink, Frank thought you were cute like that.

“Don’t apologize, darlin’. I didn’t care, just warnin’ ya ‘bout your dad is all.” He walked closer to you, his height very apparent, your head the perfect height for his chest. He brought a finger up to your cheek, dragging it down before tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“I appreciate it, I know how much he means to you.” No you didn’t. He knew you knew a small bit not enough to truly understand what the two of you meant to him. He would be forever indebted to your father if it meant keeping you, if it meant holding you and kissing you. Consuming himself with you.

“So pretty.” He truly whispered, admiring every inch of your face, leaning down to kiss you. Your heart stopped, he didn’t regret it? He thought you were pretty?

You decided to stop fucking thinking for once and enjoy it, leaning up to meet him halfway in the kiss. Threading your fingers through his hair, much like he did with yours in his truck. One his hands held the side of your face while the other tucked itself into the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms, rubbing at the indentation it left from being worn all day. 

“Ready to ride, cowgirl?” He asked, pulling away from the kiss enough to nip at your jaw as he waited for an answer. He wouldn’t be mad if you said no, he would be patient and wait until you were, but he went home and fucked his hand like a horny teenage boy at the thought of you on top of him.

A whimper is all you managed to respond with, your mind momentarily thinking about your dad but was interrupted by the softness of your mattress touching your back. 

“Goddamn swimsuits, prancing around in practically nothing.” He remarked, still standing as he eyed your body. His finger snapped the strap of your bottoms, smirking at the sound before he dragged them down your legs. 

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked softly, making him burst into laughter. 

“For what?” He responded, controlling his laughter at the fact you would ask that right now. 

“So I can wear one that color the next time you’re over.” You smiled, looking up at him. Somehow he looked even prettier from this angle, if that was possible. 

“Uh, probably red.” He gave a bit of thought before responding, curious to know if you would actually be wearing a bikini the next time you saw him. At your house, anyway. 

He stashed the bikini bottoms in his back pocket, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your ankles and getting down on his knees. Frank thanked all the heavens and the stars for the meal he was about to eat right before licking a stripe through your folds and sucking on your clit. The stimulation instinctively caused your thighs to close, causing him to force them back open and lay one arm across a leg with his hand splayed across your stomach.

He moaned.

He moaned.

Frank moaned, was he enjoying this as much as you were? Were there any downsides or faults to this man? 

He moved his mouth closer to your clit, paying almost all his attention to it as he inserted his middle finger slowly. A wanton moan making its way to his ears, he thought everything about you was pretty. If he wasn’t rock hard when he took your bottoms off, he definitely was now. The stretch in his jeans was not entirely comfortable, it truthfully wouldn’t be able to accommodate much more. 

“Frank, Frankie, please..” 

Did you just- did he imagine that? He’d never had anyone call him that before, but it sounded so damn good coming from your lips.

“What, pretty girl? Use your words for me. Tell Frankie what you need.” 

“‘M so close, please need more.” You whined, to him it even sounded a bit like you were going to cry. He’s bet his life savings you were a pretty crier, a pretty anything. He just wanted to look at you. Always.

All he wanted to do was pull out his phone and record the pleas and the moans coming from you, to listen to later if you were ever ripped from him and he didn’t get to experience this, experience you, ever again. If it weren’t for your fucking music. He was thankful for it, blocking your sounds from anyone in the house. He added his ring finger into the mix, relishing in the sound you made. You were his drug, he truly was addicted. He needed his next fix before this one was over. 

Moments after he sped up his fingers and added more pressure to your clit, your orgasm ripped through you. Body shaking, eyes rolling back. This was better than the one he gave you last night. You’d never be able to touch yourself ever again, not the way he did. You didn’t think anyone could ever compare now that Frank had touched you. 

By the time you came to, he had discarded his clothes and was on top of you. He pulled you into a kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip and groaning into your mouth when you let him in. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth while his fingers explored every inch of your body. 

“I don’t have a condom.” He confessed.

“Don’t care, on the pill. Frankie please, I need you inside of me right now. Need your cock, frankie..please.” The sound of you begging for him had his ego going through the roof, the fact that anyone could want or need him this bad was mind blowing. 

He rubbed his cock through your folds, kissing you a bit more before he pushed the tip in. Your mouth opening in a gasp. You knew he was big, you saw the imprint in the truck yesterday. But this was different, the stretch hurt in a delicious way that you needed more of. He waited a moment before pushing in a bit more, toying with your clit and peppering your face with kisses to distract you.

He bottomed out, you had never felt so full in your life. You swore he was in your stomach, taking rearranging your guts to a new level. He stayed still, letting you get used to his size. He didn’t want to hurt you, too much.

“Frankie move.” 

Your wish was his command. His thrusts started slowly, building up in speed as he went. It was at this point, you realized Frank Castle was not quiet in bed. He wasn’t necessarily loud either, but he was groaning in your ear. The grunts and the groans were spurring you on, your moans and whimpers were doing the same for it. It was a cycle, and if either of you had your way it would never end. 

“Sound so damn pretty. Makin’ all these noises for me, huh? My pretty girl, my girl.” He put all his weight on his forearms, lifting himself enough to look you in the eyes, his hair falling out of place and onto your face. He was gorgeous, especially like this. Raw. Vulnerable. Just for you. 

“Your girl, yours.” You babbled, too busy reeling in the feeling of his cock driving in and out of you. How his bare skin feels on yours. His voice praising you. Calling you pretty. 

“That’s right, such a good girl.” His praises continued, some of them too muffled for you to hear as he sucked on your collarbone. Or your neck. Any exposed skin he could get in his mouth. 

Without pulling out, he flipped the two of you over so you were on top. Riding him. Cowgirl. 

“C’mon cowgirl, ride me. You can do it baby.” He lifted your hips up and placed them back down to get you started, placing your hands on his chest for you.  He slipped one of your boobs out of the top, you were still wearing, and put your nipple in his mouth. Rolling the bud between his teeth, enjoying the new sounds he managed to get.

You placed your weight on your hands, positioning your legs right, and lifted back up. He was somehow even deeper than before, it was almost overwhelming. His pelvic bone was hitting your clit just right every time you came down, accompanied by his groans, you were a goner. You fell into his chest as you felt your second orgasm start to rip through you, your words slurred as you told him to use you. You were his to use. 

Frank had been close since he put you on top, his self control had been wearing a bit thin. He fucked you through your orgasm, pistioning up inside you like his life depended on it. 

“Where do you want it, c’mon baby where?” He grunted, gritting his teeth as he tried to hold his release off. It was getting increasingly harder when your cunt was gripping him like that.

“Inside.” Is all you muttered out, half aware of your choice. You’d deal with it later. 

Not a moment later he painted your inside white, cummimg with a low and long groan. Relaxing his head completely against your pillows, taking deep breaths. You crumpled against his chest, just resting for a moment as he was still inside you. This was the most relaxed you’d been in ages, at some point you drifted off to sleep. 

You were awoken by the feeling of Frank cleaning you up and putting a blanket on top of you, obviously you knew he couldn’t stay. It still hurt. It hurt your heart, your soul, your everything. 

“Gotta go, pretty girl. I put my number in your phone. We’ll talk later.” His last sentence meant more than just texting you, you both knew it. At some point, lines had to be drawn or you had to fess up to your dad. But for now you’d live in delusion, in a world where you were in an established relationship and no one thought anything of it. He placed a kiss on your forehead, finished getting dressed and got up to leave. Stopping at the door he turned around to give you one last glance, you had already fallen back asleep. His cowgirl.

thinking about desperately riding nanami kento. first few buttons of his blue shirt are undone and his tie is loose around his neck. and you’re tugging on the damn thing, pulling him in closer for a kiss, mumbling something about how ugly his tie is. and he laughs, deep and breathless, as he gives your ass a squeeze. he makes you ride him harder, tells you that the two of you can go shopping first thing tomorrow morning

Long Lonely Layover (Nanami Kento x Reader)

Sitting at a bar in the Paris airport you’re approached by a handsome stranger on a similarly long layover.

warnings: SMUT, MDNI, 18+ Only. kissing, sexy, doggy, oral, getting right nasty up in the bathroom, public sex, standing sex, standing oral, talk of contreception (keep it safe yall), emotions after sex

6.7k words. Ao3 I really hope you enjoy this one, I hope was super happy to write for this big beautiful man once again. Kind of plus size coded reader(all my readers are pretty mid/plus sized coded.)

Your eyes flicked up to the bottom right corner of the news broadcast in front of you. There was a little animation card that showed the weather, the date, and the local time. 

Charles de Gaulle Aéroport, Paris. 12:22 pm

The broadcast changed to a commercial, some beautiful woman biking through a sunlit trail, a glass bottle of wine in a stylish backpack that was apparently the product for sale. How you craved to be that woman, you wanted to feel the sun instead of these harsh, artificial lights above you. You wanted to open a bottle of wine in some gorgeous Parisian park, not pay a massive up charge for each pour, as you were now. Your last flight had brought you here nearly an hour ago, you didn’t board your next flight for another two and a half. A four hour, cumulative, layover. Just enough time to drag, but not enough to fully leave the airport, stretch your legs, and enjoy some local sights. Especially with how long customs could take. You sighed, daring to check the clock display once again. 

12:23pm 

Fuck. 

The airport bartender hovered the bottle of white wine above your glass, you nodded, and he emptied its contents. In your defense, the bottle had already been opened by another patron before you sat down, you just drank the remaining two glasses worth. Taking a small sip, deciding it may be better to start savoring these— you have a long afternoon ahead of you, you scanned the airport terminal for a duty free store that may sell books. You could pick up a saucy paperback or a mystery thriller and breeze through the next few hours. No luck, you would have to close out and wander through the various hallways and levels in search of one. You took a larger sip of your wine, feeling confident in your next plan. Before you could catch the bartender's attention, a voice came from your side. It sounded like French, someone was speaking to you in French— in the Paris airport, a likely place for that to happen. But the tonality held something else, something richer and augmented. You turned toward the voice and found an apologetic looking blonde man. He was tall, even from your place on the barstool you could tell, and he was, broad shoulders, the black and burgundy pinstripe blazer that housed them looking like dark brick you’d find in one of Paris' many gothic style buildings. Catching yourself, you looked up at his eyes and saw him gesture his head toward the stool next to you. 

“Puis-he m’asseoir ici?” He asked, presumably again as you had completely missed what he said earlier. 

“The seat? Oh! No- yes! Wait no, no one is sitting there, yes you can sit here.” You didn’t know a lot of French, but this was a common enough phrase that after some embarrassing mental flip flopping you were able to answer. 

He softens, and pulls the suitcase slung over his shoulder and sets it down next to the stool,

 “Merci.”, he smiles softly, “or—I suppose—Thank You would be better, here.” 

You smiled in awe, “English and French. Very impressive.”

Nanami blushes at your voice, or maybe it was your smile, pretty, perfect teeth shining at him, your cheeks curling upward, he thought he felt his heart leap. He shrugs a bit, an attempt to downplay your compliment. 

“My French isn’t very good. Mostly yes, no, is that seat taken? Can I get that coffee or that pastry? ” He adds, pointing to the imaginary bakery case before him, “The English is okay, I do a lot of business over the phone so I get more practice.” 

“Better than mine! French slipped through my education totally. Spanish a bit, but mostly just English.” You shrug, eyeing him carefully as he slid into the bar stool next to you, making himself comfortable. 

He was brutally handsome, a long, sloped nose stopped just before a pert Cupid’s bow, tan rose colored lips stayed slightly parted as he listened to you. But his eyes, amber and honey, outer irises deepening to an oaken, whiskey brown, they took your breath away. You couldn’t look at them very long, finding yourself unable to form thought, and quickly blinking away. Small scatterings of freckles lined the tops of his hollowed cheeks, and the line of his nose, such a lovely detail on an even lovelier man. His hair was clearly styled at some point, but was quickly losing its hold, sandy blonde strands falling in front of his eyes as he read the menu in front of him. 

Nanami could feel you looking at him, the skin of his neck was heating up, he wanted to take off his jacket, but that would be too obvious. He hadn’t noticed you when he approached the bar, he truly needed a drink after the turbulence on his flight in from Tokyo, 14 hours of travel so far, 8 more to go. But when you turned your face, observing the terminal around you, he stopped in his tracks. You were gorgeous, truly gorgeous, the details of your face reminded him of an oil painting, all soft lines and creamy textures. There was one seat open on the bartop, directly next to you. Maybe he should have been embarrassed how quickly he had rushed over to you, but you didn’t seem to notice him catch his breath, or his hurried approach when you spoke to him. And now he could feel his heart drumming in his chest as he struggled to read the menu in front of him. His French was fine, he had to use it more often than he expected when he joined the French club in university. The bartender approached tentatively, you assumed he was also a bit intimidated by the Adonis that had joined the bartop. Nanami assumed it was because he could see him sweating already, confirmed by being served a glass of water nearly instantly. 

Nanami scans the menu quickly before he darts his eyes over to your half full wine glass,he turns to you. 

“Sorry,” he starts, god this is embarrassing, “which wine is that?” 

“It’s the Amici Olema. Do you want to try it?” You were taking a chance here, sliding your glass towards him.

This could be taken as a moment of generosity from a kind stranger, a massively inappropriate imposition, or as flirtation. You weren’t even totally sure which one you intended it to be, yet.

His blush darkened, and his breath hitched. Nanami tried to control his trembling hand as he graciously accepted your offer. The glass was sweating a bit from the chilled wine condensating. He could see where your fingers had been before, there was the slightest sheen on one lip of the glass, where your lips had been. He restrained himself from putting his mouth in the same spot, opting to taste from the opposite edge instead. The wine was delightful, tart and cool, there was a subtle peach note on the back. Nanami hums happily, his eyes closing blissfully, allowing it to linger in his tongue before returning your glass. He nodded toward the bartender asking for a pour of his own. You looked down at the glass in front of you, one shared between yourself and this handsome stranger. His pretty pink lips against the same glass as yours, a small smudge showing you exactly where he had sipped. The popping of the fresh wine bottle woke you from your lingering fantasy.

“Thank you for the recommendation.” He raised his glass to you.

You tap your glass against his, “I’m glad you like it….” 

You raise your eyebrows indicating you were wanting to add his name. 

“Kento Nanami.” He replied offering you a wide closed lip smile. 

You told him your name in return. Sipping your glasses in sync. There was something exciting about knowing you were tasting the same thing. The same tartness that slid over your tongue, was coating his as well. The thought made you cross one leg over the other. You pray you were being subtle enough. 

A thick silence blanketed the two of you. The noise of the airport hummed and buzzed around you. Boarding calls and codes run out from the loudspeakers in various languages, often repeated one or two times. Your fingers slid over the menu, you were starting to feel the effects of four glasses of wine, you should probably eat something. The bar menu wasn’t expansive, mostly appetizers, a few salads, a few  questionable sounding sandwiches. Nothing was making your mouth water but you could already feel your stomach growling.

“Are you hungry?” You to your left again facing Nanami who had now adorned the cutest pair of reading glasses fuck he was too much , “I’m hungry but I’m not starving and these flatbreads look pretty big. Would you want to split one?” 

“Only if you let me put it on my tab.” 

You started to protest but he raised his hand.

“For the great wine recommendation.” He finished, those honey eyes catching yours and making you swoon. 

You sighed out, barely containing your smile, “well if you insist, how can I say no.” 

He ordered with the bartender, and you dipped your wine positively smitten, his French was clean and lilting. The smallest hint of his home accent lingered, his pronunciation of the swirling language was nearly perfect. Under different circumstances this would be a very good date. You chastise yourself in reminder that this is not a date, this is just benign, unintentioned human kindness that bears no flirtation and you should be sick with yourself for even entertaining the idea. 

That is, until he removed his jacket. He leaned back in his stool, pulling the blazer away from his body. Giant, ropey biceps in a barely fitting black sweater. This guy was trying to kill you. He hung his blazer in the back of his chair, back muscles stretching the fabric even further. Thankfully, his turned body gave you solace to chug your ice water, knowing it wouldn’t satiate the thirst you were feeling. 

Nanami seemed to be unaffected by your gawking, adjusting his glasses and checking his watch, sighing at the slowly ticking time. 

You needed a second to gather your voice back, “long layover?” 

“About two and a half hours.” He removed his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose. 

You nodded, “mine too. It’s a beautiful airport to be stuck in, but…it’s still an airport.” 

He let out a laugh, his smile showed two small dimples on either side of his lower lip. 

“Do you travel often?” He asked, taking another sip of his wine. 

“For work, yes. I’d like to do some more traveling on my own. But this works for now.” You shrugged.

He nodded, knowingly, “what do you do?” 

You told him. Your job was a little complex to explain but he listened closely and seemed to relate. You two began talking about your respective careers. You learned he worked for a Japanese finance company that had a few international offices in the United States, Denmark, Argentina, and the UK. This was his first time traveling internationally for this job, being sent out to settle the last few details of a contract. He asked good questions, he listened closely to your answers. Minutes ticked by, the food arrived, more glasses of wine being poured, the stories shared became more intimate and detailed as you two grew closer both emotionally and physically. Soon you two were nearly interlocking your knees, the flatbread completed, a new bottle of wine nearly half drunk, your cheeks flushed, his glasses discarded, folded on the table.  

You slipped your cardigan off your shoulders, leaving your arms and collarbones exposed to him. The wine had heated your skin, Nanami’s eyes flicked over your form quickly before returning to his wine glass. 

“So your wife must hate being apart now that you’re traveling more.” You baited him. It was an obvious ploy on your part, the wine had numbed some of your finesse. 

Nanami smirked, immediately catching you out, “I’m not married but that was very clever. Very subtle move.” 

You laughed with him, his mix of teasing and praise sent your head fluttering. He continued,

“I do prefer my move of not-so-subtly checking if you were wearing a ring, which I did earlier when I asked about the wine.”he sipped the shallow pour still in his own glass, “you don’t wear a ring. But plenty of people don’t, are you with someone?” 

He had begun to lean in conspiratorially, as though your relationship status and your sharing of it were top secret information. But you could see the small flecks of gold in his irises now, the small beginnings of lines around his eyes, the pores along his nose and cheeks. You shook your head, catching his eyes directly. You both lingered in this moment; neither of you were beholden to someone else, the acknowledgement of shared chemistry hung between the two of you, the ticking clock of your coming departures ticked away in the back of both of your minds. Nanami watched you closely, your lips parted slightly, eyes drinking him. He would normally feel anxious being observed so closely, but your gaze was so warm, so inviting, he felt nothing but total elation. 

His gaze was so intense, you felt so seen by him. Maybe it was the wine, more than likely it was the company. The serendipity of this moment. You weren’t one to believe easily in fate, but you were inclined to believe something beyond had brought this man to you. One as beautiful, as charming, as engaging as Kento. You checked the television’s clock briefly. Only one hour left until your flight starts to board. Only one hour left before you never saw him again. Only one hour. 

“Can I ask you something, kind of crazy?”  The words slipped from you before you could think rationally. 

Kento had noticed the time as well, counting down the remaining fifty-nine minutes until your separation. He had donned his wire framed glasses again, wanting to memorize every inch of you in perfect clarity. He raises his eyebrows at your question, heart pounding in private hope. Could you? Would you? 

“Please.” He answered, leaning closer, his knee sliding against yours, “ask me anything.” 

You flicked your eyes down to where his body touched yours, you hadn’t yet felt him touch you, but even the brush of his clothed leg against yours had your throat tightening. 

“I’m not one to…ask this sort of thing, but since I’ll probably never see you again after this, I won’t have to bear the shame.” You swallowed hard, begging your courage to stay with you, “you’re…incredible. I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re smart and funny and so charming and you’re…fucking stunning. I would be so remiss if I didn’t ask…” 

Your words were failing you, your heart racing, you scanned his face for any sign of coming rejection and your throat caught, closing it off from more words. 

Fuck. You were caving in. This was so embarrassing, so presumptuous. You had ruined what could have been a good memory. 

Fuck

Kento gave you another moment to see if you would finish your question. When it was clear you were psyching yourself out, he watched as you sighed frustratedly. How sweet.

Nanami put the toe of his shoe under the foot rest bar of your barstool and pulled your seat closer to him. Your eyes shot open, embarrassment quickly turning to confusion. Nanami put his arm around the backrest, just barely brushing over your back as he did. Bringing you back to look at him, he smiled wider at your sweet, blushing face. He moved a piece of hair out of your face, fingers lingering on your soft skin. His touch was electric, enticing, you wanted those fingers in your mouth, on your body, anywhere, everywhere.

“I would be honored to find somewhere private where we can pass the rest of this layover.” Nanami’s eyes had grown darker, full pupils and focused, “if you’ll indulge me.” 

In a flash the tabs were paid, both by him, drinks were finished, bags were grabbed, and you had quickly located the closest empty room with a locking door to you. Nanami’s hand on your lower back ushered you inside quickly before shutting and locking the door behind him, pulling on it once to guarantee you wouldn’t be interrupted. You set your bag on the ground, next to his own carry on, and stood back up. Facing him directly, now in total privacy, in the motion activated light of this family restroom the ticking clock faded, the crowd of the airport was forgotten, it was only him and you. Nanami looked at you, head to toe, before taking a few careful steps toward you, as one would approach a centerpiece in a well curated museum. Thoughtful and admiring. He stood chest to chest with you, although as a tall man he stood quite a bit above you. He hadn’t yet removed his glasses, they sat perched in his nose, intending the skin on either side. You could smell his cologne, something subtle and herbal. Bergamot and cedar. His large, warm hands came to cup your face, yours covered his.

“I’m usually much more of a romantic. I hope you’ll forgive me.” Kento leaned in, his lips barely brushing yours in apology before kissing you. 

From the moment your lips touched, you were gone. He tasted like the wine you shared, his lips were soft and hungry. It took no time at all for your tongue to find its way past his lips. His hands flew from your face to your waist, up your back, down to squeeze your hips. Yours similarly wandered, across the downed of his back, up his arms, tugging at the cropped hair at the nape of his neck. The bathroom quickly filled with the wet, smacking sounds of your kisses. You removed his jacket, and your own. Soon your shirt was discarded on the floor. You didn’t even have time to lament not being able to wear something nice before he pulled your comfort focused sports bra over your head, your breasts falling freely. He watched them bounce freely before settling, his mouth watered. You covered yourself shyly. 

“Don’t stare…” you weren’t sure where this bashful side of you had come from, surely he was pulling it out of you. 

He moved your arms, baring your chest to him again, before moving onto his knees before you. His hands traveled up your body, pawing at your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. 

“You’re right, we have so little time.” Nanami looked up at you wickedly, something devious and titillating behind his amber eyes, “and I have to get you ready.” 

Before you could inquire further he began to pull your comfy travel pants off of you, untying the drawstring easily, stretching elastic, not your sexiest apparel but here he was down on his knees begging for you. You realized he hadn’t yet removed his sweater so you tugged at the back of the collar. He pulled the black knit over his head, in a second. You took the opportunity to slip off your sneakers and removed your pants fully. His body was just as incredible as it seemed, he truly was something out of myth. Gladiatorial build, masses of muscle cut lean under his fair, even skin. The freckles on his face littered his shoulders and the tops of his pecs, his abdominal muscles were further contoured by a tan colored happy trail leading into his still belted and buckled trousers. You moaned at the sight of him, making him smirk (and blush). He returned to his spot between your legs before looking back up at you. 

“Do you trust me?” He spoke, voice rough with arousal. 

You nodded desperately. You did. Anything he wanted from you, you would have given him at this moment. It wasn’t until he moved one of your thighs over his shoulder and snaked the paired hand up your back to support you, that you figured out why your trust was necessary. Immediately your blood ran cold, anxiety shadowing your arousal. He looked like a strong guy…but you were a fully grown woman: tummy, thighs, breasts, and arms to show as much. Never did you think someone would even attempt to support your full weight like he was implying. 

“Kento…wait..I’m-“, you protested, trying to move to stand on your own legs. 

His grip was iron as he kept your leg on his shoulder, he was at eye level with your pussy, hypnotized by the sight of you wet and waiting for him. He would not be denied. 

“I regularly bench more than 180 kilos, you’re a warm up. Please trust me.” 

His voice was so flippant, as though lifting your entire body over his shoulders was the most obvious feat in the world. Your reservations held strong until his pleading eyes looked up at you again, his mouth watering, hair disheveled, he looked so hungry. You couldn’t bear the thought of depriving him.

“Please.” He asked again, giving your leg on his shoulder a soft squeeze. 

You nodded again, and he slung your other leg over his shoulder in one perfect lift. You now sat on his shoulders with your back against the wall, his hands holding your waist and hips. Finally, after three excruciating hours of build up, Nanami finally tasted you. If he weren’t already on his knees they would have buckled. You tasted better than he had imagined, so wet for him already, your pretty moans still reaching his ears even through your legs against his head. Your hands found his hair, gripping onto him for stability, taking your nail across his scalp as he lapped feverishly at your cunt. He didn’t realize he was making deliciously primal grunting sounds as he gorged himself on you. His moans sent vibrations into your core and up through your body. You rushed to cover your mouth as he shook his head side to side, tongue flicking perfectly at your swollen, throbbing clitoris. 

“Fuck!” You panted, not caring how hard the back of your head hit the bathroom wall, “you’re so good at that, fuck, Kento—ah!”

Nanami smiled, drunk of your taste, your sounds, the feeling of your body on his shoulders. He was losing himself completely, he could have stayed like this for eternity. Pleasuring you could become his life’s purpose, his calling, he could be the devotee at the altar of your sexuality and die a happy man. But he was all too aware of the ticking clock that would rip you away from him. Luckily, he was a man who thrived under a deadline. 

Nanami sucked hard at your clit, alternating between pushing his tongue deep into your hole, and circling it around your clit. You couldn’t believe how good it felt, in just a few minutes he had solidified himself as the best loved you had ever had, and it wasn’t even close. 

But you were, you could feel your impending orgasm rushing toward you like a speed train. You whimpered into your palm, trying to warn him, (or warn yourself?) about what was to come, but he could already feel it. Your hips were shaking against his face, legs clamping down against his ears. Like a true expert, he didn't change a thing, his patterns and devotion bringing your orgasm crashing down around you in seconds. 

You cried out into your palm, the other hand gripping the back of Kento’s neck to hold him in place. He was happy to relish in your climax, sucking in everything you released onto his eager mouth. When you couldn’t take anymore, you pushed at his forehead, whimpering. 

“No more, no more. Please.” 

When his mouth was no longer attached to you he sucked in a breath, coming back to himself. He squeezed the flesh at the top of your thighs, right where they met your hips and tummy, coming down from his own haze he pressed soft, intentioned kisses to the insides of your legs. He turned his eyes back upward, his pleasure drunk eyes and dripping mouth making you swoon. Nanami eased you off his shoulders carefully before lunging to kiss you again, it was so dirty to taste yourself on his tongue. 

“You taste like heaven. I don’t know how I’ll go without now that I’ve had you.” He uttered against your lips, tongue still charging forward against your own. 

You mewled at his praises, “you’re so good. Too good. You do this a lot?” 

Hot kisses fill the gaps between words as you bring your hands to his belt, unbuckling and pulling at the waistband of his pants. Kento shakes his head, pulling off from the kiss to look you in the eye. 

“I’ve never done anything like this before.” He was as shocked as you were.

He wasn’t usually social, let alone pulling people who were essentially strangers into private corners to have sex with. You had brought something out of him he hadn’t even known existed. Something primal and desperate, something passionate and consuming. You were touched at his admission, and awestruck by his natural skill and the situation you were in. You kissed him again, finishing the removal of his belt. His hands trembled with enthusiasm as he helped you remove his pants. You couldn’t help yourself, you reached past the fly and palmed him through his briefs. Fuck. 

He was big, thick and full and so hard it was a miracle he wasn’t in tears. You moaned at the heft of it in your hand, which only caused the caged erection to pulse more. You wanted to taste him,to feel the weight of it in your mouth, to  know every inch of this man before he was gone from you. Kento groans at your hand stroking him through the fabric, indulging briefly before putting his hand over yours, training his eyes back to you. He looked disheveled and desperate, hot mouth hanging open to catch his breath, eyes hazy and drooping. 

“We don’t have enough time….” He mumbled, his forehead pressing against yours, eyes screwed shut he huffs out as you squeeze him, “I don’t have a condom…I’m sorry.”

“IUD.” You assure him, desperate to feel him raw inside of you, to feel him pulse and grow and cum.

He grips you harder, eyes opening wide, “Are you sure?”

You nod, practically lapping into his mouth for another sloppy kiss. He removed his cock from his briefs, not pulling his pants down or away and stroked himself a few times, each one eliciting another moan into your open mouth. Holding you close against him, Nanami allowed himself to luxuriate in the feeling of your body pressed against him. Trying to remember the heat, the weight of you in his arms, the smell of your perfume, the way your hair felt in between his fingers. He ignored the ache in his heart as he struggled to imagine how he would be able to let you go now that he held you. He couldn’t bear to think about that yet. Not while he could have you now. 

“Brace your hands against the door, please.” He ordered against your lips. 

You nodded before turning and placing your hands in the form of a standing push up against the locked, all too thin door of the restroom. You shivered as you felt Kento’s hands outline the form of your body, nearly crumbling entirely when you felt the tip of his cock brush against your ass. He leaned in close to your ear, moving your hair to one side, one of his hands interlocking with yours against the door. His chest pressed against your back, radiating heat. His breath tickled the tiny hairs on the shell of your ear.

“I’m sorry this isn’t more romantic. You deserve to be worshiped and spoiled properly, I’m sorry I can’t give that to you now.” Kento’s tongue trailed up the side of your neck as his unentangled hand aligned himself with your sex. 

When Kento Nanami finally entered you, it was inhuman the speed at which he rushed to cover your mouth, stifling the cry that came from you. 

He shushed you hurriedly, “You sound so beautiful but I can’t have us interrupted. Bite my hand if you need to.”

He filled you so completely, thick and deep. He was so big, you felt your velvet walls throbbing around him already, beating in time with your frantic heart. His hand kept yours locked against the door, fingers interlocked sweetly, despite the firm grip. His other hand held your hip in place, he pulled out nearly to the tip before filling you completely again, somehow deeper than the previous. His cock head pushed right up against your cervix making your eyes roll back and you whimper pathetically against his palm. After another thrust your arms started to shake, barely able to hold yourself up against the door. Nanami, of course, noticed.  

“Here, hold your arms like this.” Still sheathed inside of you he moved your arms in front of you, folded together as though you were sleeping, and pressed you further against the door, body now flush against the cool metal and wood. 

You buried your head in your arms, every thrust of his sending you further and further into total euphoria. You tried so hard to be quiet, keeping your mewls muffled against your arm, but it was so difficult when he really started to thrust, setting a delicious rhythm that even your best toy could never achieve. 

Nanami’s teeth were threatening to pierce the skin of his lip, the groans and grunts he held back threatening to erupt. You were so tight around him, if he had had any thoughts left he would have worried his cock would snap off. He palmed the flesh of your ass, spreading you out to watch your walls stretch and cling to him as he thrust in and out. He nearly came right there, eyes rolling back, a throaty huff leaving him, he couldn’t watch anymore or he would lose himself completely. He found solace in pressing his forehead against the connection point of your neck and your shoulder, whispering to you in a long stream of praises and promises. 

“You feel so good. You’re taking me so well. I would have taken you out first, if I could have. The nicest table at the best restaurant I know, you deserve it. Fuck. Fuck, anything you wanted. I should have had you in a beautiful bed, you’d look so gorgeous splayed out for me--agh, fuck you’re getting so tight. You’d like that, huh?” He shuddered as you clenched around him, body shaking, resolve crumbling. 

His words were growing more and more nonsensical, sounds paving through thought to fill the small bathroom. Everything about him felt engineered to make you cum, and you were so fucking close, you could feel his cock twitching between thrusts, he was getting close too. You raised your head from your arms, he seized the chance to press his forehead against your cheek, his lips meeting your skin anywhere he could. Your ear, your cheek, your jaw. You felt spoiled, you felt ravished, you worried you may never be able to fuck another person. No one would have you again, no one could make you feel like this, only him. Only him. There was only him. 

“I-I can’t last…I--” Nanami pleaded in your ear, his whisky voice dowsing you in pleasure, your eyes rolling back, mouth dropping open into a silent scream. 

Your second orgasm was summoned in full force, tipping over the edge and arriving all around as Kento sounded the most delicious, salacious moan directly against the skin of your face. His hips jerking beyond his control, his own orgasm being pulled from him by you and your fluttering cunt. He pushed in as far as he could, tip pressing against your cervix. His hands held your hips so tight you knew he would leave bruises, you silently prayed that they would never leave you, that you had been marked by him forever. Your breath returned to you in choppy, pitched up gasps, he was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, catching you before your legs could fail underneath you. He was still filling you, spurt after spurt of white painting the inside of you as you trembled in his sturdy arms. Panting together, folded together, coming down from a simultaneous climax you and Nanami shared a moment of singularity, joined together completely, with no sense of time or place, nothing existed outside of the pair of you. And the pair itself held no boundary, no ego, no sense of self.

The bliss was quickly chased away by the remembrance that after this, you would never see him again. A dual continental moment of chance led you here. However distance, logic, and responsibility would rip you apart. Despite the ache in his heart, Kento was the one to break the embrace, kissing the bare flesh of your shoulder blade as he pulled out and slowly set you back onto your own feet. His hands didn't leave you until your colt legs had grown into a firmer foundation. At which point you felt a chill surrounding you, embarrassment, fear, but above all of that: a profound and perhaps overinflated sense of loss. Nanami shuffled behind you, the sound of a zipper, the retrieval of his discarded sweater. You couldn’t turn to face him yet, you didn't want to see the denouement, for it to truly be over. 

Fabric brushed against your tricep, calling your attention back into the restroom. 

“Your pants.” Nanami’s voice was gentle, so different from the raw honey depth you had just experienced, You turned on an inhale, accepting your clothing back. 

He watched you start to redress, with every inch you pulled up your pants, covering your shapely naked legs, he sank further. He didn’t expect to feel so empty, truthfully he hadn't expected this at all, he meant it when he told you he hadn’t ever done anything like this before, he had the occasional one night stand but always in more formal, organized scenarios. He didn’t think himself capable of such raw passion, such chaotic intimacy. He wasn’t ready to forgo this new streak in himself. 

He was dressed far before you, now focusing the entirety of his energy mourning the loss of the sight of you. You found your bra on the floor, and by donning it, sealed the sight of your round, smooth, perfect breasts away from him forever. Your shirt went over your head and covered the expanse of your bare stomach, the early stages of finger shaped bruises on your waist no longer for him to admire and take pride in. When you were dressed again you turned to face him, scared eyes softening at the sight of him. 

“This was…” You started, unsure of how to finish. 

Unexpected? Sudden? Life changing? Mind blowing? Emotionally irresponsible? 

He nodded, knowing whatever you chose to fill that blank, he was feeling too. He took in a long breath before closing the distance and pulling you into a long, deep kiss. His arms wrapped around your back, one hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head. No clashing tongues, no biting lips, no frantic hands grabbing whatever they could. Just his swollen lips joined with yours. Your eyes were closed but you could feel the sting of tears starting to build. You fought them down and focused instead on memorizing the feeling of his kiss. When he finally pulled away he held your face in his hands, brushing one cheek affectionately with his thumb. Those golden brown eyes beheld you so kindly, so tenderly for a second or so…had it been eternity, it wouldn't have been long enough.

 Nanami’s watch glinted under the overhead lighting, flashing lightly in his eye, alerting him to the time: 3:03pm, his flight had begun boarding. He sighed, looking back to you. 

“Listen…”He started, eyes boring into you, “This was…incredible. You are incredible. I don’t want to go, my flight is boarding. Its the last one out tonight or else I would miss it, I promise.” 

You laughed a bit, your smile returning. He separated from you to dig through his bag before pulling a business card out for you.

“I know this is unlikely but, if you’re ever in Japan, I would love to see you. Please, reach out.” He gazed at you hopefully, however not expecting an answer. 

You nodded, watching as he picked up his bag and peered in the mirror, brushing the front part of his hair back in an attempt to look less like he had just fucked in the family bathroom of an airport terminal, it was not successful. He moved to the door, unlocking it carefully, before stopping himself. Kento turned back to you, chuckling in spite of himself. 

“I don't want to go.” he repeated, just barely audible to you. 

This time you traversed the gap between you, kissing him once again. He struggled to hold you again with one hand holding his bag, but he managed, indulging fully in your lips for the last time. 

“Thank you for this, Kento. You are really something amazing.” You brushed some of his hair back from him after separating your lips, “If I am ever in Japan, you’re my first call.” 

He smiled down at you, unable to resist pecking your lips one final time before opening the bathroom door and peeling away from you. When the door closed you took in a long breath. You were thankful for how it had ended, you were far more thankful that it had happened at all. He was already becoming a fond memory you would treasure forever. One day you would remember him as a testament to your youth, to being exciting and risky. But for now, the smell of his cologne still lingered in the room, the sound of his moans still rang in your ears.

You made your flight just before the gate closed, having taken too much time in the bathroom trying to cool your flushed face, smooth your mussed hair, rid yourself of the smell of sex that seemed to stick to you. You didn't miss how the flight attendant rolled her eyes at your approach, scanning your ticket and allowing you to enter the bridge. Luckily your employer had sprung for a first class seat, so you didn’t have to rush the length of the plane in order to find your row. You were grateful to find an empty spot in the overhead bin only a few rows ahead of where your seat should be, quickly stowing it away before moving between the aisle apologetically. You were thankful you had chosen an aisle seat so you wouldn't have to ask whatever poor sap was sat next to you to get up so you could sit down. Finally you arrived at the row and seat number that matched your ticket. Raising your head from your triple check of your seat number you saw your seatmate. A broad, beautifully built blonde man in a black knit sweater whose cum was still sticking to your legs. He gawked at you, you felt your mouth mirroring his in a surprised O. 

“This is your seat?” Was the only thing you could think to ask. 

Before he could stutter out an answer the flight attendant who you had already wronged interjected, “Ma’am, please find your seat and sit down.” 

You nodded, still in disbelief staring at him as he stared back at you. You took your seat next to him, your shoulders touching. Such a small touch felt electric as though he hadn’t been inside of you just minutes earlier. Neither of you could say anything yet, stunned, elated silence settling in the inches between your seats. Without having to say a thing, Nanami reached across the arm rest and picked up your hand, closing it in his. You turned to meet his eyes, which were somehow more brilliant and inviting than they had been. It would take eight hours and some change before you reached New York City, eight more hours with him. Eight more hours. 

ooooooooh! maybe a cheeky part 2? :P who knows!!! I really hope you guys enjoyed this one! Thank you so much for reading, and for all of your support with my writing, it makes me so happy. Love as always, --Doodle.

Literally cannot emphasize enough that my #1 writing advice is to stop being afraid. Stop being afraid of sounding too cringe, or too stupid, or too horrifying, or too horny, or too weird, or too much, or too little, or too you. You need to put your entire pussy into your art. Sure, it won't be to everyone's tastes, but if you keep yourself to the blandest tamest safest roads possible you will be of no one's tastes, not even yours.