#I’m definitely already writing this

[viperwhispered]

Too Hard

Woop part 2 of the trip inside Jamil's head. Part 1 here.

The next time Jamil caught sight of you on campus, his first instinct was to turn around on his heel.

What a stupid thought to have because of you.

Besides, that would only make him more conspicuous, not less.

So, when your eyes met his, Jamil gave you a short nod in greeting. He would’ve left it at that and kept on his way, had you not walked up to him.

“Hi Jamil! How’s it going?” you said with that impossibly disarming smile of yours.

Why was it so difficult to look at you like he normally would? You had no right to make him feel so stiff, so unnatural.

On autopilot, Jamil exchanged a few pleasantries with you - those lessons from his parents had been instilled too deep in him for him to falter too badly in a simple exchange such as this. Still, Jamil quickly excused himself by telling you he still had to find Kalim before his next class.

Jamil didn’t miss the way your smile faltered. Had you hoped to get something out of him?

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you two later, then.”

Something about that irked him, though Jamil did not allow himself to dwell on it further.

His heart really had no business still racing as it did when he walked away, unaware of the frown on his face.

Just act normal. That’s all he needed to do.

After all, he had no time for dwelling in silly fancies.

If Jamil had been acutely aware of you before, it only seemed to worsen now that he was making a conscious effort to not act any differently with you. In fact, the harder he tried to keep you out, the more you invaded his thoughts, unsettling him.

The most innocuous words from you looped in his mind, and even the simplest actions caught his eye. For goodness's sake, he’d found himself staring at you while you were queueing up in the cafeteria the other day, not even doing anything other than standing around and looking bored!

For once, Jamil found himself grateful for all his duties. At least they provided him with something else to occupy himself with.

After all, if he was busy enough, it was difficult to think about those bright eyes of yours, your sweet laugh, or the way you bit your lip while thinking.

Still, sometimes it felt like no matter which way he turned, you were there, ready to throw him off-kilter. Not like it was his fault that often the most convenient route to class intersected with your daily routines. Or that your face seemed to jump out from any crowd, catching his attention.

Which certainly did not help his basketball performance. Jamil certainly did not recall you having such an interest in sports before, yet suddenly you were always there, distracting him. What had changed?

Could you possibly-

Jamil scoffed to himself, forcing his thoughts back on track for the nth time that day.

He picked up the tray of food and started taking it to Kalim. After dinner, he’d need to help Kalim with his homework, there were some housewarden tasks that would need dealing with, not to mention the preparations for the next-

Jamil froze in his tracks.

The voice he heard was quiet, but it was unmistakably you.

Really, it should not have come as such a surprise to him. You had become a rather frequent visitor to Scarabia, and Kalim often invited you to stay for meals. In fact, Jamil had started planning the dorm’s meal prep with your tastes and dietary restrictions in mind, just in case.

Jamil rounded the corner with strange exhilaration, his heart fluttering needlessly.

Yet, his mood evaporated when he saw you.

Why did you stop talking and look so guilty as soon as you caught sight of Jamil?

Jamil knew that look you gave to Kalim, had used it himself a thousand times. The one telling Kalim to keep quiet about something.

What could there possibly be that you would be comfortable sharing with Kalim, but not with him? That would give Kalim reason to sit so close to you, a comforting hand on your shoulder?

Jamil's mind raced with possibilities, yet could not settle for any single explanation.

He’d have to ask Kalim about it later.

Jamil gave you a short, polite greeting, his eyes lingering on you in an attempt to read what you were hiding.

“If I’d known you were coming over, I would’ve prepared something for you to eat as well,” Jamil said, already thinking about which parts of the dorm’s dinner to spruce up for you.

“Oh, no need, just figured I’d pop by. I’ll get out of your hair soon enough,” you said, something sheepish about your expression.

As expected, Kalim asked you to stay and dine with them, and with just a bit more persuasion you agreed - though not before telling Jamil that he should join you too and have himself a breather.

And since Kalim agreed with you, Jamil soon found himself sharing a meal with you and Kalim. Yet, even as he sat down with the food, his mind raced.

Had you been getting particularly close to Kalim lately? But surely Jamil would’ve noticed such a thing. Maybe someone from the dorm had been giving you trouble? But if that was the case, then surely you could let Jamil know about it, too. Unless for some reason you did not want to? But if it was something that concerned Kalim, then sooner or later it was bound to concern Jamil, too.

All the while, Kalim was talking to you about this and that, the latest topic being the animals kept on the Asim estate.

“I’ve got some pictures, let me show you!” Kalim said with an excited grin.

Only, a thorough patting of his pockets and a look around confirmed that Kalim’s phone was nowhere to be seen.

Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. Where had Kalim left it this time?

Before Jamil even had the chance to say that he would handle it, Kalim sprinted off. Jamil hesitated for a moment, automatically halfway up from his seat, before he decided that leaving a guest unattended would be a worse offense than not helping out his master.

Jamil slumped back down with a sigh, mentally tracing the path Kalim took today, trying to recall the last time he saw Kalim handle his phone.

“Breathe. He’ll manage,” you said. There was the faintest of smiles on your lips, and Jamil could not decide if it was knowing or amused. Perhaps both.

Somehow, despite his frustration, Jamil’s own lips wanted to curl up too.

“Hmm. Maybe he will.”

Sure, Jamil could’ve called Kalim’s phone, to make it easier to find, but it was not that urgent, was it?

Jamil took another bite of his food, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.

How was his mind so empty and so buzzing at the same time?

“You know-”

“So-”

You looked at each other, both just as surprised that the other had spoken up at the same time.

Even your surprised look was so-

“You first,” Jamil said. The way you bit your lip... Jamil had to raise a cup to his lips, slowly sipping his drink.

“Just… Feels like it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you be still, you know. Or exchanged more than two words with you,” you said. You were attempting a light, joking tone, yet it was quite clear there was more to it.

“You say that like it would be unusual for me to be busy.”

He was not prepared for the way your soft sigh tugged at his heartstrings.

“No. It is not.”

You were both quiet after, poking at your meals. Normally, Jamil would’ve cherished such a moment of peace, yet this particular silence between you two was decidedly awkward.

Where was your usual chatter? Why weren’t you looking at him like you usually did?

“If you’re worried about me, don’t. I’m fine,” Jamil said, some softness creeping into his tone despite his best intentions.

“That's what Kalim said too,” you said. Yet the way you looked at Jamil made it clear you were still skeptical.

Wait.

Had you clammed up earlier because it had been Jamil you had been talking about with Kalim? That Kalim had comforted you about?

The thought twisted his stomach into knots.

Eta: you can find part 3 here, part 4 here, and finally part 5 here. Hasdhfsdf the way I fought with that last scene I swear. I don't even want to know how many versions I went through, trying to figure out how to say what I wanted without rubbing it into your face or making it too veiled. The joys of trying to convey things through a limited pov. Hopefully it came out reasonably balanced in the end. Rip to all those sentences that were lovely on their own but didn’t work for the whole. Hopefully I can rehome y’all one day. I do have thoughts for part 3 and part x (might be some chapters between those two as well, who knows at this point), so maybe we'll see those at some point, too. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for future works, let me know! (Just be aware that sometimes I do also write nsfw, though you can certainly ask to be tagged only for particular kinds of works.)

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: this got long sorry 😔 but creepy/perv bakugou, recording, film major bkg x art major reader, masturbation, coercion, dubcon before it just becomes con, voyeurism/exhibitionism

as an art major, you typically did some works for a few students on campus; for their plays, as background pieces while they danced, a cover for their released songs. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to ask you to create something for them, and you enjoyed it more often than not. but, you weren’t usually the art itself.

Bakugou is a friend’s friend that you’ve seen a few times, ran into at the library or at coffee shops. he’s a film major, and always looks so unhappy about the whole thing, as if he didn’t choose it himself. you joke to Mina that you think he’ll graduate and become one of those directors that hate everything and yell at the actors constantly and later on get sued for being a dickhead. you never say it to him though—you’ve never spoken more than a couple words to the man.

it’s why it shocks you when he approaches you one day. it’s after one of your painting classes, and he stands outside the door with a frown and his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyebrows scrunched as if pissed at the mere sight of you. he asks you, in that low and gruff tone of his, if you could star in his final project for the semester. says it’s supposed to be a film made with this criteria and that, but, you’ve kind of checked out on the conversation after the first sentence.

“You mean, you want me to create something and that be the star of your film?” you ask him, feeling so intimidated at his stature. he always seems to loom, his hair shadowing the lights above, creates a cast over a portion of his face, makes his eyes look…unsettling. like they’re looking straight through your flesh, can find the marrow in your bones. he scoffs like you’ve offended him, rolling his eyes into his skull, mouth pulled tight.

“No.” his voice is firm, gaze concentrated only on you, like the halls are empty and you’re the focus of his lens. “I want you to star in it.”

his words confuse you—you’ve never presented yourself as an actor before, never alluded to wanting to be in the spotlight if not for what you create with your hands. but he shuffles on his feet, looks desperate even. there’s some hemming and hawing for a minute or so—why not choose Mina?—she’s busy—why choose me?—‘cause you’d be perfect for my short film—what’s it about?—you’ll find out once you get the script.

and even after you hesitantly agree and get the script—you still don’t understand what you’re doing. why you’re here, why you’re the only person, why it has to be a solo film, why there’s damn near zero lines in the entirety of the have-to-be forty five minute film.

the scenes are all so long, and maybe it’s because movies aren’t your forte or chosen major, but you just don’t get it. one scene; you’re staring at yourself in the mirror while Bakugou holds a small, black camera over your shoulder. he’s eerily quiet behind you, whispers out a faint fuckin’ go when you have to wash your face in the sink, makes you do it over because your movements are too jerky and unnatural.

the rest of the scenes go that way; you doing regular at home activities, being put under a lens, quietly barked at to do this and move that way and fix your hair and remember to frown.

“Isn’t there another way to film this?” you ask him on the fifth day of shooting in his spacious loft. there’s a bubble bath scene coming up, one you dont understand the importance of, but Bakugou tells you it’s the most necessary part of the entire thing.

“No,” he grunts out, looking at you from under his lashes as he sits on the lid of the toilet. “But I’ll make it soapy, so the camera won’t see much.” the camera? much? you weren’t worried so much about what the camera captured as you were the man behind it. he looks at you with such intensity, you feel naked already despite the robe you wear that’s suspiciously already your size.

he leaves the bathroom when you sink in the hot water, returns before you can say it’s okay, hears the water splashing and thinks that’s good enough. he kneels on the floor beside you, camera pointed directly in your face, makes your chest hot and your skin feel prickly. the scene passes on regularly enough; you run the water over your arms, tilt your head back as you sigh, whisper the few lines scripted, lean back and close your eyes, sigh again. it’s almost relaxing, makes you forget about the friend of a friend recording you naked right now. almost.

“Touch yourself.” Bakugou suddenly demands, hushed and quiet behind the camera. your eyes immediately shoot open, looking to him in question, how he’s eerily still in his spot hovering over you.

“Huh?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly, looking around the rounded lens in your face, trying to ignore the red blinking light. but Bakugou only frowns.

“It’s a masturbation scene. Touch yourself.” he repeats, voice louder, more demanding this time. your stomach twists at the thought of doing something so intimate in front of him. he’s a handsome guy, for sure, even made you consider asking him out after this, figured he was just serious about his work and awkward about certain things. but…something had been off about this entire thing since the start.

“But—but I don’t, I’m not,” you stutter, sitting up a little, the bubbles covering your chest starting to disperse with your movements. but Bakugou only sits a little higher on his knees, finally pulling the camera away from his face for the first time since he’s asked you to do this for him.

“You want me to fail?” he asks, booming voice eerily quiet in the silent bathroom, carmine eyes dull, shaded over with something terrible. “Then do it.” he tells you when you shake your head quickly.

you stare at him until he gets back into position again, camera back pointed at you. when he doesn’t say anything else, you swallow thickly, wondering if the art that will come out of this will be worth it. so you listen, sneak a hand under the water, start touching yourself in a way you never have in front of anyone.

is it bad to say that it’s exhilarating? being watched and recorded by someone who breathes so heavily every time your voice hiccups? being directed to touch your chest next when the suds start to disappear and your nipples start to peek through? is it bad that you want him to send you this portion of his film, only, just so you can watch yourself again and again? make a portrait of yourself with your fingers on your nipples and your knees raising from the water and your head thrown back from the intensity in oil pastels?

“That’s a wrap.” Bakugou announces when you finish, head spinning and still panting. you look over to him, how he closes the camera, the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’ll get you a towel.”

you wonder when’s the next time he’ll need you. or better yet—maybe he could be the star in your final drawing project? you had finished it already but, what was the harm in starting over with him as your muse? as naked as you are? camera not blocking his face so you can paint the similarities of his blushing cheeks and eyes when you direct him to look at you? to touch his chest? to play with himself just like that?

[rosyhoneydew]

Okay nobody has even hinted at this being a thing I don’t think but imagine how cute and fun a Halloween/Fall themed bucktommy week would be 😭

[osamusriceballs]

More than friends

Osamu Miya x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, dry humping, alcohol

Words: ~3.7 k

About: A night drinking with Atsumu and Osamu leads to an unexpected ending~

_______________________

“C’mn, just do it.“

“Shut it, Tsumu. I’m not gonna do it.“

You silently watch Atsumu laughing even louder than before and Osamu rolling his eyes with a huff. The three of you are seated comfortably in the spacious living room of the twins, a few empty bottles of beer between you, as well as a clear bottle of strong alcohol.

“You’re not doing the dare? Not even telling y/n what it was?“

“No, I’m not. Just keep quiet for once, will ya?“

Atsumu’s smug grin doesn’t falter for a second when he downs another shot and reluctantly gets on his feet. Osamu scoffs at his childish behavior and ignores his existence completely.

“I’m gonna go to bed. Got a practice scheduled early with Bokkun tomorrow. See ya.“

Atsumu waves in your direction and smacks Osamu’s shoulder before he abruptly leaves, his shoulders slightly swaying with each drunken step that he takes before you finally hear the door to his room closing. You doubt that he will make it to practice early tomorrow, and you take a mental note to send a text to Bokuto, warning him that he shouldn’t wait for the blonde setter.

However, right now you’re painfully aware of the situation that you now find yourself in. Your hand tightens around the bottle of beer that you’re holding, your gaze now flickering between the table and Osamu, quickly taking in his appearance. His hair is messy from the way he‘s been running through it ever since you three gathered to drink, his broad shoulders almost threaten to rip the tight black dress shirt that clings to his body, and his spread legs almost invite you to sit in between them. He doesn’t look at you either, his gaze absently focusing the wall behind you, and you feel the weird atmosphere like a heavy weight on your shoulders.

You clear your throat and try to overcome this moment of awkwardness, but it doesn’t seem to work.

Talking with Atsumu is easy. He’s always rambling about something, laughing, or talking about a certain Omi-omi that seems to annoy him very much.

Talking with Osamu on the other hand… He makes you nervous. He makes you blush, he makes your heart flutter, he makes you wonder about more.

“So… what’s the big deal? Why wouldn’t you do the dare?“

He groans and his eyes focus on you again. There is something about his gaze that never fails to send a shiver down your spine. He often has sleepy and heavy-lidded eyes, but when he directly looks at you and puts all of his focus on you- that‘s when your heart always stops a beat. This man will surely be the death of yours.

“You don’t wanna know. Trust me.“

“C’mon, don’t be a party popper. It can’t be that bad if it’s Atsumu’s idea.“

“You’re wrong. It is that bad because it's Atsumu’s idea.“

His lips curl into a smile and he looks down to your empty shot glass, clearly trying to change the subject, which only intrigues you more about it. “You want another?“

“Sure. Tell me about the dare first though.“ You grin and hand him the small shot glass, and he groans again, his head falling back in playful annoyance before he takes the glass out of your hand and starts pouring the clear liquid into it and then into his own.

“I just wanna make clear that it was Atsumu’s idea. He wanted me to kiss you. Told ya, it was stupid.“

The way he doesn’t even hesitate to say it, his voice not even trembling nor is his gaze nervously flickering. He nonchalantly states this without giving it a second thought- and it feels like he just punched you.

“Oh. Okay.“ You force a laugh out of your mouth, a laugh that sounds forced and fake and cringe, even to your ears.

You’re absolutely sure that kissing Osamu would be great. However, not that you would ever get the chance to try. He rolls his eyes and simply hands you the full shot glass, his hand not touching yours for even a single second, like you’d burn him through physical contact.

“Don’t think about it please.“

“Okay.“ You take the full shot glass out of his hand and down it without a second thought. He does the same with his shot, and you admire his side profile for a brief second before your gaze starts to roam through the room again.

It’s silent.

Very much silent.

Your own breathing sounds too loud in the quiet room and you nervously grab your beer once again and take a few sips, but Osamu doesn’t move. You can’t look at him though, your gaze now trained to your own hands. You feel somehow rejected, even though you didn’t say anything. Did the mere thought of him kissing you seem so absurd to him? Sure, you both never really showed that kind of interest in particular, but you thought some of your conversations resembled some kind of flirting, and the way he always looked at you never failed to send butterflies to your stomach. Seems like these feelings were completely one-sided though.

A few more moments of silents later that are barely manageable and you decide to call it a day.

“I’m gonna go too. It’s getting pretty late. See ya.“

You force a smile on your face, a smile that you hope looks neutral and not like you’re trying to get the hell out of the apartment, but you’re caught off-guard when he blinks in an irritated way.

“Already? You know you can stay as long as you want. You can sleep on the couch if ya want to.“ He nods towards the luxurious couch in the living room, the one that feels like heaven whenever you slept on it, but now you just want to escape out of the suffocating atmosphere. Every second in his presence just makes the situation more tense.

“No, it’s fine. Really.“ You abruptly get on your feet and quickly take some of the empty glasses and bottles in your hands, not wanting to leave him to clean up the whole mess you three created.

„It’s fine, y/n. I can clean up later.“ Osamu’s voice behind your back is accompanied with the sound of rustling glasses and bottles, and you know that he probably took the remaining dishes with him.

“I can’t leave you with such a mess. I’m sure Atsumu will be too hungover to help you tomorrow, so I don’t mind giving you a hand right now.“ You quickly place the last few dirty glasses in the sink and hurry towards the front door.

You’re sure that Osamu can quickly get rid of the remaining mess, so you basically run towards the front door before he can confront you about your strange behavior.

“Y/n!“

“Hmm?“ You just managed to pull on your coat and turn around- only to find Osamu right in front of you. You take a step back in surprise, but he follows you, one big stride and your back is pressed against the front door, and Osamu is towering in front of you. Your bodies are not touching, there is still some space between the two of you, yet, his sudden approaching sends even more heat to your cheeks, that have probably been burning red ever since you started to drink.

“Ya don’t have to rush.“

His dialect is thick now, his voice somewhat quiet. His eyes are focused on yours, and you forget to breathe for a second- when he looks at you as intently as he does, studying every single of your reactions, and it feels like he casts a spell on you that makes your heart beat faster. He looks so insanely handsome in the dimmed light, his disheveled hair falling into his face, the black strands healthy and smooth after he had stopped dyeing his hair a few years ago. It makes you want to touch them, to brush the hair out of his face to see his eyes better, to bury your hands into his hair, to grab his broad shoulders and press your chest against his-

“I’m not rushing. It’s just late, you know.“ You force another polite smile on your face, a smile that doesn't feel convincing at all judging from his reaction.

“Okay.“ He hesitantly nods after studying your face for another second and takes a small step back, just enough for you to be able to open the door. When you take a step towards his direction though, he suddenly grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him, with enough force to have you stumbling the single step, but his free arm quickly wraps around your hip and keeps you from falling.

You’re too shocked to say something, you probably look like a fish out of the water with your mouth wide open and your widened eyes, yet he doesn’t release you nor lets go of you. You’re painfully aware of the small distance between the two of you- or rather: the non-existent distance, and you feel your heart racing in your chest with your body pressed against his. His hand around your wrist is warm, his grip tight, yet gentle- but your brain just fails completely at understanding what’s going on.

He leans down and suddenly releases your wrist to cup your chin, tilting your face until your eyes directly meet- and that’s when you forget how to breathe. Your body feels stiff and hot while you’re being pressed against him, and you subconsciously bring your hands to his chest to create some distance between the two of you, but he doesn’t even budge the slightest bit.

“Are ya upset? That I didn’t kiss ya?”

“What- what are you talking about?” You wiggle in his grip, but he doesn’t falter for a second. He brings his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips when he’s talking again, his voice deeper this time, more attractive.

“What would you have done if I kissed ya? Tell me, y/n.” You pause with your movements, staying completely frozen and unable to move.

“I- I don’t know.” Your breath come shallow, you feel like there is not enough oxygen coming to your brain and leaving you in a hazy and hot state- and it’s hot, oh, so hot, the way his gaze flickers to your lips and then to your eyes again.

“Wanna find out then?”

Your fingers curl into his shirt, but you’re not pushing him away. You can barely focus when he comes even closer, so close that his lips are slightly touching yours, and you involuntarily close your eyes and lean forward, just a little bit to close the distance between the two of you.

His hand on your hip freezes for a second, now it’s his body that seems surprisingly stiff, now that you simply decided to kiss Osamu Miya- but he quickly regains composure and initiates a deeper kiss- still soft and delicate, his hand gingerly cupping your cheek and tilting your face to kiss you in a deeper angle. Your lips move against his, the addicting feeling of him kissing you so tenderly slowly creating a feeling of hunger in your body. Your heart rate goes through the roof for sure, but you don’t care. Not when he’s kissing you like that, when he is holding you like you would break if he just applied too much pressure. “Samu-“ you gasp when he pulls back to let you both breathe, his forehead resting against yours, and his hand now moving to your lower back to hold you steady.

“Y/n,” he whispers against your lips and takes a deep breath. You’re barely able to comprehend what’s going on, and you feel your body trembling in his hold, yet you still don’t move back.

Osamu Miya just kissed you, and it was great. So great that you want more kisses- more of him, that you’re growing greedy for more.

“Would you have kissed me back in front of Tsumu?”

“Can we please not talk about your twin brother now?” You huff at his words, not believing that he has the nerve to talk about that when you’re still in his arms, growing hotter every second- probably also due to the thick winter coat you’re still wearing.

“I need to take off the coat, Samu. Or leave- what do you want me to do now?”

You look directly in his eyes while you say the words, knowing fully well that your words carry a second meaning. Does he want you to stay? Did the kiss mean something to him? Or did he just want to proof something to himself?

“I’m fine with whatever you decide. You can leave, or you can stay. You can sleep on the couch, or sleep with me. I’m following your pace, y/n.”

“I-“ you’re caught off-guard at his words, barely able to realize that he let go of you and just stands there without touching you, patiently waiting for your answer.

“I want to stay.”

“Okay.” He nods with a small smile, quickly stepping closer and helping you out of the coat like a true gentleman.

“Thanks.” You smile back, excitement but also nervousness making you shiver, but Osamu is quickly by your side again after putting away your coat and takes your hand to lead you to the living room.

“Where do ya wanna sleep? I can get the couch ready in a minute if ya want to.”

“I… I want to sleep with you.” You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, and you hope that you don’t look too flustered while you’re avoiding his gaze, but he squeezes your hand reassuringly and thankfully refrains from replying with a mocking comment.

“Your pace. Tell me when yer uncomfortable. I can always go and sleep on the couch.”

His words are reassuring, and that's what you admire about him. Osamu will always care about your feelings first- that’s just the way he is.

The way to his room is short, it only takes you both a few steps, but his hand holds yours softly until you reach his room.

“Here, I got a shirt for ya.” He hands you a dark, clean shirt from his drawer and nods towards the bathroom, signaling you that you can change there.

“Thank you.”

You quickly come back with his shirt on, a quite comfortable one thankfully, and decide that you will sleep with no pants- not daring to remove them already though. Osamu is already ready to sleep, sitting shirtless on the bed with the blanket covering his lower half, that you assume is only clothed in a pair of boxers. You probably shouldn‘t stare too much, but you can‘t stop your eyes from flickering down to his broad chest and to his strong arms, but he doesn’t seem to mind you eyeing him up.

He raises a brow though and smiles after scanning your figure for a few seconds, and his gaze heats up your cheeks once again. He suddenly nods and flicks a switch next to his bed, and the room immediately darkens. You can barely see his silhouette when you finally sit on the bed after quickly removing your pants.

“I’m just gonna lay here?” You ask, now slightly regretting not being able to see his face. An agreeing hum leaves him, and you quickly slip under the covers next to Osamu. You don‘t dare to move though, your body awkwardly laying on the edge of the bed.

It’s silent for a few moments, and you internally debate whether he has already fallen asleep, or if he’s laying just as stiff as you. His breathing pattern sounds relaxed, but you can’t help but to wish that you were closer to him. Would he mind if you just slipped a little closer?

You carefully inch your body closer to his, trying to cause as few movement and sounds on the bed as possible, but when you accidentally touch his bare arm, you can hear his breath stock. His hand suddenly comes up and grabs your upper arms and before you know what’s happening, you find yourself under him.

“Samu-“ you gasp, but your gasp gets interrupted when you feel his lips against yours. Not in the same way as before- there is nothing soft about it. It’s hungry and needy, his tongue flicking against your lip to urge you to open your mouth for him- which you gladly do with a low moan.

It just feels right. To lay in Osamu’s arms, to have his lips on yours, to feel his bodyweight on top of you- it all feels so intimate and good-

“I like ya. A lot.” He suddenly rasps between your kisses, his voice now thick and clouded with lust, and he kisses you again, deeper with more fever. You deepen the kiss as response, your hands slipping under his shirt and roam to his wide shoulders, feeling his bare skin, feeling how the muscles tense under your touch. You slightly scratch him with your nails- not enough to hurt him, but enough to leave a mark.

“Fuck, yer drivin’ me crazy.” He pulls back and groans against your neck at the sensation of your nails against his back, his hips suddenly bucking into yours, and you arch your back at the feeling of his hardened cock against your clothed pussy.

“Shit, Samu- do that again-“ you gasp, your head thrown back, and you moan his name again when he grinds against you a little harder, the friction sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Your legs wrap around his body, spreading you even more for him, and you’re pretty sure that he will be able to feel how wet you are for him even through both of your underwear, yet it only spurs him on further and he props himself up on his elbows and thrusts his hips in a slow rhythm.

“Feels really good, Samu,” you let one of your hands wander to his chest, feeling his muscles tense with every thrust he’s doing, feeling his heartbeat that is just as fast as yours.

“Imagine how good it would feel without clothes. When I- fuck- when I fuck you as hard and long as you want. Make ya nice and wet for me, make ya cum on my tongue, my fingers- and then- thenI would fuck ya with my cock.” You feel your cunt pulsing with every single of his words- fuck- why is Osamu Miya so good at dirty talk? Who would have thought that the ever so calm and collected Osamu would have such a dirty mouth?

“Please, Samu- want to feel you, want you to fuck me.” You whine, desperately rubbing yourself against him, and you hear him curse, you feel him throb in his boxers, but he just goes harder- not faster but harder, as if he wants to force the orgasm out of you by sheer friction against your sensitive clit.

“C’mon, y/n. Be a good girl and show me what ya look like when yer cummin’. Want ya to cum for me now, pretty girl-“ his lips are attached to your neck now, greedily sucking and biting the skin, leaving a few marks for sure- but you don’t care. Not when he’s got you so close to cumming, not when you feel like you could burst any second.

And you do.

A few more thrusts later, and you feel yourself cumming, the friction against your clothed clit enough to send you to heaven, and you grab his shoulders while you scream his name. Your body arches up, your muscles deliciously tensing and contracting, the heat now almost consuming you. So much that you barely realize that he kept on groaning your name and whispers of praises, of how pretty you look when you cum for him, how you’re such a good girl for him, how he wants you to keep cumming just for him- and you do.

You don’t know how much time has passed, when you suddenly realize that he’s cumming too- that his body tenses and he suddenly grabs your shoulders with his body weight almost crushing you, but you don’t mind it. You feel his cock twitching against your core, and a wet sensation and you swear he makes the hottest sounds you have ever heard when he’s groaning your name and moans against your skin.

Both of your chests are heaving heavily, and you barely realize that he rolls to his side and presses you against his chest to avoid crushing you completely. Not that you would have minded that. You wrap your shaky legs around him and push him closer, not caring about the fact that you’re both covered in sweat. His hands rest on your back, his right one rubbing circles on your back and softly caresses your skin under the shirt you’re still wearing, and you contently hum against his chest.

He easily manages to make you feel comfortable and worshiped, to show his affection to you with his little gestures.

“Ya wanna eat somethin’? I have your favorite onigiri in the fridge. Or do ya wanna take a shower? Or a bath?” His chest vibrates against your cheek while he’s talking, and you feel your heart swell with affection at his caring words.

“I’m too worn out for anything. How about breakfast in bed tomorrow and then a bath together?”

He presses a kiss to your temple, and you can basically feel his smile when he answers. “Sounds like a good plan. We also need to talk about “us“ when we get up.”

Your breath stocks for a second at his words, a sudden panic suddenly growing in your chest.

“So… that means there is a “us“ now?”

“I came in my underwear from dry humping ya. In case ya can’t tell, that makes us more than just friends.” You can’t see his face but you know that he’s rolling his eyes while he reassuringly rubs your back and still refuses to let you go.

“More than friends, hum?” You muse, while he keeps on rubbing circles on your back, and you know that he won't let you go tonight- or ever.

“Sounds good.”

[simplyghosting]

I’ll be honest, for as many years at I’ve seen October art/writing challenges (and art challenges the rest of the weeks/months of the year), I’ve only attempted a few and never finished any.

That being said, I think what I’m going to do for my umpteenth attempt this new October is to just.. do. Just do something every day. Any challenge, any prompt, any event, even if it’s mixed and mismatched. Doesn’t matter if it’s finished, though I will try for it. A few well-typed sentences, a sketched drawing, an unfinished study, I’ll still label them a success. I want my goal for this month to be to make improvements in my art and passions and to make an effort. Not bogged down by perfectionism or despair or lack of motivation or whatever else may stop me. I want to make the challenge of this month for me to live my life thoughtfully and love and respect what I bring into it again.

[valeovalairs]

People follow me for my fanart only for me to then remove my clown mask and reveal my second clown mask beneath it that says fic writer on it.

[doubleappled]

The thing with the names

… is under the cut bc of s3 spoilers…

We’ve noticed how NYC chef calls Carmy “Bergazzo,” right, and how Shapiro then calls Luca “Lucas”? We see this?

And then we see Chef Terry at the end asking Carmy to call her by her first name the next time they’re together?

That’s something.

[anothermansjeans]

here is a little sneak peek for the untitled scream inspired fic (part 2) i have been working on 🫶 (she’s a long one)

++

“If you don’t stop, you’ll be late.” There was laughter in Y/N’s voice as she rolled Spencer off of her.

“And you won’t be late?” He got up and started to button up a white shirt while staring at Y/N in his bed, her hair sprawled messily on the pillows beneath her. He has never felt so lucky.

“No, Dr. Smartass. My first class today isn’t until three.” She leaned up on her elbow and grabbed a fist-full of his shirt, pulling him down so that their lips barely touched. “Plus, I’m just going to have them watch and analyze a movie today… not really in the mood for discussion.”

“Really?” He smirked as she brought them even closer together.

“Really, really,” pressing their lips together, she pulled him on top of her again, only coming up for air and for Spencer to speak.

“I thought I was going to be late?”

Looking over at the clock, Y/N pursed her lips to the side and looked back at him, “five minutes?”

“Two.”

“Two and a half?” She bargained, earning an eye roll from Spencer.

“Fine. Two and a half. But that’s it.”

She let out a chuckle and he brought his lips back down, meeting her in a passionate kiss before they were rudely interrupted by her cell phone ringing.

Y/N groaned and picked up her phone, not looking before answering. “Hello?”

“Hello, Y/N. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

An annoyed expression crossed her face, causing Spencer to sit up mouthing ‘are you okay?’.

“Who is this?”

“Who do you think this is?” the voice from Scream asked back.

She removed her phone from her ear, looking at the caller ID before scoffing, “Well I think you’re someone who was too dense to use star 67, so I’ll take a wild guess and go with Riley Reynolds, who also happens to be in my 3pm lecture on Wednesdays!”

“Dammit!”

“See you later, Riley.” And with that, she hung up the phone, letting out a sigh while closing her eyes and throwing her hands onto the bed by her head.

“Another call?”

She opened her eyes and softened her expression at the concerned look spread across Spencer’s face. “Yeah…”

“We can get it changed again. Penelope can get it done in a maximum of ten minutes— I’m sure she could do it in five if we tell her now—”

“Spencer,” she put her hands on both sides of his neck, thumbs rubbing across his jaw as her eyes zoned out, thinking back to the night Danny and Joey tried to kill them. “It’s fine. It’s only because of the new Scream movie that came out. I’m an easy target to fuck with.”

Spencer let out a sigh, “I just don’t want you to be scared all of the time.”

“I won’t be,” she said, pushing him up so he could finish getting ready, “I happen to have my very strong, and very sexy FBI boyfriend. I heard he kicks ass.”

“Well, I’ve heard I kick like a girl…”

“Hey!” Standing up, Y/N finished buttoning Spencer’s shirt for him, reaching over to the armchair in the corner to hand him his pants, “I’m healthy, I’m happy, and I’m safe. I wouldn’t have moved here after everything if I didn’t feel that way, and that’s all that matters, right?”

Spencer looks at the determination in her eyes and nods, “you’re right. I just get scared sometimes. People are crazy and no one knows what might happen.”

She had waited until he was finally dressed to wrap her arms around his waist, feeling him sink into her embrace. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Kissing the top of her head, he hummed in response, “I could say the same about you.”

[foxesfantasys]

New Double Trouble fic! Woo!

Summary:

In which Fenton and Phantom have an important talk about the future.

“Yes, we were. And now we are us again.” Phantom replies simply, letting his gaze move more pointedly to the toy in his hands.

He shouldn’t avoid something like this. It’s important, for both of them. But he knows what the next question will be.

And that’s exactly why he’s avoiding it.

[totaled-drama]

I have so many thoughts about this season

[banana-pancake5]

Thinking abt an amv I reallyreallyreallyreallyreally wanna make for s2 of letter from my future self but then also realizing I couldn’t post it without completely ruining the whole mystery of s2 uhcdebhjsdbdjwhcbxhjds d jhbwdcuhdbeuhcbdeuhcbwdihcdwbjhdcwbhicdw

[sunnimint]

There’s no new chapter of Shattering Stars this week, but have this sneak peek!

[ponder-the-orb]

Me: “okay let’s take a little break from writing before we start the chaptered fic”

Brain: Gale with gifted kid burnout syndrome

Me (opening laptop): “… fine”

[thatgirlonstage]

Thinking through the logical conclusions of lore that the source material has clearly not thought that deeply about can be annoying or depressing in the sense of seeing exactly how deep the plot holes go but so long as it doesn’t inherently break the suspension of disbelief or ruin your enjoyment of the overall story it can be really fun to figure out what you can use to plug the holes. Like that’s just free real estate now baby. If the lore implies X but the story wound up at Z, then you can make the journey through Y be whatever you want it to be

[crimson--freak]

I wish we all could discuss how amatonormative fandom spaces can be without claiming that shipping canonically aspec characters is akin to “erasing” their canon identities. Because as someone who is both aro and greatly supports the idea of “ship and let ship”, holy shit is it sometimes uncomfortable to go into the aromantic tag when people don’t realise the difference between fanon/headcanons and canon.

Newsflash: someone shipping an aspec character doesn’t mean that they don’t respect their canonical identity, and headcanons aren’t static things that the holder thinks is automatically better than canon!

[tariah23]

The live action commercial celebrating the release of JJK VOL 27. Is so 😭!!!