#and that was before they showed trust right there on the menu LOL

[patolemus]

Sterek fic recs: High School AU Edition

In honor of my conversation with @darling-winnie about same age!Sterek, as well as my promise to @oldefashioned, here are some high school au recs!

1. Double Cherries (And 'Extra' Hoodies) by undercoverbastard

“No, no - wait - don’t tell me,” Stiles suddenly said, leaning forward and grinning at the boy directly on his right, eyes gleaming with joy and mischief as he spoke. “You want… a salmon burger, swiss, with fruit, and a vanilla shake. Eh?”

Derek scowled, shoving his menu at Stiles as he slumped back. “No,” he said plainly. Stiles pouted.

“Too bad! That’s what I’m penning you in for, Eyebrows,” Stiles said, scribbling on his notepad as he stood and began to walk away. Derek huffed, opening his mouth to give Stiles his actual order, but the only word he got out was ‘I’ before Stiles waved him off without even looking back at Derek or down at the notepad, stride unbroken, as he recited:

“Double cheeseburger, half swiss, half cheddar, no pickles, curly fries, side honey mustard, strawberry milkshake, extra thick, double cherries.”

+.+.+

OR: alive hale family, alive claudia, and high school friends stiles/derek - all wrapped into one, based on a joke from a TV show i watched when i was 7, and then got wildly out of control!

Notes: adorable, I love their banter and the conection they have. Alive!Hale family is always such a treasure, and Claudia and Talia's friendship is great here. It's completed.

2. i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me) by bleepobleep

Derek gets in an accident and loses a few years of his memory; suddenly everything is different— he's not a freshman loser anymore, but a popular senior, captain of the basketball team, a shoo-in for prom king, too, and he should have everything he's ever wanted— except he doesn't seem to be friends with Stiles anymore.

Notes: Derek is not having a good time. Pookie just wants to be with his best friend but it turns out they're not best friends anymore and the world doesn't make sense because of it. A little angsty but it all works out. It's completed.

3. Don't Kiss and Tell by Hedwig221b

Paige has finally got the boyfriend she always wanted. The only thing is, said boyfriend doesn't touch her, doesn't kiss her and spends all his time with Stiles Stilinski. You'd think they were dating, or something...

Notes: When I tell you I go feral for this au every single time I read it! Hedwig has the best unhinged obsessive sterek fics and I'll swear on that, don't even try to change my mind. Poor Paige is definitely being led on here, and both Derek and Stiles are assholes in this one, but they're in love and they're completely devoted to each other, so it's okay (I know it doesn't make sense now, but it will. Trust). It's completed.

4. But Then What... by Stoney

Senior year is almost over, and all Stiles needs to do is keep his head down to survive. A teacher calls in a favor, leaving him stuck tutoring Derek Hale, one of the most popular jocks in school and a member of a group of douchecanoes who have bullied Stiles for years. He's someone Stiles totally hates. Totally. Like, doesn't like him even a little bit. DEFINITELY isn't attracted to him.

Except that is a total lie. Fuck his life, seriously.

Notes: Typical Jock/Nerd enemies to lovers only it's Stiles being incredibly paranoid and angsty all of the time lol. They both had me shaking my head because my babies truly don't know how to communicate, but we got there! Eventually. It's completed.

5. Just The Same by foxlavander

Something is seriously up with the captain of the lacrosse team. There's just no way Derek Hale is human. *** “I was wondering if you're even human. You move so quickly. I mean, it's ridiculously fast. No human should be able to move that fast, y'know? It's unfair for us. I mean, it's obvious you work out, and I don't, so that could be why, but like...I was just wondering if you were human, that's all.” “Stop talking, Stilinski, or I'll—” “Put me on the bench all season?” Stiles asks knowing full well that Derek Hale can't threaten him with shit.

Notes: This one is so good. Stiles is onto you, Derek! But seriously, they're so awesome in this one. And Derek bakes and he wants to open up a bakery and it's adorable. I love them and I love the Hales, everything is great. Look out for the werewolf reveal! It's completed.

6. The In Which Stiles Is Secretly Magic series by apocryphal

All Stiles wants from life is to learn to control his magic, keep his grades up, and not die horribly while saving Beacon Hills from supernatural threats. It's all going pretty well until Derek Hale, werewolf extraordinaire, has to go and ask him on a date. That asshole.

Notes: The lore for magic users in here is honestly so good. Love the world building! The Hales are alive in this one as well, which for me is always a plus. A little bit (maybe more than a little bit) angsty but it ends well. There's a few things going on, but basically Stiles is basically Deaton's apprentice and there are Rules(TM) he has to follow as a magic user. He's pretty badass though! The series is technically not finished, but both parts in the series are completed.

7. cheer up, babe by graveltotempo

He was the basketball captain. And he was a cheerleader. Can I make it any more clear? OR: Derek Hale thought he had his crush on Stiles Stilinski under control. And then Stiles decided to show up to school in a skirt.

Notes: Derek spends all 20k words thirsting over Stiles, as he should. Stiles gets to wear a skirt and be generally awesome. They are disgustingly sweet together.

8. Made Your Mark on Me (A Golden Tattoo) by writteninthewolfstar

Beacon Hills High and Lycan Heights High are well-known enemies. Derek Hale, Lycan Heights' star quarter-back, is well-known for being aggressive and arrogant. Imagine Stiles surprise when he discovers that Derek Hale is actually his soul-mate.

Notes: This one is very sweet. There's insecure Stiles and absolutely lovely Derek. It's abo with Omega!Stiles and Alpha!Derek, and it's actually pretty wholesome. Derek is like public enemy number one of BHHS and a jock, Stiles is a loner, and when they turn out to be soulmates they have to navigate what that means for it. It has 13 out of 14 chapters, last updated in March of 2024.

9. too busy being yours to fall for somebody else by whiry

Stiles, worried that Scott may actually leave him behind because of his newfound popularity, is desperate to cling to something away from the drama of Lydia Martin's amazing parties and the woes of high school lacrosse. What he finds is Derek Hale, a guy who seemingly hates Stiles at first, but slowly, and insistently, becomes friends with him. As their friendship grows, Stiles starts to wonder if they could ever become something more or if pushing what they have will lead him to being alone for good.

Notes: Also very sweet! It's strangers to friends to lovers, and Stiles falls out of love with Lydia without even realizing because he's fallen in love with Derek. The Hales are alive in this one, yay! The way sterek bonds over music is also so good! It's completed.

10. Stupid Over You by Wolfspurr

It's a Friday night, and instead of enjoying any of the numerous things he'd rather be doing, Stiles has been roped into dinner with his dad at the Hale's. On the plus side, Derek Hale will be there. On the minus side, Derek Hale will be there, and Stiles already has a hard enough time not making an ass of himself in front of the hottest guy in school. There's no way this can end well.

Notes: Overall amazing fic! Stiles is his oblivious awkward self that we all know and love, Derek is completely smitten with him. All this wrapped up in a dinner with the Hales and the Stilinskis. That's it, that's the fic. It's completed.

11. Six Minutes by CosmoKid

“What do you want?” Derek practically grows when Stiles is near enough to hear. He can definitely feel the werewolf vibes coming from the guy as well as the fuck off vibes that roll off him in tsunami-sized waves. Stiles has one thing he needs to say to Derek, but he also has eight million questions to ask him about the werewolf thing and he can barely sort out his thoughts as it is, let alone when there’s a ridiculously attractive werewolf who’s basically Adonis staring at him. Derek takes another drag of his cigarette and raises his eyebrows at Stiles expectantly. He shivers and blurts out, “Six minutes.” That makes Derek smirk, but it’s so condescending that even Harris would be impressed. “No offense, Kitten,” Derek starts and Stiles just narrows his eyes at the nickname. Derek keeps his eyes trained on Stiles as if to dare him to challenge the nickname. Stiles bites his tongue and resists it. “But you’re not really my type.”

Notes: This is not your typical high school au, but it's a nice change of pace. It's got werewolves, which we love, and bad boy Derek. Stiles stood no chances lol. It's completed.

12. The covalent bonds series by HaldFizzbin

Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that's ever happened to him.

Notes: I went on a little Nerd!Derek and Jock!Stiles fixation the other day so here we have it. Derek is awkward and funny and insecure and we love him. Stiles is Stiles, and he's awesome. The series is not finished, but all the parts of the series are complete.

13. It's Always Been You, Dumbass by stilinskisparkles

“Alright, cool, we should go,” Stiles says breezily, dusting off his hands as he stands. “We should?” “Yeah!” “But… Do you even care about photography?” “Not as much as I should,” Stiles plants both his hands on the table, bracketing Derek in, “You’ll have to correct my miscreant ways.”

Notes: Stiles is helplessly pining, Derek is painfully oblivious and the absolute last to find out. Somehow, they still go on like three dates together. It's pretty great, and it's completed.

14. can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time? by whirl

There's something strange about Beacon Hills. Stiles can't really put his finger on it, but the way certain classmates look at him at school and the way certain adults look at him in the grocery store has him curious. And it's not the sort of pitying looks that his mom's coworkers used to give him, but these ones are longer, more searching, like they're looking for something. Not to mention the weird noises that sometimes come from the woods when he runs, too human to be animal and too animal to be human. Plus the way the Hales have seemed to sequester themselves to the wild and give Stiles serious Cullen family vibes. But Stiles, like everyone else apparently, ignores it. Until it becomes too great to ignore and he has to investigate for himself and find out what is actually going on in Beacon Hills. +++ Or, the one where Stiles and Derek meet, hate each other, slowly get to know one another, and fall totally head over heels for each other all while avoiding curious classmates, an angry ex-girlfriend, and, oh yeah, imminent death.

Notes: This one is kinda crazy but in a good way! It's 120k words long so be prepared for that, and Stiles finds out about werewolves. Derek, pookie, I'm rooting for you all the way! Also Cora, my beloved. I adore her. Stiles is pretty confused all the time for a while there. It's completed.

15. scary stories and roasted goods by graveltotempo

“I have more, you know?” grumbled Jackson, clearing his throat. “Okay, fine. Here’s another; a man goes is staying at a hotel for the weekend. On his way to his room, he notices a door with no number on it-” “An albino woman with white skin and red eyes committed suicide in that room years ago,” finished Erica, inspecting her nails with a smirk. “We know that too.” “A babysitter goes to put two children to sleep in their room and notices a large creepy clown statue in the corner-” he tried again. “Get out of the house, we don’t have a clown statue,” said Allison, tried to hide a laugh at the flustered expression on Jackson’s face. “Two roommates in a room. Sarah says that she wants to go to a party and Mary wants to stay home-” “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn the lights on?” said Derek, and Stiles laughed, looking at him with sparkling eyes. OR the cheerleading squad, the lacrosse team and the basketball team go camping.

Notes: Another cheerleader!Stiles and Jock!Derek. I love them your honor. It's all very sweet and Derek pines as he ought to do lol. Don't worry, there's light at the end of the tunnel. It's completed.

That's all I have for this one. I probably have more in my TBR but I guess we'll find out. If I ever get there. My sterek TBR only ever grows and I never seem to be able to finish fics as fast as I find them lol. Hope you guys like these!

[lesbiancolumbo]

Okay I'm really glad you said it bc I just watched the premiere and did not care for it but could not for the life of me pinpoint exactly why. There's a lot of aspects to the show I enjoy but as a collective whole it's always left me cold and it bugs the crap out of me trying to parse out why it's not landing for me. (But to your point, sometimes things just aren't for us, I guess!)

okay, you asked for it.

i think for me, it's that the first season offers a promise of something that it seems to have no interest, actually, in delivering on. back when it was still a first season independently made show that no one had any idea if people would give a shit about, it seemed (to ME at least) to be about this band of people in the wake of profound loss and the trauma that came from that loss coming together and building something beautiful together, becoming a family. and then the show blew up, got a bunch of money and attention and prestige, and season two turned into "cool look at all the things we can do! see! we're filming in copenhagen for no reason! we have an episode with like seven extremely famous people in it! we're showing off all these famous restaurants! take us seriously!" while severely sidelining characters that i fell in love with in season one, and for what? we spend so little time with these characters actually building the beautiful thing we left the last season hoping for. instead we get these one-off episodes with characters, which are... fine, i guess? fun. but it feels like showing off a blank check versus actually BUILDING on what season one sets up.

honestly, i'm really disappointed that the show's narrative keeps trying to push this restaurant into highbrow fine dining spaces, when for me the most magical parts of season one was when they were just fucking cooking food for people -- NORMAL PEOPLE -- and the people were loving it. the bear wants to critique the world of fine dining, but it's way too fucking in love with fine dining to actually do this in any meaningful way, because it's still fucking aping those aesthetics and putting chefs like daniel boulud in the show just to say it can. hey look, it's eleven madison park! hey look, this is the french laundry! hey look, this is noma! like. i fucking GET IT, chris.

what bothered me most about the premiere was the moment joel's fine dining chef says to carmy "you know that from now on, this will be my dish right?" in an antagonizing moment -- this is ripped off DIRECTLY from an episode of chef's table (it's ironic that the bear is ripping off this show now considering the menu did just that a few years back and i dinged them for that too lol) where grant achatz explains that his sous chefs test their creativity while working under him, he encourages them and trusts them and coaxes their talent out of them, and it's ironic because at the end of the day.... it becomes one of HIS signature dishes, and he would always ask them this for permission before going ahead. the bear doesn't understand that this question isn't meant to be an antagonizing thing that underlies the exploitation of fine dining spaces. these things run rampant there, yes, but when grant said that quote, it was a sign of how much he trusts and works hard for his team, and they give him the same in return. that the bear bastardizes this moment really pissed me the fuck off -- this show wants to romanticize and simultaneously critique fine dining, but this moment and so many others like it leave me wondering if it even actually understands fine dining at all, actually.

[uyuforu]

hi, hru? i’m here to join your FS exchange game! i’ll be doing tarot + a moodboard for you 💕

how will your fs pursue you? 

you’re fs is going to face a lot of challenges before they’re able to pursue you. i see them dealing with a lot of adversities in their life/work which sets them farther back than they’d like! some of these challenges stem from their own self like impatience. they really want to talk to you but it feels like a new face blocks their view every time 😪. your spouse is represented with the queen of pentacles. they are very hardworking and nurturing. i was getting wealthy vibes from the jump, as well! it seems like their work makes them incredibly busy, which in turn, makes cultivating relationships even harder. with you however, i see them giving their all. they do NOT want to lose you. so sweet. 

for exactly how they’ll pursue you, you know those memes on twitter that are like: “if my man ain’t obsessed with me, i don’t want him”? your fs is going to be OBSESSED with you. they literally worship the ground you walk on. they’ll overspend a lot on you, too. this person will think about you and the little things you like all the time. definitely the gentleman! they will make sure you guys build enough trust before making your relationship exclusive. they really care about comfort and making sure you’re okay. i see them wanting to marry you right away in fact. if not marriage, then definitely something long term. they’re going to go HARD to make sure that they have you. i feel like this is somebody who will show up for you again and again. they want you no matter the lifetime! 

your relationship moodboard: 

i hope you liked your reading ! you rly won girl 😭. my juno (1st) and groom (2nd) charts are below. thank you again for doing this exchange game. i hope you have a lovely day 💗

Thank you for participating in the game!! Also sorry for being late but here if your reading :) ugh girl, that reading was on point, tho you see more of the current situation + future, I do have a lot of indicators of marrying someone wealthy who has a lot of money (my Jupiter & Saturn 7h ain't lying lol). So ur reading was so on point!! Thank you again, and I hope you will like yours!

FS Game Exchange Reading (closed.)

JUNE BOOKING OPEN

email adress: tarotjunoboda@gmail.com

Soft To You presentation and Q&A ᡣ𐭩 rules ᡣ𐭩 private readings reviews

astrology menu ᡣ𐭩 tarot menu ᡣ𐭩 special astrology & tarot readings

𝜗𝜚 Could meet FS in the most random way possible, it could be in a hot country, hot weather, summertime, somewhere with a lot of people, crowded places, places the energy is very strong. Destined meeting, and could be also love at first sight, or crush at first sight for you. Totally meeting out of the blue in my opinion.

𝜗𝜚 FS could have Capricorn/ 10H/ Sagittarius/ 9H/ Virgo/ 6H/ Aries/ 1H/ Cancer/ 4H/ Libra/ 7H.

𝜗𝜚 FS could be a foreigner or living in a different country. They def live abroad from their family at least.

𝜗𝜚 FS could be close to their mother but have a hard time with their father. There is a feminine figure they love in their family, they could like their family but a masculine figure, and an older one, with which it can be complicated. FS could also live far from family. FS could want children too later.

𝜗𝜚 FS could look pretty masculine, could have muscles. Yet they can also look very soft and nice. They can look older than what they are, or just mature.

𝜗𝜚 FS can be good at manifesting and they can have an insane intuition.

𝜗𝜚 FS will have a good career, they have high chances to reach the top of it and become a CEO.

𝜗𝜚 FS will marry (of course) but also want to marry. This is something they want to achieve.

𝜗𝜚 FS could be very calm and collected, FS is also responsible and mature. They are serious and do things well. They can also be very serious when it comes to health and work.

𝜗𝜚 FS have high chances to make their dream come true.

𝜗𝜚 FS could have a lot of internet friends, or they can also struggle with their friendships.

𝜗𝜚 FS could have been in romantic relationships before that created some traumas and wounds.

𝜗𝜚 FS can be popular, a flirt, and very handsome. They can also be very fun to be around, and they can love deeply their loved ones.

Thank you for reading!

back to index ; ask ; request ; rules ; instagram

[pumpkin-spike18]

✨Weekly Progress 2024 #13-15✨

I thought I missed 2 weeks, but turns out it was 3 🤐

Weekly Progress #13

Submitted DGM Page

Submitted 1/2 Fan Project checkin

Fleshed out about 1/3-1/2 P^3 outline

Read through + ID'd illustration points for Fan Project #2

Weekly Progress #14

Made SYVNH Script plan

Copied SYVNH + Side B to renpy

Talked with SFB musician

Drafted a pitch

Initial scripting pass for SYVNH main story

Sketched SFB Dove & Avia sprites (additional poses + outfits)

Linearted SFB Raven sprite

Weekly Progress #15

Initial scripting pass for SYVNH Side B

Finished 19 new additional SYVNH art assets

Coded in additional SYVNH art

Programmed in Side B link in main menu

Scripted in additional SYVNH art

I had a lovely two weeks of scripting 🙂🙂🙂

Yes, I lost my mind. Yes, it was mostly missing to begin with so no harm done.

Stuck in a Yandere Visual Novel...HELP!!

As I discussed before, I do my scripting in multiple passes. Though, this time I checked to make sure my staging is good before doing sound bites and audio. I'll admit that it's mostly so I can listen to streams as I go through the rather mindnumbing task. There were 10 files for the main story remaining so I tasked myself to script 2 files per day. Each file varied from as little as 150 lines (like 1 file) to 200 lines (most files) to 300+ lines (1 ending) and completing 2 files/day took about 6-8 hours.

Scripting mistakes result in both above and below. ...This is what I get for calling MC's sprite "mcs" and the male extra sprite "ms" One missing letter gives me a black shadow jumpscare.

The Side B scripting was a bit forgiving. It's only 28 pages compared to Scenes 5-6's 55 pages. So altogether Side B only took me 2 days for first pass scripting. That gave me time during the rest of the week to draw... new art assets... that I realized I needed during scripting. Some of them weren't required, but I felt would make a scene flow better.

And since I'm an artist?

Of course I did all 19 of them.

Wait, this wasn't updated- Just trust that I did 19 new image assets, including 3 new sprites 😂

Here are some previews. Is that a familiar character? Maybe~

So yeah, I've coded and scripted in all the new art, but I haven't tested everything yet. I plan to do that when I add in the soundbites.

A Sky of Falling Birds

...Still don't know what sort of visual I want for the game so I just started making sprites and lineart. I might make a demo with just the flat color at this rate tbh.

I got some positive reactions on their sprite sketches, so that makes me shy happy ;//v//;

Peter Pan Project = P^3

Still no title, but I've gotten used to calling it P^3 right now haha.

I didn't get very far with this project in the last 3 weeks, but about a third-half the story is outlined.

The story comes in 2 parts. The first part is 2/3rds outlined (1.7k+ words). The second half of the story is two bullet points lol. Granted, The second half may be a rapid descend to a conclusion. The planning document is already 2.3k+ words, which surprised a few folks...? I think my longest planning document was 11k+ words.

Hopefully next time I update, I'll have more info to share.

[Fan Projects]

Not too much/anything I can show yet as project rules have me not sharing until specific dates. It will be for Ace Attorney and D. Gray Man c:

[wife-of-the-crane]

ok so i wrote this and it is over 500 words but here we go lol

also here’s what the characters look like.

main character / lorelei

sister / lucinda

grandma / kiare

lone boy / elias

elias’ boyfriend / sebastian

boy 1 / alex

boy 2 / jesse

anyways now for the actual writing

————————————————————

It was the last hour of my closing shift, and I was nearly done cleaning the emptied tables. We are a relatively small unpopular restaurant, and we have yet to get customers this late. So, we had fallen into a routine of preparing for close early.

I was on my way to get the keys from Kiare, my grandmother and head chef, when I heard the familiar chime of the door opening. I returned to the front of the restaurant, exhausted but trying my best to appear cheery.

I was already on thin ice, and one more customer complaint about my “attitude” would get me fired.

It was a party of three, all of them being teen boys from what I could tell. My smile nearly dropped.

I hated having to serve teenagers. They were probably going to either tip terribly or bail before I gave them the check. But I had to keep up my cheery deposition, lest they lower our rating below the 3 stars we already struggled for.

“Hello, boys!” I exclaimed, trying to appear as cheery as I could, motioning towards the tables as I continued, “Please, find a seat, and I will be back out in a few with menus!”

I turned towards the counter connecting the kitchen to the rest of the restaurant, as I heard one of them make an ugly comment on my appearance. Not relatively surprising, as I wasn’t considered conventionally attractive by most. But still, didn’t help with my already sour mood.

I walked into the kitchen, grabbed three menus, and commented on how warm it was in the kitchen.

“It’s too warm in here,” I said, grabbing a cloth from my apron to wipe my forehead, already beginning to sweat.

“Well, obviously it is, jackass,” my sister, Lucina, replied. “We cook with gas in here, it’s gonna be warmer. You are lucky, you get AC out there!”

“I know it will be, but I said too, it is usually bearable.” I paused, wiping my forehead again, “Can’t say that about right now.”

With that, I swiveled back around and leisurely walked back to the seating area. I spotted where the boys had sat and approached. Well, it would be better to say, boy, as the others were missing, and seemed to leave him to sit nervously.

I set the menu’s down and looked at the boy questioningly.

He met my eyes and stuttered out, “The others are in the bathroom! I’m- erm- saving the table for them!”

He raised his hands defensively. I must have dropped the questioning look for a glare, because he began to look a lot more nervous.

That was when I began to smell smoke, and watched the other two boys bolt for the door.

The one I was previously watching tried to move to follow them, but I pushed him back into the chair.

“I promise- I’m not part of this!” the boy blurted out, “They said they wouldn’t do it-”

“Quiet!” I snapped at him. This is exactly why I don’t trust teenagers, they pulled this same stunt a few weeks ago and now we were late on building payment because we spent $500 repairing the burnt bathroom. “You stay here, or we tell the police you were with them!”

He gulped and nodded, and scooted back into the seat.

I bolted for the kitchen and immediately shouted something at Luci. “I told you it was too warm in here, the bathroom is on fire again!”

Luci turned to me and shouted back, “Again? It has only been two weeks since the last incident!” before grabbing an extinguisher and bolting for the doors that connected the bathroom hall to the kitchen.

I went back to the table, and must have let it show that I was surprised the boy was still there, because the boy opened his mouth to speak before closing it and looking back down. He muttered something under his breath.

“Sorry kid, what was that? You gotta talk louder kid,” I asserted.

“I suppose you want info?” he replied.

“All I want is names. Unless you have addresses?”

“I just met them today, I only have names.”

“Get on with it then,” I spouted, pulling out my notepad to write them down.

“Erm- Jesse Anderson,” He paused, watching me scribble it down. “And, uhm, Alex Sanders.”

I pocketed my notepad and turned toward the kitchen. “Thanks, kid, I will just tell them you discovered it,” I chirped, and went to call 911 on the restaurant's landline.

Jesse and Alex got put in a juvenile detention center, and were exposed as the same kids who had caused the fire two weeks prior.

And the kid who had dropped names, he said his name was Elias, actually became a regular. I suppose it was because he had to stay for so long, and my grandma ended up giving him some of the leftover food from closing.

He ended up bringing a lovely boy later, Sebastian was his name.

Elias helped pay for the bathroom repairs and began helping around the restaurant enough that he was practically already an employee. It just took Kiare giving him a wage and he officially worked for us.

Sebastian was around a lot more once Elias got hired, and brought more people to the restaurant because of connections at the high school.

So, even though we took some damage, I guess something good came out of the exchange.

————————————————————

@mxnique-gibeau bc you wanted to be tagged :3

[queenharumiura]

Get to know me

what’s your phone wallpaper : It's a piece of Shura (Yu Yu Hakusho) sleeping while cuddled in Sesshomaru's (Inuyasha) mokomoko. Why? Just RP things. Why that piece in particular? The composition worked well with the way I have all my apps situated on my phone.

last song you listened to: Uhhh I honestly don't remember, but it was something on the radio. I can barely be trusted to remember what I had for breakfast, much less remember what I listened to last.

currently reading : I read so many manga/manhua/manhwa that it's wild to consider me making a list of what i'm currently reading.

last movie :  Ehh--- I think it might've been 'The Legend of Hei'? Tenka, confirm? Deny?

last show : I'm going to answer in terms of a show that I recall watching from start to finish and not just me randomly going 'I want to rewatch that episode again'. In this case: The Yakuza's Guide to Babysitting' is the last show I recall watching.

what are you wearing right now : Uhh... basically homewear, I guess?

piercings / tattoos? : I'm allergic to pain, so neither, but I've seen a lot of cute earrings and it had me considering. I don't think i'd ever do a tattoo because they're permanent and that's a huge commitment to make. I'd have to think forever about a design, a meaning, a location, an artist, etc. It's a lot of pressure for me to think about. I would take too long to think of something and it's just not worth it. This is why I never touched Animal Crossing, because I knew i'd just take too long just analyzing everything and needing everything to be JUST RIGHT. So, if the question was a preference kinda question, i'd be more likely to go for a piercing.

glasses ? contacts?: Glasses. I can't really do contacts. That said, my glasses normally sit atop the top of my head like overqualified headbands. My prescription safety glasses at work have been used for their actual purpose more than my actual glasses. I've gone to the movies countless of times and went: ah-- I forgot my glasses. I'm dumb, yes.

last thing you ate? : The menu said 'chicken noodle' and it was under 'noodle and soups' so I assumed it was chicken noodle soup. I was wrong. idk what it actually is. I just know it's chicken noodle'.

favorite color(s) : Pink. Purple and black are close seconds. In terms of favorite colors from a sentimental/nostalgic reason: Jungle green and eggplant purple for dA RP shipping reasons.

current obsession : I don't think I have an obsession at the moment. IF I did, i'd be so gungho about it that you'd probably not see/hear me for quite some time. I'm currently just living every day like i'm a floating plank of wood on a calm ocean surface. My last obsession was... I think... watching a particular streamer I really liked. To be very subtle, he is known for using a sprout in Among us. Pretty sure that's right. Prior to that my obsession was the 'Trash of the Counts Family' novel until the licensing got pulled. Before that was the 'The King's Avatar' novel.

favorite fictional character : Oh man... I love so many. Haru Miura truly has a very special place in my heart. Hiei from Yu Yu Hakusho was such a big thing for me when I was younger. Don't get me started on how I was very into Tokuchi Toua (one outs) or Hiruma Youichi (Eyeshield 21). Shout out to Tatsumi Takeshi (Giant Killing) and Tsubaki Daisuke (Giant Killing). Gintoki (Gintama) truly was a time where my friends thought if I'd marry anyone, it would be him. I'd find a way to crossover to another dimension and marry him lol. This is really just me talking about past obsessions, yes.

Tagged by: @zcitgcistcr Tagging: I don't tag.

[fates-theysband]

All the color asks for Employee 432?

let's fuckin GO [starts looping the kisaragi station song on spotify and attempts to crack my knuckles but just kind of hurts my fingers a little bit]

black - how do you and your f/o comfort each other during rough times?

i mean, before they get their physical form back words are kind of all we have, but once they are able to physically experience the world again touch becomes a huge grounding thing for both of us (it's already one for me lol) so we get super cuddly when one of us has a bad day

dim gray - what do you two wear to formal events? what kinds of formal events do you go to together?

the most formal event either of us would likely get invited to is an office christmas party but if we went to a wedding or something we would probably both wear just suits. our respective personal styles don't really translate well to formal wear lmao

eggshell - how do you show each other that you trust one another?

we're both private people who don't really like talking about our personal problems so the fact that we're willing to open up about stuff to each other is a huge show of trust.

beau blue - what would the both of you do together on a lazy summer afternoon?

provided the heat isn't completely stifling we might go for a walk outside. i imagine it's been a while since they've had fresh air.

french blue - after you two have gone stable, what kinds of dates do you go on?

so i feel like even without the whole "spent a lot of time living in the walls of reality" thing they don't handle crowded or loud places well (which, neither do i) so i'd imagine a lot of museum dates or something to that effect.

indigo - who says ‘i love you’ first? how does it happen?

they do. i imagine it happens while they're still the timekeeper, after we've been actually talking for a while. they say it right before the game cuts to the start menu, in their last dialogue before they epilogue. i blitz through the figley ending so i can get to them again and say it back.

electric violet - what’s something odd, extravagant, or thrilling that you and your f/o like to do sometimes?

since both of us have absolute Gunch sleep schedules we're...not quite regulars at local 24 hour establishments but nobody really remarks on the sight of us anymore.

lilac - what’s something that makes you and/or your f/o nostalgic?

i know in my heart that we both have that Nerdy Kid All Grown Up nostalgia for science museums. probably that's a date we go on at least once.

tea rose - when you and your f/o first get together, how do you act towards each other in terms of affection? is it awkward? does it come naturally?

i mean, they didn't get a lot of human interaction even before Everything and i currently don't get a lot of human interaction so it was extremely awkward at first, especially after they got their body back because it was a constant mental battle for both of us of like. "i am like comically touch starved and there is another person who i know loves me right here but i don't want to overwhelm them".

wild watermelon - what’s both of your dream vacations like? do you agree on the location/activities?

they have that very office worker dream vacation of a tropical vacation to an island resort where nobody, least of all work, has any hope of reaching them until they're back. i'm more of a tourist-friendly city with a lot of history kind of person (although i also agree with the "drop completely off the radar" part). i feel like either of us would be willing to take the other's dream vacation though.

jasper - how fast do you two take your relationship?

well even now i still consider it to be kind of pining stage so i'd say...reasonably slow? like it's still progressing steadily but we're not in a hurry.

auburn - what’s one unhealthy or lavish food you can both agree is worth indulging in?

i swear on my life these exist and they're awesome: deep fried pb&j uncrustables.

coffee - do either of you have a garden or any house plants? if so, how good are you at taking care of them?

we're not really houseplant people (also i imagine just a fictionalized version of my actual place for my ship with 432 and there is simply not sufficient sunlight entering my basement apartment lol)

flame - would you two be more prone to get up early and watch the sunrise or go out and watch the sunset? alternatively, would you stay up until the sunrise and then sleep ‘till one?

oh boy we are night owls, the both of us. catch us waking up at 2 PM and then not wanting to get out of bed for another hour. and then staying up until like 4 AM.

bronze - do you and your f/o have any kinds of traditions you keep?

not yet but it's been like two months, give us time

canary yellow - what are the silliest nicknames you and your f/o use for each other?

we don't have silly nicknames for each other. Yet (meant threateningly).

granny smith apple - if you and your f/o had to move someplace new, where would it be? why?

probably somewhere a little smaller and quieter. less overwhelming for the both of us.

hunter green - what’s your favorite thing to do outdoors together?

go the fuck back inside i'm just goofin. we like picnics!

mountain meadow - on a particularly cold, rainy, or otherwise stay-in-doors kind of day, what activities do you do with your f/o?

we like playing video games and watching trash tv together!!

[hypaalicious]

When I say I’m obsessed with Arknights, this is what I mean

[strawberrystrangers]

Little, Teeny Crush | sebastian stan

Synopsis: Chris and Sam hook you and Sebastian up on Chris’ birthday night out, knowing you like him.

A/N: This is really rough for my first piece lol but hope you enjoy anyway. Requests are open for Sebastian Stan/Chris Evans/Tom Holland related topics. I have a few of my own story ideas I’m putting out, so if you do request bear with me.

“I honestly hope he doesn’t come,” you say, twirling the straw in your drink as a hopeful distraction. You focus on the ice cubes that circle the glass, feeling your chest pulsating at the same pace. It was June and that meant, really, only one thing: Chris demanding a night out for his birthday. You and Anthony had already planned the night, intending it as a surprise, but Chris ended up finding out and wanted to stay updated. So, now, the three of you were sat in The Wooden Crown Arms—because Chris always had an interest in British pubs—in a booth in the corner, waiting for Sebastian to arrive… Well, they were waiting, you were dreading.

     “Why?” Anthony asks, sitting opposite you and laughing. “He’s just late, what’s he ever done to you?”

     An already tipsy Chris giggles. “She has a little crush on him,” he points at you and then boops your nose. “A little, teeny crush.”

     You roll your eyes and try to suppress a laugh. “I’m gonna need a lot more to drink if I’m gonna catch up with you, Evans.”

     “A crush?” Anthony leans closer to you from across the table excitedly. “Really?”

     Before you can reply, you watch Sebastian walk through the entrance on the other end of the room. “Shut up,” you say. “He’s coming over.”

     Chris turns around but Sebastian still hasn’t seen you guys. “Oh, you mean Sebastian Stan?” He says loudly, almost falling off the seat. Anthony manages to pull him back before he completely hits the ground. 

     That’s when Sebastian sees you.

     He only looks at you first and it’s like the two of you are having some film-like slow-motion moment. But then Chris’ loud voice breaks it, and he engulfs Sebastian in a hug. You feel Sebastian still looking at you but you try and keep your focus on Anthony, too worried that you’ll blush if you look long enough. 

     “Sorry, I’m late,” he says, sitting down next to you. His thigh brushes yours and you gulp, but he seemingly ignores it, greeting Anthony across the table. “Traffic was a bitch.”

     “I think Y/N wants you to say that last part again,” Chris giggles. You widen your eyes at him and grit your teeth. Fuck.

     “Why?” Sebastian is looking right at you, obviously waiting for an answer but you can’t meet his eyes—and you see Chris staring, evidently manifesting you to look at each other.

     Still looking at Chris, you say, “My hearing is really bad in this place. I just didn’t catch it.”

     “Right,” Seb laughs in confusion. “I guess I’m gonna need a lot to drink if I’m gonna catch up with you, Chris.”

     Anthony and Chris turned to you, eyes wide at Sebastian’s similar line to yours earlier.

     “It’s a common phrase, guys,” you sigh.

     “A what?” Sebastian laughs confused again.

     “Common phrase.”

     “A common phrase?”

     “We said the same thing,” you explain. “They think it means something. I think it means Chris is too drunk already.”

     “I’m perfectly fine, Y/N! Look, it’s like this… when you have a time and you have a moment, it’s going to be pretty interesting.”

     “Chris, what the fuck are you saying?” You laugh.

     Sebastian laughs. “I’m gonna go get a drink. Anyone want another?” He looks at Anthony, who shows his full bottle, and then to Chris, and Anthony shakes his head. Then he finally looks at you, and you finally look back at him which causes your stomach to feel like a whole circus.

     “Southern Comfort and lemonade.” You smile.

     He nods and heads towards the bar. As soon as he’s out of sight, you lean across the table. “I should smack you both, what are you doing!”

     “Did you just say you’ll smack us?” Chris giggles.

     Anthony ignores Chris and says, “Trying to hook you up.”

     “You don’t even know if he’s attracted to me. Can you not put me out there when I haven’t done it myself? I can’t handle rejection. Especially not from someone as hot as Sebast—“

     “Here you go.” Sebastian sings, sliding your drink towards you. “Got you a straw too, saw you had one in your last drink.”

     In unison, Chris and Anthony shout, “Gentleman!”

     “This is so weird,” Sebastian laughs. “I love it.”

***

Chris and Sebastian are deep in conversation while you and Anthony scan the food menu for snacks. Sebastian stretches his arm across the back of the booth seat behind you—his focus still on Chris. Anthony’s eyes widen at you, face not really containing his excitement. You mouth to him to “chill out”. 

     “I need the bathroom!” Anthony bursts out abruptly. Everyone looks at him. “Yeah, I need the bathroom. Move Chris…”

     After a short moment, Chris’ phone dings and he looks at it. Then he quickly looks up, grinning at both you and Sebastian. You give Chris a look of, don’t you fucking dare leave me alone with him. But his grin only grows larger.

     “I have to go to the bathroom.”

     You sigh, “did Anthony just text—“

     “I just have to go to the bathroom. I can’t hold it any longer, I guess.” 

     And then he’s gone… leaving you and Sebastian left alone. With his arm still behind your head, he taps the seat with his fingers and you feel your heartbeat get faster. You’re getting nervous—or rather more nervous than before. You can hear his fingers on the leather so close by your ear.

     “Y/N?” He says, and you snap out of your daze. “Were you not listening?” He laughs, a smile wide on his face.

     “I don’t think I was, I’m sorry. Say that again.”

     “I was asking if you were having a good time.”

     “I’m having a great time.” You’re still facing frontwards but you notice and feel Sebastian turn his body towards you. “What about you?” You give a quick glance and then sip your drink again.

     “I’m having a good time…” he’s chuckling to himself. You can hear the leather squeaking as he’s shaking his leg. “I’m having a really good time, yeah.”

     “Seems Chris is too,” you joke.

     “Yeah,” he says. “Chris is definitely going for it tonight.”

     “Yeah…”

     “Why were they shouting my name when I first arrived?”

     You gulp and hope he didn’t hear it. “They must have seen you come in.”

     “They were facing you,” he says with a smile still on his face. “You were the one to see me. I saw you look at me and look away.” You drink faster through the straw. “Did you say something about me?” He laughs. 

     You choke as you swallow your drink, coughing and catching the attention of the other people in the bar. He rubs your back and puts a hand on your arm. “Oh my god, that was embarrassing.”

     “Are you okay?” When he asks this, you turn to him. Properly looking at him now and you wonder if you can trust yourself. While looking at him, you notice one of his collar sides is sticking up. You unfold it and caress it down so it’s in its right place.

     “Sorry,” you say overly apologetic. You completely forgot where you were for a moment. “It was bugging me. One side up. One side down.”

     He just stays smiling and shakes his head. “No problem, I liked it… I mean, I appreciated it. Appreciated it, yeah.”

     He’s looking at you in the eyes and you don’t think you’ve ever met someone who makes such great eye contact like him. It’s making you nervous again. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips then back to your eyes, licking his lips every now and then.

     Then you move your hands down to the hem of his top, twisting it around your fingertip to ease your nerves. “Is this okay?” You ask and he nods.

     He moves his free hand—with his other still in the back of the booth seat behind you—onto your thigh, his thumb gently caressing the inside of it. “Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. You feel your insides becoming giddy, goosebumps forming across your skin.

     Just as you think Sebastian is leaning in, Anthony approaches the table and you retract your hand from his shirt but his hand stays still on your thigh.

     “I’m gonna give Chris a ride home,” he says. “He’s gone a little bit overboard. You two good, here?”

     You nod. “Yeah, I’ll grab a cab home.”

     “We can share and split the cost,” Sebastian says. “Then we know you get home safe.”

***

The cab finally pulls up outside your apartment building, and you hesitate for a moment. The rain is pattering on the car windows and with your light alcoholic buzz, everything feels so calm and soothing.

     “You okay?” He asks.

     You want to ask him up, but you don’t want to feel rejected. Maybe you were imagining the moment in the bar?

     “I’d like that,” he says.

     You’re brought out of your thoughts, “Huh?”

     “Coming up to your apartment,” he laughs.

     “Did I say that out loud?”

     He nods, laughing. “Did you not mean to?”

     The cab driver sighs. “Look, man, this is cute and all but I’m running gas, here. Are you getting out or not?”

     Sebastian looks at you to make sure you want him to come up. You nod at him knowingly. He lets you out of the cab first before he paying the driver. When he exits, he puts a hand to the small of your back. You’re both quiet when you walk through the lobby and into the elevator—maybe it’s tension or maybe it’s just awkwardness. You’re not quite sure.

     “Which number?” He asks.

     “Oh, yeah, sorry,” you laugh. “It’s the third floor.”

     He presses the button for number 3 and stands close by your side, his hand still on the small of your back. The doors open on your floor and you walk down the hall to your apartment, Sebastian now trailing behind you instead of beside you. You put the key in the lock and turn it, open the door.

     “You’re not some secret serial killer, are you?” You ask. “Only you’re trailing behind me…”

     “I figured I’d give you some space in case you felt like you wanted to slam the door in my face and not let me in.” He says this as he’s walking through the hallway of your apartment. When he sees your couch he asks if he can sit on it and you nod.

     “Water or coffee?” You call to him from the kitchen.

     “Coffee, please, Y/N.”

     You walk into the room holding a glass of water for yourself and a coffee for Sebastian. You sit opposite him on the couch. “Tonight was fun,” you say.

     “Very fun,” he agrees, sipping from the mug. Then there’s a moment of silence. “Did you like my hand on your thigh?”

     “Did I?” You stutter nervously, taken aback by the question.

     “I should really stop making you choke, shouldn’t I?” He chuckles. “So, did you? Like my hand on your thigh?”

     “That’s a sexy way of asking for consent,” you giggle. “But I did, yeah.”

     He looks at you deeply again, and you’re getting nervous again. “Would you like it…” he moves closer to you, and you do the same.

     “I would,” you whisper.

     He places the mug on the table and rests his hand on your thigh like earlier. His thumb gently caressing the inside of it.

***

Sebastian’s hand was cold when it slid up your body to rest his hand by your collar bone, his palm flat feeling your heartbeat get faster and faster, and his wrist resting between your boobs. His other hand slipped into your underwear, finger sliding down your slit.

     “You’re soaking,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm. A jarring difference from his cold hands. “Have you been like this all night?”

     You tilt your head back onto his shoulder. And he loves the sight, you in pleasure heaven, your neck on show for him, your body quivering back into his. “Have you been like this all night?”

     “Y-yes,” you manage to make out. “Oh, daddy, yes. All night.”

     “Good thing I came up to you, then?” He asks. “Are you glad I came up to you?” He emphasises the word “came” and he feels you clench against his finger.

     “Not yet, baby, you don’t get me inside of you yet. Just be patient, baby.”

[sluttywonwoo]

sunkissed || l.sk x reader

Summary: more like sunburned. on vacation with seokmin you lay out on the beach for a little too long, making for a very interesting night.

Warnings: swearing, smut

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

The sun was absolutely blinding and even though you were wearing sunglasses you couldn’t see anything. You knew your boyfriend was still stretched out in a lounge chair under the umbrella behind you, though, because you could hear him humming along to the music streaming from his phone, and that was all that mattered. 

Last time you’d been able to see him he had been hiding a copy of his new Excalibur script behind a book and feigning reading. The two of you had agreed to a no work on vacation rule, and he’d been the first to break it, but you could tell he was just so excited about his new project that you let it slide.

It was your first vacation with Seokmin, and so far it had been wonderful. You’d checked in yesterday and done a little bit of the touristy thing, but today you were content to lie on the beach for hours with no intention of moving. 

The sound of the crashing waves had lulled you to sleep a couple of times already, and you knew Seokmin would make fun of you for it later, but with the salty breeze and warm sand beneath you, you couldn’t help it. 

The water was spotted with some swimmers and surfers, but the beach itself wasn’t very crowded. You and Seokmin had planned your trip so that you’d just miss the summer break rush so everything could be a little more peaceful. 

You were pulled out of your half sleep when Seokmin’s humming stopped. You opened your eyes and tried to blink away the spots dancing at the edges of your vision when a weight dropped on top of you. You smirked as familiar lips planted a kiss to your cheek and tried to squirm away, but he had you pinned.

“Almost ready to go back up to the room, baby?” he murmured in your ear.

You nodded, and managed to twist your body underneath Seokmin to look up at him. Your eyes finally adjusted and you grinned lazily at the sight before you. His fair hair framed by the golden sunset behind him, brown eyes more dazzling than anything you’d ever seen, faint freckles starting to show on his cheeks from the sun. You consider yourself lucky that you didn’t need to leave home to see such a beautiful view.

You hadn’t been keeping track of the time, but now that you saw the sun setting over the water you realized how long you and Seokmin had been sitting out there.

“Are you hungry? Let’s get something to eat, babe.” 

“I could eat.”

“So could I,” he whispered breathily, sending a shiver down your spine despite the heat. 

You’d been teasing each other with the clichés all day: being a little more thorough than necessary with rubbing sunscreen on each other, you untying the back of your bikini to sunbathe, Seokmin running into the water for point two seconds just so you could see him soaking wet and admire the way the water glistened on his body. You were on vacation, and the hotel room was beautiful. It had tub on the balcony and a breathtaking view of the blue-roofed villas cascading down the cliffs as well as the water.

However, the bed had yet to be broken in, both of you had been exhausted after exploring Akrotiri and Pyrgos, but it was something you planned to remedy tonight. 

You followed Seokmin up to the room where you both got ready for dinner at a restaurant a friend had recommended to you. You wore a short, white, linen dress and Seokmin wore a similar white button-up that he left the top buttons undone on, so that he could show off his tan.

Dinner was much like the afternoon. The details were blurry, but there was a lot of alcohol and a lot of back and forth. By sheer luck the host had seated you at a tiny booth in the back of the restaurant where you could still see the cliffs, but also sit smushed next to each other. Seokmin kept one hand on your knee throughout the meal, and if asked later, he would deny moving it any further, but you recounted the events very differently. At one point, your lips were moving in a whisper against his ear and the base of his neck and you swore Seokmin’s grip on your leg got so tight you thought you might lose circulation. 

“You want dessert, baby?” he asked when the waiter approached your table with the shiny silver menus.

“I’m good,” you managed to say, slowly, but steadily. “You?”

“What I want isn’t on the menu,” he replied in the same tone, looking directly into your eyes, ignoring how the waiter in front of your table pursed his lips.

He’d probably heard that line a thousand times, especially working in a vacation spot like this. His eyes screamed ‘just fucking say you want to eat her out and go’ but for what it was worth, the line worked on you.

“So I’ll bring the check then?” he asked when neither of you addressed him. 

“Oh, yes please. Thanks.”

After fumbling with the key and stumbling into the room, you were beyond ready to be fucked senseless when Seokmin slapped your ass cheekily, making you cry out in pain.

“Ow, Seok,” you bit out, putting your hand where his had just been. 

His face contorted with concern. “I’m so sorry, y/n! I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay,” you said, smoothing your dress out over your body.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

He leaned back against the dresser, arms crossed, watching you with pain in his eyes. You knew how bad he felt about hurting you, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. Usually, there was pain mixed with pleasure, but this time was different. You could still feel the sting on your skin. Hesitantly, you lifted the edge of your dress and saw the unmistakable tint of a sunburn all down the back of your legs, complete with a still fading mark of a handprint on your ass.

Seokmin gasped. “Y/n.”

“What the fuck?”

“Baby, I’m so sorry, I had no idea,” he apologized again.

“Neither did I,” you groaned, squinting your eyes down at your body.

“You put on sunscreen didn’t you?” he asked and you had to bite your tongue before you snapped at him. 

“Of course I did!”

“Did you reapply?”

“Yeah, once I think.”

He didn’t say anything, but you knew he was judging you. “Here, I think we have some aloe,” Seokmin said and disappeared into the bathroom. He emerged moments later with the signature bottle of green gel in hand. 

“Take your dress off, baby,” he instructed and carefully helped you lift your dress over your head, careful not to let the fabric touch your body.

With a sigh, you threw yourself on the bed on your stomach, only smiling when you heard Seokmin’s little chuckle from behind you. You felt the weight shift on the bed as he climbed up next to you, and sat cross legged beside you. He pushed some of the hair out of your face with a soft grin and popped the cap on the bottle of aloe. 

You could tell he was trying his best not to come off as deflated, but you understood. You were disappointed too. You had been looking forward to getting good dick all day, and now every time you moved pain rippled through your body.

“This might be a bit cold,” Seokmin said as a disclaimer before rubbing the first bit of aloe onto your skin.

You sighed with relief as the gel instantly cooled your skin on impact. Seokmin was careful to rub it in gently, applying just enough so you wouldn’t be sticky later. He started with your calves and worked his way up, and you began to feel progressively better. 

Once he reached your thighs you fought the urge to clench them together. You knew it wasn’t the time, but your body didn’t, and your boyfriend’s fingers on your inner thighs was basically code for it. All of the feelings from the beginning of the night came rushing back and his fingers were just so close to where you wanted them. You had to actively fight the urge to moan. 

“Fuck, y/n,” he cleared his throat awkwardly as he continued to massage aloe onto your ass. “Are you, uh, wet?”

You only nodded in response, still not trusting yourself to open your mouth. 

“Do you want me to...” he trailed off, but you got the idea.

“God yes,” you sighed out and let the tension evaporate from your body as you felt Seokmin’s fingers work their way back down to your thighs, right where they had been. He was just about to give you what you wanted when you stopped him. “Wait,” you said, grabbing his wrist and he froze, afraid he had done something wrong. “Use your other hand,” you held up his right hand, covered with green goo for him to see. “I have a feeling aloe in my vagina won’t end well.”

He laughed and leaned down to kiss you. “Of course, whatever you want, baby.”

He started his ministrations again, continuing to rub aloe on your body with his right hand while he began to work two fingers inside of you. You moaned out, louder than expected at the combined relief from the gel and the pleasure from his fingers inside you. 

“Feel good?”

“So good, Seok, baby,” you breathed.

“Let me hear you,” he encouraged, inserting another finger. You gasped in response and felt your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Fuck, y/n, you’re so good for me,” Seokmin praised eliciting another moan from you.

You felt yourself getting closer and closer, teetering on the edge, but it wasn’t quite enough. “Seokmin,” you pleaded and looked back at him, catching him licking his lips, eyes filled with lust in the dim lighting, making you swear. “Fuck, Seok, please.”

“Hm?” he asked, ripping his attention from between your legs and meeting your eyes.

“Fuck, I need more,” you gasped. “I need you.”

“Don’t worry, angel,” he said in a raspy voice with a glint in his eye and a smirk pulling at his lips, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

i didn’t go too in depth about what he sunburn looks like on the reader because…well, it’s different for everyone. like it’s a fucking tossup whether I’ll get sunburned or not because i’m hapa lol anyway lmk what you think I always appreciate feedback!!

send me an ask to be added to my taglist

[amesstm]

when they knew they loved you

Characters: Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu, Suna Rintarou,  

Warnings: none

A/N: the bullet points are extra reasons why they would love you  

°˖✧Miya Osamu✧˖°

The way you smile and dance when you eat something good

The fact that you supported him when Atsumu got mad at him for wanting to pursue a culinary career

How you know every way to cook an egg. How does he like his eggs in the morning? Well, he likes variety so you’re perfect for him

How you two bond over watching Gordon Ramsay’s shows lol  

“’Samu, when did you know you loved me?” You asked, eyes drifting up to look into your boyfriend’s eyes. You were currently pressed against his broad chest, so it was a feat in itself to look up at him.

He looked down at you, confused. Did he do something wrong? He couldn’t remember, so he asked, “Why do you want to know?”  

You shrugged, “Honestly, I’m just curious.”

Either that could mean his doom or you were being genuine. Given that you’re usually honest – except for when you steal his food – he trusted your sincerity.  

It was a few years ago when he told you that he loved you, back in high school. You remember when you two first said that you loved each other. It was when you two had dated for only a month into your third year. He took you to a shop that had “the best onigiri.” Now, his restaurant was probably the best onigiri producers.  

“I loved you long before we started dating,” he admitted. Osamu started to gently brush your hair with his hands.  

Your eyes widened at this. You two had been friends long before you two started dating, but even you didn’t realize he loved you before then. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled, looking nostalgic. “We were eating dinner after a game, I remember that. Don’t remember where. But you were ordering everything off of the menu.”

“Hey, you sometimes do the same thing!” You defended, wiggling to cross your arms.

“Exactly, I love a girl who isn’t afraid to eat well.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled away with a smile. “It made me realize that I wanted to travel the world to eat good food with you.”

You giggled, “Of course that’s when you thought you loved me.”

 °˖✧Miya Atsumu✧˖°

He loves how competitive you get when he riles you up, it really makes him laugh

When you soothe his muscles after a hard practice, it’s really romantic for him

How you cheer for him during games? He feels the support radiating from you

He also loves when you take the time to plan a bento picnic for him

You and Atsumu had dated for a while, beginning at the start of the year. The spark started from you helping him study so he wouldn’t completely fail a class and be forced to drop out of the volleyball team.  

In a weird way, you reminded Atsumu of his captain. You were always reliable, smart, but you didn’t have the ability to put people in their place. That was until you showed up to a match that Atsumu invited you to.  

After dating for several months, you knew Atsumu as well as Osamu did. The biggest detail when he was on the court? No matter what: do not make a noise when he’s about to serve. Surprisingly, the opposing team Karasuno was very respectful about this silent rule. Quite literally.

You sat silently, observing Atsumu go through his routine. A small smile drifted to your face as you watched your boyfriend in his element. The tense silence was broken when these two girls – new to watching a match – started to cheer for him as he served.

Perhaps you spent too much time around Atsumu, but a thick Kansai accent exploded from you. Like a mother in protection-mode, you barked, “Shut yer trap!”

Luckily, Atsumu served perfectly, but that didn’t stop you from glaring at the girls you were mentally slapping. Your boyfriend was about to do the same, until he saw your face. He’d never seen you lose your composure before.  

The cute glare on your face made him giddy with butterflies. A grin appeared on his face and he exclaimed, “I love you Y/N!”

“I-I love you, too,” you stammered, now red as a tomato. “Just focus on winning!”

°˖✧Suna Rintarou✧˖°

He is your photographer and you are his model. If you’re shy of the camera, too bad because he loves having multiple pictures of you on his phone

He loves when you hug him from behind, it makes him so soft  

Secretly enjoys how excited you get to braid his hair if it’s particularly long

How you can read him and his emotions as if he were a Wikipedia page

Suna didn’t know why everyone wanted him to care so much about volleyball. The team had won anyways, regardless of Suna slacking off towards the end. Yet that didn’t stop a certain blond from ripping him a new one.  

“Suna!” Atsumu yelled and whined. “You shouldn’t have stopped caring in the last half of the set!”

You were only outside the locker rooms, but you could still hear Atsumu chewing out your boyfriend. As always, Suna would sigh in response with a mutter for an answer. Now, Suna would probably be down for the rest of the day, which he promised he would spend with you.

After they finished cleaning up, Suna was ready to join you. He slowly walked towards the exit doors, but the drag in his step irked you. That piss-head had no right to yell at your boyfriend.  

Scouring through the volleyball team members still there, you saw that fake blond hairdo from a mile away. Steam must’ve been blowing out of your ears because Suna looked concerned, “Babe, are you okay?”

You smiled at him and giggled evilly, “I’m peachy. Do you mind holding my stuff for me?”

Suna’s eyes widened when he saw you take off your rings. Luckily, he still had a hand to record the beat-down. Atsumu was out of commission for a while. Every time he watched you defend him, his heart would beat a bit faster.  

[messwriting]

Written for The Smut Pile Collab: Mafia AU | MASTERLIST HERE.

POISON AND PLEASURE

Osamu Miya (Post-Time Skip) x Mob Boss! Female Reader

“Backed into a corner, Osamu makes a deal with the devil -- you.”

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Warnings: oh boy. Dub-con (Osamu does consent, but it is coercion); MANIPULATION AND EXTORTION; slight gun play, lasts for a moment; Rough sex; Hate-fucking; Degradation/Humiliation; Spanking, also just for a moment; Oral sex, fingering; Orgasm Denial; Choking; Violence; Dash of corruption and prey/predator; Deep throat; Facial. Fucking in a kitchen/public place. Also, just in case, toxic relationship and money talk (lol). 

Word count: 9,889 (such a nice number)

A/N: Oh, this has been a ride. This is my contribution to The Smut Pile Collab, hosted by the lovelies @present-mel​, @pleasantanathema​ and @linestrider​. I’m very excited to participate, since it is my first collab and they are my (home) first server. Big, huge, gigantic thanks to Lauren (my wife) for reading this over and beta-ing for me. <3

Well, Osamu fuckers unite! :insert elmo fire: (i’ve been on discord too much)

Osamu gets up from his seat inside his small office, looking from the small window on his door inside the already closed restaurant lit only by the lights that come in through the windows, the time being well after closing. Shady deals are mostly done late at night, he thinks. Right as he’s leaving the office and closing the door behind him with a key, the movement outside catches his eye and Osamu turns just in time to watch as the black BMW sedan of the year quietly comes to a halt right in front of his store. He frowns, knowing who that means. He'd much rather deal with the soldier responsible for his loan initially than with you.

Two men emerge from the front doors of the car, one immediately heading for the passenger door while the driver checks the street; they exchange a small nod before the man on the side of the sidewalk opens the passenger door and when he does, he positions himself behind it and immediately out of the way. Osamu could be intrigued by the action if he didn't feel so represented by it - he, too, would prefer to always be out of your way.

There’s power in the way you move, ingrained in your body as you descend an expensive white heel onto the concrete beneath you on the sidewalk, the other following suit while you propel yourself out, holding the frame of the car for support. It’s late at night and the street is fairly dark, but your simple presence, clad in an impeccable white suit with a deep neckline showing immaculate skin, is enough to brighten the place. There’s an elegant, expensive-looking and equally unnecessary coat draped over your shoulders and your hair was flawlessly styled.

You draw attention as the color black absorbs light-- from all and everything. Maybe it is because of your soul, he muses.  

Once you were standing outside the car, your driver marched to the door of the onigiri restaurant, holding it open for you while you strode inside, heels clicking on the pavement, the sway of your hips something Osamu may think beautiful to watch if it weren’t you.

“Hello, Miya-san. Hope you have better news for me this week.” You state as cheerfully as you can, calmly entering the establishment in a glory of white. You shed your coat once you passed the door, the driver catching it while the second man seemed to survey the outside area a little more before entering.

"Hi." Osamu extends his hand with the brown envelope. But you go around him and walk to the counter, calmly sitting down on one of the high stools while absentmindedly looking around his small restaurant.

“I missed my lunch today, so I hope you don’t mind me grabbing a bite before I leave.” You don’t look at Osamu when he doesn’t move for his place behind the counter immediately.

“We’re closed.” He says and you turn around just momentarily, piercing eyes on his profile. One of your men is still by the door and the look he gives the twin is also very compelling. Osamu feels his teeth gritting against the pressure he makes to shut his tongue. "Sure."

One of the goons comes closer and takes the brown envelope from his hands, without you even looking back as the burly tattooed man sits in one of the booths and starts counting the money.

“So, how’s business? I’ve heard you had a hard time these last two months.” You try to make small talk while checking the menu over the counter, carefully done nails threading along the restaurant menu. You only press a long nail against what you want and slide it to him, the 18K diamonds on your small and discreet Cartier watch and matching trinity ring on your finger catching more of his attention than your watchful eyes. Your jewelry is discrete, tasteful, and still amounting enough to buy the whole building where the Onirigi’s shop is located. Osamu's throat moves around nothing in reflex.

"Isn’t it obvious?" He grumbles while working against the counter, starting once he cleans his hands on the sink. He’d like to say his eyes keep diverting to your neckline because of your shining jewelry.

"So rude, Miya." you chuckle. “And I’ve been nothing but nice to you. Didn’t you pay for your little plumbing problem with my money? Is it only dirty to you once I’m present?”

"I don’t like people like you." Osamu doesn’t beat around the bush. And once he’s done with this payment he’d be completely free of you anyway, he doesn’t feel the need to pretend.

“Like me? You mean kind? All I ever did was help you out in a time of need.”

Osamu’s snort is disrespectful. The big man by the door moves but a simple turn of your hand in the air has him standing back, carefully looking down on Osamu, but unmoving. The other’s still counting the money rather calmly, the booth he’s seated unseeable from the shop window.

“You see, disrespect won’t take you far.” You say offhand, your watchful eyes on Osamu’s every move but with no real worry. You don’t trust him, but you know he’s not stupid.

"I don’t plan on it." He answers you after a beat, finishing wrapping the Salmon onigiri, disposing it carefully on a plate, and depositing it in front of you, accompaniments arranged around. Osamu doesn't use the fact that he doesn't like you as an excuse for a half-ass job; he's not the type, which is refreshing. Is what you like about him.

“Get started on a few others. I trust your recommendations.”

Osamu chooses to work quietly, in silence. You, however, are happily chatting away at his high stool as if this is just another day of bullying patrons. Maybe, for you, it is.

“You work very diligently.” You observe, eyes trailing from his toned arms to his deft fingers diligently working on the rice ball. He’s fast and experienced, rolling the nori around the triangled shaped steamed rice after successfully filling it with whatever he chose. Osamu just grumbles out something, or tsk, even when the way you look at his fingers takes an unexpected appreciative turn. 

“Maybe I should have you working overtime more.” You muse when he finishes the new onigiris and carefully places them in front of you. Osamu eyes you nastily, clearly displeased at your comment, which makes your lips split in a bigger smile despite your teeth closing around the rice ball. Even so, you’re pleasantly surprised by their flavor. 

“See, this is why I like you, Osamu.” The man frowned at your loose use of his first name, the way it rolls off your tongue so nicely. “You always deliver good work.”

“It’s my job.” Osamu retorts, unamused. “I do it right even if it’s for…” He catches his tongue right in time, his eyes catching movement from the man seated down at one of the tables, almost biting his tongue in the process. “--people like you.” 

Osamu watches while the burly man with tattoos moves discreetly despite his size, bends down so his mouth can be on your ear level, and murmurs something to you that he doesn’t quite catch. Your steely eyes are momentarily looking down when they blink and fly back to his face, a deep, blank stare that makes Osamu’s brows furrow. His back becomes straighter, a gripping feeling in his gut that triggers his fight or flight. 

He presses the urge down - tells himself he doesn’t have anything to fear.

He’s looking down at you, but Osamu feels small under your steady glare. Which in reflex, after several years of being stupid in pair, makes him want to act up.

"Seems to me you forgot some money, Miya."

"What?" His shocked tone is harsh and his eyes dart between you to the two men behind you, looking as steady as his walls and just as broad. "I counted it twice, everythin’ I owe ya ‘s there." His accent comes out pretty hard when he’s agitated.

"You only have fifty thousand here."

“I owe ya fifty thousand.” Osamu deadpans, almost sneering. “What ’re ya sayin’?"

“No, Miya. Fifty thousand is what you owed me two weeks ago.”

"You gave me an extension." He argues, brows furrowed.

"Exactly. I never said anything about the interest.”

"What?"

"You forgot the interest." You talk to him as if he’s a child, lips turning upwards at his confusion. Osamu has the gut feeling you’re enjoying every second of this. Every little moment of his deep discomfort. “You were informed about them when you accepted the loan, you know how they work. If you don’t pay on the due date, 10 percent interest each extra week you remain in debt.”

"Are you telling me I'm missin’ over 10K in interest rates?

"Yes." You say, smiling while tilting your head sideways, analytical. "Because you are."

“I'm paying you back,” Osamu grits through his clenched teeth, almost as if he’s willing it to be true, “Everything I owed ya is there. ”

"Not quite. You’re paying me back about--” You smile and press your lips in thinking, eyebrows furrowing while you calculate on your head the exact number.  “-- 82 percent of what you owe me.”

Osamu’s fists close, veins bulging while his heart picks up with the adrenaline rush of a fit of rage. Aggression flows on his body to the point where his entire frame trembles. His teeth are clenched, tightly forced together by his pressed jaw. His brain cannot reason beyond the need to vent that outrage, and with every second he spends looking at your pretty-faced indifference sitting in front of him at the counter, his outrage slowly merges into fury. Osamu stares back at your emotionless eyes, turns, and walks two strides before burying his fist in the nearest plaster wall, the pain grounding him, soothing his nerves. 

Pain is familiar -- what Osamu doesn’t like is to feel so deranged.

"Fuck!" He exclaims loudly but still controlled, turns his broad back to you, breathes deeply a few times, and then settles. You watch in delighted silence as he moves to the freezer, grabs an iced pack of random food, and puts on his busted knuckles, his eyes on the hole he left on the wall; The twin sighs audibly, then walks back while coldly regarding you and your two watchdogs who look over to him carefully, almost startled.

You, however, didn’t even flinch.

"So how much do I still have to give you?"

“I think the better question is: Can you pay?”

“I’ll figure it out.” Osamu grumbles out, his clenched jaw working over grinding teeth.

“That’s not how this works, Miya.” You tell him, your spine regally straight on the high seat as if it is your throne. Your lips move around the next word with malice. “When.”

“I--” Osamu stops to think for a moment, coldly calculating his financial situation. He has no way to withdraw money from the main branch to try and cover the losses of this branch, that would be simply stupid. There is no way for him to borrow money from Atsumu, who doesn’t know the concept of savings; Kita can not help him with such a great amount and he can’t recur to his poor parents. He also doesn’t want to resort to a bank at all, which doesn’t leave him many options. A new extension raises interests and he doesn't think he can do it beyond the amount he would need to add. Osamu's chest slowly fills with dread - he knows what’ll come if he doesn’t pay and he refuses to let his business become a Mafia parlor.

You watch Osamu slowly and quite meticulously calculate his options while engrossed in reasoning his dreadful situation; it’s thrilling, you almost can’t hide the contentment blossoming in your chest at his desperate situation. 

His expression shifts and turns sour, before slowly building back his blank façade but it’s too late, you already know his conditions and capacities - it’s your job to know. And you pride yourself in never making bets, just assuming calculated risks, so Osamu is right where you wanted him to be.

You do suspect the black-haired male is the same, that disinterested stare in his handsome face nothing short of sharp, his aloof behavior making every second of rilling Osamu up to this manifestation of discomfort all the more delightful. His only problem is that the man plays by rules you don’t. And what you want, you take.  

“I’ll need an extension for the rest.” He finally says, so absolutely angered it’s almost a curse. Even the hostility in his tone makes a shiver run down your spine, all the hairs on your arms standing on edge while your insides slowly melt, fed by the images in your brain.

“Really?” You playfully answer, faked surprise not made to convince anyone. Osamu seethes in place, labored breathing making his chest move up and down. “See, now I can’t help you out. I told you disrespect would only take you so far.” 

You get up from your seat, a show of touching your expensive black plump Louboutin on the ground. “I can’t let you out like this, not when you did such a show of being… rude.”

“What do you want.” Osamu almost spits at you once you’re rounding his counter, entering his space, closing on him. But he holds himself in place by pressing his nails hardly against the inside of his palms.

“First, some respect.” You sultrily say at him, much as a viper luring its prey. It rolls off your scarlet lips while you look up at him from your long lashes and perfect face. It makes Osamu want to wreck it.

“I don’t respect you.” He says in undertone since you’re close, sounding much like a hiss. 

“Doesn’t seem like a smart thing to say to someone to whom you owe so much.” You purse your lips, fake pout. “And you seem like a smart man, Miya. Or am I wrong?”

Osamu blinks, brows furrowing while he looks down at you, his mind working.

“Where are you going with this?” He eyes you warily, his eyebrows furrowing, his mind trying to gauge the target of your wicked intentions. “You want something.”

 You smile, pretty red lips stretching to show a beautiful line of white teeth and he’s surprised that the poison isn’t dripping. 

“See, I knew you were smart.”

“I’m not giving you my business.” Osamu hisses, like a cornered animal, but his instance shows he’s more prone to fight than flee. 

“Don’t want it.” You’re quick to tell him, innocence so out of place that it makes even clearer that you’re being honest. “I may need… services, though.” 

Osamu’s spine shoots straight once again, his eyes sharp boring into your face with cold disdain.

“I’m not laundering your money.” 

“Money launder, Miya? That’s a federal felony.” You lean back, supporting yourself on your forearms against the balcony, vigilant eyes zooming on him. “Are you saying I’m a criminal?” 

Osamu stays silent for the first time. There’s a predatory glint in your eyes that he understands as a warning, but that doesn’t stop him from upturning his brow and tilting his head in a small challenge. Osamu is appalled at what your upturning lips do to his guts, swallowing the saliva that pools in his mouth. He must be wrong in the fucking head to feel anything else than disgust in your sight, but even so, there’s no denying the way there’s a devilish pull around you, like the temptation of a capital sin.

“What I mean is… I have a specific service for you, personally. So you could pay me in...” Your tongue snaps against the roof of your mouth with a small noise, lips turning up in vile intention, “Different goods, per se.”

Osamu refuses to accept his train of thought, eyes pressing into slits while he watches you. His tone enunciates every word of his question. 

“What do you mean?” 

Your answering smile is sordid.

“You know what I mean Miya, we’ve just established you’re not stupid.”

“I’m starting ta’ think you are, though.”

Your laugh is loud, cheerful even. It makes him look at you as if you’re insane.

“Maybe.” You chuckle, retreating your arms back and straightening your posture on the tool, your neck tilting to the side. “But when I want something, I want it. So why deny myself that? I find the whole point of self-control to be so… pedestrian.” There’s this contempt in your tone at the word, mixing into trivial once your shoulders shrug your consideration for a whole chunk of what living in a society means. “Why hold myself to it if I’m above?” Osamu chooses to ignore that question.

“And what if I say no?” 

“You’re free to do what you want, I don’t own you.” Yet, you think, smiling. “Then again you still owe me 10k in interests and with your measly weekly 5k profit and the increased interest percentage with the second extension, we know what’ll happen to you…  And I’d hate for that to happen to you.”

The silence is heavy and acidic, burning on him. And you let the seconds pass, relishing in the way he seems to grow aggravated, jaw overworking around nothing to bite, hands in fists by his side. 

Oh, you’re close to defiling the pristine white of your designer clothes, the feeling brewing inside you threatening to spill between your thighs. Osamu looks absolutely delicious while being so emotional. 

You can see the gears turning inside his pretty dark-haired head, his eyes looking around and back at you, threading down your face, to your neck to the plunging neckline of your suit - you elongate your body while he watches, pleased to have his eyes on you, especially when they're burning with unattended violence and aggression. 

Osamu’s always so detached from the events happening around him, so unshakable in that aura of apathetic tranquility that it has caused you to develop an almost macabre interest in making him desperate. And now you are continually enjoying the result, the awakening of the flames that you always knew existed inside the small business owner.

 A few minutes pass while you’re just content to watch, the knot in your stomach growing tighter as you appreciate the size of his shoulders, the strength hidden in the strong biceps, the broad, defined torso that you know exists under that simple black outfit simply by gut feeling alone. You are tempted to ask him to turn around so that you can also enjoy his backside.

“Ok.” He says in a breath that seems more like it was ripped out of his chest. Like a dead man last world. You like this analysis. But of course, he can’t have it so easy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear. Did you say anything?”

Osamu purses his lips in discomfort, almost bites his tongue in the process of not telling you to go to hell.

 “I said,” he entones again, though his disdain is showing. “Ok”

“Ok, what?” You press. Oh, the way how his veins bulge on his forearms when his nails press on his palms have your hairs standing on end. You blink at him with a smile, all too pleased with yourself.

“Ok, I’ll do it.” Osamu squeezes out, brows furrowed in discovering your intentions. You’re leering with wicked prowess. 

“I don’t think that's how you say it, Miya.” Your brows go up in the tiniest indication of irritation. Your voice is calculated, though unable to hide the elation.

“Ok… Miss. I’ll do anything you want.” The words come out of his mouth sounding nothing like submission and much like he just cursed your whole generation, teeth grinding. Still, it makes you smile. You don’t want to break his spirit -- that’s why you chose him.

“That’s what I like to hear.” You say, pushing yourself out from the counter where you supported yourself. Coat long forgotten on top of it, you cross your arms in front of your breasts, knowing exactly how you look and very pleased at the way his eyes ever so slightly thread down your plunging neckline. “But not so fast. I didn’t tell you I’d accept it-”

“Ya just--” Osamu almost explodes, the arms he holded closed in front of him being thrown in the air as if he’d be ready to grab you. You just turn a hand up and reels at how he actually shuts up right after.

“I just told you, you could pay me in services.” You continue, one step closer to him in your expensive shoes, plump red lips dripping wicked intent. 

“But,” You start, closer to him enough that your breath is touching his heated skin and you can smell the sweat his aggression produced, your mouth salivating at the thought of tasting it on his skin. 

Your finger rests on his chest and you thread it up while speaking, looking him in the eyes, so pleased at finding so much life in his usual dead stare, “I don’t know if you’re good enough for the job yet.” 

Osamu stares back at you, hands in fists forcibly stuck next to his body, feeling the way your hot breath trails on his jaw and hating himself for what it brews in his insides. 

You stretch up in your heels, mouth dangerously close to his, which rests ajar to let his breathing out, enough that he can taste your mint breath on his tongue. 

“I think I may need a little…”  Your eyes thread down to his mouth and then back to his eyes while you speak your next words, “--taste, you know?”

Osamu flexes his fingers, swallows dry around his closed throat, stares at your face -- so close the downright devilish smile on your red lips seems to narrow his field-view -- and he blinks. 

The Miya thinks how he wants to wipe that smile off your sinful lips. How he wants to have you trembling, unattended, and disheveled. He thinks about you begging with his name on your tongue, for a release that he’ll keep denying at his disposition. Osamu thinks about leaving you sore and marked, thinks about wrapping his hands around your neck to watch as you struggle, turning purple, life evading you while he fucks you; consider this may be the only way he’d ever had the opportunity to get even close to a payback. 

Osamu wants you to experience mind-numbing pleasure you’d never before, uniquelly brought by him… and suffer through the rest of your fucking disgraceful life without being able to taste it again once he’s done paying his debt. Because Osamu swears on his fucking name and whole life, he’ll never give it to you again.

He can see your future already and in it you’re fucked - both by him and for him, while he’s the one who gets away. The twin wonders if you ever lost anything like this in your life, can feel himself growing hard at being the one to make you cry. 

“Sure.” Osamu smiles, lopsided, the devil himself being safer than him. “I’ll give ya the taste ya deserve.” 

Your eyes press slightly closer in mistrust, the wicked intention pouring from his body so close to yours impossible to miss. Either way, it's your win; that’s exactly what you’ve been bargaining for, despite your game being rigged from the start. 

You bring your face close to his as if you were going to kiss him and you are delighted when his eyes go down, although not completely closed, his pupils focusing on your lips. 

You smile and retreat, turning to your men still positioned exactly where you left them, behind the bench where you were sitting previously. They remain so observant and sharp as ever, despite looking more like gargoyles than men.

“I’ll need a moment.” You tell them in a serious tone, calm. They both look at you for a second and nod, their stances changing very little despite it. You turn back to him but walk inside his establishment as if you own the place, pushing through the doors that lead to the back and inside his small, equipped kitchen. Osamu follows in silence, briefly wondering if he’d be able to snatch a knife and bury it in your chest. 

There’s not much outside cooking paraphernalia, with two big counters and taller than normal table in the center. You stop right in front of it, your hand threading over it for a moment. 

“That’ll do.” You say while you turn around to look at him. You look so strikingly bright in the middle of his rather normal kitchen, clad in both lavish clothes and unblemished skin; he wants so much to be able to say your sight doesn’t thrill him -- but he can’t lie to himself. 

But then you pointedly eye him and then the ground in front of you, “Kneel.”

Osamu considers his previous thought about burying a knife deep in your chest but walks, stiff, to where you indicated. He kneels with even less disposition than when he walked towards you, the descent slow until the ground’s hard tile is registered against his knee. He makes a point of looking into your eyes as he lowers, hatred overflowing in waves that seem to give you a sick satisfaction, your eyes becoming slightly out of focus.

The Miya’s about to ask what you’d want him to do next, like pledge himself or some shit, when your hands move to the hidden zipper on the side of your impeccable white pants. 

It drops to the floor in one go, displaying the graceful planes of your hips, appeasing spanse of flesh, a small triangle of silk hiding your most private parts. Saliva pools in Osamu’s mouth at the sight, his teeth pressing against one another to avoid betrayal. He’s still unsure of what’s his next step until your heel digs on his shoulder painfully, using him as leverage to prop yourself up on the high table. 

His eyes snap to yours while he bite his tongue to not curse you out loud.  There’s a gun on top of his head that is a big warning for Osamu to behave -- not that he’d have the chance to escape with the watchdogs outside his only exit. If he had, you could be dead already. 

Your suit threads up when you move up and slide on the table, the white silk panties peeking in between your open thighs. You move your beretta calmly off his face and thread it slightly, almost fondly, over your naked thigh. 

You make a small show of removing your finger from the trigger and depositing it far on the table, enough to be out of his reach and almost yours too. You look back at him once you’re empty handed and just so open right there on the table for him. 

“Behave, Osamu. You know you wouldn’t make it very far.”

Osamu grits his teeth but nods, your heel still supported on his shoulder but not digging on his skin anymore. You lay slightly back against his tabletop, forearms resting on the surface carefully. Dressed in a white, stylish suit like the last trend, the skin in between so bright it feels like a taunt, the curves of your breasts so ripe he wants to taste, the closed lapels looking like his own pathway to sin. He can feel his blood boiling, aggression throbbing, and he wants to paint you in red.

“Well then,” You start, happily above him, spread like a meal, “Show me if you’re good enough to pay your debt. Consider this your warrant.”

“Don’t worry.” Osamu drawls out with dripping distaste, his hand slowly, almost bored, threading up from your ankle to your knees. “I’ll fuck ya like you want it. Within an inch of your life.”

His hands lock on the back of your knees and he parts them forcefully, while you leave a yelp followed by laughter, your head thrown back with glee. 

You smell of flowers and spice, so expensive he was surprised that you weren’t dripping fucking gold. His palms slide through the back of your thigh and the skin under his fingertips is soft and firm, all shapes of heaven despite being in sole service of the devil. 

Osamu starts slowly, the table leaving you open just at the height of his neck while he’s kneeled on the ground, at the perfect height. His thumb presses on your skin while he holds one of your legs up, brings his lips to your knee. There’s a welcoming stain on your panties, and he scoffs at you despite the way his cock responds on his trousers. 

“I haven’t even started and you’re already wet?” The way you smile at him is both infuriating and bewitching. 

“What? Didn’t you enjoy our little foreplay earlier?” You tease him, plump lips locked under a row of teeth with mirth. His skin feels prickling and Osamu decides he needs more room, roughly pushing on your thighs until he can fit between them with room to spare.

It’s not fair, how good you feel, the delicious smell of your skin, the way your taunt alights him with fire in his veins. 

Osamu knows it’s bait -- and he’s willingly falling for it.

When his lips start to thread on the inner part of your knee and up, the twin does it with the intention to mark; he sucks instead of kissing, licks instead of caressing, and bites once he finds the plush meat of your inner thighs.

It stings and you let the smallest of sounds, but Osamu feels it in his gut, brings his hot tongue to soothe over it, bask in the way you tremble under his fingertips just enough for him to sink his teeth and revel in the pain on your groan. 

His nose treads along the furthest expanse of the joining of your thighs, touches the silk of your expensive panties, senses the way you tense and watches while your pussy trembles, even while still covered by fabric.

He considers holding back his tongue, but Osamu has never been the type to be held back by the threat of punishment. And you’ve shown to clearly enjoy his fiery side.

“Such an eager pussy right here, isn't it?” He threads his nose against the wet patch in the silk, carefully breathes against the covered lips. Osamu lets one of his shoulders bear one leg and brings his thumb to pass over the growing wet patch. “Sticky.” He presses it from the wetness to the place where your clit should be, watches as you respond to his touch with aborted movement. “Such a slut.” It’s supposed to be degrading, but there’s a hint of appreciation in his words that isn’t lost on you. “Is this all it takes for my debt? It’ll be finished in a second then.”

Your mouth opens to retort but closes in time to withhold a moan before it falls through your lips. His thumb’s pressing against your clit in tight circles while the index of his other hand threads over your covered cunt. Turns out Osamu has moves to back up the big talk. 

He’s methodical, clearly good and deft with his fingers, controlled pressure applied in a way that has you writhing on the table despite your intention to make this hard on him. Your desire to make him work for it, apparently, is no match for his. 

Osamu presses the tips of his fingers on your clothed entrance, enough force that it barely breaks inside you but the teasing has you churning on the table for him, legs trying to part beyond limits, body arching where it’s been relegated. Your chest feels hot and heavy despite the little clothing. You’re hoping for the moment where he’ll tease the hard nipples pressing against the flimsy lace of your bralet and the inside of your suit with the same intensity he’s depositing on your cunt.

Osamu, on the other hand, has no rush. You did this, gave this opportunity for him to wreck you, and he plans on enjoying it to the bitter end. He’s fairly surprised at how responsive you are, how quickly you melt for him, how vocal you can be despite doing little more than grunts and sighs. A thought flashes through his mind when he feels a renewed wave of wetness blossom against the fabric where his fingers are pressing, his lips turning in a self-satisfied smirk.

“Have you been so desperate for a good cock you’ve resorted to blackmail?” Your eyes snap open at his voice, a warm wave of something that you refuse to believe in being embarrassment depositing in your cheekbones. Osamu’s fingers prod harder against your entrance, fingers spreading against the wet fabric to your outer lips while his thumb keeps drawing endless circles around your clit. “Tsk, what a dirty move from an even dirtier slut.” 

He slaps your clit once, then twice, his bulking frame preventing you from closing your legs against the sudden pain. Your body trembles on unsteady forearms. You choke on a breath and then release a moan, the sound outrageous to Osamu even as his cock throbs from it. 

“Maybe I’ll give ya what you want.” The Miya teases, his voice sounding even despite the turmoil inside him. You look up at him with such eyes he could fool himself into thinking he wanted this. 

His fingers teether on the edge of your underwear, rough fingertips just daring to cross into the emanating heat. Your hips twitch, the emptiness inside you accentuated by your muscles clenching around nothing, desire pouring out against the prodding fingertips. Osamu snorts, throws you a hard stare that is equal parts fire and contempt. 

“You’re so wet. Are you enjoying this that much?” It drips acidic from his tongue against your neck, after he bends himself over you. From so close, Osamu’s warm breath is the same as a caress, his tongue teasing you with the way it threads over his lips but doesn't extend the courtesy to your skin. “You’re rather easy to rile up, hah? Or is it that you enjoyed playin’ with me before?” His teeth flash white above your head and you swallow around the desire of having them plunging on your skin. “How was it ya said? Foreplay, hah?”

You feel weirdly wound up inside your own skin, as if there’s not enough space and still a growing void inside you waiting for him to fill. It’s insane, it’s delicious, and a loud moan breaches your throat when Osamu plunges two fingers inside you without warning. 

Your body arches in such a curve your breasts press against his chest, the relieving brush too shallow to register in your brain when you’re hyper fixated on the sensation brewing inside you. 

It doesn’t even sting, instead you feel like your hunger escalates, fed by such little push that your want becomes need and for the first time in forever you actually consider asking for something. 

Your mouth opens, and Osamu snickers. “What?” He presses his thumb over your clit fast, relinquishes in the way you groan, feels the way your insides beg him to keep going. 

Still not enough though. He wants it ruined for you. 

“Maybe I’ll just make you cum on my fingers right here.” He spreads, scissor and twists them inside you, enjoying the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him at his every move. Osamu’s skin feels on fire, body overheating, and the way your lips turn up to reveal a line of white teeth in glee has his gut twisting. 

“You have a pretty loose tongue for such a quiet guy.” You look at him with semi-closed eyes, the victorious smile of the cat who got the mouse. “Maybe you like me more than you thoug--ahhhhh!”

Osamu shoves and prods around your insides for that special place even demons like you have and his assault is nothing short of merciless. Your eyes snap open at the force of his ramming, eyebrows furrowing at the way your pleasure seems to have forgone climb to skyrocket instead. Osamu watches in begrudging enchantment while your lips fall open to suck air into your breathless lungs and your eyes grow unfocussed, shoulders falling against the table so your hands can come to hold his arms but for what he doubts even you know. 

He’s not stopping. Until he does. 

You let out a noise like a wounded animal, tethering on the edge of mind numbing pleasure he won’t give you and when your body trembles from exertion of a denied orgasm instead of bliss, Osamu’s chest swells in pride.

“Whydidyoustop?” You lament in one breath, eyes are blinking back into focus, sweat and - oh he hopes those are tears - droplets dripping from the corner of your eyes while you turn to press your face on the cold metal surface of the table. “I was so close!” This time you rage, nails pressing against his skin enough to hurt.

“Wadidya mean?” Osamu tilts his head sideways, patronizing. “You didn’t ask for it. I’m just doing what you told me: being respectful.”

You laugh, still breathless, and turn to him in disbelief. “Fucker.”

“Not yet,” He corrects you, nuzzling his hips on your thighs. “Maybe if you ask nicely enough.”

Osamu retreats while you regulate your breath, letting your useless legs fall limp while both of his hands come to help your panties down, marveling at the way they’re peeled off your wet pussy lips. His cock aches and demands, but he’s used to reining in his dick. And he’s just started, anyway.

The Miya pushes you forward on the table, opening your legs wide like a treat. Your pussy is glistening, rhythmically calling for something to fill it while you leak. He plunges a finger back inside to watch you tremble, stimulation enough to make your eyes fall closed, long black lashes against beautiful sweaty skin. 

“Look at this.” Osamu plunges a second finger inside, opening them wide enough to sting. “What a desperate whore.” 

Your mind is swirling in urge, but you refuse to spill the words on your tongue. It would give you what you want, but at what cost? Osamu looks positively ferocious above you, dark eyes focused on your every move; it sends shivers through your spine, your body trembling and blossoming for him once again. You’re in your personal heaven, in company of the devil himself.

Osamu kneels again in front of your open legs, hook one on his shoulder while he holds the other thigh forcefully up with a grip so hard your muscle aches under his fingers. But you don’t care, in fact  you sigh “more” for him right as his breath teases your folds.

“No.” He tells you, two fingers pumping at leisure. His tongue slurps at your inner thigh, teeth closing in a bite with nothing to sooth. 

“Fuck.” You breathe out in a groan and his smirk is pronounced against your skin. 

Osamu, as you’re learning, is a tease.

His moves are soft, lacking in everything but aim; his tongue moves along the sensitive parts of your body you’ve never really cared for, like the plush flesh of your thighs, underside of your ass, the juncture of your groin. He has yet to taste you but you feel wounded, body constricted under weak ministrations, feather-like teases. It sinks with a piercing revelation that you could cum like this -- in an unfulfilled manner with not-good-enough touches that somehow have made your body feel raw like an exposed nerve in which the minimum touch would be enough to warrant waves of pleasure.

When his tongue comes to thread along your slit slowly, nose caressing along his way, your body clenches and threatens to spasm around unmoving fingers. You’re so close, so close, your body is ready to burst, fraying at the seams of a control you’re not using, your hands flying to try and find your clit at the same time Osamu’s eyes flash and he holds it, presses it forcefully against your belly while his lips slurp at your folds, circle your clit, but it’s so soft, it’s fucking unfair.

“Goddammit, Osamu!” You scream, enraged at the way your second orgasm flies away from you as his fingers leave your quivering hole, his mouth doing nothing more than lap at your overflowing juices with no real worry, no urgency.

“Oh, look at that.” The Miya smirks, drawing back up to look at your disheveled state; flustered, sweating, dripping and unattended. “You wanted a taste.” His hand comes back to your cunt, fingers thread along puffy lips. “I’m giving it to you.”

“You bastard.” His fingers leave your heat just to plunge inside again, a loud gushing sound following it. “Shit.” You sigh while falling back, and Osamu feels his cock throb once more at how breathless you sound. 

Your mind works around the feeling of being spread so far you feel as if you’re paper thin. Your mind goes rushing in its last attempt at working. Osamu looks self-satisfied, almost content, so you know where to hit. You want it, so you find a way to have it. 

“Oh, poor Miya--” You coo at him with a hoarse voice in glazed eyes, but the condescending tone is clear as day. “Are you trying to hurt me?” You plant a hand on his black hair, pulling at it enough to hurt.  “‘Cause I like pain.”

Fire explodes in his eyes and you tighten around his fingers in response, but other than his frown, Osamu remains calm. 

He slams three fingers inside before you can mouth any new words, smirks down at you with mischief when you tremble and bite your lips to hold the noises in, eyes falling back closed to hide the way they turn inside your skull. His other hand is holding your thigh forcefully open once again and his palm presses with hurtful intention, fingertips buried in your flesh so hard his digitals may mark you for days.

“Let you cum on my fingers and nothing else, is that going to be enough for you?” Osamu snarls against your ear, hot breath tickling your jaw. His hips hold you open to his assault at your pussy and his hand abandons your thigh to glide over your body and close around your throat. 

Osamu squeezes hard.

“Then again I could ruin your orgasm for the third time.” He bends over you, his lips right in front of your sight; eyes looking down at you with such fire you almost wonder if they’re the cause for the burn in your lungs. “Leave you writhing on the table, empty, until you learn to have a little respect.” 

This. 

Your lips spread in a smile almost maniacal, goosebumps rising on your skin as if you’re electrified. This is what you’ve wanted all along -- passion, fearless assault of words, electrifying pleasure; and also, the detachment, the murderous intent, all merging together in one perfect Osamu Miya. Shit, you think to yourself, at this hate you may actually come from his teasing alone.

“You talk too much for someone who didn't make me cum yet.” You pour gasoline into his fire. 

Osamu pulls you up by the lapels of your suit, button flying open at the hastiness, your breasts protected by such a flimsy piece of lace you’re surprised it doesn’t turn to ash at his stare. Your hard nipples mark the white bralet, the air feeling cold at how hot they are. 

A hand covered in your juices closes on your cheeks, forcefully opening your lips at the threat of pain, his fingers with lingering heat from your insides.

“Such a big mouth, should I shut you up?” Osamu asks you, eyes boring on yours. The plea is on the point of your tongue as if he’d shoved his hand inside you to yank it himself, and it tips out when his dark eyes steal one single snippet of your smeared red lips open by his hands.

“Fuck me.” 

He nods negatively, presses hard enough that your teeth could cut your inner cheeks. He relents and your tongue grazes your lips, moistening them for his eyes.  

Osamu smiles, a tilt of his lips up but so earnestly you’re almost hopeful, then: “No.” 

Even if as he says it, it’s a lie. He knows he’ll fuck you, but right now he’s enjoying the build-up, toying with you as if you’re his plaything and not the opposite. You growl and curse, head falling back when he palms at your covered breasts, push the lace up, hears the way it strains and threatens to rip. 

It’s oddly relatable -- Osamu also feels taut, stretched around a fleeting control that he feels will slip with one dip inside you. His past sexual experiences involved partners who he cherished and few one-night stands which, for the small time his dick was inside them, he was mindful and cared for their pleasure. 

Right now, while he pinches and palm at your body, he has not a single worry about your pleasure and all the concern about his. This is for him. He bends his head over your bosom, sucks a nipple inside the hot cave of his mouth and bites. As his cock twitches and aches inside his trousers, he relishes in the pained noises you leave, even when they’re marked by breathless arousal.

“You sure are fucked up. Look how much you’re enjoying this.” His fingers force the howl of your cheeks, feeling your teeth nicking the insides of your mouth even through layers of flesh. There’s an infuriating elation in your expression, and Osamu retaliates by sucking harshly on your skin, teeth finding soft places to close on.

You moan loudly and his hand slides back onto your throat in the motion. Your hand shots up from the table to find his hard dick and your laugh makes his blood boil. “Clearly I’m not the only one.”

His heartbeat spikes at the words, even if Osamu knows it. The twin pulls the suit jacket half-down your arms and slams your body on the slight cold surface of the metal table, noise sounding thunderous but still no one comes after you. 

Your skin erupts in goosebumps at the aggression, blood flying so fast through your heart you feel lightheaded. You’re about to spit some more fire into Osamu when two of his fingers gag you, other hand descending on your ass with such force and so unexpectedly your legs give out, dangling from the table as if you’re a ragdoll.

Something remarkably close to a whine turning sob slides through your throat and dies at Osamu’s fingers, just as something big and hot surges over your ass cheeks. Something coils on your chest, the emotion makes your eyes water and for a moment you blink it away, thanking the new position doesn’t let Osamu catch that. 

Too soon. Osamu pulls your head back as his hand peels the globes of your ass apart and before you can breathe, the little air inside you is being knocked out with one thrust of Osamu’s hip.

He forces his dick inside you, tearing you open as your walls make way for his aggression, wetness dripping while Osamu fills you to the hilt, because yes, that's what you want. You want his hate, his passion, you want Osamu to tear you apart while you enjoy every second of it.

“‘Samu!” His name is on your lips as your eyes roll back, whole body tensing until you’re falling, just like that. 

Then he retreats. “Fuck! Fuck no!” This time it’s a wail, a sob as your third orgasm turns to ashes, your insides trembling with nothing to hold, empty and meager pleasure. 

“Wha--Cummin’ already? Nope.” The twin laughs above you, hands tilting your head painfully back. “So embarrassing.” Osamu mocks you and you swear you can feel a renewed wave of cream slide down your insides to greet the head of his cock, nudging along your swollen lips. Your tongue feels so heavy on your mouth, parched and breathless all at once, no way out but silence. 

“You are disgusting, you know that? Such a greedy fucking pussy doesn’t deserve to be this tight.” 

Your laugh turns into a deep moan when Osamu hits deep inside you. “God yes.” You twist one hand out of the suit’s sleeve just to pull him by the hem of his blouse, your nails digging against the skin of his neck, blooming red yelts. “Talk shit to me Osamu. I know you have better lines.”

“Fuck you.” The twin spits, his hips pistoning harder against yours until he just stops the motion, leaves you open and gapping for him to fill you again. “Of course a pig like ya has the hots for humiliation. Look at that, the slut’s pussy squeezing around my dick because she thinks I'm doing this for her pleasure.” His hand comes down on the other side of your ass, where he hasn't hit yet. It stings, but the way his palm massages and grabs at it before almost soothes the burn. “Disgusting sluts don’t get to say anything, not even begging will get you what you want. I decide what you get."

You look back from your shoulder to see his cock is standing proud and angry, swollen head shining red and dripping translucent white, as if he hadn't been wet from your juices before. Osamu’s big, especially thick and he presses inside you again without giving you time to adjust, unforgiving pace right from the start.

You curse at the way one of your hands keeps locked behind you by your suit, your nails digging on your own skin without anything else to find purchase on; the other tries to grab onto Osamu to no avail, falling on the table to help support yourself at the strength of his pounding.  Your mouth is open, divided between sucking breaths and puffs of air. Osamu’s hand has since found purchase in your neck, the way he forces it back painful, the pressure on your throat growing and ceasing as he wishes. 

Still, you can’t think. Your mind is lost in a sea of searing pleasure, your nipples pressed against the metal surface as Osamu finally fucks you as you’ve been dreaming. No, maybe even better. The past men you’ve fucked had all been afraid of hurting you, careful with retaliation. As Osamu fists your hair and forcefully presses you against the table; you think you may be having a religious experience. Your eyes water from the force of his manhandling, tears spilling while you left unbelievable noises fall from your lips. You want to scream and laugh, a hot sensation spreading from your fingertips to your core. 

The wave of the orgasm is forming quickly, your toes curling against the insides of your Louboutins enough to hurt, the incessant pounding of Osamu’s hips against your ass sounding downright pornographic. As the peak approaches, doubt gnaws at your chest for the first time in forever. 

The simple thought of Osamu robbing you of your orgasm this time is enough to make your whole body tremble and recoil, your mind too slow to catch on to his intentions. You consider biting your tongue to hold the plea in, but as you bolt into mind-blowing pleasure you’ve never even imagined before, the alternative feels like dying.

You’re tethering the edge and you feel Osamu pressing harder against you, and you break. “Please!” You cry out, “Pleasepleaseplease, don’t stop.” His movements slow down and halt, and the hand on your ass slides around you, a single finger taps repeatedly on your swollen clit. 

“Say it.” He all but howls at your ear, bites on it for good measure.

“Please, ‘samu, let me fucking cum!” You beg but you’re already falling over, whole body shuddering just from the way he nudges his hips against your ass and taps on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Panic surges in between your pleasure that he’ll ruin this one when he retreats from your quivering insides, but Osamu rams back inside you with such power that your head rattles, hips hurting from the impetus of his fucking. 

Sound rings in your ear while you drown in the thunderous waves of your pleasure for what feels like forever. It flows and flows and flows to a point you can’t tell if you’re seeing black or just closed your eyes. 

Osamu watches, enthralled, how you go completely boneless under him. Your insides have stopped squeezing him tight but his hard, aching cock still throbs inside your heat. It’s honestly unbelievable how tight you feel around him, how fantastic he feels buried balls deep inside your walls. He had to stop trying to fuck you through your orgasm in worry he’d may cum. Poison and pleasure curl in his chest at the thought. Osamu feels like spanking you, choking you, to punish you for this undeserving heaven you have between your thighs.  

But he’s not done yet.

Osamu retreats, the slide of his cock leaving your delicious walls -- cold air from outside so less welcoming -- and you sag on the table. He pulls you up on unsteady legs and smirks, proud. Your bare feet touch the ground and Osamu spins you around, swallowing on a tight throat after one look at your disheveled blissful state, but then he retreats and let’s you collapse to the ground.

The image of your legs sliding open on the cold tiled floor, unsteady hands finding purchase to hold your torso up while your head looks up at him in outrage is one he sears in his mind, a wicked satisfaction sliding over his spine at the sight alone. The wreck of you at his feet, by his hands, nothing short of perfect. 

His cock throbs and pulses in front of your eyes, dragging your attention and Osamu steps closer, poses one hand on the top of your head, ruins the rest of your styled hair by dragging fingertips in it. 

 You’re still lightheaded, shockwaves making you twitch on the cold floor and Osamu is elated at how wrecked you look, makeup smeared, hair disheveled, body holded up by unsteady arms. Your lips are open, between breathless pulls of air and heavy exhales, but Osamu doesn't care, hands forcefully tugging your hair back and angling your mouth at his swelled cockhead. He counts as a win that you don’t bite him, your tongue threading flat on the underside of his length as he buries himself on your throat. 

There’s resistance, so the Miya retreats, forcing it back a few other times until it finally slides a few inches more inside. While he maintains the force over your hair, his other hand engulfs your chin, thumb breaching your lips to hold your mouth open despite the fact you don’t make any move to close it. 

It feels his chest with acidic bitterness that you welcome his aggression, glazed, tearful eyes looking up at him as if the fact he’s using you as little more than a cocksleeve is the brightest part of your day. Still, Osamu’s skin feels close to tearing under the sheer amount of pleasure flooding his insides. His hairs are standing on end, heart beating so fast his lungs burn, every muscle on his body tensed at his mindless pursuit of his high. He buries his cock deep inside the tight space of your throat, your gurgles and groaning enhancing his sensation. It looks painful to you to hold him inside, tears ending your makeup, face turning red at the lack of air. He closes both hands behind your head, making you nuzzle his pelvis even as your nails close on his thighs threatening to break skin.

He retreats to let you breathe just as your eyes go unfocused, feels something squeezing inside as you cough and wheezes and his throat squeezes a large gulp of air when you look up at him, tongue hanging out with a wide-open mouth just offered for him.

Osamu feels like hurting you at how good you are, infuriatingly obedient and willing to be at the end of his aggression. So he buries himself back inside at one go, both hands holding your head for him. There’s too much chaos inside of him, so he decides to pour some out through words.

“You like being used like this, huh? Like little more than a fucking cocksleeve for me.”

“What is it? Does being in power make you this needy? Does being wrecked make you feel this good?” Your groan makes your throat tighter around him, your eyes rolling back from his fucking and degradation.

It’s unfair, infuriatingly so, that this might be the most unbelievable great sex he ever had. 

Osamu can’t hold back much longer, everything feeling just too good, his skin burning at the stretch of the tourbillion of emotions inside his chest, the captivating sight of tears dropping from your jaw and coating your long lashes as your face darkens by the lack of air, swollen lips stretched beyond capacity around his cock while you willingly let him go harder, faster, into your tight throat. There’s a warm sensation flowing from his limbs to his spine, melting his bones and weighing on his balls until it spreads over Osamu’s whole being.

He pulls back from your throat in time but presses his hands on your jaw and hair to keep you up and open as he coats your wrecked face with hot spurts of cum -- the final touch to the perfection of your wrecked image at his feet.

It lands haphazardly over your lips and even your eyelashes, tear-stained mess of a face marked by his essence. Osamu tells himself he could never feel anything towards you, but for a second there’s a hint of territorial pride at how you look -- and how it is all his doing. The twin is still swimming in searing pleasure as you lick over your lips, hands almost fondly landing over his as if you're assuring him that he can let go.

He does, trying to step back and slowly descending onto the ground when his knees give out. His eyes are glued to how his cum is dripping from your chin onto your chest, how you bring your fingers to sweep over it and end it by cleaning the digits with your tongue. If Osamu’s cock wasn’t so spent, he’s sure it’d swell right back up at the sight alone.

“Can’t say what’s better,” your hoarse voice is barely above a murmur, “the taste or the feeling.”

As you’re standing on unsteady legs and already fixing yourself while he sits on the floor questioning his life choices, Osamu feels as if he’d made a deal with the devil, and you’ll be coming back to collect his soul.

“Seems like the start of a nice partnership, doesn’t it?” 

-- 

[writing-in-april]

Cinematic Coincidences

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

(Spencer’s POV)- listen I just love his POV lol

Summary: Spencer can’t bring himself to go on another date that’s been set up for him- so he stands his date up. Spence seemingly can’t catch a break and runs into the date he stood up.

A/N: Hey heyyy- here’s my seventh fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April!! This one was requested by @andiebeaword (I added a reference for your love of hallmark movies in this hehe)- this is the original request- I tweaked the characters involved just a small bit lol I accidentally end up defaulting to using the people on the dream team lol- im going to start working in later characters in the show into some stuff in upcoming works (I’m also rewatching the later seasons so that’ll help get me inspired) Im always looking for feedback on my fics or really to talk about anything with my followers so feel free to drop into my inbox- here!! Thanks for reading- y’all have been so sweet 🥰 and hope y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: Insecure Spencer, Getting stood up for on a date, Morgan and Garcia (just the team in general) not really understanding Spencer fully, one tiny sexual innuendo- I think that’s it nothing too bad this time around

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.4K

This was not what I wanted to be doing today. Garcia had once again inquired about my love life- along with Morgan of course, wanting to find out about all the juicy details. I didn’t know why they continued to ask when it was obvious that my love life was about as exciting as watching paint dry.

I gave my normal response to these types of inquiries, brushing them off without sounding too hurtful. Unfortunately Garcia would not be satiated by my response, apparently she was now fed up with my dull love life and felt like she needed to be personally involved. Garcia was very near and dear to me, just like Morgan, but I couldn’t deny that this grated my nerves.

“We’ll make you a dating profile too! Maybe you’ll find someone cute to date- or maybe get some?!” Garcia was chipper as usual, with her eyebrows wiggling at her suggestion that I should have a one night stand. All that I felt from her words was dread.

The dangers of online dating swirled in my mind and I tried to protest, it came out more like a stammer though. Morgan then patted me on the back and piped up, giving his own opinion, “Yeah- I think it’ll be good for you, pretty boy.”

Again I wanted to protest, beginning to stammer out another reason why I didn’t think it was a good idea. I sighed heavily when I was cut off again, by Morgan and Garcia already planning on what pictures they were going to upload of me. At least I knew that they had my best interests at heart, they wanted me to be happy with someone- or get some like Garcia had mentioned earlier. Still, it didn’t change the fact that there was no way I’d ever want to go willingly on a date with someone I had met on the internet.

—-

My thoughts had not changed since Morgan and Garcia had set up the dating profile for me. There hadn’t been any person I had been on a date with that had successfully been able to keep me interested beyond a few conversations.

“No luck with the online dating?” Morgan had teased when I had walked in with my head held low. This endeavor was just making me realize how picky and undesirable I was. Why couldn’t I just find someone pretty and be happy with it?

Morgan’s face twisted from a smile into a frown when I didn’t answer him, making my way silently to my desk.

For the rest of the day the team tiptoed around me, sensing my sadness. There was part of me that was angry at them for thinking that I couldn’t handle a few bad dates. But, they were right. I couldn’t handle the sting of rejection or the disappointment of a date that didn’t live up to my expectations.

Emily always seemed to know how to cheer me up, so I did attempt some small conversation in the break room while we were both getting our coffee. She never gave me any pity like the others who just flashed me sad looks, unwilling to make any effort to help- or like Garcia and Morgan, they helped in the wrong way even if their intentions were pure.

Her solution to my problem did make my ears perk up a bit, “Hey- I saw that you’ve been down and that it’s been about the online dating Morgan and Garcia made you get into.” I nodded my head in confirmation then gesturing for her to continue while I poured copious amounts of sugar into my drink. Emily opted for mostly cream instead of sugar, stirring her coffee a little, then continuing her thought,”I wondered how you would feel about being set up on a blind date. It’s someone I know so maybe that would make you feel better about going on it? Instead of having to deal with technology that I know you despise.”

Emily had a way of seeing exactly how I was feeling and not just spitting out facts without solutions like the others. Her solution made me nervous of course, there would probably never be a date that I wouldn’t be nervous for. However, this option made me feel a little bit more hopeful about my prospects in the dating pool. It was someone that she knew and trusted enough to suggest them as a potential match for a coworker. Emily didn’t trust easy, I could trust her judgment on this despite my nerves.

I gulped down a large sip of my overly sweetened coffee, collecting my thoughts before then answering, “Alright- I’ll go.”

—

The date that I was supposed to go on was at a quaint cafe near work. Emily had even made the effort to make sure that I had been there before so I might be more comfortable.

At first I had been extremely excited for the date, even going so far as to pick out my outfit. I would have worn my purple button up, that was the one I got the most compliments in. Emily had told me some stuff that my date was interested in so I made sure to brush up on my knowledge by reading about the topics. I had even called back to the restaurant menu in my mind, preparing myself by picking out what I wanted beforehand. On one of my dates set up through the dating app I had stumbled on my choice for food, making the person unnecessarily snappy. I had to cover all my bases to minimize potential awkwardness on my part.

Self doubt began to creep in after I had gotten fully dressed. I had gotten ready way too early in anticipation for the date, now sitting on my couch tapping my foot impatiently. I looked at my watch that sat over my long sleeves watching the clock tick closer and closed to when I was supposed to leave.

Biting my lip in worry, my mind couldn’t help but wander over into my self doubts. I couldn’t help but ask myself why anyone would want to date someone as tall and lanky as me- or why would someone want to go on a date with someone that couldn’t keep their mouth shut about random topics that no one cared about.

My self doubt swallowed any confidence that I had begun to build up in preparation for the date. I knew Emily would be furious with me tomorrow when I went into work, I didn’t want her to find out through her friend though. Deciding to get it over with I pulled out the phone I never used and texted her, telling her that I wasn’t coming. I told her to give my regrets to my date, who at this point was probably waiting patiently for me at the cafe. Sighing in defeat I then retreated into my bedroom again, crawling under my covers.

——

Emily hadn’t been furious with me- well that was a lie, at first she had stomped up to me the next morning to chew me out. She became more disappointed than anything when she found out my reasonings. She hadn’t mentioned anything about how the person I was supposed to be going on the blind date with felt. Not that I really wanted to hear about it, it would only make me feel worse. All I got from her was a small remark mumbled under her breath, “Idiots- the both of you…”

For the next few weeks I tried in vain to push thoughts of my failed blind date out of my head. I had avoided going in the general direction of the cafe. Luckily I took the metro everyday to work otherwise I’d have to drive by it every day, and I already hated driving.

I was at the bookstore for used booksjust around the corner from the cafe that was supposed to hold my date a few weeks ago. This was the closest I dared to go near it in a while. Since then I hadn’t been able to go there anymore, even though I loved the coffee there. Immense guilt had wormed its way into my brain when I had tried to order something there a week ago. All I had done was stammer at the cashier before bolting out of there, just another addition on the list of embarrassing things that I’ve done in my life.

I was flipping through an old edition of pride and prejudice out of boredom, there hadn’t been anything interesting stocked on the shelves since I had last been here. Then a voice piped up through the air that had a bit of dust flying through it,

“Excuse me, sir- if you’re still looking at that book would you mind if I looked at the ones on the shelf behind you?”

It took me a second before I realized the person was talking to me. I then removed my eyes from the book to blink up at them a few times, then registering what they had said to me and moved out of the way.

Their eyes were still glued to mine, the bookshelf behind me that they had wanted to look at forgotten. An awkward chuckle was all we both could seem to manage as we looked each other up and down. Emily had shown me a picture on her phone of my date so I would have been able to spot them at the restaurant. My cheeks flushed hard once I realized who was standing before me. There was no doubt who this was, the date I had stood up the night before.

Silence then fell between us and not the pleasant kind, it was most definitely awkward. I couldn’t imagine how they must have been feeling after I hadn’t shown up last night. They probably had sat

“Um- hi…” They spoke hesitantly, wringing their fingers in trepidation. My jaw opened and closed a few times, trying to come up with anything to say.

“Hi!” Was all I could manage to squeak out, plus a small wave in their direction.

They wrung their fingers a few more times, seemingly trying to come up with a response. I was surprised they hadn’t hit me with one of the books near them out of anger. It would be a normal response to being stood up for a date, the trepidation and silence just served to unnerve me further. Eventually they spoke again, saving me from anymore awkward silence which in my opinion was worse than awkward conversation, “Um- sorry for um, standing you up uh- a few weeks ago.”

That made my eyes bug out of my head- they had done the exact same thing as I had? Insecurity soon swept in, trying to tell me exactly why they had not shown up without hearing their side of the story. I looked down at the book I was holding, reading a few words for a moment of reprieve. Taking a deep breath I asked quietly, not admitting to my own faults yet, “W-why did you um- not go? If you don’t mind me asking…”

A deep sigh was what I got at first, one that obviously had a lot of stress in it. They then did provide me with an explanation, despite their obvious embarrassment, Well- It had nothing to do with you- a simple explanation would be saying it was my insecurity’s fault.”

Not that I would ever want anyone to feel insecure, but I would admit that them saying that did make my own stress melt away. They had not gone for almost the exact same reasons that me. I decided to be upfront, giving them my own reasoning- though I wasn’t even sure they realized that I hadn’t gone as well. “I don’t know if Emily told you, but I um- stood you up as well. It wasn’t because of anything bad! It was really for the same reason as you.”

They then broke out into giggles after they had processed my words for a second, which were much more relaxed than the awkward ones from before. I didn’t blame them, it was a pretty funny coincidence that we’d both stand each other up only to run into each other not knowing what we had done.

“I feel like we’re in one of those cheesy Hallmark movies right now…” Their comparison only confused me, I had no clue what they were talking about.

“What’s a Hallmark movie?” More giggles came from them at my questioning, though for once I didn’t feel like I was being laughed at. I felt like they were laughing at the whole situation, not at me specifically like so many people had often done. Also, I couldn’t help but admit to myself that their giggle was very cute.

Once their giggles had subsided a little they asked me something that almost no one would ask the person that had stood them up, “Maybe I could tell you over a coffee? If you want to of course- Emily told me about how much sugar you like in it.”

My interest was peaked, making me further regret having stood them up in the first place. Though I tried to push that thought out of the way considering we had both done the same thing. It was time to let that go so I could go on a date with them finally. Seeing them in person and being able to glimpse part of their personality made me want to know more.

“Alright- sure.” I set down the book I had been passively reading, now completely disinterested in it. There was something far more interesting in front of me now compared to a classic book I had read over ten times.

We both walked around the corner, to the cafe that we had originally had our date scheduled at. Conversation flowed easily between us, showing me that Emily had been totally right to set us up initially. Her words now made sense to me, we were both a couple of idiots.

We then got our coffee, which had been much smoother of a transaction compared to the last time I had been here. I took note of how much sugar and cream they liked, just in case we were going to do this again. Sitting down at the closest booth I then asked, “So tell me about Hallmark movies?”

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (Message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith 😡😡😡

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

[cirusthecitrus]

7, 28, and j for anilis and hec-tor, for the ask meme

Thank you for the ask <3 7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Ooohh that's an interesting one! I would say, for both Anillis and Hec-Tor, it's mostly anything about their old community and life in the temple. And since not that much time has passed since they left the temple, that nostalgic feeling is pretty quickly replaced by gloom and anger. For example:

- Before the beginnig of a any festival dedicated to specific religious holiday, markets prepare a special lenten menu, including lenten drinks. And one of them being something that the twins jokingly call "the bloody cocoa"*. At first the boys can't help but to laugh imagining how, if they were to see it, their old teachers would have a heart attack and then might even accuse the poor merchant of herecy. But the brothers soon fall silent. Yes, the recipe might be completely wrong, but they'd rather drink that silly "bloody cocoa" than be forced to drink each other's blood ever again. *I swear I'll explain what exactly that is in the second introdaction post lololol but in short the bloody cocoa is a new version of the traditional drink that was at first banned in their religious communtiy due to the drastic changes in the recipe 28. Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?

Definitely no. The boys can't stand being lied to, no matter the intentions. If they find out that someone lied to them, they'd either cut ties with them completely or put them in the bitch list for the time being (aka the list of people they don't trust and with whom they have to always keep their guard up)

If they're the ones who have to make the decision - tell the harsh truth or come up with a lie, most of the time the do tell the truth. HOWEVER, being a huge hypocrite, Anillis will choose to lie if telling the truth will get him in trouble and will affect his/the family's reputation negatively J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character? god hopefully i got this guestion right, srry if i didn't >< No? Not really? What I love and hate about Horde Prime is that he's such an ambiguous character and pretty much nothing is known about him. Hell, no one can even tell whether he was an actual spacebat or some sort of evil ancient spirit/cosmic god/parasite. Thus one can come up with literally any backstory for him and make their own version of younger Prime without excluding/changing canon much c:

As for Hec-Tor? Nothing in canon proves or refutes that Prime had a twin once ;) Plus, sadly, Anillis outlives his brother anyway, so Hec-Tor had long been dead by the time Horde Prime appears in the show, thus he's in no way changing canon events by his presence (i honestly don't even know if i should call this a spoiler lol)

[oftenderweapons]

heyhey! if possible, i’d like to place my order for a strawberry smoothie + spinach & artichoke dip + clam chowder + bbq sandwich. thank youuuu 💕💕

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Wordcount: 3.3k

Genre: smut. Final fluff. But mostly smut. Pining. Drabble for Bangtan Bistro

Rating: 18+

Tonight we’re serving

- Strawberry Smootie: Kim Taehyung

- Spinach and Artichoke dip: Smut

- Clam Chowder: “What do you mean my meal has already been paid for?” (It’s been rephrased for stylistic purposes)

- BBQ sandwich: Celebrity in Disguise (you need to squint but I swear it’s there just read till the end LOL disguise might have been taken a bit too literally)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: okay, mild alcohol consumption (wine, brandied cherries), swearing, dirty talking, heavy flirting, making out, oral sex (sixty-nine, face fucking male receiving), brief masturbation (male and female receiving), briefest mention of rimming female receiving (just a quick lick *wink wonk*), quite rough sex, manhandling, one degrading comment, impregnation kink and breeding kink, lactation kink (I guess), mild bondage (knees), outright ramming, cumeating and creampie. Final soft, sweet surprise I don’t wanna spoil, I promise it’s a good thing.

Remember to vote for next prompt here and here is my complete masterlist!

Also, lemme self promote my new Taehyung AU

Bfbfhreb there, ready to go! Enjoy 💜✨

Feeling the scorching hotness against your spine was exciting. His eyes were there, planted against the see-through back of your blouse and you could feel them like molten metal dripping down your skin.

He was following the line of pearl buttons tracing your spine, holding close the sheer peacock blue gossamer.

Taehyung licked his lips subconsciously, his mind already wild with pictures of his fingers snapping every button open, one by one.

“Sir, may I ask your order?” A waiter interrupted his musings.

The young man startled. “Steak. Rare. And… Uhm, you do have a Nobile di Montepulciano 2018, right? Just a glass. One for the lady at the bar too. Roasted vegetables with the steak.” He closed the menu and placed it on the table. He loosened his tie discreetly.

The waiter checked the wine chart and confirmed the order. “The steak right away? No appetisers?” He asked.

Taehyung followed you as a polished waitress accompanied you to a table across the room, the iridescent fabric of your top shimmering in a holographic effect under the soft light of the chandeliers.

“No appetisers,” he confirmed, his eyes never leaving you. “About that glass of merlot for the lady. She has moved over there,” he curtly indicated the direction with a nod of his chin. Looking at the waiter he searched the backpocket of his slacks. “Now,” He extracted his wallet, looking for a note and laying a 50,000 won piece on the table. “I know this might come off as rude but I’m asking for more than food, so…” Taehyung let the sentence fall eloquently. “Tell me something about her. Name, phone number, shoe size, I don’t care as long as I get to see her again.”

The waiter’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course, sir. She usually comes here with her friends, but tonight apparently she is by herself. They usually come on Thursday night.”

Thursday, of course.

Taehyung smiled. “Thank you. But I need a bit more than that.”

“I’ll come back with more, I promise.” The waiter bowed politely and left. Shortly after, Taehyung noticed the waiter walking to your table bottle in hand, gesturing to the other table as he talked to you discreetly. From the distance he could recognise a small smirk aimed in his direction, before you turned to the waiter, batting your lashes as you nodded.

He noticed a set of earrings glimmering like twin stars at your earlobes, while a fine thread of diamonds adorned your neck, matching the other pair of jewels.

The waiter poured your wine and leaned towards you, the epitome of politeness as he explained the situation very elegantly.

You were slightly surprised but didn’t let his words sway you too much. Keeping a sphinx-like composure you said something Taehyung couldn’t decipher from the distance, the waiter walking in his direction straight away.

“The lady said she is waiting for you to drink, sir.”

Glass half full, Taehyung lifted it in your direction, waiting for you to mirror the gesture. He cocked an eyebrow as you did, tipping the rim in your direction before bringing it to his lips and taking a small sip, observing your red lips lay on the glass while your neck stretched.

Watching your throat move as you swallowed was a vision too erotic for him to handle, and he politely fixed his stance, trying to alleviate his need.

Just as his steak was delivered, he was struck by surprise as the same dish was served at your table.

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought it a shame that you and him were sitting alone, ten metres apart at two different tables.

A part of him was pleased to realise that you had specifically asked his exact same order; however, his ego was drastically redimensioned once you started eating. You were a tease, licking your lips as the juices from the meat glistened on the deep scarlet colour of your lip tint. He felt embarrassed at the amount of details he could see now thanks to arousal, feeling like a predator as he studied your hands gripping the cutlery, your mouth opening wide for a bite too big, and the wine. He loved watching you drink. He loved watching the diamonds twinkle as your throat moved.

He was almost sad the moment he noticed you had both finished the food.

“Please, put the lady’s bill on me,” the waiter nodded as he took the empty dishes away.

“She wanted me to tell you her shoe size is seven and a half and that she doesn’t want anything less than six inches.”

Taehyung snickered and looked at the table cloth as he felt his cheeks blush. “I know I’m asking a lot of you, but would you tell the lady that I’m interested in another kind of number?”

“About that, she mentioned 100-85-120. I believe you can understand perfectly.” The waiter commented. “May I bring the dessert chart? Or would you perhaps be interested in today’s special?”

Taehyung nodded to himself. “What about your divine flaming cherry bites?”

The waiter bowed his head in acknowledgement. “For the lady too?”

Taehyung smiled. “Yes.”

The older man was glad to assist the young customer, not at all because of the tip — he would have considered it rude from anyone else, however the warm smiles and the way he used honorifics and register had the man trusting the wealthy, polished kid. He almost felt fatherly sympathy for the smooth charmer sitting at the table: he looked at the woman with nothing but adoration and devotion. There were at least twenty women in the room, some of which had way more skin on show, and way sultrier looks; still, he only had eyes for you.

Once dessert was delivered at both your tables, the flirting resumed, your instincts awakening dangerously as he made a fine work of licking his fingertips, stained with the chocolate sauce covering the brandied cherries elegantly placed on a small pastry basket.

It was your turn to catch fire as you stared at his deep, dark eyes, his unwavering glance, and the beautiful shape of his mouth, his brown, wavy locks pushed back elegantly. He looked like the devil.

And you had every intention of burning in his flames.

As you asked for the bill, the waiter shook his head politely. “The gentleman at the table over there has already taken care of it, miss.”

Your eyebrows shot up before you smirked. “Then I think I should stop by and thank him.”

“He’ll be more than glad, miss.”

“Thank you for your help. I hope your shift will proceed smoothly, mr Lim.” You rose to your feet.

“It is always a pleasure having you here. Greet your friends on my behalf.”

You chuckled gently. The kind, warm man had seen you and your mates come across the foyer so many times, for dinner or for drinks. He always exchanged greetings and was always happy whenever you asked him about his family and the business. “Will do. Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, miss.”

You took slow steps in the man’s direction, stopping beside him. “I believe I owe you a thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He said, looking up at you.

“What if I wanted to thank you.” You replied slowly and quietly.

“How?”

“An empty hotel room can be very lonely.” You said, looking at your feet and toying with a keycard in your hands. “I’ve booked a room to celebrate my birthday and let me tell you everything has been so dull so far.” You pouted a little before shrugging casually. “Maybe we could turn the night a little brighter.”

“I am a gentleman, I don’t really like visiting ladies in their private rooms.” He looked away theatrically. “However, how would I disappoint such a refined woman? And leave you all alone on your birthday. I believe that would be unforgivable.”

“Indeed.” You confirmed.

As he stood up, he placed an arm around your waist. “Sorry, I tend to be an old school romantic. Stop me if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I love a bit of romance.” You smiled at him, batting your lashes seducingly. “What brings you here for a lonely dinner?”

“Business.” He replied curtly.

You snickered. “Of course.”

“Floor?” He asked once in the lift.

“Thirty-fourth,” you replied, fixing your skirt.

“Pretty high up,” he commented, pressing the button.

You resisted ten floors before staring at his lips. By floor fourteen his mouth landed on yours, sucking your lower lip, enjoying the plumpness of it before he opened wide, his tongue sliding out and entering your mouth, tickling your palate before swirling round your appendage.

His palm caressed your side, reaching your asscheek and squeezing it, his throat emitting a low hum.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold on anymore,” he apologised as he parted from you once the doors dinged and opened.

You fixed your hair, his hand gesturing for you to lead the way — an excellent excuse to stare at your behind as you walked in front of him.

Once you reached the door, he kissed your nape while you slipped the keycard into the lock. His hands were already fumbling with the tiny buttons before the door would even buzz open.

“You can call me Nymph.” You said, as his hands proceeded working the small buttons.

“Of course. I'm Sir to you.” He stated sternly.

You smiled and shook your head. “Of course.”

You turned around and took off your shirt. “Get yourself naked.” You said distractedly.

He clenched his jaw at your command but obeyed nonetheless. “Nothing less than six inches?” He commented as you slipped off your heels, his glance following the red soles of your stilettos.

With a hand to his chest you pushed him with his back to the wall and teasingly dragged your palm all the way to his belt, lingering there a while before moving further down. “I’m sure you can deliver.”

“In kind.” He smirked, his eyes rolling shut as your fingers teased him over his slacks.

“Naked, now, sir.” You ordered.

“A hungry Nymph we have here.” He commented, undoing his necktie and throwing it on the bed. Next, he only undid the buttons necessary to get his shirt off. His undershirt was gone in seconds, just as your blouse and skirt disappeared, your body clad in a burnt pink silk slip.

Taehyung licked his lips and undid his belt, kicking his slippers close to the door before getting rid of his trousers lightning fast.

“Shall I get on the bed?” You asked, taking a few steps back.

“Oh no. Stay right there, Nymph.” He ordered, standing in nothing but his underwear before placing his hands around your waist and pulling you closer, kissing your neck, your chest, your hardened nipples hidden underneath the smooth silk. He began walking you backwards to the bed.

“Climb,” he purred once the back of your calves touched the mattress, making you turn to face the bed, your body kneeling on the comforter before he pushed your front down, getting you on all fours. He flipped your slip up, exposing your skimpy panties. “I’m gonna rip these.” he growled before biting your ass.

“Don’t. Just take them off.” You replied, turning around to look at him with imploring eyes. You didn't want to ruin the set.

He followed your request, immediately dipping his nose in your wetness once he managed to unstick the fabric from your folds. Shamelessly, he moaned as his tongue went from your dripping hole to your puckered one, laving it lewdly.

“Yes, Sir.” You keened, pushing back against his tongue.

He chuckled, parting from you, standing to his feet and taking off his boxers.

His cock pulsated painfully at the sight of you, at the way you stared at him while he reached the other side of the bed and laid down, settling in the middle, his erection right below your awaiting mouth.

You tried to lower yourself and swallow his tip, however he stopped you. “Get on my face right now, Nymph. I wanna see if you taste as expensive as you look.” He growled.

You simply licked your lips, his cock twitching as your hot exhale caressed his flushed skin. He was so veiny, and all you wanted to do was check if you could feel that against your inner walls. Straddling his face, you settled on top of him, not wasting a second before taking him in your mouth now that he was underneath you, under your control.

He moaned sinfully, his breath hitting your moist skin before his tongue flicked against your entrance, eliciting a contented hum.

For a few minutes all you could hear was the sounds of you sucking his cock, wet slurps filling your ears as your mouth became messy with saliva and his precum. At the same time, Taehyung was enjoying your cunt covering his whole face in juices, while some of his own spit eventually landed on his cheeks, coating his chin and nose too.

He was starved, shameless, wild. He parted from your folds only long enough to say 'naked, now'.

It didn't feel like there was any room for insubordination.

You freed his cock only long enough to remove your slip, sucking it back in your mouth before you took off your bra. As his hands met your breasts, grabbing them with thrilling pain, you felt him push you upwards away from his sex.

“I don't want to cum in your mouth. Gimme that tight, dripping cunt, Nymph,” he growled, touching your clit while his tongue teased the softest flesh of your labia.

“I'm going to ride your face, Sir?” You asked, feeling your breasts starting to bounce as your hips began grinding against him.

“Fuck my face, sweetness.” He replied, your body following his command straight away, your mouth opening in brainless, fucked out whimpers as your orgasm approached.

He kept going.

And even when you started to cum, he went on.

Even when you were humping against him ruthlessly, violently, he continued.

And when he noticed a second high take over, he outright refused to let go, no matter if you cried and begged and yelped.

He only calmed down once he felt you grab his cock and begin to stroke.

He slapped your mound violently, growling minaciously before he pushed you forward, on all fours, grabbing your thighs and opening his legs so that your front fell against the mattress once he pulled your knees from beneath you, placing your drenched core right against his crotch.

His stronger hand spanked your ass. “I told you I want to cum in your cunt and that's what you do?” He hit again. “Touch me so I'll have to cum on my belly like a teen nerd?” Another spank. “Hope you're gonna stay put now.”

He maneuvered the tip to your hole, sliding the head inside.

You purred and whined once you felt him sheathed deep in your core.

The angle was majestic. His upward curve teased the back of your vagina, rubbing against all the right spots, the soft head pressing against the inner nerves of your clitoris.

Just as you tried moving your hips against him, he sat up straighter and grabbed your hips, shoving you on his cock with breakneck speed, making your front burn with the friction against the sheets.

“Sir, please. Please it burns.” You called, desperate after a minute or so, feeling your control slip.

He gave a few more thrusts before he realised you had voiced discomfort. “Inside? Am I going too fast, does it hurt?” He spoke with tenderness and apprehension.

You shook your head. “My chest against the sheets.” You explained with a small whine.

He nodded and laid down,catching your leg and leading it in a half circle motion, helping you roll on your back as you unstraddled him.

However, his kindness was short-lived. As soon as he found your calves beside his chest, he grabbed your ankles and sat up, bending your knees and blocking them with his forearm; his free hand searched for the necktie and, once he found it, he expertly slid it beneath your legs, and then around them, tying a knot above the swell of your calves.

You stared at him with your mouth open, eyes wide and inquisitive before a naughty grin lit up your face.

He rose to his knees, crawling closer to you, bending your knees to your chest and letting your ankles settle over his left shoulder.

“Hold on tight, Nymph.” He said, bracing a hand beside your face as he lined his shaft with your cunt, sliding in effortlessly, grunting at the unspeakable tightness of your sex. “Fuck me so good, sweetness.” He mumbled. “I'm gonna rail you.” He groaned as he felt his balls tighten. “I'm gonna fill you up and watch those tits grow once you're full of my babies.” He teased. “Now you're gonna milk this cock and take every drop of my cum.”

You mewled at his sinful intent, squeezing round him and feeling his hand generously finger your clit.

“Please, fill me up. Please. I want to be heavy with your babies.”

“And you're gonna lactate them.” He whispered darkly at your ear, making the gesture feel so dirty, even though it was just natural mammal anatomy.

“I will, Sir.” You cried out, feeling your end tower over you.

“And once they're done suckling, I'll take my turn.” He growled. He had only maybe three strokes left before he would cum.

“I'm yours. All yours. Please, breed me, Sir. I'm yours,” you wailed, voice close to breaking.

“You are my horny little cumslut,” he snarled before joining your mouth with his, covering both your and his cries as you finally reached the peak.

His cock drilled deep into you as he coated your inner walls in cum, the hotness and stickiness of it pouring out of you and gluing him to your entrance.

It felt magnificent.

“I know you.” He whispered gently at your ear. “My most precious darling.”

You were still drifting ecstatically, your eyes opening slowly, lazily.

“Hello Lace.” He cooed at you, smiling softly. “Welcome back, my love.”

You mirrored his smirk and wiggled your feet against his shoulder. “Hello, my beloved fiancé. Would you please do me the courtesy of untying that?” You arched an eyebrow.

He chuckled and obeyed, almost expecting you to slide off of him; instead, you simply moved a leg to his other side and crossed your ankles behind him to tug him close to you.

“That impregnation thingie really got you going, uh?” You said, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

He nodded and kissed your chest, cupping it softly and pecking your nipples, your skin still flushed from the burning friction and the recent orgasm. “Even though I know you're covered, I find the idea so sexy.” He confirmed, pressing his face to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “You looked very hot in that outfit. It really made me want to seduce you all over again.”

“It was fun watching you act the part. You even tipped the waiter.” You chuckled.

“You told me your measurements, Miss 'no less than six inches'.” He kissed your earlobe. “Do you know they're the combination of the apartment safe?”

You laughed and then quieted down for a second. “I wanted to jump your bones the very moment I saw you.”

“Happy to know my future wife still gets the hots for me.” He commented, matter-of-factly.

You giggled quietly. “I love you.”

He combed your hair slowly, tenderly. “I love you too.”

[hcneymilkks]

Month

A fake dating au but make it marriage. Two best friends scroll on social media and notice a trend where newlyweds send invites to famous celebrities to see what will happen? An appearance? A gift? Who knows. For the two best friends, as a joke, set up a fake wedding and request the most expensive gifts with the option of money. Sending invites to celebrities ranging from Kim Kardashian to even the Queen, they are surprised and shocked to realize that not only were gifts being delivered nearing the “big day” but a request to be part of the celebration causes the two friends to create a fake marriage in the smallest amount of time they have. 

University AU! Aged-up Haikyuu Characters!

Fashion Designer/Psychologist Oikawa

Humanities Y/N

Rain splattered on the window, causing little droplets here and there to roll down with no hesitation. The quiet hums of lo-fi music made its way around the little bedroom, with vigorous typing accompanying it. 

Backspace.

Enter. 

Click and delete. 

Brain throbbing, a sigh escaping from the lips.

It was no use, the longer the computer was stared at, the more your brain felt like mush.

“Damn him and using me to do his research analysis.”

Speak of the devil.

“Y/n!”

You stood up, turning around and crossing your arms with a glare. There he stood, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with a sly smirk on his face.

Tooru Oikawa.

“How’s the report going? I hope to see it done by tomorrow?”

“Fuck you,” you strided over and pushed his arms, causing him to slightly lose balance. “Just tell me how you managed not getting kicked out yet. I swear you casted a spell on your professors or something. It's like you don’t do anything.”

He feigned hurt. “I do!” He whined. “Just not class related.” He pushed past you and flung yourself onto the bed, burying his face into your freshly washed sheets. “I’m designing a new clothing line inspired by the different volleyball team colours.”

“Is this your way at relieving the pain from not making it to nationals?” you snickered, remembering how pissed off he was after Ushijima told him he should have gone to Shiratorizawa.

“I-you little shit. This is why I never tell you things.”

“Shut up shittykawa you literally are making me do your research proposal. I know nothing about psychology!”

“I’m helping you learn a new subject! It’s time to look into your own brain and see what’s wrong with you!”

…

Three.

Two.

One.

“OIKAWA YOU LITTLE SHIT!” you flung yourself on top of him, garnering an oomph! sound. You smacked his back repeatedly. 

He let it have your way, already coming up with a counterattack. 

With stinging hands and shallow breaths after saying nothing but curses, you stopped and climbed off of him. Immediately, he’s on top of you. Pinning your wrists and getting dangerously closer to your neck. You couldn’t lie, he was attractive, but knowing him and his two-faced personality, you’d rather stay friends. 

But did you really want to?

A part of him knew you wanted him, but was that a risk you were willing to take?

Deep breaths. 

A low chuckle. “You love me y/n. I know you do, and I also know you’d do anything for me.” He smirked and pressed a kiss oh so close to your lips, getting up and dusting off his black shirt.

“I’m leaving! Remember, the paper has to be done by tomorrow!”

The door closed and for a moment you looked at your ceiling.

Eyes wide. 

Taking a pillow, you screamed into it.

“SHITTYKAWA!”

“Here you hoe, now for once in your life do your own work.”

You stomped into one of the many University studios, aiming the folder at Oikawa’s head much to his dismay.

“Thank you love you!”

You glared at him and waved a hand. “You definitely owe me like five bowls of ramen after what you put me through. I can’t believe you made me read so much on children’s brains and development.”

“I mean they said to choose something I liked, so children and volleyball worked together. Plus, if I actually had to conduct the research, my nephew’s volleyball club would have been perfect.” He finally turned around after pinning the teal fabric to the mannequin, striding towards you and ruffling your hair.

You mumbled incoherent curses as Oikawa picked up his sketchbook, writing down a quick note before closing it.

“Let’s go, I’m starving.”

The fragrant air of spices and creamy broth filled the little shop, making you drool. Grateful that Oikawa was rich, you took the opportunity to order almost everything on the menu.

“Y/n isn’t that-” you growled at him and he smirked.

“Feisty, you know I love that.” he winked and you gagged.

While waiting for the food, both of you were scrolling on Instagram. Having most of the same friends, it was no surprise that your timelines almost looked identical. Rolling his eyes, Oikawa saw a group photo of most of the volleyball players Hinata was pictured with, wanting nothing more than to squish the little one. 

But then something caught your eyes. 

You looked up at Oikawa who seemingly had the same expression, eyes wide, yet confused.

The dead groupchat came back to life with a link sent by Matsukawa, something about a bet.

matthewkawa 

Look at this lol

Sent a link

[Youtube storytime: The Time I Invited Drake to My Wedding (Spoiler Alert: He Came!)]

hannamaki

Wait why would someone invite a celebrity? Aren’t they hard to ask?

nishinoyya

Wait that’s cool! Asahi-san can we invite Jason Derulo to our wedding?

acai

Wait...what? What wedding?

y/n

Waittt i’ve seen that video

Apparently as a joke the person sent lots of invites to different celebrities. Most of them gave gifts or money but I guess Drake went

iwachew

LOOL IMAGINE Y/N AND CRAPPYKAWA DOING THAT

yoyoinata

I can see that woah!

milkyama

Psh! Flattykawa and y/n. I can’t see it. y/n deserves better lol

fabkawa

OI TAKE THAT BACK STUPID

y/n

Oi don’t talk back to my child like that shittykawa

fabkawa

Shut up y/n and eat your ramen

You glared at him before saying thank you to the waiter. Both minds now occupied with the creamy ramen and soft boiled egg. 

Flipping a page, you smiled. There it was, the fake couple who both fell for each other, breaking so many rules. But who couldn’t resist?

Oikawa scrolled on the computer, typing and clicking. He swiveled around in his seat and went over to you, peering over your shoulder.

You smacked his arm. “Personal space excuse me!” He put his arm up in defence, smirking.

“Remember the post Matsukawa sent?

“Yeah. So what?”

“I made the wedding on May 14th and invited some celebrities. Who did you want to send an invite to?”

You dropped the book. “Say what?”

Oikawa dragged you from his bed and sat you down on his uncomfy chair. Indeed, the computer screen showed a cheesy website where people rsvp to weddings. Already half of the groupchat accepted and you know this had to be a joke.

“Oikawa are you dumb? Who are you marrying? Wait no, who would want to marry you?” you looked at him and he pouted.

“Iwa-chan said no, Mad Dog scares me, Ushijima is definitely a no, so you’re left.”

“Who said I would do it?”

“I invited Stray Kids.”

Are you kidding me?

“This isn’t real, we’re not gonna really get married right? I mean if we were technically speaking, the wedding is less than a month away and we don’t have money, a reception place or any other sappy wedding shit.” You looked at the list and sure enough, Stray Kids was there.

“No y/n nothing is going to happen trust me. Plus, who doesn’t like free gifts? I tried to ask for expensive gifts and money because someone’s wardrobe and apartment looks ugly as hell.”

“You better not be talking about me bitch. I’m gonna set that sketchbook on fire.”

Oikawa chuckled. “Add some more people on the list, I wanna see how far this can get.”

“I never said I agreed to it,” you mumbled but nonetheless added in a few of your favourite celebrities, including the queen. 

After all, if this worked, free money. What’s the harm in that?”

A lot went wrong after that.

It was three am a week after the planning and your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Grumbling, you answered the call without looking at the number…..which was a stupid mistake.

“Y/N! HOW DO I CANCEL THE WEDDING?!”

“Relax Papi you said nothing would happen? Free money right?” you yawned not even realizing what you said.

Oikawa sputtered on the other line, shaking his head and ignoring how you called him Papi for some reason. “Yeah but uh...we have a little problem.” 

“Hm…”

“Jason Derulo accepted the invite ...and he can’t wait to see the ceremony.”

From that moment, you were fully awake. “WHAT?!!”

“What do you mean you can’t cancel the wedding?” you rubbed at your temples, losing more brain cells by the minute.

"Okay so apparently my last name is common around celebrities, seeing as my father owns different restaurants. So it’s not a surprise to them that they wouldn’t attend the wedding.’

“Fuck.” you breathed out. How did the both of you not realize this?

“Okay so um..what now?”

Oikawa ruffled his air. “We go through with it.”

"Fuck no.” 

“What why?”

You’re the one who thought of this crazy idea! It’s all your fault!” 

“But you’re the one who put Jason Derulo in there!”’

You smacked your forehead. “It was a joke and for free money! Look what you got us into.”

Yells back and forth, each blaming the other. It was like the night wasn’t going to end soon. Tired from the arguing, you smacked Oikawa’s chest. “Stupid,” you mumbled. “I don’t want to do this!”

Oikawa scratched the back of his neck. “But what if I want to?” You looked up at him confused. “You know, like how Hinata and Tobio fake dated but then became boyfriends.”

“Oikawa, that’s different. That’s dating, this is marriage. It’s adult stuff, I can barely cook!”

“I’ll cook for you.”

You walked away from him, going towards his balcony. The view was beautiful, seeing various stars and the lights shining from Tokyo. “This is too much for me to handle. You're a pain, you know that?”

He wrapped his arms around you and instinctively you snuggled closer to his chest, facing the view so he wouldn’t see your red cheeks.

"Remember when we were children? And we had a whole promise that we would be with each other forever?” you laughed. The classic child marriage pact. It was as if almost all friendships started with that promise. A promise to love and stay with each other no matter what.

“That’s child play.”

He started to rub circles with his thumbs on your arms, you feeling relaxed. “One month. Give me one month after the wedding. We’ll go on a honeymoon to London, I'll teach you how to cook, you can live with me, we can adopt a puppy.” Oikawa gulped and looked at you. “And if you don’t like it, we can pretend none of this happened. In fact i’ll stop bothering you with my assignments and my presence.”

One month. That sounded like a challenge. A challenge that Oikawa was willing to risk everything for. A month to make you fall for him.

“...so we’re splitting the gifts and money equally then, right?”

A/N: I’m back! This has been in my drafts for months. At first it was supposed to be Yuto from Pentagon but after getting into Haikyuu I was like fuck it and changed it to Oikawa. Also because yes LMAO. I hope you all liked it and let me know your comments! Part two will be in the works if people want it, for now its a oneshot aha. 

Much love!

tags: @babyworld , @bakuhoes-dumbass