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pin-k-ink · 3 months ago

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ROUTINE ⋆✦⋆ miya osamu

synopsis ➸ you thought things would be the same after six years away from Osamu, but surprise—turns out, distance really does make the heart grow fonder

tags ➸ kinda dub-con, best friends to lovers, sexual tension, making out, cunnilingus, blowjob, face-fucking, come-eating, dom!samu, unprotected sex, fingering, nipple play, dirty talk, praise kink, dry humping, breeding kink,

wc ➸ 6.5k

"Damn, I was wondering when you'd finally roll up," you teased as Osamu's car pulled up to the curb outside arrivals. "I was about to have them page you over the intercom like a lost child or something."

He shot you a flat look as you chuckled, sliding into the passenger seat with a dramatic flourish. "Yeah, well, maybe I would've been here sooner if a certain someone hadn't decided to bring half her apartment along for the trip."

You gasped in mock outrage, playfully swatting his arm as Osamu pulled away from the curb. "My luggage is perfectly reasonable, Mr. Smart Mouth! Not all of us can be professional minimalists, you know."

Osamu snorted at that, lips twitching upwards ever so slightly in that subtle way you'd always adored. "Pretty sure there's minimalist and then there's whatever hoarding problem you've got going on back there."

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly before both of you dissolved into familiar laughter - any last remaining tension from the years apart melting away in an instant. This was simply how it always was between you and your oldest friend, trading playful jabs and insults like two unruly siblings. The ease of simply being yourselves around each other again filled you with profound comfort and nostalgia.

"God, I missed this so freakin' much," you admitted once the laughter subsided, reaching over to briefly squeeze his bicep affectionately. "The whole sarcastic smart-ass battle of wits, I mean. None of my other friends back home could keep up quite like you."

Osamu hummed, the barest hint of a smirk playing over his features as he merged onto the highway. "You say that like it's a good thing, dork. Pretty sure half the gray hairs I'm rocking now are from all the stress of dealing with your particular brand of chaos all those years."

You scoffed dramatically. "Pleaaaase, I single-handedly kept you from being an even bigger stick in the mud growing up. You're welcome for helping cultivate your sparkling personality, sir."

That earned you an eye roll, but you didn't miss the undeniable warmth flickering in the depths of Osamu's intense stare every time he snuck a glance your way. Like he was just as pleased at falling back into this familiar banter as you were.

The rest of the drive passed in a similar fashion - full of laughing recollections of old haunts long abandoned and inside jokes so deeply embedded you were the only two people left who understood them anymore. Whenever a lull arose, one of you would almost immediately find some new embarrassing anecdote to poke fun at the other over, dragging yourselves into another spiral of cackling wisecracks until you could scarcely breathe.

It was only as Osamu navigated his car through your new neighborhood's winding streets that the conversation lulled more naturally. A comfortable quiet blanketed over you both, replete with unspoken depths of affection and certainty built up over literal decades of steadfast camaraderie against all odds.

When he finally pulled up to the curb outside your new building, you felt a bizarre pang in your chest - a reluctance to break this tranquil cocoon of nostalgia and easy familiarity just yet despite the obvious need to collect your luggage waiting in the trunk.

Osamu must have sensed your hesitation because he shot you another one of those subtle sidelong looks, pewter irises inscrutable. You maintained the heavy silence for another suspended heartbeat before gesturing vaguely towards the car's rear.

"Well...I guess we should probably see about unstuffing the trunk before the neighbors start thinking we're accomplices in some robbery or something, huh?"

His low chuckle rumbled through the space between you, rich and effortlessly relaxing your tensed shoulders all over again. "Yeah, yeah...I got it. You just sit tight and I'll start hauling your mountain of crap inside before the old guy veins start bursting too much strain."

You grinned and stuck out your tongue as he unbuckled and moved to exit the vehicle. Typical Osamu - always keeping things low-key and pragmatic no matter the situation, even when it came to giving you grief over your travel habits.

Feeling lighter than you had since initially booking your return ticket, you pushed open your own door and stretched out your travel-weary limbs while waiting for your friend to join you. Over the still-running engine's idle rumble, you could hear Osamu's telltale grumbling and shuffling on the other side of the sedan as he rooted around the trunk area.

You couldn't resist tossing another teasing quip over your shoulder. "Need a hand over there with my 'mountain of crap', your highness? Or should I just leave you to suffer under the strain alone a bit longer as punishment for the snark?"

You'd barely gotten the words out before freezing dead in your tracks, one foot already hovering outside the car door to disembark as your heart lurched into your throat. Because rather than issuing some characteristically dry retort or scoffing rejoinder...Osamu had simply appeared beside you in one fluid, prowling motion - broad chest heaving slightly and intense eyes burning into yours with laser focus.

Before you could even suck down enough air for a startled yelp, his calloused palm curved around your nape with surprising reverence and urgency - tilting your head just enough to slot your parted lips together in a scorching, fevered collision. One that robbed what little oxygen remained in your lungs completely as Osamu sealed his mouth over yours in a heated glide of rasping demand.

You whimpered helplessly against the searing onslaught despite every rational cell screaming at the sudden freefall. And as Osamu growled in response, tongue delving deeper to chase the trembling surrender in your very marrow, you found yourself clutching his shirt in desperation - torn between shoving him away or clinging for dear life in the rapturous storm.

Just as quickly as the explosive fusion ignited, however, Osamu was tearing himself away with a harsh inhale. You stared at each other in twin states of dumbstruck bewilderment - both panting harshly and thoroughly awash in the lingering aftermath of whatever that was.

Before you could unstick your frozen tongue enough to articulate the maelstrom of shock and confusion ricocheting between your ears, Osamu leaned in once more and pressed a single, shuddering exhale against your damp lips.

"Bags...yeah, lemme get those inside for you first," he rasped out in a wrecked rumble that made your knees go weak all over again for an entirely different reason now.

You blinked at him owlishly for a beat, still reeling from the molten collision that had just blurred every line between you mere moments ago. But true to form, your oldest friend simply turned and began hauling your numerous suitcases from the car's trunk without further preamble.

Despite the electric tension still sparking over every nerve ending, you found yourself falling back into familiar patterns without conscious thought - gathering the smaller carry-ons and preceding him up the front walk towards your new apartment's entrance.

Neither of you spoke a word beyond the occasional directional murmur as you located the right door and disarmed the lock. An outside observer would find nothing remotely amiss about the scene unfolding between two people who'd known each other longer than most could fathom.

Yet the lack of acknowledgment regarding Osamu's heated outburst out by the curb only amplified the sense of dizzying unreality now draped over your shoulders. Had that happened at all? Or maybe it was simply the thrilling first flickers of an intoxicating dream bleeding into waking life for once?

You couldn't resist darting quick, sidelong glances at him from beneath your lashes as Osamu moved about depositing your luggage throughout the front room. He didn't seem disturbed in the slightest - features settled into those same stoic, carefully neutral lines you knew better than your own reflection.

Only the occasional flare of his nostrils or reflexive bob of his throat as he swallowed betrayed the lingering heat simmering just below the surface each time your gazes happened to intersect accidentally. It made you dizzy, this bizarre vacillation from unholy passion back to mundane patterns - like a vicious rubber band stretched taut before snapping loose without warning over and over.

Eventually, the final bag thudded into the pile and Osamu straightened to regard you head-on once more. Any sardonic quips about your inability to pack lightly died on your tongue as you took in the weight of that piercing steel-gray stare boring into you with renewed intensity.

Before you knew what was happening, Osamu stalked forward in three prowling strides that should've had your senses shrieking in instinctive retreat. But all you could manage was a trembling inhale as he backed you up against the nearest wall with purposeful possession - caging you in on both sides with those powerful forearms.

"'Samu, what—"

Whatever feeble protest your addled mind scrambled to summon withered entirely as Osamu dipped his head and sealed his mouth over yours in another explosive, wholly unexpected fusion. You moaned outright this time, relishing the smoky musk and cedar wood notes of his scent enveloping you in a rapturous shroud as his tongue swept inside.

Osamu groaned in answering delight, drinking down each needy little keen as he set about ravaging you with delirious single-minded intent. One broad palm cradled the nape of your neck to keep you angled vulnerably for his thorough possession - tilting and angling your parted lips to grant him deeper access.

You clutched at the firm muscles bracketing your waist mindlessly, nails raking with every desperate roll of your hips chasing more friction against his undulating form. Only when your ragged gasps pitched higher in the rapidly fogging air did Osamu finally tear away with a harsh inhale - though he made no move to disentangle from your helpless sprawl entirely.

The weight of his intense gaze as he studied your disheveled, panting state robbed you of any coherent protests still rattling in the disjointed remnants of your mind. Instead, you simply watched in transfixed awe as Osamu leaned in once more to ghost a revenant swipe of his tongue over your damp, kiss-swollen lips.

"Tomorrow, [Y/N]," he rumbled in a voice gone to gravel and sin made flesh against the vulnerable juncture of your throat. "First thing, or I'm not gonna be able to keep my hands off you much longer..."

You could only keen feebly as his teeth nipped at the slender column there in reprimand before Osamu withdrew entirely on another scalding exhale. He pinned you with one final, simmering look that promised so many more unholy delights to come in its depths before turning on his heel.

"I'll see you at the shop for sure," he tossed over his shoulder in that same careless drawl tinged with husky promise now. "Get some rest while you still can..."

And on that confounding parting note, Osamu slipped back out into the shadowed hallway beyond - pausing only briefly to toss you one final lingering look that made your thighs tremble instinctively. Before the echo of his footfalls faded from your consciousness entirely, you were pressed back against the wall with leaden limbs and breath still coming in sharp staccato bursts.

What had just happened? Or rather, what cosmic floodgates had finally been irrevocably pried open in one heated, unspoken downpour that threatened to shatter every known facet of your relationship with Osamu entirely?

You had no idea. But one glaring truth blazed forth in blinding clarity despite your spinning disorientation still:

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough...

You tried not to dwell too heavily on the loaded implications laced through Osamu's parting words as you dragged yourself through your nightly routine in a bit of a daze. But no matter how you tried distracting yourself with mundane tasks and unpacking, flashes of his smoldering stare kept creeping in - stoking the lingering butterflies still rioting in your belly.

Sleep eventually claimed you in fits and bursts, restless dreams threaded through with phantom caresses and rasping whispers that left you gasping awake more than once. By the time your alarm blared into wakefulness the next morning, you felt more drained yet feverishly buzzing with anticipation than ever.

Getting ready on autopilot, you hyper-focused on simply making it through the immediate challenge ahead - seeing Osamu at his little onigiri shop as promised, as if nothing earth-shattering had erupted between you both last night. The entire walk over felt charged, every breath filling your lungs with the same heady tension that had cloaked over you in his presence since the airport reunion.

Except this time, you couldn't shove aside the implications behind each lingering look or simmering flicker in those intense pewter irises quite so easily. Not after finally shattering that fragile line forever with a few stolen, heated kisses that should've set your entire world ablaze completely.

The familiar ring of the bell above the door sent a little thrill through you as you stepped into Osamu's onigiri shop. Despite the lingering tension and unspoken implications smoldering between you since last night's...encounter, you were determined to simply enjoy being back in your oldest friend's presence again.

"Well, well, if it isn't Mrs. I-Can't-Be-Bothered-To-Call-First gracing us all with her presence," Osamu's rich baritone greeted you over the muted bustle of the small lunchtime rush.

You shot him a saucy grin, reveling in the familiar banter as you approached the counter. "Keep that sass up and I won't share the souvenirs I brought back for your ungrateful ass, mister."

Osamu's lips twitched upwards in that subtle yet utterly devastating half-smile you adored so much, eyes crinkling warmly even as he scoffed. "Like I'd want any of your weird knickknack junk cluttering up my shop anyway."

The two of you continued trading playful insults and jabs as you settled onto a stool, content to simply soak in Osamu's presence again after so long apart. Any residual tension from last night's explosive shared moment seemed to settle on the back burner as you fell back into the easy cadence that had anchored your connection for literal decades.

Osamu drifted back and forth behind the counter while simultaneously tending to orders, keeping up a steady stream of dry quips and smirks pitched just for your amusement all the while. You matched him step for step in turn, biting back laughter whenever his gruff one-liners proved too much. This was where you both thrived - bouncing off each other's sarcastic frequency with sublime ease and a profound intimacy that no years or distance between you could ever fracture.

At least, that was what you kept repeating like a mantra in the back of your mind whenever glimpses of that scorching intensity flickered through Osamu's gorgeous pewter gaze whenever it tracked over your features. A molten reminder of the unraveling tension you'd only just whetted the surface of the night before...

You tried valiantly to ignore the flutter of butterflies swooping through your belly each time without fail. Tossing out another sly rejoinder instead, just to reinforce the sense of normalcy and comfort this was all supposed to be about. Just old friends reuniting after too long apart, nothing more complicated than that.

Yet as the afternoon hours wound lazily by, you couldn't quite smother the rising anticipation prickling over your nerves anew. Osamu seemed utterly unruffled and focused on his work, but you felt his gaze lingering more often than not - studying you with an inscrutable heat dancing in those striking irises.

By the time evening rolled around and the last customers slowly trickled out, shouting their thanks and well-wishes over their shoulders, you felt strangely adrift despite the lingering warmth of reconnecting with Osamu again all day.

As your oldest friend waved them off with typical gruffness, you found yourself slipping back into the familiar comforting routines you'd fallen into while at his house a lifetime ago - gathering stray dishes, wiping down the countertops, straightening each of the comfy armchairs you both favored during quieter hours.

So absorbed were you in the mundane motions and reliving aged memories attached to every nook and cranny of the humble onigiri shop, you completely missed the distinct sound of the front door locking behind you. Nor did you notice the sudden weighted silence draped over the space like a physical presence until a solid wall of blazing heat pressed flush against your back.

You gasped sharply, frozen mid-motion before a large palm splayed over your abdomen - callused fingertips digging into the pliant give of your waist with delicious possession as your captor rumbled approval against your nape.

"There's my good girl," Osamu growled in a voice gone to scorching gravel that made you flush instantly. "All dolled up and playing at being the obedient little helper again for me...you know damn well that disguise won't fly anymore after last night, don't you baby?"

You trembled despite your best efforts, breath hitching as he nuzzled deeper into the fragrant tangle of your hair - lips skating over the thundering pulse at your throat in maddening prelude. Every powerful shift and roll of his taut muscle caged you between the iron brands of his arms deliciously.

"O-Osamu..." you somehow managed to whimper out, torn between protesting his sultry accusations or surrendering to the delirious current already pulling at your senses with dizzying force.

His low, dark chuckle reverberated straight through your attenuated nerves anew as one broad palm anchored itself over your belly, dragging you snug against the unforgiving planes of his chest in a slow, sinuous grind. You gasped at the unmistakable hardness of his cock etching against the supple curve of your ass - slick fabric doing nothing to conceal the virile intent radiating off your oldest friend in molten waves now.

"Such a pretty show you put on all day long, hm?" Osamu purred in a tone dripping with raw masculine approval - the other hand palming the generous swell of your breast as if to emphasize the point. "Playing coy and innocent like you weren't creaming those pretty little panties at the very thought of me pinning you down and giving it to you proper..."

Another whimper slipped free as his clever fingers rolled and plucked at your taut nipple through the thin material - teasing sparks of electric pleasure arcing straight down to your thrumming core. You instinctively arched back into the furnace of his powerful frame, head lolling as he lavished open-mouthed kisses along your arched throat.

"And you know what the best part is, my sweet?" he growled out darkly between each searing caress and bruising nips. "You never even noticed… how much I’ve been thinking about you all these years, just like this..."

Before you could form a single coherent protest, Osamu spun you effortlessly to pin you facing him - sculpted chest heaving and pewter gaze blown wide with unfettered lust and blistering possession. You stared up at your oldest friend in wonder, utterly transfixed by the unholy intent simmering in his every smoldering look and dexterous touch now.

This was your Osamu - indelible anchor and source of joy turned singular rapture incarnate, trapping you within the scorching gravity well of his ravenous focus entirely. And you'd never felt so deliriously desirous of sinking into its cavernous depths without hope of reprieve or salvation beyond what he chose to impart through the profane benedictions of his lips and hands alone.

As if sensing your silent, wanton surrender in that suspended heartbeat, the smallest smirk curved those full lips you'd already been branded by in delicious perpetuity. Osamu dragged the seam of his mouth over yours in a featherlight tease - tongue flicking out to taste the trembling whimpers he'd already coaxed forth so expertly.

"So what do you say, pretty girl?" he growled in a tone that promised euphoria and rapture in equal measures. "Are you gonna be good and take what I've been dreaming of giving you for far too long now, hm?"

You could only whimper and nod shakily, already undone by the sheer virile promise simmering in his scorching stare as he captured your mouth in a searing, unraveling glide of possession that ignited every nerve ending instantaneously. As Osamu hoisted you up effortlessly, strong hands cradling the plush swell of your ass and squeezing with unrepentant glee as you twined your limbs around him instinctively, the last vestiges of restraint and hesitation were obliterated entirely.

And this time, neither of you had the slightest intention of looking back...

"Mmm, there we go, baby," Osamu purred against the tender flesh of your throat as he strode across the modest expanse of the onigiri shop. "God, the things I've wanted to do to you since we were stupid teenagers - you have no idea..."

You moaned feebly, utterly lost to the sensation of being carried effortlessly in those strong arms - cradled and claimed so effortlessly in turn. Every step sent sparks of electric arousal skittering along the hypersensitive pathways of your nerves as the rigid press of his cock strained the zipper of his jeans, rubbing torturous friction over the dampened apex of your thighs.

You'd always adored his size and stature, but the sheer virility thrumming off Osamu's powerful form as he pinned you against the nearest wall and devoured your mouth whole was an intoxicating revelation in and of itself.

Osamu growled in wordless appreciation as you arched your spine and rolled your hips - grinding and squirming desperately in pursuit of more. He tore away with a harsh curse, pewter irises glinting with the same ravenous desire still pulsing through you.

"You're not making this easy on me, sweet girl," he bit out roughly, though his tone was threaded through with that same possessive approval.

He punctuated the point by pinning you flat against the wall, his larger body caging yours effortlessly as the rock-hard length of his cock wedged right against the sopping seam of your panties. You mewled, helpless and aching as the first hint of his impressive size and girth registered in the foggy recesses of your mind.

"Naughty girl, making such a mess of those pretty panties already," he chided, rocking his hips once for emphasis as you keened and shuddered. "What am I gonna do with you, hm? Maybe I'll just have to get a taste, see what kind of honey my sweet little girl is dripping just for me..."

And before you could fully comprehend the implications of his husky taunts, Osamu was on his knees - dragging your panties down your thighs in one smooth motion as he nuzzled against the soft mound of your pussy. The first swipe of his clever tongue dragged a ragged cry from your lips as you fisted his silken hair desperately.

Osamu chuckled darkly, lapping and slurping in filthy, wet strokes that made you flush hot with utter wanton embarrassment. He was licking you clean, tongue laving over your soaked folds and sucking them greedily - drinking down the slick evidence of your needy desire and groaning in satisfaction.

"So fucking sweet," he growled, gripping the generous swell of your ass and dragging you closer. "Been waiting forever to find out what you taste like, sweet girl, and it's even better than I ever dreamed..."

"O-samu..."

You had no idea what was even trying to tumble out past your wrecked whimpers, but the sight of his dark head buried between your quivering thighs, devouring your pussy like a man starved was enough to send you reeling. Osamu's gaze snapped upwards, glittering and predatory - a lethal combination that made you throb and clench hungrily.

"Tell me how much you love it," he commanded silkily, even as he resumed his relentless oral assault - two thick digits sinking deep and curling in a come-hither motion that made your eyes roll back instantly.

"T-too much," you whimpered, writhing and grinding helplessly into his ministrations. "Too good, O-Osamu...I'm gonna..."

He tutted, pulling away abruptly to lap at the creamy rivulets dripping down the plump swell of your thigh. "Already, sweet girl? But we're just getting started...unless you'd rather just cum on my tongue first, hm? Get a few rounds out of the way before I really fuck you how you deserve..."

"Please," you sobbed, shaking your head and reaching out to tangle your fingers through the silky tresses of his hair. "Want you, O-samu...wanna cum on your cock..."

Osamu chuckled darkly, peppering a trail of nips and kisses as he dragged his mouth back over the swollen folds of your pussy - lapping and slurping noisily. You moaned, arching back into the delicious torture as the tension coiled tighter, ready to snap and send you crashing into bliss.

Just as your release hovered within tantalizing reach, Osamu pulled away completely - leaving you gasping and trembling against the wall as he rose to his feet. You whimpered, feeling the loss of his wicked mouth and the sudden emptiness that left you aching.

"Shh, baby, it's okay," he soothed, cradling your jaw in a palm that dwarfed your features and kissing you soundly. The taste of your own juices on his lips made you groan anew, clinging to his shoulders as his other hand stroked your spine in lazy, soothing circles. "You'll get your turn, my sweet girl, don't worry."

Somehow, his raspy purr managed to ground you and center you once more - bringing you back to the present moment and the promise of euphoric release still waiting in the wings. You blinked up at Osamu, dazed and needy as you nodded slowly.

His answering smirk sent a fresh wave of butterflies swarming in your belly as he scooped you into his arms and carried you off once more - this time, through the doorway at the end of the small hallway that led to the stairs up to his apartment.

By the time the door swung open, your heart was racing in anticipation. Osamu didn't bother turning the lights on, navigating the familiar space with ease. A lamp flickered to life a few moments later, casting the cozy bedroom in a warm glow as he deposited you onto the plush duvet.

You barely had a chance to glance around the room, soaking in the subtle changes that had been wrought in the intervening years, before he was looming over you again - gaze smoldering and a hungry smile tugging at his full lips.

"Now, where were we, my sweet?"

You were all too eager to pull him down on top of you - mouths crashing together in a wild clash of teeth and tongues that only made the desire pulsing between your thighs that much more urgent. You tugged impatiently at his shirt, desperate to feel his heated skin sliding against your own.

Osamu obliged readily, stripping out of the offending garment and tossing it aside. His hands roamed greedily over your body, dragging the hem of your dress up and off in one fluid motion - leaving you in nothing but the thin scrap of lace covering your breasts.

The sight of his broad palms skating over your naked torso made your breath hitch, arching and shivering in response. Osamu took his sweet time, palming and kneading the soft give of your flesh, his eyes never once straying from the sight.

"Always so perfect," he groaned, thumbing over your taut nipples and dragging another needy mewl free. "Gonna make such a perfect mama someday, sweet girl. Fuck, I can't wait to breed you properly..."

Your entire body flushed with heat at the lurid promise - the mental image of yourself, full and heavy with his child, too enticing for words. He smirked at the visible reaction, tweaking your sensitive nipples again as he ducked down to claim your mouth in a possessive kiss.

"That's what you want, isn't it?" he growled against the swollen plushness of your lips, his hips grinding down and dragging the rigid line of his cock over your sweat-slick tummy. "Want me to stuff you full and breed you good and proper, my sweet girl?"

You could only whimper, nodding shakily as you fumbled with the buckle of his belt. "Please, Osamu," you mewled, tugging impatiently at the waistband of his jeans and boxers until his cock sprang free - long and thick and heavy and oh, God...

A guttural groan ripped free from the depths of his chest, his grip tightening as he rutted his hips - cock dragging over the soft flesh of your tummy, slicking it with beads of pre-cum. You shuddered, already feeling the pulse and twitch of his length as it throbbed and ached.

"Gotta get you ready for me first," Osamu rasped, pressing a bruising kiss against the curve of your throat and shoulder before rolling off of you and onto his back. "Why don't you be a good girl and help me out a little, hm?"

He was already yanking his jeans down and shoving them off his hips - exposing the sculpted v-cut that dipped towards the impressive length jutting from the thatch of silky dark curls. You could only nod, already leaning over and reaching out for the molten shaft.

Osamu caught your wrist easily, giving a gentle squeeze as his gaze burned. "Nuh-uh, sweet girl. Mouth only, got it? I don't wanna make a mess just yet, and I know you're more than capable of swallowing me down..."

Another rush of heat surged through you, flushing your cheeks with humiliation and desire as you nodded eagerly. The salty tang of his precum made your mouth water as you licked a teasing swipe from root to tip, savoring the musky flavor and relishing in the way Osamu hissed sharply.

"Such a pretty thing, just as hungry for my cock as I am for that sweet cunt of yours, huh?" he purred, carding his fingers through the disheveled tangle of your hair with an unmistakable possessiveness. "I’ve been dreaming of this for so long, sweet girl. Dreaming of feeding you my cock until I stuff that pretty throat full..."

You couldn't help the needy mewl that escaped, tongue darting out to lave over the crown once more before swallowing the broad head and suckling gently. Osamu groaned, hips stuttering and grip tightening as he forced himself not to thrust upwards.

"F-fuck, just like that, sweet girl," he growled, his voice strained. "Wanna feel you choke on it a little, think you can take it?"

You whimpered in response, relaxing your jaw and sinking down further - inch by slow inch until you could feel him nudging against the back of your throat. Osamu cursed, hips flexing instinctively and sending his cock that much deeper as you choked and sputtered, drool slipping down his shaft and coating his balls.

"Oh, f-fuck, sweetheart, look at you...taking my cock so good, just like I knew you would," he groaned, hips rolling lazily as he fucked the tight channel of your throat. Your jaw ached, throat protesting as he slid in and out. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, and you fought the urge to cough and gag. It was overwhelming, a sensation bordering on too much, and yet you wanted nothing more than to feel the hot ropes of his cum sliding down your throat and filling your belly.

Osamu's breaths came in rough pants, the muscles of his abdomen clenching and releasing as he drove his cock deeper with every thrust. His gaze was fixed on the spot where your lips were stretched taut around his shaft, groaning in approval when he felt the press of your tongue along the underside of his cock.

"So good, baby, s-so fucking good," he grunted, his hips snapping a little faster, a little harder, chasing the inevitable release. You swallowed and choked around him, gagging and gasping for breath, but still you sucked him down greedily - determined to make him cum.

You were a vision, tears streaking down your flushed cheeks, mascara leaving streaks in their wake as Osamu used your throat. And it was everything he had ever imagined it would be and more. The sounds of your messy, desperate little gags and choked off whimpers sent fresh pulses of pleasure skittering along his nerves.

His balls tightened, a familiar ache thrumming through the shaft of his cock, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. He fucked into the tight suction of your mouth, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat and forcing you to swallow reflexively.

"G-gonna cum," he gritted out, tugging roughly at the roots of your hair. "Want you to drink it all down, baby. Every last drop, just like the greedy girl you are. S-so fucking close..."

Your tongue darted out, lapping at the droplets of precum oozing from the tip and swallowing hungrily. Osamu groaned, eyes screwing shut and mouth falling open as his cock twitched and jerked - spilling rope after rope of hot, salty seed directly down the tight channel of your undulating throat.

You coughed and spluttered, fighting to swallow as much as you could, but Osamu held your head firmly in place, riding the aftershocks as he chased every ounce of pleasure. His eyes glinted when you finally pulled away, a mixture of triumph and lust making them glitter dangerously.

"Such a good girl," he crooned, cupping your cheek and tracing the swell of your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. You mewled quietly, tongue darting out to catch the smear of milky white coating the digit.

"Mm, so good," he growled, his cock already beginning to harden again at the sight. "But we're not done yet, are we, sweet girl? That greedy little cunt of yours is still practically begging for my cock, isn't it? Gonna fill you up until there's no room left..."

You moaned, nodding eagerly and leaning forward to steal a hungry kiss, the lingering flavor of his cum still coating your tongue. Osamu returned the kiss greedily, one hand fisting in the tangled locks of your hair, while the other tugged at the scrap of fabric still covering your breasts.

With a growl, he tore the lace, the shredded fabric joining the growing pile on the floor as his lips dragged over the tender swell of your breasts. Osamu paused, sucking and nipping a path from one sensitive nipple to the other before closing his lips around the puckered bud.

You keened, writhing helplessly beneath him, but the hand gripping the back of your skull held you fast. The wet sounds of his mouth and the occasional scrape of teeth was almost enough to distract you from the fingers that had worked their way between your legs - slipping and sliding through the sloppy mess of your pussy with ease.

"Fuck, you really did make a mess of yourself," he muttered, sucking harder on the swollen bud as his fingers curled and sank deeper, searching and probing with single-minded intent. "Bet I could make you cum right now if I wanted, just like this, huh, sweet girl?"

"N-no," you whined, shaking your head even as the coil of pressure threatened to snap. "W-want your cock, 'Samu...need you to fuck me..."

He chuckled darkly, withdrawing his fingers and dragging the slick digits over the plump mound of your breast - coating the sensitive flesh with the evidence of your arousal. "Don't worry, sweet girl, I'm not gonna leave you empty. Gonna give you everything you need..."

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was on top of you once more, pinning you against the mattress as he slotted between your trembling thighs. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your swollen, aching pussy, and you nearly sobbed with relief.

"Tell me," Osamu grunted, the first few inches of his length sinking into your welcoming heat. "Tell me you need me, sweet girl. Tell me who's gonna take care of you and fuck you so good."

"Y-you, Osamu," you sobbed, the sensation of being so completely filled already bringing the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes once more. "I n-need you...I've always needed you, Osamu, please, please, please..."

He groaned, the sound almost pained as he sank the final inch and buried himself to the hilt. You were stretched taut around him, a perfect fit for his cock and his cock alone, and it was so much better than he could have ever dreamed.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this, sweet girl," he gritted out, hips snapping roughly as he fucked into you. "How many nights I spent fucking my fist just thinking about you, wishing it was your perfect cunt squeezing the cum right outta me...and now I get to have you, fuck, I never wanna let you go..."

"Y-yours, Osamu," you moaned, clinging desperately to his shoulders as he set a punishing pace, the slap of his skin against yours echoing through the small bedroom. "Always been yours..."

He snarled, hips stuttering slightly at the confession. It had been far too easy to believe otherwise in the years apart, but with you clinging to him, begging and pleading for more, the truth was undeniable.

You were his.

Osamu was all too happy to remind you of that fact - his fingers digging bruises into your hips as he rutted into you with wild abandon. The bedframe creaked and groaned, the headboard thudding loudly against the wall as he drove into you with single-minded focus.

"F-fuck, 'm close," he panted, sweat beading along his brow. "G-gonna fill this pretty cunt with so much cum, baby, fuck, 'm gonna breed you just like I promised...get you all nice and heavy, m-make sure everyone knows you're mine."

Your own orgasm was barreling towards you, coiling tighter and tighter with every rough snap of his hips. His name was a breathless mantra falling from your lips, fingers clutching desperately at the muscles of his back, as if afraid that letting go meant he would vanish.

"That's it, baby, cum for me," Osamu grunted, a particularly sharp thrust striking the hidden bundle of nerves inside you that made you see stars. "Let me feel you cum on my cock, [Y/N]. Gotta fill this cunt up just right, wanna watch it drip out, oh, f-fuck, please...please, 'm so fucking close..."

It was as though his words had flipped a switch, pleasure pulsing through your veins as the coil snapped. You sobbed his name, clinging to him as your entire body shuddered and shook, muscles contracting and fluttering around the molten length stretching you so deliciously.

Osamu cursed, the tight, pulsating squeeze of your pussy proving too much as he thrust once, twice more, burying himself to the hilt as he came. Thick ropes of his cum painted your walls, coating them with a white-hot heat that had your eyes rolling back.

He collapsed on top of you, burying his face against the damp curve of your throat and muffling his own desperate cries as he emptied himself completely. The room fell silent, save for the ragged, hitching pants of your breaths as you clung to one another.

It took several long moments for your senses to return, and when they did, it was to the comforting weight of Osamu still sprawled across you, his arms wrapped around your torso and his lips pressed to the thundering pulse of your neck.

You sighed softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, and let yourself enjoy the warmth and comfort for just a little while longer.

The rest would come soon enough.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x reader smut #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu x reader smut #osamu smut #osamu x reader

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thisonehere · 4 months ago

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The Lin Kuei boys find your diary and learn that you're in love with them

Mk Headkanons

A/n: Here you are, the winner of my recent poll. Just a little fun headcanon while I work on another request. It should be ready by Wednesday or Thursday.

Tags: MK1, Polls winner, invasion of privacy (but their hot so it's okay)

C/w: None

Bi-Han

This wasn't usually like Bi-Han, of all things the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was, invading someone's privacy wasn't one of them. Until today of course.

Today was the 4th time in a row that you were missing from your training session with him. He would've thought that being allowed to train with the Lin Kuei's very own grandmother would be considered an honor. Yet here he was, standing alone looking like a fool waiting for you.

Bi-Han does not like being stood up, especially not by you. You whom he holds in such a high regard. He has so much respect for, he is generally fond of you, he feels things for you he can't even explain. So he goes to look for you, bringing him to your room.

He enters with even knocking, you don't deserve such a thing with how many times you stood him up. When he sees you aren't here he turns to leave, still eager to find, to let you know how hurt furious he is by your actions.

But before he can make it to the door, he sees something at the corner of his eye. A book. No, not just any book. Your diary.

Bi-Han thinks such things are stupid, and a waste of time. Nonsense made for children not adults. Surely anyone who partakes in this are ridiculous...But...this is your diary, and he doesn't think your ridiculous or a child at all.

He picks it up, showing care as he holds it carefully in his hands. He inspects from front cover to the back with a perplexed curiosity. Why would anyone have this? Why would you have this? He holds you in such a high regard that he views such trivial things as beneath you. What could be so important you would need have your very thoughts and deepest darkest secrets left on paper.

He knows his brothers wouldn't hesitate to open it and read. But not him though. Because unlike them he has restraint, he has strength, he has-

Bi-Han starts flipping through the pages. There has to be something in here that explains why you've so distant and absent lately. His eyes scan each and every word like they have a sacred meaning.

He especially looks for parts where you talk about him. Surely you will speak with utmost respect for your grandmaster. Maybe you explain why you've been avoiding him too.

Eventually he finds a part where you bring him up, he completely ignores the part where you talk about his brothers and goes straight t6o part where he is involved.

He takes notice with how you talk about him. You talk about how you felt butterflies in your stomach when you were near him, the way he made your heart race, the fear you had that he'd notice you blushing, how much you loved him, you wanted to be with him until the end of all time. You then go one to say the dirtiest, the most depraved things he has ever read in his life about him.

But Bi-Han reads on. He takes note of all the nasty things you'd like him to do to you. Part of him is slightly appalled. The other is very amused.

After staring at it for a while, Bi-Han clears his throat and sits the book back to where he found it and leaves.

From that point on, you can't help but notice that Bi-Han has been staring at you whenever you were in the same room. He is noticeably more patient with you than he was before. In fact, it's almost like he's being nice to you.

He has never really thought of you in such a manner before, but now, now you have his interest.

Kuai Liang

Like his brother, Kuai is a man very respectful of other people's privacy...sort of. Kuai will respect your privacy most of the time, he'll try to at least.

Kuai had been looking for you all day, he wanted to talk to you about a very private Lin Kuei business. He also wanted to see you again, just hearing your voice made his day better. But you were just friends so he never told you about it because then that would make things weird.

Kuai gets to your door and gently knocks before he enters. He happily calls your name as he enters. When he sees that you aren't present he disappointedly turns to leave. But he catches something in the corner of his eye.

He goes to pick it up, he doesn't really know what it is at first. He's not as familiar with concpt as Bi-Han and Tomas. So he opens it and starts reading. It doesn't take him long to figure out what it is after reading the first page.

After that something clicks and he goes to put it down and leave. Or that is at least what he wants to do. He is so tempted to continue that he has to remind himself how wrong thus is.

To continue reading is wrong. It's a violation of you, one of his closest friends. Besides, he is an honorable man, he believes in duty and respect and-

Anyway, now he is sitting on your bed reading through your diary like it's the Bible. He's basically halfway through the books so he convince himself that it's far too late to turn back now.

He is specifically interested in reading what you have to say about him. So he flips ahead to a writing log where you mention him. Kuai takes a deep breath before reading, he generally hopes you like him.

You talk about how nice you think Kuai is, how cool, also hot he is. Pun intended.

It took Kuai a few seconds to process what you just said. He reads on, finding more writing logs about him and they all say similar things about how attracted you are to him. He gets one specific one where you were talking about all the things you liked about him.

Kuai was overwhelmed with all this affection you had on paper for him. At the end, you confess that you have feelings for him, that you were in love with him.

Kuai couldn't believe what he was seeing, it was on paper in front of him yet he still couldn't believe it. He sets the book back where he found it and quickly leaves your room.

The next coming days were tough for him. Whenever he looked at you, all he could think about was your words. He was still in shock, this all felt so unreal. He stares into your eyes and wonders how long you felt this way, if you still feel this way.

He wants to come up to you, tell me that he feels the same way. But that would also mean he'd have to confess about reading your diary. Would you be forgiving if he tells you? Maybe, you'll just need time to forgive.

He will just fantasize about the potential future he could have with you if everything goes. Please, Elder gods of you're listening, let things go well.

Tomas

Tomas is a sweetheart, that is known. But he is also a very nosey sweetheart. Unlike his brothers, Tomas is a very curious person. That often is much to his and others slcurgrine

He comes to your room with the hopes of being able to hang out with you. Kuai and Bi-Han were always so busy so it was often you two who hung out the most.

Tomas enjoys the time he spent with you. Bi-Han and Kuai can often be pretty intense for him to be around, so he finds comfort with being just with you.

After knocking a few times he enters, much to his disappointment you aren't here. He goes to leave hoping to find you, until he notices your diary. It caught his attention the single second he laid eyes on it. He immediately recognizes what it is, he has one himself.

The thoughts of opening and reading all your dark and dirty secrets pop into Tomas's head instantly. I can't, he thinks. How could I possibly do this to you? I would be violating your personal space. There could be something in there that is really embarrassing, or be about your deepest darkest desires, maybe even someone you might have a crush on.

Tomas tries to fight off the temptation to read it, but he fails. He carefully picks up the book and opens it. Already he feels filthy with guilt.

He begins to look through it, every page feels like a sin to read, but he couldn't stop reading. The thrill of it all kept him going to the point that he already got through almost half of the book. He laughed at your most embarrassing stories, he felt sad when you expressed any tragedy or hardship you faced, he felt overjoyed at your victories.

He felt pretty good...until you began to talk about him and his brothers. At this point he got nervous at what you could potentially think about him and his brothers, especially him. It was pretty standard things, you thought Kuai was nice, Bi-Han was a hothead, and you thought Tomas was cute...wait...

Tomas's eyes grew ten inches wide at this. What? N-No, that's all wrong he has to read it again. Cute? What do you mean cute? Cute as in nice, o-or as in attractive. Surely you meant as in kind.

He flips forward, finding another log where you talked about him. Here you go into much more detail about how you felt towards Tomas, how much you loved, the way he made useful so giddy, you just wanted to plant kisses him all over his cute little face.

Tomas, jaw on the floor and eyes wide opened to the point of almost popping out, couldn't believe what he was reading. He cheeks were turning red with blush and he was without words as he continued reading. Okay, now he really regrets reading this.

In a panicked state, Tomas throws your book somewhere and runs out of your room.

The next few days were hell for Tomas. He felt like such a horrible friend. He betrayed your trust and privacy, and now he knows that you're in love with him. He feels horrible whenever he sees and remembers what he's read, how he invaded your privacy.

As he continues, Tomas can't help but think of you differently now. He fears that he's falling in love with you now. He thinks. He doesn't know.

Gods, he just wishes he never opened that book. Now he has developed feeling for you in such a rapid pace, he doesn't know what to do. Maybe he'll just have to confess to reading your diary.

He plans too eventually, the guilt eats him up every day. He just needs to work up the courage to do so. Hopefully you won't hate him, please don't hate him.

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leftneb · 1 month ago

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There is Something Seriously Wrong with this Logo..... Chapter Two

So. Lots of you have seen this post by my dear partner ( @lailau7904 ) in which the Williams F1 design team get absolutely torn to bits. In the case you haven't read it yet I highly recommend you do because a) it's really fucking funny and b) it makes what I'm about to tell you even funnier. Though you don't have to, this post touches on entirely different things still regarding this one goddamn logo.

The original post starts like this:

Innocent enough, we made an assumption in good faith that the logo displayed on the Wikipedia page would be the same one as the official version used by Williams. Buckle the fuck up because I'm about to tell you why that was the worst mistake we could have made.

Please. Please I beg of you keep reading this took YEARS off our lifespans. Like the original post was fun and all but it was merely the top of the iceberg. If this were an hbomberguy video this would be the part where he reveals that the background was a greenscreen the whole time. More below the cut!!! :333

The Truth

Already after only a few hours after hitting "post" on the dissection, people started pointing out to us that we'd missed an absolutely crucial detail on the Wikimedia page we got the logo from, pay careful attention:

See THIS?

Yeah this means that that image is not, and never was, the official logo of Williams. All along it had been the work of a Wikipedia user by the name of Juanchocarbonero. Here you can even see the (admittedly painful) history of the file as provided by Wikimedia, this image was uploaded all the way back in 2016, it even underwent an update when the team changed their colour scheme to a lighter blue without getting fucking fixed.

But to me the absolutely most painful part about this page is the "File Usage" section. Which gives you a quick preview of just how deep the goddamn disease that is this piece of graphic design sin really spreads.

And just to clarify: the official version of the logo used by Williams on merch etc is perfectly fine. It's a nice piece of graphic design. I still quite like it. But the story doesn't end there. Not even close.

Consequences

When you look up "williams logo" on Google the image provided by Wikimedia the very first result that pops up, if you're looking for a high-quality .png of this logo that, logically, is what you'll end up using. And I mean, why wouldn't you? What reason do you have not to use it? As long as you don't look to close (oops) it's a perfectly fine, high-definition, clean and transparent image of the logo! No shit people are going to use it!

But this raises a question: Why IS it the most widespread version of the logo? That's fucking weird isn't it? Surely if the actual logo used on ex.: the official Williams F1 website (which, again, is perfectly fucking fine) was available they would've just used that, right?

Now. Small problem. If you want you can go ahead and open whatever search engine you use, if you do that I'm gonna need you to type in "Williams logo" into the search bar, and just try finding a picture that is

of the actual official logo (you can tell the bootleg from the real thing by checking if the middle segment of the W has spiky ends or flat ones. We're looking for flat ones here)

high quality (no pixels or blurring visible to the naked eye)

a transparent png (none of that chequered background bullshit)

NOT a logo with any words (such as: Williams or Racing) visible in it. those don't count.

If you didn't feel like doing any of that, I'll just tell you the answer: you fucking can't. Nothing like that EXISTS. The closest I could get are these two, both of which are mid to ass quality, so they don't count either.

No sensible individual is going to scroll google search results for 5 minutes straight just so they can use a 200x200 image, especially when they think a perfect alternative is right there.

I even found several recoloured versions of the diseased logo, including one as a sticker on Redbubble! Fuck me that's a horrible sight!

The Search

Because I wrote the previous paragrahps after we'd figured out exactly what had happened, you might be under the impression that by this point in trying to answer the question "Why the fuck is that image on Wikipedia instead of, idk, the real fucking thing?" we'd at least established the existence of said "real Williams F1 logo". You'd be wrong, because for somewhere around 24 hours after we'd made the initial, horrifying discovery of just how fucked the Wikipedia version is, we genuinely could not tell if that was the official logo or not.

The ones displayed on their website weren't at all downloadable or even copyable, a non-ass quality of the damn thing just didn't seem to exist anywhere, so we didn't dare draw any conclusions. And we were still foolishly operating on the assumption that Wikipedia wouldn't just lie to us. (this is why your teachers hate it when you use it a source btw. like this is the ONE time it's actually been reasonable)

So, in the hopes of finding the offical Williams Racing logo, the non-scuffed one because clearly it exists, somewhere, we consulted an expert on Intellectual Property: my mother!

What this "consultation" actually roughly looked like was: we went on a walk and I started rambling about the Situation from Last Night before she cut me off and pulled up the website of the World Intellectual Property Organisation, aka the place they store all the Copyright information of like, everything.

BEHOLD:

(pictured; THE ACTUAL FUCKING LOGO I CANNOT BELIEVE IT'S EXISTED THIS WHOLE TIME)

Link to the actual real official legal document because goddamn this rabbithole just kept getting deeper so I like, have that now.

For refence, here is the official copyrighted version and the Wikimedia file overlayed on top of each other. As you can tell, it's disgusting. It's a poor, eyeballed imitation at best.

The copyrighted logo is horrifically low quality because, guess what, that image also isn't downloadable or copyable from the page. I really really cannot blame Juanchocarbonero for uploading his own version to Wikimedia because there legitimately does not exist a version of this logo that is freely available to the public. Like that goddamn abomiation is all we have. It's the effort that counts I guess.

My mother suggested that a possible reason for this could be avoiding the production of knockoff merch, or at least making it recognisable in case it is sold. Think about it, when your logo Doesn't Exist online, no one can use it without a license! It's kind of genius! I'm also about 99% sure they didn't orchestrate it so, it was good luck I guess?

interlude: How the FUCK does Copyright even work

I did immediately think to myself "we should REALLY fix the wikipedia version, like, stat" because I cannot in good conscience have this information available to me and not do anything with it, for the good of the people. However, this poses an issue: was the logo really not scuffed on purpose? Could it be that that version uploaded to Wikipedia isn't a 1:1 of the official logo because of copyrighting issues? To find out I had to look deeper, by comparing the official, website-available logos of various other F1 teams I came to conclusion that: [........................]

Yeah so I wrote that paragraph before actually checking for refences, but even after probably an hour of trying very hard to make sense of the copyright documents and copyright law in general we could not make sense of any of it. According to my mother (again, the closest we have to an expert, like she actually works with copyright in the context of companies but she's not specifically an IP expert. just to clarify) it's actually a lot worse for Wikipedia to have a falsified version of the Williams logo, than it would be to use the copyrighted version. This is because they're spreading misinformation by pretending that's the actual logo. And yet.

According to the Copyright Tag (the one on the top) in the Licensing section of the Wikimedia page for the thing pretending to be the Williams F1 logo, it's fine to use it because just a bunch of shapes. The thing is however, that it says that for pretty much every F1 team's logo, most of which are sourced straight from the official website. So this doesn't really mean anything tbh. According to our local expert (still my mother) it's fucking confusing. So I've decided to leave that at that.

update October 20th: as far as the Wikimedia pages on copyrighting tell me, uploading the official logo could, potentially, get me into serious legal trouble with Williams because of copyright laws. Which is still confusing because as said, every other team's logo is sitting uncontested on their respective Wikipedia pages. So basically we still don't know.

Okay. Backtrack. We forgot to ask something very important:

HOW?

HOW does one fuck up a perfectly fine logo THAT BAD.

WHY does one make their own scuffed tracejob and HOW does it end up like THAT. Clearly something must have gone horrifically wrong for it to end up like that.

I have a theory as to what might have happened:

It was either drawn or painted by hand, for a physical paintjob it's actually sort of impressively precise, but still objectively fucked. For a while I outright refused to believe that it could have been done in a digital program with the types of mistakes that were made, but you'll see this theory (partially) disproven later on so I retract it for now.

Operating on the assumption that it wasn't done digitally, a likely theory could be one involving a picture of scan of the paintjob. If the picture was taken at an angle or the logo itself was on a curved surface that COULD potentially explain the weird sort of slide everything has to it.

From then the picture might have been inserted into a digital art program, and the area of the logo might have been automatically selected using the magic wand tool, which could explain the weird growth at the top and that odd rounded off corner.

We also drew the conclusion that the file itself had been "tampered with" (aka cropped manually) by a human, because no computer would generate a resolution of 3356x2543 (you can that this is the original resolution on the Wikimedia page)

WAIT HOLD ON IS THAT IT?

The question of how the Fuck this guy managed to mess up the logo, and even more specifically why some edges were fine and some weren't (ant colony looking thing on the top left) bothered us so much that I at one point started just looking up "WIlliams logo" with the results filtered down to pre-2017 in an attempt to find when exactly the messed up logo was created. As if that would be any help.

Now what I definitely didn't expect to find was THIS

ENHANCE

Yes, you're seeing it right, THAT is the original 'Williams logo with the fucked up arm angles and lenghts'. Which PROVES that, contrary to our previous belief, Juancocarbonero was NOT the origin of the mistakes. Instead it was [checks notes] a DeviantArt user by the name of Nerdkid56?

The original DeviantArt post, which as of 9:47pm CET on the 13th of October 2024 I am about 90% sure is the actual first appearanace of the scuffed logo, is from May of 2015, which lines up well with the original upload date of the fucked up logo onto Wikipedia (November 2016). At the time that DeviantArt post was almost the only source for the logo.

And in the case you needed any convincing that those two logos are the same, here they are overlayed. You may notice that it's one shape (excluding the rounded corner which isn't visible at this resolution.)

This discovery is essential to understanding why the current scuffed version is the way it is. You might remember our confusion about the way some edges are fine while some are attempting to leave the image, the whole thing is a weird Frankensteinian amalgamation of vectors and magic wand mistakes. With this knowledge we can now assume that the mistakes happened in 2 layers:

Nerdkid56: likely just eyeballed the proportions. I'd guess he drew one arm before the other and flipped it around without really checking the angles. Also didn't give a shit about whether the arms lined up with the base or not. Legitimately bad design made in a digital program.

Juancocarbonero: why he used the scuffed W logo instead of the normal ones that were also perfectly accessible by 1 goddamn Google search is a mistery. HOW he even got access to it is another question I do not think we'll have answers to. And I've already explained some of the things we think may be responsible for the uneveness and bumps. Point is he fucked it up even more.

My theory for why Juanchocarbonero used the scuffed version instead of any other available picture goes like this: it was the only png he could find. Practically every other search result for "Williams Logo" that predates 2017 is a jpeg or absolute ass quality (sometimes both for good measure) so, despite it's flaws, Nedkid56's trace of it could have been the best option available at the time (the quality is actually very very good since it's a vector image, and I guess our friend Juanchocarbonero doesn't have an eye for design considering he didn't notice uhm, everything that is wrong with that model.)

Conclusion

The only way to right these wrongs is to go back, to the very beggining of this saga. Wikipedia. Williams I'm so sorry for what you've had to endure. I know what I have to do now. When I eventually make a proper vector image of the official logo and upload it to Wikimedia it'll all be over. And I WILL do it (but not rn this has already robbed me of like 3 whole days of my life. soon)

All of this is, admittedly inconsequental, but also absolutely fucking hilarious. Like imagine. you. one single guy, you make ONE mistake in a silly little "tracing this logo" project because you couldn't be arsed to check the angles of a silly little W. And some other guy, who you likely don't even know, over a whole ass year later, takes your flawed piece of design, makes it even worse somehow and uploads it to a site from which your little tiny innocent mistake becomes the most widespread version of a logo used by an actual real company worth over 700 Million US Dollars. HOW. HOW DID THAT HAPPEN. WHY HAS NO ONE FIXED THIS??? IT'S BEEN 9 YEARS

Just to give you a final look on just how widespread this plague is, here are some examples of media the fucked up version of the logo is featured in:

this Mr V's Garage video (the original reason we started this conversation in the first place)

the thumbnails of these two videos by Tommo, this one by FP1Will, and this one by RicksF1Addiction

such an amount of random places. likely fanmerch and fanart, and like, pretty much any place someone wanted to use the logo. it's everywhere. if you've ever had the Williams logo displayed in anything you've made I can guarantee you 99.9% chance you used the fucked version

and late thank you to everyone ( @bumblewyn @mid-nighttiger @vro0m @lemonsgovroom @mikraas @leclerced fucking hell I kept needing to add people to this list because compiling all of this took absurdly long) who pointed out our misconception in the reblogs of the original post and contributed to us actually looking into this further. and sorry to everyone for accidentally spreading misinformation lmao (it's too funny not to have been worth it tho) (ALSO it's not really our fault is it)

and to keep the tradition of ending on a live discord reaction:

#please please consider reblogging this if you read through considering the original post (as funny as it was) was just spreading misinfo #williams slander themselves enough already they don't need us to do that #f1 #formula 1 #williams #williams racing #williams f1 #james vowles #williams formula 1 #f1 analysis #technical #lai core #nebrain #neb50 #neb100 #neb200

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takes1 · 6 months ago

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p.2 asahi x feral reader w/ a size k!nk

this is gonna get so fucking good ya'll i love thisss!! it's fun writing this sweet guy be a little dirty lmao

warnings. nsfw. minors DNI info. nsfw / build-up to more smut / phone sex / mutual masturbation / blue balls / suggestive conversation / gentle giant!asahi / mutual size kink / sweet asahi / long-mid distance issues / kuroo's sister!reader / kuroo cockblocking / kuroo being protective / 2.3k words / multipart series so reply to be added to taglist! haikyuu collection. more hq here! part one here. part three here. final part here. more links. my ao3. masterlist. requests open!

Your pencil twirled, tap-tap-tapping against your half-filled page of notes as you searched for the next header to copy for this dreadful, draining history class.

Anything to distract you from the fact that he hadn't called you.

The game was Tuesday- now it was Friday evening, and still, no word from him. Maybe you had something in your teeth when you spoke to him, or you smelled bad, or he just didn't like your hair. You had dedicated hours trying to figure it out.

A phone call was hard evidence he was interested in you. Practically a 'yes' to your fantasies, which had only gotten more unhinged with the hurt of this perceived rejection.

He still remained just a few minutes worth of your real energy on some ordinary day. But God, how you mourned for what could've been. How he would've filled you up, wrecking you with the satisfaction and excitement you yearned for.

buzz buzz. buzz buzz. buzz buzz. buzz buzz.

The sound initially deepened your already lackluster mood, because you learned to be disappointed with every call that wasn't from a Miyagi area code.

You were grateful that your eyes happened to glaze over the screen before you completed the swipe to ignore it.

A piercing scream of delight filled your entire house through a cracked bedroom door.

Tetsuro's unwanted, grating voice across the hall shattered your elevated state of bliss:

"SHUT UP!"

"YOU SHUT UP! I'M ON THE PHONE!"

You took a deep breath on the fifth ring and, shaking off the nerves by standing up out of your swivel chair, you swiped across the screen to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, is this (Y/n)?" A deep, rumbly voice made your knees weak.

"Y-es," Your voice cracked, tummy tingly, "Is this- Asahi?"

His name left your lips so well. You fell onto your back on your bed, pressing your thighs together at the sound of his reply.

"Yeah, that's me."

You hadn't heard his voice before, thinking hard about it now, because he didn't say anything to you in person.

"I thought you wouldn't call," You bit your lip in restraint, but kept the tension in your belly, "Why'd you keep me waiting for so long?"

A grumbly sigh on the other end gave you a full-body shiver. You crossed your legs.

"I was nervous," He admitted.

The giant did have a heart, after all. Curious, you smiled and looked up.

Your face fell.

"Get out of my room!" You shouted at Tetsuro, who was lingering in the doorway.

"How long have you been in here?!"

"I'm not in your room," He tested you by putting a foot inside, and didn't answer your question, instead pressing his own, "Who the hell are you talking to?"

It reminded you: A quick 'Hold on' and what you thought was the mute button--

You scrambled across your bed to the doorway to close it, but he dove out of the way and you ended up shutting him in. You flung it open again.

"Get out!!"

The demon-spawn was making for your phone, so you leaped onto his back and weighed him down to the floor instead.

"It better not be--," He grunted with effort as he shoved you off by the face, "Some country-bumpkin prick!"

There was no contact on the screen, so he couldn't be sure who you were talking to even with your phone in his hand.

"Who is this?" He interrogated, his torso leaning on your bed, his knee on your chest to keep you down.

You punched his leg over, over, and over again. He swatted at you while looking at your phone to figure out why nobody was responding to him.

It gave you the opportunity to push him off while his balance was uneven. You slapped your phone out of his hand and it clattered to the floor.

There was a violent hush over the two of you.

Tetsuro rose of his own accord, dodging a slap, and kicked your phone far under your bed with a grumble.

"Like I'm gonna just let that happen."

The door slammed behind him. You skittered up, opened it, then called after him, "Stay out!!"

You made sure to lock and barricade it this time.

When you leaned down to find your phone, it was impossible to reach with your hands or legs from either side of the bed. That asshole had made sure to kick it just far enough to make you get creative.

You had to tie together a ruler and a clothing hanger to retrieve it, then use your foot to leverage it out.

To your relief, the call was still active. But it wasn't muted.

Heart sunk halfway down your ribcage, you asked a grim question, "How much of that did you hear?"

His chuckle lifted your spirits instantly.

Almost as a conditioned response, you glanced to the door. It was still secure.

"I'm so sorry, my brother is the worst." You grumbled, climbing back into your bed with a sore face, hand, and knee.

Asahi's tone was clear and smooth.

"It sounds like he just wants to keep you out of trouble."

Your body jumpstarted again at that word. You wanted all the trouble he had to offer. You couldn't help but giggle, since his response sounded as if he was referring to himself.

"I know how to handle myself," You grinned, "I'm only a year younger than him."

"He's a senior, isn't he?"

"Mhm."

"So you're a second-year."

"Mhmm," You could listen to him talk all day. Your hand rubbed over your prickled chest, savoring his voice against your ear.

"Good. I feel like less of a creep, now."

In his admission you could hear his lips curl into a smile- your covered your mouth and kicked your legs in the air.

"Don't tell me you thought I was a first-year," You teased with false surprise.

"I-," He sighed, a little labored, and something shifted against the receiver, "Knew it was a possibility."

His standards aside, your interest moved to the extra sound on his end of the line. You prayed it was something risque.

"What else do you wanna know about me?" You stretched your legs up and watched your blank ceiling, biting your lip in wait for his response.

The way he towered over you- his frame was perfect for your fantasies. You imagined him leaning over you now, legs draped over his massive shoulders.

"What made you want to give me your number?"

Another shift, a heavy sigh. You couldn't raise the volume any higher, nor could you hold the phone any closer to your ear to try to hear what he was doing.

In the hopes that he was dirtier than he wanted to let on, you smiled at the freedom to paint his imagination.

"Hmm..." You drawled.

An eager hand dipped between your legs, with one last glance to the door, and you palmed yourself through your shorts while you spoke.

"Your serve really did it for me," As you recalled that last hit, you heard him shift again, "I like your look- y'know, the whole samurai vibe--,"

Asahi laughed a little, making you grin.

"-I think it's really hot."

A pause. "Wait- really?"

"Yeah!" You giggled, "You're a good mix of cute and scary, that's a huge turn-on."

"Wow."

Maybe it was a bit forward of you to say, but so was everything else until this point. Your breath stalled, hoping that was a good wow. It felt so quiet for so long. Everything was still on both sides.

You sat up after a few moments, pulse quickening, and you bit your finger to keep from blurting out another stupid claim. It must've been too much- you were just about to hang up when you heard a quiet, different tone through the speaker.

"What are you wearing right now?"

Mouth open, you made sure to click mute before squealing into your pillow-- when you came up, teary-eyed from the pressure and excitement, you had to catch your breath.

Your voice was slightly hoarse when you unmuted yourself and asked, calmly, "Do you want me to lie to you?"

Thrown in a dumbing whirl of arousal, you went to reach for a vibrator, but realized the sound would probably be too much. You opted for your own fingers instead and tried hard to visualize his heavy hand over yours.

"Shit-," He huffed an uneven sigh, "Go for it."

Did he have any idea how sexy he sounded? You hoped he did- you hoped he knew exactly how to touch you, pleasure you, break you, then put you back together.

Your raised, flirty tone didn't match your answer, "Nothing."

The rumble of his laugh guided your hand to swirl small, soft circles around your clit. Your chest rose and fell a little faster, chasing the budding tightness that was finally coming back to you.

"What are you doing right now?" You couldn't help but ask. It was too tempting to wait around for him to tell you.

"Mm, I'm talkin' to you," He evaded. His smirk was audible through the phone.

His slight regional accent was so perfect. To Hell with city boys, you wanted this big, gruff countryside boy.

He laughed at your whine.

"I wish you weren't so far away," His tone lowered to a bare mutter- it was dripping in lust, but he covered it with a thin veil of wariness.

Your fingers felt so good, but his reminder only made you more sensitive to how you could never fulfill the ache deep inside without him right here, in Tokyo.

You could appreciate how he still kept his cards close. You weren't as patient as him- but upon your inevitable frustration that he wasn't as candid as you, the realization that it was the safer outcome dawned on you. If he wasn't so careful, he might hurt you.

Still, you were riding gentle, pleasant waves while you daydreamed through your response.

"How long would a train ride be?"

He didn't have to tell you how pretty you sounded for you to know. The little raise at the end of your sentence, the tiny waiver in your voice, you knew he liked it.

The quiet seethe on his end confirmed this. He told you without having to look it up, "Hour and a half."

Your pussy practically shut down.

"I could do that," You lied. Your brother would explode if he found out you hopped on a bullet train by yourself to go see some Karasuno boy- and he would. He always did.

Another low laugh. It fixed everything. You threw your head back again, fingers in your mouth so your fingers could slide a little better.

"Don't sound so disappointed," He cooed, "Me and the guys are gonna be in town for the weekend- and I was just thinkin'--,"

"Oh my god, yes. Whatever you're about to say, yes."

His distant 'Damn' away from the phone made you blush. You stopped touching yourself, just for the time being.

"There's just one problem."

You waited for the reveal without responding, then realized he wanted you to ask him.

"What?" You giggled at the weird pause.

His laugh was faint through the rest of his point, "Your brother."

You squinted at your ceiling again with a grumpy sigh. He was right. In fact, you were sure he didn't know the extent of how right he was. Your family was on Life360, and he had your location at all times.

If you turned your phone off, or deleted the app, or put it on 'battery saving-mode' he'd know, and it would be more ground to question you on.

It wasn't the tattling that bothered you, it was his nosiness in the first place.

The last time you snuck out to go see a boy further in the city, he followed you and ruined your movie date by kicking the back of his chair for half of the film. He drove you home and grilled you the entire way back.

"Fuck," You sighed, sitting up with a bit of a tummy-ache from your abandoned orgasm, "Yeah."

It sounded like he was moving again, but he was less flirty, and it made you think he maybe put his dick back up to think better.

"He actually called our team captain, Daichi. We were uh, still on the way back from the game. On the bus. And he put it on speaker."

Your jaw dropped again.

"Said he'd- ha-ha, he said he'd castrate anyone who touched you."

An annoyed sound left you.

"Don't tell me you believe that," You laughed pitifully.

Part of you believed it, so you wouldn't blame him if he did. That same days-long disappointment was creeping back.

Asahi considered his answer. He landed on, "I think... ah, I don't know. I think being cautious is smart."

You nodded slowly, but he couldn't see.

"I still wanna see ya," He added.

You grinned, relieved, and a little aroused again at his drawl, "Good."

It still left the obvious problem. You deliberated on what you could do. A glance to the locked door gave you one idea. Another glance to the window elaborated on it.

How could you see him, not leave the house, and have your brother not know at the same time?

Your question was slow as you slid off of your mattress and started to test the reliability of your window frame.

"How good are you at climbing?"

taglist.

thank ya'll for supporting this!!! i love this series it's so fun to write so i'm glad other people do too!! reply to be added to existing list :)

@valiantqueengarden @rinheartshyunlix @alpha-mommy69 @yuyunhoo @insertamazingnamehere @kreishin

masterlist.

requests. (including what you might want to see in the next 2 parts)

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moons-and-mobility-aids · 3 days ago

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Halo~~ can I request and Poly!Marauders (James, Sirius and Remus) x fem!reader? Where reader has recurring hypoglycemia and ends up standing the boys up on a date because her levels had been finicky all day and she forgot to tell them. So when they go find her to confront her about it they find her on the floor on like the verge of unconsciousness (or maybe she's already passed out) with dangerously low levels and help her like the good loving boyfriend's they are. Pretty please 🥺

Thank you for this request! I had fun with it, and I hope this works for you! 💞 Poly!marauders x fem!reader 💞 2.2k words

The sun dips lower in the sky, painting hues of lavender and pink across the horizon. It's the perfect backdrop for the evening you've been anticipating all week with James, Sirius, and Remus—a night filled with laughter and camaraderie. They've planned something big, no doubt; James has been jokingly boasting about his "romantic genius," while Sirius grins like a Cheshire cat and Remus rolls his eyes, though the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. Their good humour is infectious, and you can't help but look forward to whatever they have in store.

But today, your body doesn't seem to be on the same page as your mind. You've woken up with trembling hands and a light head, your blood sugar levels fluctuating in a way that makes your stomach churn. You're not new to hypoglycaemia—you've had episodes before, each one leaving you weak and shaky—but today it lingers, refusing to let go despite your best efforts to stabilise it. You push through, hoping to shake it off, but the fatigue clings to you like a second skin, weighing you down.

"Just a little rest," you tell yourself, sinking into the couch. "I'll feel better after."

Setting an alarm, you allow your eyes to flutter closed, promising yourself that it's only for a moment before you get ready. You know you should let the boys in on what's happening, but the thought of explaining—of offering up excuses yet again—seems too daunting. Too draining. Instead, you tell yourself it will pass. It always does. A quick nap should help; then you can join them, fresh-faced and ready for the evening's escapades.

---

The air is thick with tension at the small restaurant where you agreed to meet. James sits with his back to the wall, his foot tapping out a rhythm of worry against the table leg. He checks his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes, his brow furrowed.

"She's late," he mutters, though everyone at the table is painfully aware. "She's never late."

Sirius glances toward the door again, his usual swagger replaced by something more akin to concern. "Maybe she got held up," he offers, but there's a tightness in his voice that belies his nonchalant exterior.

Remus's eyes flicker between the two, worry etching deep lines in his already weary face. "She would've sent word if she couldn't make it—she always does."

James rubs a hand through his unruly hair, the action doing nothing to quell the unease that creeps into every crevice of his being. "That's what has me worried," he admits, gaze far off. "It's not like her to just... vanish."

"Then we should go and see for ourselves if she's all right," Remus suggests, rising from his seat. The chair scrapes against the floor, a grating sound that mirrors the tension threading through each man's veins. "Better safe than sorry."

"Agreed." Sirius pushes away from the table, his frame rigid with an intensity borne of concern. "Let's go."

Without another word, they leave the restaurant behind, its warmth and light becoming a distant memory as they step into the biting night air. Their footfalls echo down the empty streets, a testament to their shared apprehension.

The apartment is eerily still as they approach, the silence hanging heavy in the air like a shroud. Something about it feels wrong, disjointed, and Sirius is the first to cross the threshold, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y/N?" he calls out, his voice laced with both worry and hope. But there's no answer, just the echo of his own words bouncing off the walls.

James follows closely behind him, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of you. Remus brings up the rear, his gaze taking in every detail, a frown etching deep lines into his forehead.

"Over here!" James' shout breaks the tense quietude, his voice edged with panic. He's found you unconscious on the couch, your body too still. In an instant, he's at your side, dropping to his knees and pressing two fingers against your pulse point.

"She's breathing," he says, relief washing over him, but it's short-lived. "It's shallow, though. And her pulse... It's too fast."

Before he can say anything more, Remus is already moving, his long strides carrying him to the kitchen where the emergency kit is kept. His hands are steady as he reaches for the Baqsimi nasal spray, fingers deftly peeling away the red stripe that seals it. The lid comes off with a soft pop, revealing the small device within.

Sirius kneels beside James, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes lightly against your skin. His face is a mask of fear, guilt, and resolve. "Why didn't she tell us?" he murmurs more to himself than anyone else, the question hanging heavily in the air.

He turns to Remus, his grey eyes hardening. "Are you ready?"

"Always," Remus replies with a steady voice that belies the tremor in his hands. He positions the nozzle of the spray into one of your nostrils, his brow furrowed in concentration. "This should help. Just hold on."

With a gentle push, he depresses the plunger, watching as the green line marking the dose disappears. There's a collective holding of breaths as they wait for any sign of change.

"We've got to hope for the best," Sirius says, though his voice wavers slightly. "She'll pull through. She has to."

"Of course she will," James adds, his fingers tightening around yours, as if he could will you back to consciousness through sheer force of grip. His free hand finds your other cheek, his thumb tracing circles over the cool skin. "She's stronger than this."

Remus is already moving again, his long fingers sifting through the cupboards for the quick sugars he knows you keep on hand. He retrieves a carton of orange juice and a box of crackers, sparing no time in spreading peanut butter across the crackers and pouring out a glass of juice. Once prepared, he places the items on the low coffee table before sinking onto the edge of the couch. "We should give her these when she comes around."

The room falls into a tense silence as they wait, their gazes never straying far from your prone form. Sirius's hand hovers over your shoulder before finally making contact, his knuckles ghosting over the fabric of your shirt. His eyes, usually so full of mischief, are shadowed with concern. "She scared us," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

"More than that," James says, his tone gruff with unshed emotion. "I can't—"

His sentence hangs unfinished, the weight of it too heavy for words. Instead, he reaches out, brushing away a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch gentle, almost reverent.

And then, so faint it's nearly missed, there's a shift. A soft groan escapes your lips, barely audible but enough to cause their hearts to leap. Your eyelids flutter, struggling against the pull of unconsciousness.

"Finally," Sirius mutters, relief flooding his features even as his brows knit together in a scowl. "Took your sweet time, didn't you?"

James leans in closer, his breath hitching as your eyes begin to open. He presses a warm kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. "You're okay," he says, his words more of a prayer than a statement. "We've got you."

Sirius moves to help you sit up; his touch is steady, firm yet careful, like he's afraid you might shatter at any moment. The room spins slightly as you're lifted, but Sirius' presence is grounding, a reminder of reality amidst the haze of confusion.

"Easy there," Remus says, his voice soft yet commanding. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, not quite reaching his eyes, which remain clouded with concern. He picks up the glass from the coffee table, the contents sloshing gently.

"Here," Remus coaxes, holding the straw to your lips. "Take small sips, slowly."

The juice is cold and slightly tart in your mouth, a stark contrast to the warmth spreading from your core. You reach to hold the glass, but your hands shake, the tremors betraying the weakness you feel. Remus keeps his grip on the glass, steady as always.

You try to sit up straighter, to focus on the faces hovering around you, but every movement feels heavy, slow. The room tilts a little, and you wince, shutting your eyes. When you open them again, they're still there, all watching you, their expressions etched with concern.

"What..." Your voice is a raspy whisper, barely there. "What happened?"

"Scared the bloody hell out of us, you did," Sirius says, his tone equal parts relief and frustration. He leans back in his chair, passing a hand across his face. "We found you passed out. Your blood sugar was dangerously low."

"We used the nasal spray," Remus explains, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. "You're lucky it acted quickly."

Your brow furrows as you try to make sense of the day's events. "I—" You begin, but your throat constricts around the admission. "I didn't mean to..."

"We know," James says quietly, his hand covering yours where it rests on the cup. "But you need to tell us when you're not feeling well, love. We could've stepped in sooner."

"I didn't want to ruin the date," you mumble, guilt curdling in your stomach.

"Ruin?" Remus's eyebrows knit together. "That's not how this works." His tone is stern but laced with worry, not anger. "Your health comes first, always. You could have—" He stops, a grimace passing over his face as if the words themselves are painful. "You could have taken a turn for the worse before we found you."

"Exactly," Sirius interjects, his voice softer than before. "You don't spoil anything by telling us you need help. We love you, Y/N."

A lump forms in your throat as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You cast your gaze down to the cup of juice. "I'm sorry."

"Hey." James reaches out, gently tilting your chin up until you're looking at him. The concern in his hazel eyes is almost too much to bear. "No more apologies, all right? Just let us help you. That's what we want."

The corners of Sirius's mouth lift into a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head—a gesture that feels as much a promise as it does an act of care. "Exactly. You're not getting rid of us that easily, so you might as well let us look after you."

Remus chuckles softly, though there's a tightness in his shoulders that suggests he's far from relaxed. "And speaking of which—finish the juice. Then we'll get some food in you."

"I'm fine," you murmur, but it's a feeble protest at best.

James's grin is slight, more a quirk of the lips than a full smile, but it's there, a glimmer of light amid the shadows. He picks up a cracker spread with peanut butter and extends it towards you. "Come on, open up. Don't make me do the airplane noises."

Your lips quirk despite yourself, a response to James's levity. You take the offered morsel, and for a moment, the air in the room loosens, the tension fraying at its edges as they watch you eat.

Remus shakes his head, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You're lucky we look out for you."

"And you'll never hear the end of it," Sirius adds, his grin broadening. "We'll remind you every chance we get."

James lets out a quiet chuckle, but it quickly fades, replaced by a solemn expression. "Good," he says, his gaze steady on yours. "Because we won't let this happen again."

You finish the juice and crackers, every last crumb swept away, and as the warmth gradually returns to your body, so too does a sense of calm. James tucks a blanket around your shoulders, ensuring you're as comfortable as possible. Sirius settles beside you, his arm a steady presence around your shoulders while Remus remains at your feet, gently massaging your ankle.

James sits on the floor in front of you, his back resting against the edge of the coffee table. There's a tranquillity to him that wasn't there before, a resolution settling over his features. "You need to rest now," he tells you, not as an order but as a suggestion born from concern. "We'll stay."

"Staying?" The word slips out before you can stop it, a small voice daring to hope. "You're not leaving?"

"Absolutely not," Sirius says, his voice firm and unyielding. "We're staying here tonight. You won't be alone."

Remus's eyes lift to meet yours, meeting your gaze with a gentle warmth that defies the harsh reality of your situation. "Of course not," he replies, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Until you're fed up with us," James adds, his own grin small but genuine.

A weak chuckle escapes your lips, though it does little to alleviate the tension coiled in your chest. "I don't think that's possible."

And as sleep begins to pull you under, the last thing you feel is the pressure of Sirius's hand on your skin, grounding you in this new reality. The last thing you hear is James's voice, low and steady as he whispers, "Always."

#Poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #Sirius black x reader #Sirius black x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #james potter x you #james potter x reader #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfic

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allfearstofallto · 9 months ago

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College au is so delicious bc you can have Childe having to deal with the fact that you don't like him. Whether it be his sus vibes or how...dead his eyes look, you just don't like him. So you avoid him like the plague to save the both of you from any trouble.

But the thing is, he likes you and he's sure he can make you feel the same way about him. You'll come around, he's sure of it.

Just Childe engaging in pest behavior is all I can think about for this au

-🐇

Writing Childe without his power and assets is so goddamn challenging, but also so fun!

He's such a pest though. That pretty face can get him so damn far, I'm sure of it. I have to think about how easily I fell for Childe before it was revealed that he was super fucking evil, so obviously it wouldn't be hard for him to develop a pretty powerful influence with enough smiles.

Childe <3

College AU

Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader

You don't like Ajax? Or Childe as they called him. A stupid nickname, but one he apparently earned. Where he got it from to even who he was, you truly didn't care. You didn't like him and apparently that was a problem with everyone, but you.

You were okay with not having a relationship with him. The campus was big enough where you didn't have to see him if you didn't want to and you both studied different majors, although you put more time and effort into your study. He spent most of his energy on being the life of the party.

People didn't understand why you didn't like Ajax, apparently just saying that you found him creepy wasn't enough of an answer.The Ajax who made an effort to always invite you out? The Ajax who always wanted to walk you to and from classes even though you never told him your schedule? The Ajax who was the only person to buy you gifts for Valentine's, heart shaped, lavish chocolates and a bouquet bigger than your head, even though you weren't romantic with him? The Ajax that called and texted you at random hours of the night to “check on you” when you didn't give him your number? No. Not that Ajax. That Ajax wasn't creepy at all.

The worst part was his dead eyed stare. You wondered how people enjoyed his company when he had the eyes of someone with no true compassion, the eyes of someone who was obviously faking their emotion. Was everyone just pretending to not notice how his smile didn't reach his eyes, or had you truly gone crazy?

The dim, setting sunlight hit your note pages as you sat in the library to study, a typical thing for you to do when you had hours between your classes. And Ajax, the one who was failing almost every single class he took, decided to sit only a few tables over from you, pretending to be nose deep into a book for a course he didn't even take.

You could feel his eyes on you as you tried to focus on anything, but him. The books, the clocks, your phone, anything but him, where he sat unmoving. Why was today the day the library had to be empty? Where was everyone else who was supposed to be studying? Why were you alone with him, only a few tables between you.

A weight lifted off your shoulder when you heard someone stomping up the stairs to the library, calling his name loudly, “What are you doing here man? I didn't even think you knew what a library was!” they ostracized him while playfully smacking him on the back. They were obnoxiously loud, something that would've annoyed you any other day, but today you were grateful for their rudeness.

He was distracted. You could tell because you could no longer feel those eyes on you. This was your chance to scoop all of your books up and toss your bag over your shoulder, running out the door before he had the chance to notice you were gone. You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the cool autumn air against your skin eased you more than the tense air of the library.

It was worrisome how much more you'd been seeing him these past few days. More than usual and not in the coincidental way. It was like he always knew where you were going. You tried to brush the thought from your head as you walked to your next class, trying to focus on anything else, but that feeling was back. The feeling of eyes on you. And not just any eyes. Those dead eyes. He was nearby.

You stopped in your tracks and turned on your heels with your eyes closed. In your mind, you were silently praying that it was just the nerves and your mind was playing tricks on you. That it was making you imagine the feeling, but sure enough, there he was, messy orange hair, charming smile, and lifeless eyes.

“You're jumpy today,” he said playfully. You took a hesitant step back, but he still closed the distance between you, with little hassle. All it took was two steps from his long legs and suddenly you could smell his oaky cologne. He tossed an arm over your shoulder and pulled you back into his chest, “You left pretty quickly back there. I didn't even get to say hello.”

“Sorry,�� you muttered beneath your breath. His baggy clothes hid it well, but he was built firmly beneath them, all muscle with little to no fat. He wasn't choking you with this arm, not yet, but you could feel his ability to. And it would be easy for him to do.

His orange hair tickled your cheeks as he leaned down to be closer to your face, “You didn't answer my text,” his voice just barely above a whisper, his tone playful, but you could feel the malice behind it. He was annunciating each syllable of each word, speaking slowly so you couldn't say you didn't hear him correctly.

“T-text?” You stuttered back. Which text? Ajax texted you all hours of the day and night. Was he actually taking your dry, one word answers as replies? Was what you were doing to try to push him away only making him push back harder?

With an arm still around your neck, his other hand trailed down your body. His fingertips traced every curve of your clothed person, until they landed on the hip. He took this time to squeeze and groped your lower body before slipping your phone out of your pocket and typed in your password.

The blood drained from your face while you watched him scroll through your apps. No one knew your password. No one. Yet he typed it in like it was a regular occurrence for him.

“Didn't even save my number,” he whined, “Don't worry, I've got you.”

His name was changed from a string of numbers to “Childe <3” not giving you the chance to protest.

“You really are a bad girlfriend,” he muttered again, not caring about your lack of a response to him. Girlfriend? Since when were you his girlfriend? You felt like you were spinning in place and your head just felt so heavy. He was saying everything so casually, like you were supposed to agree with it, like you were the one who was wrong.

“Ajax, I think you've misunderstood something,” you said a little too quickly, but your lungs felt like they couldn't get any air in them.

It seemed like he ignored your words completely as he continued to scroll through his messages to you, where he was practically talking to himself, “See? Right here. I asked to take you out for coffee,” he held the screen up to your face.

Sure enough, he had. But you never responded and that text was quickly swallowed up by the myriad of other texts he'd sent you. His flirty messages were ignored by you, more often than not you only replied out of what felt like obligation and fear. Anyone who said you were lucky to have the oh so popular Ajax crushing on you, obviously didn't look into those empty eyes enough.

He sighed and using that arm around your shoulders, began to drag you in the opposite direction from where you were going. You tried to stop him and pull away, but his strength only made you stumble over your own steps, falling into his arms.

“Where are you taking me?” Fear was laced in your words as you continued to struggle in his grasp, but he didn't stagger.

“Coffee.” He spoke with ease as he continued to drag you along with him, that well built, muscled arm shifted ever so slightly to your neck and starting to choke, “I think we need to talk.”

#mai<3 answers #🐇 anon #genshin #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader

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merumis · 4 months ago

Text

you gave kuroo a notebook last may—he hasn't quite had the courage to open it yet.

it's almost august now; it's that sticky kind of heat outside, the one that clings to both his skin and the inside of his lungs, so he's stuck in his childhood room. there's a rickety fan that keeps blowing half-cooled air into his face and downstairs, he can hear his father talking to his grandparents. something about dad's hardware store, something about a new employee, something about grandma wanting to make grandpa's favorite for dinner tonight.

the fan keeps lifting the cover of the notebook up. it's sitting on kuroo's desk. to his right, between all the remnants of last semester's college apartment that he couldn't leave there this summer: an air purifier his mom sent him (it was a peace offering, he thinks, after a particularly bad phone call. he doesn't think he forgave her), a box of his dishes, filled with cracks from his shitty dishwasher, and a bread basket you thrifted him. just to name a few.

and still, between the clutter, the breeze from the fan lifts only the cover—just enough for it to catch his eye. he reaches over to grab it, playing with the cover, bending the spine and flicking through the pages. it's an old notebook, well-worn and imprinted by your fingertips. the leather bends and gives where you would've held it, or where it would've jumbled around in your bag—molded by textbooks and pencil cases and your laptop.

he supposes he'll see you again next month, so now is as good a time as any to open this. you've been awfully incurious regarding this whole thing—sending him texts about your and his internships more than anything else. he's been partially grateful.

it's not that he doesn't want to read it. he doesn’t know quite how else to say it. he’s watched you scribble in this thing over the course of the year. it’s almost always late at night, in his bed or yours, lit only by his half-broken lamp or yours, gifted by a professor who you get lunch with every other week.

it was never that he didn’t want to read it—he means it, really. he’d always try to sneak glances while you were writing in it, and you’d tsk and laugh at him while pulling the papers up to your chest. in a weird way, it felt wrong to read it after you’d given it to him—like he hadn’t earned it, or like he’d be looking at something all too personal that hadn’t been there during all those failed attempts.

the fan lifts up the cover again, and this time, he sneaks his index finger under it, flipping to the first page.

i don’t normally fill the first pages of notebooks, it reads, scrawled out in your too-neat handwriting that he’s always made fun of. but it’s a good thing, you continue, because this way i get to fill this page with this. you finally get your way, tetsurou. you can read the notebook. i’m so—underlined three times, drawn a little darker, he can feel the sarcasm seeping through the pencil led—proud of you.

and then at the bottom, one more bit.

and by the way, do NOT tell me when you read this. don’t even mention it to me at all. this is embarrassing enough as is.

he lets out that stupid breath of laughter through his nose. those uninterested texts suddenly make a little more sense. he turns the next page.

i’ve met someone infuriating, it reads. crooked smiles, tequila-drenched breath, eyes made just to match. he leans in close when he speaks, laughter bubbling between words and fanning his warm breath across my ear and neck.

and then there’s that pull. i couldn’t put a name to it if i tried. that sweet tingling across my skin whenever he gets close enough; it feels like someone’s placed magnets beneath the surface of my flesh, and he’s holding their pair.

i knew we were going to kiss before he ever got that close—and i think he did too. he was too warm, too enticing, too, well, magnetic for anything else. and i love watching his brows furrow at the sound of my voice—indifferent, maybe a little cold. a comment about his big nose in return for one about my pretty eyes.

and all at once, kuroo knows this moment. the fan acts as a poor imitation of the cool october breeze—but it feels similar, all the same. it wasn’t quite halloween but at every party, you could see hints of it popping up in the corners. window decals of a witch and a ghost hanging in someone’s room, pumpkin carving kits tucked against the wall because no one had planned for a place to store them.

it was hardly the first time he’d talked to you—much less the first time he’d seen you—but you are right. he did know he was going to kiss you that night.

the fan catches one of his old posters behind him—making the thick paper scrape against his wall. the noise makes him turn. it’s an old periodic table (groan) and now it’s starting to get a little tattered at the edges. the fan catches again, this time on the notebook, and flips to another page.

kuroo allows it—call it fate or languor—and flattens out the notebook onto this new page.

i don’t know if you know this, it starts, but you fell asleep last night. shocking, i know, but it was before me, in my bed. you were sprawled out on my sheets—taking every inch of space you could in my mediocre full-size.

two weeks ago you told me you loved me. i didn’t know what to say. i laughed and kissed you and maybe said thank you. you took it like a champ while i dipped tofu into panko crumbs.

but tonight, i whispered it to you. once, twice, a third time—my lips brushing against the curve of your ear. i stopped every time you tossed or turned—i love, i would begin, and then hold my breath until your body stilled against mine. you, i breathed out. warm and all mine for tonight.

and kuroo has always known that you’re a writer—a good one, at that, from all those nights reading over your latest essay or poem for class, but this is different.

you like to write break-up poems for class—all about him, all fictionalized (he hopes) and all there to get a bit of a rise out of him, he knows. you love to write about the grand, the grotesque, things that he couldn’t put words to describe and you always did.

you had never written about him like this. or not to his face, anyway, and yet here it was—laid out in front of him, your handwriting looping around the college-ruled lines.

he flicks through a few more pages, fanning them out underneath the slow glide of his thumb—the fan swirling them in front of him faster than he wants, so he has to do it once, twice, and then again—a third. they’re not all about him, some are about her roommate, others about an essay or a concept that kuroo couldn’t put a name to. but most center him—in one view or another.

his grandmother clatters a few pans downstairs, a sharp clanging of metal hitting just beneath his floors. he can hear his dad call to her, his grandfather watching the tv 4 clicks too loud.

but here, with his rickety fan and tattered posters and his claustrophobic childhood scattered around him, he also has you. his phone buzzes next to him.

i think my job hates me btw, you send, and then another. how was your day off?

good, he replies, read a little.

anything good?

and because kuroo is so compliant to your word—perhaps maliciously so—he replies.

eh. not really. he smiles to only himself. maybe i’ll tell you about it later.

#LOL this one is shorter than i expected it to be but that's okay i think #i wrote this half on my laptop and half on my phone so i'm not responsible for any inconsistencies #hq x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu x reader #x reader #kuroo x you

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yaut-jaknowit · 1 month ago

Note

Hello:D

Okay but MxM: imagine there’s like a ‘peace’ treaty between humans and Yautja and some interspecies programs are set up, and a Yautja and a human who absolutely despise each other get teamed up, absolutely bully each other and then one begins to realise it’s sexual tension not hate and they just end up fucking on the job🗣️🔥

Thick As A Knife

Pairings: Celtic (Male Yautja) x AMAB!Reader

Word Count: 6300 (Whoop! Ten pages)

Summary: This was all your friend's fault. Sign up for the treaty, he said. It'll be fun, he said. It's not like you would've gotten picked. Until you received a phone call one day. The only reason you don't say no was the fact of the pay. The pay.

Author Note: This... this unfortunately isn't one of my best works. I don't feel very proud of it but I can't find the energy to redo. I'm so sorry, dude, I tried my best. I hope it still works for you though! I tried to make it decent by using your favorite man's.

Masterlist

Ao3

Out of everyone that was offered as a sacrifice, er, sorry. That was placed into the program, you had been one that was chosen. One of your friends put your name into the gamble just for the fun of it alongside herself. Look at what’s happening now.

All of your stuff was pulled from your apartment and placed into a shipping container. Where it will be taken to an interspecies ship that was the first of its kind. Not only will that happen, but apparently you’re going to be placed with the species you hated. A species who was completely uncivilized. They call humans primitive but strut around half naked in fishnets. If there wasn’t a good amount of cash that’s being deposited into your account as you say, there was no way in hell you would let this happen. Not if you’re going to trapped in a space with the Yautjas.

A scoff left your lips, eyes rolling. This was unbelievable. Space travel wasn’t shiny new, but it’s not like you’ve been outside of earth’s atmosphere before. That’s when your leg began to shake, bouncing up and down in a rapid motion.

So far, there’s been no incidents. That included both the ship you’ll be residing on and with the new friendly Yautjas your government decided to friend. It was best to keep your enemies close, keep an eye on them. Yet, here they are, sticking you to a randomly picked alien as well. The two of you had one thing in common. Forced by your governments to follow their commands.

The door to the shipping unit shut before your very eyes and locked away all your possessions. Your lips pressed into a thin line.

Over on the street, a black car pulled into the parking lot. The windows completely blacked out. All you could see was your own reflection staring back at you. Then, the tinted window rolled down to reveal a woman dressed in a suit. She reminded you of the movie Men In Black with the black glasses. Once again, you couldn’t see here eyes.

She motioned towards the front see you were meant to take. With one more glance to what could be the last time you may see your apartment, you opened the door and slid in. The shipping container was left behind for someone to come pick and take to your new home. Thinking about it was making it more of a reality in your mind. Your leg began to twitch again.

All the way to the launch site, the driver kept silent. Her glasses provided the perfect barrier from seeing her eyes and getting a read on her. You wrung out your fingers while they sat in your lap the entire car ride.

About three hours had passed before she turned onto what looked to be an abandoned road. It was strictly gravel. This wasn’t what you were expecting to be the grand entrance to a new life in space. You watched as low hills passed on either side of the car. She wasn’t in much of a rush, carefully about how bumpy the backroad was.

The car came over a hill. On the other side sat a small, navy blue vessel. A vessel that resembled the ships many of the Yautjas used. Your mood soured immediately, ruined by the reminder of where you were going. Your muscles grew tense. Unsaid words entered the air and filled it with tension that the driver could feel.

When the vehicle came to halt, the process was swift. You were given a quick brief of how to act and what to do while on this ship. It practically went into one ear and out the other. Honestly, you tried to listen, tried to be a good sacrifice. But with the situation, you stopped caring. If only they were the ones going to be stuck with the brute of an alien for however long they pleased. There were no set times. Just a paycheck in the mail every two weeks you are there. A good paycheck that had you mostly compliant.

After everything was said and done, they ushered you towards this navy blue vessel. A ramp lowered down at your presence. It felt like a scene from Star Wars. The hiss of steam before a ramp revealed the inside of this ship. As a human, your curiosity was screaming at you, wanting to figure out everything that made this thing tick. You were becoming part of the first group of humans to enter space. Though, with the aid of another species. It was still a feat that wasn’t achievable in this manner until now.

They showed you up the ramp before leaving you in the middle of a small gathering room. The ship itself wasn’t massive by any means. Just a carrier ship for short travel.

Towards the front of the vessel was the cockpit. At first, you missed the figure but your eyes snapped back to him.

From limited pictures, you could still tell this was that Yautja, that unfortunate partner you’ve been paired with. They call him Celtic. It almost gave him a sort of human side to him but immediately narrowed your eyes on the figure. He was your ride? You internally scoffed and fought off the want to cross your arms. That would look bad on your part. And that paycheck was looking really, really nice.

The brute of a man stood up. Never in your life had you been around one of them before. They don’t come to earth. Not unless they hunted before the treaty. That didn’t happen much anymore, unless someone offered themselves up for the hunt. That was part of the deal the government made with the Yautjas.

And he was tall and thick. He had to be at least three times your mass. His sensor dreads weren’t extremely long. They were a dark black, signaling his young age. You were surprised his government had sent someone on the younger side to be part of the treaty. Yet, here you were as well.

A forced smile cracked at your features. It felt more like a grimace. Celtic stopped in front of you and tilted his head down, bright yellow eyes peering into your very soul. It became a staring contest, trying to find the weakness in each other. Whatever you could get to make sure you had the upper hand. He was a beast, a species that knows no mercy. You hated the fact that you had been roped into those by your friend. There was no backing out. All you could do was endure this for however long it was necessary. Get the money, get out. Simple as that.

His mandibles flickered, tongue darting out to taste the air. “You are not what I was expecting,” he speaks in a slower voice. A proper speech as if he just recently learned English. It took a lot of will not to cross your arms and drop the façade at his words. This is part of the reason you disliked this species as a whole. They were all the same. There was no difference between any of them. They all had that rude attitude. It irked you so much too.

Your hand curled into a fist at your sides. You clicked your tongue, eyes roaming from head to toe in a careless manner. “And you’re not as high skilled as I thought you would be,” your snarked and relaxed your grip. It would be best not show your emotions as much to these guys.

One thing you knew about these guys was where to hurt them. Their pride and hunting skills. Hit either of those and they will show they don’t like to be challenged. It didn’t matter what sex, both sex’s aren’t going to back down from a challenge. Especially one they know that could be won. One against a weak ooman that’s defenseless. You read up on some of their culture. To make sure you had everything in your power to survive this to the disastrous end. The people with the white wigs didn’t know a lick about what happens below their boot.

Just think of the money.

The way his eyes darkened, mandibles pulling tight over his alien mouth. Nothing needed to be said that you got under his skin. You held back a proudful smirk and kept your eyes narrowed on his towering figure.

Celtic scoffed then spun on his heel before strutting into the cockpit. You let the grin crack your façade wide open. Ah, that was lovely. You meandered after him and peered into the new space. It wasn’t spacious by any means, but it held the most important pieces to fly the craft. Despite your smug feelings, you were in awe at the incredible technology shift. You hid it before taking a seat to the left of him. The Yautja didn’t even glance in your direction.

Ah, you had really hit him where it hurt. Good. He’s probably killed one of your kind. He deserved it.

Underneath you, the ship rumbled, and the engines flared to life. It was powerful to be inside of such a thing. Your grin flickered onto your features for only a second. This wasn’t the time. You shoved it down to the pit of your stomach and gripped onto the armrests. This was your first time launching into space, leaving earths atmosphere. There was no way to stop the thundering of your heart.

Earth’s ground left the landing gear’s feet. You leaned forward in your seat to peer over the edge of console to look out the window. Once a hundred feet in the air, Celtic rapidly presses a few buttons then grabbed a lever. You had no time to react when he punched it. The force sent you flying back into the seat with a soft ‘oof’. The air in your lungs was pushed out but you quickly regained control.

He pressed forward and tilted the craft into a climb. Clouds whooshed passed the window. A sight you’ve never got to see before, even when flying. It continued to push higher and higher into the sky. Soon the day sky turned into night in a matter of a minute. Without light pollution of the cities, the stars were free to shine as brightly as they wished. You leaned forward in awe. The sight beyond anything you’d experienced before.

The craft leveled out without the fighting force of earth’s gravity to pull it down. The lack of gravity pulled at your stomach. Nausea washed over you for a few moments. Then, everything returned to normal. Your grip still clung to the armrests of the co-pilot’s chair. It would take an act of God to get you to loosen up. Fear wasn’t the contributing factor but the unknown of the whole situation made you feel unease. You’ve seen plenty of pictures and 3D models of the vessel you’ll be staying in. That’s fake over the rude awaking of the real world. It was really happening.

A moment passed when your gaze returned to the open vast space. In front of the ship, far away, was the forementioned ship. Your jaw slackened at the size. It rivaled a football field or cruise ship easily. Without any indicator, it was difficult to tell. There was nothing in space to compare it to, to see how big it really was. But it was huge.

That’s where you were going to be staying. A fact you didn’t have hit you in the fact until now. Celtic flew the ship closer to what’s called a mother ship. It’s a hub, per se. It’s where a clan would live and could maintain one as well. Similar to a tiny planet.

With practice ease, Celtic pulls the ship in the docking portion of the ship. He lands nearly perfect with only a bounce then shuts down all the engines. A new silence washes over the two of you. Celtic is up and out of his seat without a word. The lumbering form expertly spins on his heel once up and marches towards the back of the carrier vessel you were in. You jolted at the sudden abandonment and rushed after him like a stumbling fool. “What that fuck!? Wait up for me,” you yelled at him and barely made it to him when the ramp had touched the ground.

There he goes again.

Long strides take him down the ramp. You tsked to yourself and raced after his fleeing form. Clearly, he dislikes your presence. That’s makes two of you.

You ran into his back with grunt and stumbled back. Right as you were about to yell at him for that, a throat clearing stopped you in your tracks. You peered around Celtics form to find three well decorated Yautjas standing in front of him. An ‘oh shit’ moment slapped you straight in the face. Your lips pressed into a thin line.

To look like less than a fool, you calmly stepped out from behind him and stood with your shoulders squared. Four pairs of eyes were set onto your form. You recalled from the information given to you, to not stare into their eyes. It can be seen as a challenge. Something you would never, ever want to deal with. You respectfully bowed your head in their direction, understanding they are at least elders. A high rank amongst their culture. To piss them off meant a death sentence.

One of them called your name and drew your timid gaze to the trio. You are respectful to let your eyes flicker between them or towards the ground.

“We are pleased to see you’ve joined us,” the one to your left politely greets you, mandibles slowly stretching out. “This is a wonderful opportunity for both of our communities to learn from this experience.” You had to shut off your throat to stop a scoff from escaping in their faces. They learned plenty from all the times they visited.

The middle one, an earthy green tone, dips his head a centimeter. “Yes. It is a great experience for all parties. As for your stay, you aren’t obligated to stay. You are no prisoner but a guest amongst the Yautja. If an issue arises, don’t be afraid to reach out to the three of us. We want to ensure you make it off of the mother ship alive.” The joke is crude but seems a normal thing for them.

They all chuckle in a short manner. “Your quarters are different compared to normal ones onboard. You are stationed with Celtic here, as he is your partner for this. There are two separate rooms. He will be your guide throughout all of this,” the one on your right spoke up. “Your things shall arrive at the end of the cycle. We wish the best of luck towards the both of you.”

All of them glanced at Celtic for a fleeting moment before leaving you to him. Celtic watched as the elders left the docking area. The second they were out of sight, he started a fast pace in a certain direction. You were left to scamper after him all over again. You gritted your teeth and practically ran to catch up to him.

“Seriously, wait up! I’m not as tall as you,” you snapped at the still retreating frame. Your legs moved as fast as they could to catch up to him. Celtic didn’t even glance down at you and kept the same speedy pace towards a certain direction.

With the knowledge of how long it will take for your unit to make it up here, you were stuck with the clothes on your back and the phone in your pocket. Nothing else. You grumbled under your pants while forced to jog next to the strutting male. He was fast, you’ll have to give him that. Celtic walked with purpose towards an elevator. The doors opened at your approach. He entered and spun on his heel to face the entrance. His eyes didn’t even flicker in your general direction. They stared out into the open space of the docking port. You barely made it inside in time before the doors closed and sealed your fate with him.

All the way to the desired floor, Celtic was silent. The gears inside of his head were working overtime. You didn’t need to know him long to see what was happening. Not that you cared. There wasn’t a chance you would care about him. Not in a million years.

In a flash, the male was out the door and down the hall. A growl left your throat. You chased after him and slipped past other roaming Yautjas. Some gave you glares while other completely ignored you, unless you ran into them. Then, a threatening snarl would work its way to your ears. You were swift to get out of their way and flail to keep up with Celtic. He was doing this on purpose. There were no doubts about that. All you wanted was to go to the designated room and call it a night. Today’s been filled with plenty of excitement, including packing everything important to your everyday activities. You didn’t know how long you were going to be here. It was best to be prepared.

Celtic stopped in his tracks. Right at the moment you caught up to him. You bumped into his side with your shoulder. A pointed look was thrown at you. Instead of cowering like you would’ve to any other Yautja, you sneered and challenged him silently to do something. Sure, have this whole treaty situation go up in arms right off the bat. You didn’t care. There was a paycheck sitting happily in your bank account. One nice enough to keep you content for a while.

The alien paused his actions from entering the room and crowded into your space. Despite being one-third of his mass and weight, you kept up the challenge and rose on your tippy toes. His bright eyes darkened at the sight. The lower two of his mandibles twitched in thought. The upper ones were pulled tight over his mouth. Your muscles were locked, ready for whatever he decided to throw at you. You weren’t going to let him or anyone else push you around. Especially, him.

Even when he got so close his stomach pressed against your chest, you didn’t waver. Something in his eyes flickered but you held strong. Number one rule in their culture, don’t back down from a fight. Especially so quickly, it makes you look weak and pathetic. You weren’t either of those. You weren’t going to be that.

The two of you stayed like this for a long time. People passed by. Some glancing at the strange sight while other just ignored the scene as if it was normal. But, it was him who faltered.

His eyes rolled in such a human manner you did a double take. A grumble left his throat while he turned away and strolled into the room. You dumbly stood there for a few moments before rushing inside. Just before the door closed shut and sealed off your new space to the rest of the mother ship. You halted in the foyer and glanced around the areas you could see.

This wasn’t what you were expecting. Though, this was a treaty of alliance and such, you weren’t expecting just a large space.

There were at least three doors you could see from your stop in the main entrance. Everything seemed polished down to the modules and made everything perfect. You slowly meander further inside. There was a kitchen, a decent sized one. A dining room as well; as if you were going to have diner with Celtic, let alone share a meal with him.

All you could speculate about the closed doors were those were the bedrooms and a bathroom. There was also a living room as well. Plenty of space to house a party. You huffed and turned towards him.

“Have you chosen a room or…?” you trailed off in hopes of an answer from him. He blinked at you then disappeared into one of the bedrooms without a word. Anger flared to life. You wanted to wring his neck. Instead, you walked into the only other available room and sat down on the mattress. It was extremely low to the ground. By the looks of it, it almost seemed like it was sunken into the floor. Your legs were kicked out straight in front of you.

Out of everything, this wasn’t what you were expecting. From a life on a planet, you were content with the space offered to you. The people on the other hand. That wasn’t something you were fond of. In all honesty, you wanted to smack him so hard he could see straight. Yet, you refrained from violence on the first.

And the second. Then, the third. Until the days began to blur together that point.

It wasn’t hard to keep track though. Out of everything though, the only thing that was exciting or adrenaline pumping was being dragged to the front of the ship. Straight to the captains cockpit to do a video call back home. You preformed a few briefings with your agents or point of contact. Nothing besides that was entertaining.

Celtic was still pissed at you. He kept his distance far from you as much as possible. Unless the two of you are called upon to speak before the important figures of this whole operation. That’s really when you would only talk to each other and truly see one another. Any other time, he’s either out with his hunt brothers or in his room.

As the only lone human on this alien ship, you’ve cornered yourself into the room. The door was locked most of the time and kept you safe from the monsters you were surrounded by. Food was the only time you freely came out. The need to feed so you didn’t starve was a necessity. You would busy yourself during that time. Even if Celtic came in to the shared apartment, he would go straight to his space. Not a word even uttered in your general direction.

One day, the male came in. Unlike every other time he’s been here, he stopped at the island in the kitchen. Celtic bent over the island and rested on his elbows, eyes watching your every move about. You grew anxious, unsure whether he meant harm or not. Not that he ever has shown he wanted to cause you injury, but you couldn’t help this feeling deep inside of you.

After another minute goes by, you tensed up and spun around on your heel. “What in the world is your problem?!” you snapped at him and pointed the spatula in your hand at him. A brow arches. You motioned with the object in hand for him to move along. “Shoo, let me cook in peace.” He continued to stare at you. You narrowed your eyes at him and pressed your lips into a tight, thin line. Apparently, he didn’t have anything better to do at this moment. Your gaze flickered down his body, taking in the sight of the lack of clothes that adorned him. His muscular body easily on display without any remorse. Like the dumbass you are, you stared longer than you meant to.

Celtic just stayed there. A sigh left your lips. You grumbled under your breath before slowly turning back around to face the stove. It wasn’t like you could anything to make him move if he didn’t. The Yautja was three times your mass. It would be easy to figure out how well that would turn out to be without even needing to see anything occur.

The entire time, his eyes stayed on you. The hunk stood in the same spot, not even wavering. Just a predator watching… his prey. You shuttered at the thought and quickened your pace. The faster you finished the process, the faster you could get into your room. Away from him and weirdness happening right now.

Your food was nearly done. The burner was shut off. It smelled like heaven. If one thing about this time away from home has taught you something, how to truly cook. When you have nothing else to do, cooking is a great experience to have under your belt.

Large, warm hands grasped at your hips, nearly encircling your entire waist. A gasp tore from your throat. Your hands braced onto the edge of the stove when a weight pinned you in pace.

An inner instinct deep down commanded you to stay put. You gingerly peeked over your shoulder. Celtic, in all of his glory, stood there. A rumbling purr poured from his throat. A noise that had your muscles relaxing underneath him. You bowed your head and huffed. “What… what is your problem?” you grounded out.

Claws dented your shirt. “You.” The weight shifted. The stove’s edge dug into your stomach, further proving his strength against you. You gritted your teeth at the slight ache that gave you.

He bowed his spine to hover his mouth next to your head. “You’ve been my problem. This entire time. You’ve driven me insane.” The long, forked, pink tongue flickered out to taste the air. “It’s been impossible to keep my hands still every time I get a whiff of you. You’re ooman. I shouldn’t even like you. This is all for formality.”

The grip tightened. His face inched closer to the crook of your neck. “I’ve imagined plenty of times about how I should go about this. But I can’t take it. I need you, little prey.” You shuttered out a whimpered and clenched your jaw tightly. By god’s grace, you shouldn’t be entertaining this, letting him even touch you. The feel of his hands on you was amazing.

Then, you steeled your emotions. One of your elbows strikes him in the exposed side and send him stepping back away from you. A firm look graced your features when you spun around to face Celtic.

In his bent over state, he picked up his head to find your fierce gaze. You whipped out a hand. Your fingers encircled his throat. With whatever power that drove you, you pushed his form back. He was forced back until the couch caught his legs. The towering figure tipped over and landed onto the cushions you. A grin cracked your features. You climbed into his lap and straddled his large hips. Everything about him was larger than life. It would be a challenge, but you didn’t care. Not at this point.

Your hand still held tightly onto his throat. Celtic looked at your commanding form and let you take control. “Guess what, you’ve been my problem this entire time too. Being a bitch every time I do something.” You sat up higher and made him look up at you slightly. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to wring out your neck. You standing around like a weirdo, with this sculpted body.”

Bright, yellow eyes watched your every move. The Yautja was intrigued with what you were doing. Your other hand palmed at his abs to make your point to him.

A deep grumbled escaped his throat, vibrating against your palm. “And what are you going to do about it?” he challenged, a glint filling his eyes.

Instantly, your anger flared wider than a solar flare. You leaned in close enough to feel the breath of his. “I’m going to rip off your fucking pants,” you said more as a question rather than a statement. You wanted his consent, hoping not to be reading off the wrong signs of this whole situation. That would make this ten times worse than before.

One of his mandibles quirked up. “Best of luck, little prey.” Your teeth grounded against one another. He chuckled nonchalantly. You ripped your hand off his throat and used both to unbuckle his pants. It was easy to figure out how they open and tugged them down enough to expose the slick slit of his sheath.

This was something you weren’t going to admit but you did some research on their anatomy. They had a sheath compared to everything hanging out, including internal testicles. You were jealous of their anatomy and wish humans had that.

A smirk broke across your features. “What’s this I see? Mister high and mighty is aroused from a little human being dominate, isn’t that right?” you taunted the beast of an alien underneath you. Your thumb ran along the wetness of his slit and barely pressed against it.

Two hands grasped at your hips again and pulled you down to grind against his groin. You choked on a gasp and slapped your hands down on his shoulders. Celtic rutted his hips up against your clothed crotch. Immediately, your dick began to stir to life, hidden away in your pants. A bulge began to form at the stimulation.

“Does the little human think he can take charge? When I could easily pin you down and take you on the floor like some animal?” Celtic snarled and tilted your hips just enough so the side of your cock rubbed against his open pants. You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent a moan from escaping. Pleasure raced up the base of your spine. “Pants. Off. Now.” There was a slight hint in his voice that gave you the chance to back out.

You struggled out of your pants until they were on the floor. Your cock was erect and throbbing at the lack of attention.

The Yautja purred at the sight, hands palming at your exposed thighs. Long, black claws dragged across the skin and left behind red marks in their wake. He grasped the globes of your ass and lifted you up against his chest. You scrambled to hold onto his shoulders for purchase. The length of your cock rubbed against the muscle of his torso. Your toes curled at the feeling of pleasure again.

He used both hands to spread your cheeks wide. You were forced to lean against him for support and gazed down at him. “Now, do you want this knot inside of you or not?” You took the hint to reach down and encircled your hand around his pulsing cock. It was hot to the touch and wet from his shaft.

The pointed head poked at your exposed hole. You couldn’t stop the way you tensed at the feeling. He was large in stature and size. There was without a doubt this would hurt. But you wanted it. To teach him a lesson. Because fuck him. You were about to. You gritted your teeth then sank down.

Only the head was able to fit on the first try. Your body desperately wanted to curl in on itself when the ache hit you hard. It took all of your power not to. The beast snarled, claws digging into your malleable flesh and created dents in your skin. But, he didn’t notice nor cared. Celtic used his superior strength to force you down while also thrusting his hips up.

Skin slapping against echoed in the shared space around the two of you. A high-pitched keen left your cracked lips. You leaned back to rest your hands on his thighs and hold on. In his eyes, a dangerous looked entered them. You clenched around the intrusion inside of you. His irises darkened. His grip caused blood to trickle down your fragile skin. The pain of that was the last thing on your mind. You knew instantly by the expression he held you were in for it. Your jaw stayed tense, gritting your teeth against one another.

The slow drag of his cock out of your stretched, abused hole had you feeling more sensitive than ever before. Celtic slammed you down and kept the pace like that. You were being used as a flesh light for him. Every noise you made echoed back at you. It sounded like sin and heavenly sex at the same time. Your moans loud and needy as his entire length rubbed against your prostate, never leaving the pleasure spot alone.

Each bounce caused your cock to slap against each other’s stomach. The sensitive tip grew flush with blood. Pre leaked out and wettened both of your skins. It was dirty and needy all at the same time.

All you could do was brace on his knees and relax your muscles. Yet, when the pain finally waned, you pushed off of them and fumbled against his chest. The Yautja growled his warning. Not like you cared.

You were able to stable yourself on his torso before starting to meet each of his thrusts. He looked nearly as much as a mess as you were. “Can’t, ah, can’t handle it, Celtic?” you taunt him with an shit eating grin. Said male narrowed his gaze on you, thrusts messing up slightly. “Thought you were all, all game and whatnot? But, you truly can’t handle a human’s ass. Little bitch.”

His claws continued to draw blood freely from your skin. Celtic stopped. The only sound in the room was the combined panting from the two of you. His bright eyes were nearly a dark shade of yellow. It was scary.

“Oh, little prey. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” He leaned into your personal space, panting hot air on your neck. “I have more stamina than you. You’ll be a whining, crying mess by the time I run through your ass. You won’t have anything left in your balls,” he challenged back, tongue flickering out again.

With an arm, you curl it around the back of his neck and tried to rise up higher on your knees. “I don’t think you’ll even last more than a round. You’ll be drooling by the first time you come. And, you’ll come quick. So pathetic.” His hands were so tight around your waist, it was impossible to move. Instead, you reached between the two of you and grasped at your own aching cock. You spat into your hand and started to stroke yourself in need of relief.

“Say’s the one-“ he lets you rise “-needily stroking himself in my lap.” He forces your form back down on his shaft. You screamed out and nearly pinched the base of your cock. The motion causes you to fall on to his torse, still pumping away. “See? Pathetic. Still jerking off with a cock deep inside of him. Such a needy, little ooman. Greedy little hole, needing my cock to fill it.”

The muscles on his stomach are chiseled. You pressed one side of your cock with a palm on his abs and thrusted against his toned muscles. A whined surged passed your lips. “S-shut up,” you snarked back weakly, not caring as much as before. Not with the edge growing near. “Fuck, yeah. Gonna come. I’m gon-gonna make a mess all over you. Teach yo-you a lesson.” It won’t work. You hoped it wouldn’t work.

Celtic grinned widely with his mandibles and angled his hips. Each thrust forced his length to slide against your prostate with all the strength he has. “Teach me a lesson? Sure. The lesson is how tight a ooman’s ass is. So fucking tight. I can’t wait to knot you.” You keened and quickened your thrusts. “There you go, desperate whore. Needing an alien to fuck you in the ass to get you to shut up.”

“I wish I had known that when I met you. Would’ve done it a long time ago,” he snarled, voice growing deep with each word.

At this point, you couldn’t think straight. The pleasure was rampant. It took over every sense you had. All you knew was the need to come. You came hard.

With a choked scream, head bowed down into his chest, cum spurted from the head of your dick and coated his entire torso. Each thrust only caused more to cover him. Your length throbbed hard, trying to soak Celtic. You mewled and squirmed in his hold, trying to get him to ease up. That only seemed to spur him on more. He somehow quickened his pace.

The skin on the back’s of your thighs and ass were going to be so sore tomorrow. You knew sitting down was going to be next to impossible. He held you place though, not allowing you any reprieve from his assault. “You’re going to take my cock like the good little prey you are. Fucking take it!” he snarled and grounded his hips against yours one last time.

Hot, thick spurts of cum filled you. A thick ball of flesh plugged you up, sealing every drop of Celtic’s seed inside of you. You were a limp mess on his torso, unable to even raise your head.

He collapsed against the couch with a deep, content purr that vibrated throughout his entire body. Strong, massive hands petted down your sweaty back. “Paya, I can tell it’s going to take forever for my knot to go down.” Shit, right… Yautja’s have knots. That’s why you felt fuller than normal. You groaned and rubbed your face against his similarly sweaty chest.

“Shut up,” you grumbled and stayed against him. It maybe sticky and a little gross. Yet, with his knot pressing against your prostate, you were trying not to go into overstimulation.

A chuckle left the creature’s chest. Celtic ran a hand from the base of your spine all the way to your neck. Said limb stayed there and cradled you close him. Your eyes shut, letting the dopamine fill your veins.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #yautja x human #predator x reader #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #Celtic

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kur-ooz · 3 months ago

Text

✧˚ · . Drunken Stupor

A/N - I saw your rule page and if your comfortable with it can you do baby daddy aizawa were he and reader make out (maybe they were drunk idk)???

hey anon! hope you enjoy I had fun writing this one.

✧˚ · . warnings - cursing! Semi Sexual content (It's just making out don't be a loser.)

✧˚ · . Pairings - Aizawa x Fem! Reader

You stumbled down the block, wallowing in your own drunkenness, the people around you are parting like the red sea. It'd been another night in your normal office job, and after you'd decided to get a drink at the bar, a drink turned into two and two turned into more.

It was embarrassing, how they stared like they knew everything, they didn't know shit.

your arm reached out for the brick wall, your nails digging into the rough texture, your arms swung down to your sides again. Your fingers running over a metal texture. Looking down you attempted to read the ingrained lettering on the plate.

1000th 6th, your eye twitched, you were drunk, but not drunk enough to not acknowledge that you'd just stumbled from the bar to your ex's boyfriends house.

It'd be sadder if it was by accident, but it wasn't. somewhere in the back of your mind you knew your drunk self was aware of what it was doing, present you just refused to accept it.

the porch light was on signifying that he was home, he usually was, he'd never go anywhere at this time, especially when he's got his daughter for the weekend.

You stare at the door for longer than you should and logical you says you should just walk away and go be ashamed in your apartment, but drunk you is whispering something much different in your brain.

'Just go check in, it wouldn't hurt."

Yeah, it wouldn't hurt, what's the worse that can happen?

Now you're hobbling to the door, and before you know it your finger is hovering over the doorbell, before you can re-evaluate your dumb decision the door opens and he's sitting there in all his glory.

well as glorious as you can be in sweatpants and a regular Cotten tee-shirt.

his face turns up in a confused way "What are you doing here?" he's now looking down at you his hair fallen over his shoulders.

his voice still makes you shiver even though it's been a while.

"Uh, checkin' on Ayato?" You slurred, you said it like it was common knowledge to show up on your exes doorstep at 10 o'clock at night, now he was really confused, "Are you drunk?" he asked.

you scoffed, "No, are you drunk?" you asked back, he let out a disappointed sigh, and fully reached his body out of the door to grab a package on the doorstep, he then opened the door fully, holding it open.

You looked to him, and then the door. He grunted, "Are you going to come inside or not?" without answering you slip inside and are comforted by the warmth of his home along with the smell of cookies.

"You bakin'?" You ask as you stumble across his home and into the kitchen as if you owned it, he trailed after you. "No, it's just a candle, you know I can't bake." he responded in his usual nonchalant tone.

you snorted, "Yeah, you are sucky at that." you responded. "Do you remember that one time your students were doing a cute little baking thing, and you had to make cookies for the event." you reminisced drunkenly

He grimaced. "Don't remind me."

"HA, they said they tasted like playdough." your laugh continued until it died out. he watched you carefully leaning on the island counter, you were drunk, but not stupid. "What?" you asked.

"Why are you here." It was more than a statement than a question. "For Ayato, I said I was gonna-"

"That's not true, you would've already asked about her, I'm going to ask again-" He moved from the counter and walked around until he was in front of you. "Why are you here."

At this point you were no longer drunk, probably slightly tipsy, and now you were starting to regret doing this in the first place.

you were so dumb, so entirely dumb to think you'd be able to resist the smell of him and his stupid cookie candle, you shouldn't have even entered his home, but you did, and now you were here.

your hands reached out to him, he didn't make an effort to move or stop you, if anything it felt like he was moving closer to you, and he definitely was when you felt his warm lips.

oh this was getting out of hand very quickly, but it felt so normal

his hands trailed down to your waist, he was the firs to deepen the kiss you went along with it, his stubble scratched your chin, somthing you oddly missed.

he backed you up to the fridge rocking it slightly, your fingers curled into the hair on the back of his neck, through your heavy kiss, the baby monitor on his counter began to exude the noises of your daughter.

in almost an instant you pushed him away, your brain entering back into your skull. Ayato continued to whine. he was still huffing, he glanced over to the monitor, "I'm sorry-"

"You should go." he interrupted.

Your mouth opened and closed, "Yeah, okay." you responded.

and now your sitting outside his door a few moments later wondering.

what the fuck just happened?

#bnha smau #mha #mha fanfiction #mha headcanons #aizawa smau #aizawa x y/n #aizawa shota x reader #mha aizawa #aizawa x reader #bnha aizawa #aizawa shouta #x fem!reader #aizawa shōta

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angellettes · 2 years ago

Text

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 ➔ JACK CHAMPION

─ synopsis. reader is an actress and jack champion. She is playing the part of Ethan landry's girlfriend in scream VI and accomplice

─ notes. I'm not a big fan of how I wrote this it kinda sucks but I hope you guys like it ♡ genre/warnings.. none for this chapter just pure fluff!♡ my page is minors dni. this chapter is suitable for any age but minors are not welcome on my page for their own safety

You and Jack had been dating for 3 years, and unknowingly were both casted for Scream VI. You hadn't found out about both getting casted until you had to meet the cast members before shooting was set to start. Certainly the experience of being a couple and playing a couple in a literal horror movie was Certainly interesting.

you both were getting ready on set to start filming, as you had a conversation about how funny it was that you were unknowingly casted in the same movie and playing as a couple in the movie, and how funny it was. your character's name was Amira lynn. You quite liked your character. It was simple but not boring. Your character was supposed to be a fashion major, and you were also the accomplice of Ethan Landry. Your role was interesting, had a good smart, but kinda ditzy personality.

The first few days of shooting got a little boring because you were there in a lot of the movie. Your character was sort of like ethan's alibi. When Ethan wasn't around during an attack you had to vouch for him. As the characters got more suspicious of Ethan you guys had to make a little plan to get them off track, so you staged an attack by ghostface. The filming for your attack was thrilling and kind of fun, as it involved getting chased around, thrown into walls, and getting tackled several times. Next thing you knew your character was dead during the attack scene after Mindy accused Ethan. You getting killed got them off track.

You stuck around on set for the rest of the time until your last scene which would be the reveal. Your character was Ethan's accomplice, who would make calls, do occasional killing, and vouched for him if they got suspicious.

"now die a fucking virgin" Jenna seethes out as Jack's characters dies by getting stabbed in the throat. You scream out and run towards his "dead boddy and hold him "please don't leave" you sobbed out. Then your character dies by being shot in the back. You flop down on the ground next to jack, holding his hand, talking about how in another happier life you would've gotten away with the gruesome crimes you did, and would've graduated college and got married. Melissa walks up to you, shooting you in the head, and then your part is done.

At the premiere of the movie interviewers went wild and swarmed around you asking questions about you it felt to play the roles, and how was your reaction to the fans seeing you both in the same movie. You had know about the shipping mostly from fan edits of you both. And the reason why the public was shipping you is because they didn't know you and Jack were dating for 3 years. Tonight you guys were revealing it.

"How do you both feel about being shipped together by the fans?" the interviewer asks. You and Jack look at eachother with a grin. "Well funny thing is that me and Y/N have been dating for 3 years so I mean it kinda makes us feel giddy" Jack says with a confident look on his face as his arm is wrapped around your waist. All the interviewers had the most priceless reactions after the statement. Made you wonder how people on social media were gonna take it.

When you were on your way home, you checked Twitter and Instagram. You both were shocked to see people were calling you the hottest couple, and some made comments about the fact that you hid it for 3 years, but some weren't shocked because they kind of already had hints and figured it out.

Once you got home you and Jack felt so giddy about the things they said, as you got comfortable, making little comments about it, and laughing, as you held eachother. You both got in bed and immediately Javk pulled you right flush to him, as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. It was nights like this after a busy day that felt the most euphoric. Holding eachother thinking about how you would go about the next day, and just having some cute pillow talk. You both decided to have a scream movie marathon as you fell asleep, feeling eachother's closeness and warmth against eachother. You were so happy to be with this amazing boy.

You both decided to go out the next morning, and get some things to eat, and go shopping, and just have a little day together in celebration of your reveal, and finishing the movie. As you got home there were a ton of notifications on your phone. You opened your phone to see, and saw a post of Twitter, saying " Jack Champion and Y/N L/N spotted today at ///", the post had several pictures of you and Jack walking. You called him over to see. and once he saw he laughed. You closed your phone and looked up at the tall, curly haired, giddy boy you lived with all your heart. He wrapped him arms around you and laid kisses on the crown of you head, and going down to your neck.

"On camera and off, we're always sweet as sugar, and I love that about us. I'm happy we don't have to hide anymore, baby. I love you with all my heart" Jack coos at you, his arms still wrapped around you leaning his head on yours. You sigh in contentment and entangle your fingers with his. "I'm so glad we don't have to hide anymore either. I love you with all my heart, jack". You both looked up at eachother smiling, as you leaned into eachother, and your lips finally met his you knew that no matter what, Jack wold always be by your side, and he knew you would always be by his.

do not plagiarize, translate,or repost my work.

finished- April 8, 2023 , 9:16 AM

#🎀—⋆·˚ ༘❛ 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆'𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔˚ ༘♡ ⋆‧₊˚#jack champion x y/n #jack champion imagine #jack champion x reader #ethan landry x reader #jack champion x actress reader #jack champion scream #jack champion fluff #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry fluff

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olderthannetfic · 2 months ago

Note

Someone recently left a comment on one of my fics that they were disappointed I wasn't addressing any of the criticism or comments I got on Goodreads. After all, I reply to comments on the actual fic. Why am I ignoring the Goodreads commenters?

Well, 1. I didn't know there was a Goodreads page for my fanfic 2. I think if they wanted a reply they'd say it where I'm known to reply to every single comment without fail and 3. the kind of dumbass who treats 800k of free fanfics in a series like something they paid for is not the sort of person I want to engage with. If 800k of stories, with main stories, tie-ins, prequel asides, missing scenes, etc. for free wasn't to your liking, just... go read another? We have stories in this fandom whose whole series clock in at over a million words. We have stories where people have done fan songs and fanart and fancomics tying into their main work. We have stories with multiple timelines. You have so many options, all of them totally free and easy to access. If my stories, which I fully admit ares flawed and show some of my weaknesses as an author, don't do it for you, you have options. You have wonderful options.

If I had an editor and a publisher and my stories were actual books, I wouldn't have this reaction to this comment. But these stories have one person working on them total. I'm not making income off of this. This is what I write while working two jobs, for fun. As much as I do view writing fanfic as something that helps me learn the ins and outs of writing and put my all into it, it's going to be rougher than if I'd had help with it or had time to do more drafts than the three I normally do.

And if I was known for ducking criticism, I would get having comments on another site. There are authors in my fandom who delete anything that's not praise. But I have had long conversations with my haters in which I take everything in good faith and explain my writing choices, word choices and ideas. I have my tumblr which is just about my fandom stuff listed in the AN of every chapter. DMs are open and anon is on. My Dreamwidth account, also under the same name, also has DMs open. I have publicly stated when I have made shit narrative choices and owned that yes, sometimes I have genuinely dropped the ball. This has influenced later chapters where things go off of the original outline in order for the shit choice to have consequences in a way that makes sense and feels true to the characters in the story.

So "why are you hiding from the Goodreads commenters?!" feels like the most baffling thing I've ever been asked. I tried to be nice about it, but all I could think was, "why didn't the Goodreads commenters who wanted a reply post their comments where they know I 100% would've responded to it?"

Madness!

(Also, lol, half the pro shit with a lot of comments on Goodreads is barely edited. Maybe they were bitching about content? But if it was whining about craft, the bar is in the floor and they have nothing to complain about.)

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carmesi-butterfly · 19 days ago

Text

childhood nostalgia with enhypen. part 1

this turned out super shitty im sorry t__t it's prolly my first time writing since march lolzies despite everything i hope you like it!!

enhypen's heeseung! jungwon! sunoo! sunghoon! + gn! reader. word count 798. warnings none. not proofread.

heeseung: searching "aliens caught on camera" on youtube.

“are you being serious? this is obviously fake!” your words were accompanied by a small giggle, “why do all these videos are recorded with shitty cameras? i can't even identify what's going on”

“what do you mean by fake?!” his indignation was more than clear, “look at how the flying saucer approaches the person; it's pretty visible” the video played on repeat a few times, pointing at this apparent ‘ovni.’

“where did you find this video? it has only 200 views, don't tell me you've been scrolling through youtube for so long that you started to find videos that only you and the person who posted it saw”

“that doesn't matter; see this one,” he said while clicking on another video, changing it to another with better quality and more illumination. “there! look at it! it's right there, imagine you're just walking by a lonely road trying to go home and an ovni starts following you”

if it was anyone else saying something like this to you you would've just laughed, but knowing your boyfriend and his beliefs, this was really serious, his big deer eyes looking at you in search of an opinion on the matter while putting the most unhinged and undiscovered alien videos of the internet.

jungwon: playing love testers.

It was your idea at first, while recalling your times as a kid with free and unlimited access to the internet the memory of you using those famous pages for kids that “calculated” your affinity with your crush by just putting their name or zodiac sign popped on your mind like a popcorn, you had to find those webs and use them with your boyfriend, it was a life or death matter!

“seventy percent?! this is not accurate, it should say one hundred…” you said in distress as if this ‘love calculating’ page would define the future of your relationship.

“I will try using our full names,” suggested Jungwon, who in the beginning was kind of reluctant about this, maybe because he wasn't interested or found it boring, but in the end, it was just a silly activity he could do with his partner. What he didn't count on was that it would become his mission to reach the hundred percent in every net he could find, reaching to the point of finding the webs you frequented as a kid to do the same. “yoi! I told you, a hundred percent! Now our names and zodiac signs are compatible.” The enormous amount of pride his expression demonstrated couldn't be described by words.

sunoo: learning vocaloid’s mirror dances.

a mirrored dance tutorial of ‘romeo and cinderella’ by hatsune miku sounded on repeat in one of the practice rooms of hybe’s building; the chorus could be heard on repeat, accompanied by your clumsy movements and the frustrated noises you would make every time you got something wrong, luckily, when you were about to reach the last level of insanity and give up on learning the choreography, your boyfriend came to your rescue! and with a lot of groceries from the convenience store.

“sunoo! how am i supposed to do this step? i'm trying but i can't get it right…” your defeated look was funny to see by your partner; doing this was his idea as a ‘fun activity’ to do and bond, but your poor ability to dance was making it difficult for you. fortunately, you have an amazing boyfriend and dance partner who will help you with everything you need!

“ooh, which part? i will help you”

the young couple stood bending in front of the ipad watching what parts were more difficult for you, and after rewatching it a few times to get the movements right sunoo proceeded to teach you everything step by step, he was patient with you because of your inexperience on the topic but couldn't stop himself from teasing you a few times if your motions were awkward.

sunghoon: playing dance dance revolution.

the levels of frustration and humiliation both of you felt couldn't even be described in words, seeing a kid that couldn't reach the ten-year-old mark publicly beating your asses in this dancing machine felt embarrassing.

“you are an idol, where are your dancing abilities?!” you muttered to your partner, who was more than immersed in the child’s dancing.

“the company should recruit him” was the only thing his mouth dropped.

“i can't believe it,” your sigh took sunghoon out of his trance. it was kind of fun seeing the pout that decorated your face, expressing your emotions through it.

“let's try again, but i don't think you will be capable of following my pace” such a cocky comment could only leave your partner’s lips, especially now with his ‘arrogant’ mood.

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #yang jungwon x reader #jungwon x reader #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #kim sunoo x reader #sunoo x reader #enhypen imagines

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echobx · 1 month ago

Note

Trick or treat! 👻

thanks for the ask 🥰🥰🥰

author's note: this is a fic I started but I will never finish, so it ends before anything happens that would actually be interesting. It's basically like foreplay that ends in a blank page. idk okay. I never finished it bc I didn't know how to continue, it's not like I can't tell you what was supposed to happen after, I very juch could, but I was never capable of writing it down and that's been like this for nearly a whole year cause I wrote this in late December last year. anyway, no more talking, here's the start of an unfinished fic.

summary/idea: y/n and JJ spend a day together on a boat in the open sea and use the time they have appropriately

word count: 1.8k

warnings: making out, suggestive language, JJ PoV, established relationship, fem!Kook!reader

This is 100% unedited and NOT finished!!!

ask game

“I know nothing about boats, I would need someone who knows what they are doing, the best one you got,” I heard her sweet voice trying to charm Guffy. “I'll pay extra if he's pretty,” she said and when I glanced up I could see him put a few bills into his pocket. “JJ!” he called out and I had to bite a grin away while she pretended to not know me at all. I walked over to them, cleaning off my hands and smiling politely to keep up the facade. “What do you need?” I asked. “One trip on the Ariadne, and be careful with our very charming client,” he said and eyed me intensely. “I won't disappoint, wouldn't dream of it,” I said and grinned before turning towards my girl. “M’lady,” I mused and held my hand out for her. She held onto me as I guided her towards the small yacht, before I went back to grab a cooler and Guffy pulled me away one last time. “I don't care what you do, but if she comes back happy, you'll get half of the winnings, do you hear me?” he whispered while staring into my eyes and I didn't really know how to feel about it. Maybe it would've been different if it had been anyone but y/n, but it still would've felt off that he even suggested it. “I'll see what I can do,” I said and grasped the cooler tighter before walking away to the boat.

I drove us far enough out to not get annoyed by anyone passing by, far enough to be able to do whatever we wanted without anyone seeing. “I heard you pay extra when they're pretty,” I teased her after dropping the anchor. y/n was lying on the wooden planks, bathing herself in the sunlight as if I wasn't there at all. “I like my boys pretty,” she replied before batting her eyes at me. “Sunbathing with a bikini on will leave lines,” I whispered while leaning down over her and she had pulled me in quicker than I could've said my own name. Her lips pressed against mine in a needy kiss and I forgot everything for a moment until she let go again and giggled. “This was the best idea I ever had, right after the one where I decided to not give up on making you fall for me.” “Pretty sure I fell for you way before I even knew I was capable of it,” I chuckled while walking into the small cabin.

She got up and followed me, the opened wrap dress flowing in the wind. “Oh, but you wouldn't have even noticed if I hadn't made sure you would.” “Took longer than you wanted it to,” I mumbled as she hugged me from behind. “Yeah, well, better that than never, right?” She said quietly. “How much did you pay him? He offered me half when I bring you back ‘happy’,” I drew quotation marks in the air as I said it and she giggled. “Oh, you'd throw me overboard if you knew, that's also why he didn't give you a timeslot, we have as much time as we want, we could stay a whole day, maybe even two, and he'd still have some left,” she pressed her face in between my shoulders while talking. “So, you are paying for me to fuck you? Maybe I should be turned off by that. Tell me again why that doesn't turn me off?” I asked while turning around to be able to look at her. “One, you love me so much. Two, you'd still do anything for money, and getting to have this much fun and making more than ever is probably very fucking good, I would think, especially because you love me. Three, I paid for you to spend the day with me, I can't help it if all you want to do is make me cum over and over and over and ov-” I cut her off with a kiss, sloppy and breathtaking, my hand fisting her hair behind her head, while hers rested on my hips, pressing her hips against my hardening cock. “You know what, I think you should go and look through my bag, maybe you'll find something interesting,” she hushed, her lips ghosting mine before she pulled away and spun me around as if I didn't weigh anything.

I picked up her bag and walked back over to where she had sat down. She looked like a model, the way her legs were angled on the white cushions, my sunglasses on her nose and the painted red lips drawn to a smile. Putting the bag down beside me as I sat down opposite of her, I started looking through it and putting the most interesting things on the small table in between us; teak wood, easy to clean, just like the rest of the fancy boat, apart from the cushions maybe, but I so rarely had to clean those before. “And?” she asked, anticipation swinging in her voice as she pulled the glasses down. “I didn't think this bag could fit this much,” I mumbled and put an Uno game and a small toiletry bag out, placing both on the table. Next followed a small box, which was locked, and when I gave her a questioning look she just smiled a bit wider before nodding to signal me to keep going. “If this is what I think it is-” I muttered while pulling a black hardshell travel kit out of the bag. “Please don't be something else,” I whispered to myself while slowly pulling the zipper open and revealing the camera inside. “Shit, I love being right,” I hissed as I thought about all of the things I would do to her later. “I see you like what I have in mind,” she giggled.

“How did you think of this?” I wondered while picking up the camera and turning it on, the settings were put to photographs and I couldn't stop myself from taking a few of her as she spoke. “Well, you know how Pamela Anderson had that tape of her and her ex husband leaked back in the 80s or 90s or whenever that was? I mean, that was horrible, but I know that they filmed mostly their honeymoon, which was on a boat, and I thought that would be a funny idea. And the camera isn't a rental, and I made sure that the SD card has a failsafe, it can only be accessed with a password that only I have, for now, and if it's typed in wrong more than three times, boom, no more anything. It's pretty smart, Pope did that for me, took a bit longer than I had expected, but better late than never, right?” “How good is that password?” I asked and put the camera back up, in between her explanation I had to take it down to just admire her as she was, smart and sexy and more than I could've ever wished for. “It's extremely long, and hard,” she said and flashed her eyebrows at me. “I don't think taking ‘JJ’s pretty dick’ as a password is as safe as I want it to be,” I joked and she threw a small pillow at me, that I barely caught before it could fall into the sea. “These pillows are expensive, just so you know,” I said but she just rolled her eyes at me before putting the sunglasses back on. “Now I won't tell you,” she said while crossing her arms in front of her chest and pouting in a joking manner. “How big is that card?” I asked while taking another shot, zooming in on her legs. “I don't think we'll be able to fill it in one day, not even in two,” she said with a mischievous smile.

“What if I wanna print one of these?” I asked and took another shot just as she pulled the glasses down a little. “Why would you wanna print them?” she asked. “To hang one up at home? I don't know, why wouldn't I?” I shrugged slightly and she got up and sat down next to me, taking the camera in her hand and looking through all the pictures I had already taken of her. “Maybe, but only if I get to take some of you too,” she said and got up again, just to take a picture and look at it for a while. “I'm not that good at this, my phone is easier,” she sounded defeated. “Show me,” I whispered after getting up and placing myself behind her. The picture wasn't bad, just a bit unsteady and unfocused. I pressed the little “auto” button and told her to try it again, while leaning against the railing. “I think this is better, but I hate that I have to use the fucking dummy mode to take good pictures of you,” she pouted and dragged herself over to me. “You are so effortlessly good at this, and I'm shit.” “Nothing bad about that, you are way better at so many things than me too, I can barely keep up.” My words managed to conjure a small smile on her lips. “Keep talking,” she hushed. “All right, you're way better at baking than me, or just cooking at all, which I will work on, I promise,” I wanted to keep going but she had to laugh. “You burnt spaghetti,” she was basically guffawing. “I'm gonna learn,” I tried to defend myself a little but had to laugh too, her laughter was just too addictive. “I love you so much,” she mused after managing to control her laughter. “Love you so much too, princess,” I whispered and kissed her gently.

“Do you wanna play a game of Uno?” she whispered against my lips and I opened my eyes to look at her, already staring back at me. “I have made up new rules, better rules.” “Tell me about those rules,” I said while pulling her back towards the table, which was still filled with the things from her bag. “Oh, you'll see in the game, I only changed a single thing really,” y/n was as vague as she could be and I didn't know if I was actually that fond of the game without knowing what would happen. I cleaned the table and we started playing, but when I placed the +4 card she didn't groan out of annoyance like she usually did, but instead grinned and took off the flimsy fabric of the dress, which was really only draped over her shoulders now, and then she kept playing without taking four. “That's a rule you'll never use when we play with anyone else,” I said she grinned a bit wider. After that it didn't take long for me to lose my shirt, and for her everything else she had on and suddenly the game was forgotten.

#jj maybank #~ask game #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #~fanfiction

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