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venus616 · 2 years

Note

Hi!! Requesting a spicy tasm!peter fic where he puts his photography skills to use if ya know what I mean 🔥🫶🏽

his muse; {p.p.}

Pairing: peter parker x f!reader (gif is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker)

Summary: peter puts his photography skills to use when you're naked

Warnings: established relationship, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, oral sex (blowjob), praise kink (if you squint), photos during sex, language, unprotected sex, 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: hi. i love this trope So Much… like more than you will ever know, but bc i love it and i’ve seen it done multiple times with peter i was very scared to even do anything with it sjnksks but here is my finished product, i hope you like it~

(Also- it is my gift to anyone who actually likes reading my content bc ive been gone for a While and will be gone for another 2-3 weeks bc finals are not fun! so i hope this is good, enjoy!)

You’re putting away your shared laundry when you hear a loud noise on your window sill. You don’t even flinch this far into your relationship and only shake your head, separating your clothes from his. The window opens letting in a cool breeze and Peter’s book bag hits the ground before he gets inside.

It's only then you look and give his body, clad in his suit, a scan and smile. “You okay?” You ask. The sun already set and the crisp winter air started to fill the room.

He scoffs before shutting the window. You turn your body around from the basket in front of you to see Peter shaking his head while taking his camera out of his bag.

The professional camera Peter spent a year saving up for when he was 18 was sat next to your much less efficient Polaroid camera. On it, there was a photo of you two celebrating your anniversary together recently. The flash showing you kissing Peter on the cheek, he’s blushing at the attention and eyes closed from the flash.

Peter smiled at the memory before he continued speaking.

“Why do people think it’s okay to commit crime when I’m just getting off my shift?” He sighed before setting down his bag next to your bed.

“They’re so inconsiderate,” You pout playfully while folding his clothes into his reserved drawer at your place.

Peter looks up from unpacking and focuses on your ass poking up from your position. You feel his eyes on you as your t-shirt hangs loosely on your body, and the hair on your legs prick up from the cold in the room.

Peter takes off his mask revealing his disheveled hair and takes in the sight of you like it’s his last.

Your lacy underwear decorating the plump flesh of your butt, reminding Peter of how quickly he had to leave this morning before getting to appreciate for bandaging him up last night.

His eyes continued to scan up, seeing the old t-shirt frame your shape, admiring it as if he had x-ray vision.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Peter is brought out of his thoughts hearing your soft voice, taunting him for his staring problem.

“Don’t tempt me,” Peter quips back. He shakes his head before tossing his mask in your empty hamper. Sitting on your bed and bending over to remove his boots, his ears don’t miss your footsteps as you saunter to him.

You place your feet in between his while he looks back up to you, removing the rest of his suit.

“It’s never stopped you before,” You cross your arms while he slips out of his suit, leaving his web shooters on. The suit is strewn across the floor and your eyes focus on Peter’s body.

No matter how beat up he was, Peter remains to be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You ran your hands over his, now, yellow ribs. Compared to the purple constellation he had yesterday, you were grateful for his superhuman healing.

He had a nasty fall yesterday, left with some scars and bruising, but thankfully this time you didn’t have to stitch him up.

You even notice the scratch on his arm is almost gone but Peter liked wearing your special bandaids. He likes giving you a reason to buy more cartoon ones for him.

Peter watches your eyes carefully scan his body for anything else and adores you for it. Still, he hates making you worry.

“You weren’t naked before.”

A smile creeps up on your face, a giggle disguised as a scoff when you answer: “I’m not naked.”

You don’t realize you set yourself up for Peter’s response until he smirks. His hands snake up underneath your shirt to toy with your nipples, already hard because of the cold air lingering in the room.

A hiss escapes your mouth at feeling his larger, colder hands grip your boobs. Peter slightly grins at his effect on you. He pulls at the bottom of your shirt before raising it up your body. You oblige, pulling it over your head to toss it across your room.

His face lit up at your frontal nudity, hands placed on either side of your hips tugging at your underwear.

“Let’s change that.”

You roll your eyes at his response, but not without a smile plastered on your face. You could feel the heat pooling in between your thighs and the excitement in your stomach.

“What position should I be in?” You shudder under his callus fingers. Peter lightly furrows his eyebrows when you turn, gesturing to your polaroid camera from your bedside table.

His face relaxes when he registers what you guys are doing, not realizing how serious you were being.

Your eyes flicker up and down his body when you turn to face him, noticing his erection bulging out of his briefs. Leaning down you use your hand to palm him through the fabric, feeling his cock pulsate in your hand.

“On your knees,” You whip your head up when Peter says that, his hands still roaming around your body.

You quirk your eyebrow up in response. Pressing your forehead and nose to his, you plant a kiss onto his lips. Your hands are now on either of his thighs, sinking lower onto the ground as the kiss deepens.

Before you can fully get down, you hear a light thwip and break the kiss.

You see Peter’s wrist is flicked out with his web shooters activated, latched on to your polaroid camera. There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes before he pulls it into his hands.

Resting on your knees, you’re before him with your fingers tracing the waistband of his boxers. You carefully watch for his reactions, but he’s refamiliarizing himself with your flimsy camera you got in your teenage years as a novelty.

You cross your arms on his legs and look up at him, the camera points at you and all you can focus on is his wide smile behind the camera. “Let’s see if I still know how this works,” Peter jokes.

You repose with both your hands on your knees, pushing your breasts out in between your arms. You didn’t realize they were hardly the focus of the photo (but still included, Peter was only human after all).

The photo snaps and you remember you have to get used to the flash again. Blinking a few times to get used to the discomfort, the photo prints out and Peter seems pleased with himself already.

“It hasn’t even developed yet,” You taunt, you resume palming him as you assume that was the extent of his practice shots.

Peter shrugs while shaking the photo as gently as possible. “Hey, who’s the photographer here? I know a good subject when I see it,” He nudges you.

When the photo barely develops, he shows you and you see yourself: half naked on your knees with your face fully in the photo. You were surprised he included that much of your face, and managed to catch you looking as confident as you could. But it was easy when Peter was behind the camera, he never fails to make you feel like his only muse.

You blush and look away from the photo as you continue to massage him. Peter’s breath hitches at the rate at which you go at, and you smirk to yourself.

No matter how much control Peter took in bed, he wasn’t afraid to show you how quickly he’d fold for you. It was one of the many things you appreciated about him. Another one was just how vocal he was, his whimpers before you even got to touch him were making your underwear dampen.

When his dick starts twitching, you pull his boxers down, his cock slaps up to his stomach while he watches your movements. Locking eyes with him, you wrap both your hands around his shaft before slowly jacking him off.

You’re mesmerized by the way his body is flexed under your touch, you almost don’t hear what he says.

“Your mouth,” He breathes out.

You sit up higher on your knees and kiss up his happy trail, lingering when you get closer to his cock. You hear his groan and look up, meeting his eyes.

You raise your eyebrows. “My mouth, what?”

Your lips quirk up again, teasing him. “Use your words.”

He rolls his eyes in response but you shake your head. “I can stop,” You remind him.

His brown eyes almost bulge out his head when you say that, wrapping his own hand over yours to stop your movements from pausing. He leans over to get closer to your face, the scent of you surrounding him. Peter’s face softens at your smugness.

“Baby,” He starts. You wait to listen to how he pleads for you to stay while he leads your hands.

“I need that pretty mouth of yours to suck my cock,” He gasps out and removes his hand when you loosen your wrist in response. Your eyes soften at the praise and Peter mentally celebrates when he leans back to his original position.

You reposition yourself as well, with your neck getting to work as you lick a stripe underneath the shaft of his cock. Peter sharply inhales at the feeling and brings his head back up.

You lock eyes with him when you feel the jolt in his body and open your mouth in an ‘O’ shape around the head of his cock.

Relaxing your throat, you lower your head on his length and feel the tip of his cock hitting your uvula before you begin bobbing your head.

Caught off guard, you could taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue now. You gagged a bit and popped off him to lick it off in the most obscene way you could think of.

Peter mutters, “Just like that.” and you look up.

Forgetting he had a camera, the shutter went off to capture your tongue on the underside of his wet tip.

You collect more saliva in your mouth while you run your hand up and down his shaft. Feeling prepared enough, you go back down on him with the drool dripping on his cock on your hands.

Peter went crazy at the heat of your mouth and the sight of your lips around him. The only thought he had was to get the camera out again to keep this moment forever.

Getting slack jawed at this, he tangles his hands in your hair but doesn’t change your pace. He only starts pushing it out of your face as it gets in the way.

You look up at him and see Peter pointing the camera at you as you have half his cock in your mouth. The first shot is taken, and he tries to not move too much as the photo prints out immediately. He releases a few breathy moans at the pace you're going at while he places the new photo on the side.

Peter silently gestures to you to get him out your mouth so you release him with a pop, flipping your hair to the side as you continue to jack him off.

“That’s good,” He mutters, when he places the camera at his eye before snapping a new photo.

“I probably look insane,” You grumble, already feeling self conscious at how messy your hair looks, coupled alongside the drool and precum at your mouth.

Peter shakes his head and pulls you in closer by your waist and you yelp, finding yourself now pinned under him on the bed.

“Never,” He shakes his head, attaching his mouth to your tit as he pulls your underwear off. You immediately moan at his aggression on your sensitive nipples and he chuckles against your skin when he feels you flinch.

Peter’s calloused hands find your clit and start massaging it, and you throw your head back in pleasure when he finds his rhythm.

You feel a twinge of disappointment when he removes his mouth from your tits but you look up to see the camera watching you, and a shutter going off before you are even ready.

“Pete,” You warn. Your sternness doesn’t last when he slips in a finger in your embarrassingly wet cunt. You almost mewl at how full he makes you with just one finger.

“You looked so pretty moaning like that,” Peter explains while his finger curls into you. He knew what he was doing when he smiled again, leaning down to kiss you on the lips.

Your annoyance was no match for his desperation as you eventually gave in. One of his hands cupped your cheek while his lips were frantic on yours. He’s greedy for you, almost lapping up your tongue with his own before he pulls away.

“Just let go, forget the camera is even there,” He mumbles in your neck when you gasp at the absence of his lips.

He slips in another finger and thrusts faster, making you nod mindlessly as you surrender all control.You grip onto his bicep as he pumps in and out of you, begging him for more friction. You can hear how wet you were, and while you were embarrassed, Peter relished in it.

“Can you take a third for me baby?” He asks in a low voice as he sits up on the bed in between your legs. You nod vigorously but he quickly removes both fingers.

You open your mouth to complain but instead yelp out when Peter pulls both your legs closer to his chest as he kneels on the mattress. He set aside the camera briefly.

“Yeah?” He searches for an answer.

“Yes,” You grunt out, already desperate for much more than his fingers.

He massages your heat with his fingers again before he inserts three fingers in, jolting your body to sit up. You let out an obscene moan and couldn’t help but to massage your clit while he fucks you with his fingers.

One hand being in competition with Peter’s while the other massages your boobs, you’re almost too dazed to notice the shutter then went off while you were closer to an orgasm.

“Fucking incredible,” Peter breathes out before putting the camera with the new photo down, and leans down to kiss you. His pace never falters, making you whimper against his lips.

“I’m about to cum,” You announce shakily. Peter swallows your pleas with a kiss and just curls his fingers against your g-spot faster. You feel that familiar build up in the pit of your stomach and the pace of your clenching pick up.

“Cum all over my fingers baby,” He answers, and you immediately let go. You hold Peter closer as you cum, heaving underneath him like you’re in heat. Your body Peter continues to finger you but only because he loves the way you suction around him.

He still lets you come down from your high, kissing you through it and massaging your breasts with his free hand during. When your breathing slows down, he sits back up and removes his fingers from you.

“Need you inside of me,” You remind him as you reach over to palm his already hard cock against his stomach.

“Gonna let me cum inside of you?” He asks, holding his cock in his hand already glistening with your wetness. He readjusts to line himself up to your pussy awaiting your answer.

You cock your head with your arms supporting your body from the bed. “I’ll let you cum wherever you want,” You say.

Peter grunts at your answer before inserting himself into your entrance, and immediately throws his head back at the feeling, your warmth and wetness engulfing him.

“So fucking tight,” He comments, and you silently agree as you feel yourself stretching out on him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched around him.

“Fuck,” you moan out as he finds a comfortable pace for the both of you.

Or that’s what you thought.

You hear a shutter from your camera and realize he took a picture (or two) of you in this position beneath him, moaning out for him flat on the bed with his cock inside of you.

You didn’t have time to care as when he got his shots he immediately started to rock into you, and you felt the strength of him against your thighs before he picked up the pace.

You watch him thrust into you and slowly lose himself above you.

“I love the way you feel around me,” He pants out, closing in on your body with his forearms framing your face. You nod as the bed squeaks and your hands roam his body, stopping at his shoulders and the nape of his neck.

Peter obliges to your physical demands and dips down to suck on your neck, causing you to whimper as your body continues to jolt from his thrusts. His soft brown hair tickles your skin as his teeth chew at the sensitive skin in your neck. You don’t know whether to giggle or moan, but you’re vocal regardless.

“Go faster,” You whine, becoming impatient with him.

“I’m not gonna last if I go faster,” He growls against your skin, sending vibrations down your spine. He thrusted slower, bringing his hand down to the back of your knee to bend it closer to your body. You felt him hitting your g-spot repeatedly that you knew you weren’t going to last any longer like that.

“I don’t care,” You cry out. Peter scoffs in your neck as if to say a begrudging ‘Fine.’ and kisses you on the cheek before kneeling back up. He’s already twitching inside you before he begins thrusting again. You almost forget what you got yourself into until you feel his balls slap against your cunt repeatedly.

A string of curses escape both your mouths, yours because he’s just so big and you can feel the tension build up in your stomach again. Peter’s cusses are because you just won’t stop clenching around him in response, he feels like he might burst the next time you tighten around him.

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” He mutters before spilling into you.

You go slack jawed at the feeling of him cumming inside of you. It feels hot between your thighs, in between the burning feeling of his hard thighs slapping against your softer ones, and feeling him twitch and coat your insides and the outside of your cunt with his load.

You cry out as he almost slips out of you, but realize he’s gonna take another picture. You’re not sure what to do, or what exactly he’s capturing but you decide to listen to his earlier advice and let it happen. Peter places the camera on his eye while his cock almost goes soft half away inside of you, and you can feel him rubbing his cum around your thighs and up your hips.

He mutters another curse, before snapping the picture. You close your eyes and your legs when you decide that that was the last photo and miss how Peter compiles all of them on your bedside table.

Eventually, you look up and see him pulling back up his underwear and beckoning you to see the photos. When you get up and see 6 photos lined up from tonight.

One of you on your knees, your breasts protruding and almost being the main focus of the photo if it wasn't for your face. You want to laugh at how excited your eyes looked but you know it was only because of who was behind the camera.

Two more during and after the blowjob, one of you in the middle taking Peter in your mouth and giving the camera (but really, Peter) siren eyes. The other was you slightly disheveled, but Peter swore you were the prettiest girl in the world with drool around your mouth.

A third of you being fingered, your head is thrown back in unfiltered pleasure from his fingers, your breasts sitting high on your chest as you’re on your back and your nipples were glistening in the photo due to the suckling that happened off camera. While scanning this photo, you realize that being caught in the moment wasn’t such a bad thing and Peter is silently celebrating he caught your O face in action.

The fourth was similar but you had more control over your pleasure as you’re on camera massaging your breasts and hand on your pussy. You feel like a vixen with the way you’re fondling yourself, Peter silently agrees as he knows you look like one.

Fifth and sixth photo show the before and after of Peter fucking you senseless. Fifth with your body being still underneath his, and the photo displaying that exhilarating feeling you both get when your bodies meet in the first thrust. And the sixth photo when you’re both comfortable enough to come down from your high together. The sticky, white cum is slayed over your sopping, wet pussy and Peter’s fingers and cock in the frame to remind you who fucks you like this.

“Do you like these? I can burn them away if you don’t,” Peter runs his hands through his hair nervously, not trying to make you uncomfortable if the bit had gone too far.

You only shake your head with a laugh bubbling in your throat at his consideration and hug his much taller frame from behind. It felt good to rest your head on his back, while his arms engulf yours from the front.

“I love them, I love you,” You speak low but loudly enough so he can hear, and feel, your words.

“Which ones do you want to keep?” He asks.

You know it’s out of courtesy, just one of those things you two got used to asking each other after taking pictures on this camera. You kept the silly anniversary photo while he kept the very nice one he took of you.

“It’s all for you,” You answer. Peter sputters quickly, turning back around to see your face when you say it, you only nod in full seriousness.

He leans down to kiss your cheek as a thank you and you only smile back.

“I think you’d get more use out of it than me,” You add with a tinge of humor. Peter only plays it off with another suggestion while hugging you from the front. His arms wrap around your shoulders while you rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“You know what though?” He asks, trailing his hands down to your naked hips, stopping to cup the round of your ass.

“What?” You mutter in his hold, already feeling your body heat up at the thought of round 2.

Peter smirks before snaking one of his hands to your pussy. Knowing that you’re about to start throbbing, at the thought of him. You gasp before he speaks and he chuckles while he proposes his new idea.

“I think it’s only fair if we make a movie now.”

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inuiiwonderland · 1 month

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Twisted Captivity

Chapter 3

Twst third years x fem reader

A/n: Sorry for the long wait! This chapter is a bit longer than the first and second one so I hope you guys enjoy! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes and grammar it’s like really late rn and I’m sleep deprived😵‍💫

Words:1.3k

You spent half an hour talking to both ace and deuce in the heartslabyul enclosure. The two were absolutely curious creatures. They asked all sorts of questions about humans and what they eat. (With the best of their ability since they couldn’t speak the human language all to well)

You of course answered their questions with the best of your ability. While the three of you chatted you also decided to ask your fair share of questions about merpeople.

The two of them were rather thrilled when you asked. With the little bit of human language that they know, they started telling you about all sorts of traditions, stories, and cultures about them and their people. You were amazed as you wrote everything- well rather try since they said so much you couldn’t keep up.

You were all so caught up in the conversation that you didn’t realize that you still had to go visit the savanaclaw enclosure!

“Shit! I’m so sorry you two but I have to go!”

“Go?”

“Why?”

“I forgot that Crowley also asked for me to go visit the savanaclaw enclosure! Shoot I’m late! Bye guys I’ll see you two later!” You quickly grabbed your things and bolted right out of there. The two mermen sadly watched as you left.

You ran as fast as you could to get to the next enclosure that you were supposed to be at 20 minutes ago.

Your lungs burned and your legs felt wobbly but you decided to ignore it all and push yourself to run even faster. The relief that ran through your body when the doors to the enclosure came into view as you slowed down and started catching your breath.

“Shit! Ah I can’t breathe-“

“You’re late!” You quickly looked up to see a man who seemed to be in his late 50s look down at you with a raised brow.

“I’m sorry!” You bowed while also trying to steady your breathing.

The man just shook his head before sighing.

“Since you’re still new, I suppose I can let this slide for today. But next time I won’t, so please make sure you make it here on time”

You could only nod as you still tried to catch your breath. The man then handed you a silver bucket. You curiously looked in only to see a pile of dead fish. You grimace at the sight before looking back at the man.

“It’s their feeding time. I suppose Crowley also mentioned that you’ll be in charge of feeding the mers, no?”

“Ah yes he did say that” you awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck as you gave him a sheepish smile.

“Well I suggest you go in and feed them. One of them is very upset right now. He doesn’t like waiting when it comes to feeding time”

“Right. And thank you”

“Mhm”

He moved out the way as you opened the door. You were once again met with a beautiful sight but too bad you didn’t have the time to gawk and admire it this time since you have hungry mers to feed.

You walked in and looked around before you saw them. There were multiple mers surrounding a giant rock and you can tell some looked very upset.

You gulp before quickly making your way over to them. One of the mers seemed to have noticed you as they chirped and whistled which caused everyone to turn and look at you.

“Sorry for the wait” The moment they saw the bucket. They grew Wild.

You gasp as some tried yanking the thing out of your hands but you quickly backed up before they could.

The hell?! They’re acting like they haven’t seen food before or something!

You quickly grabbed a fish before throwing it in the water. They all went wild so you quickly threw more in until there were only three left.

You looked around to see if everyone got one and once you saw how everyone had their own fish you let out a sigh of relief.

You looked down at the bucket and wondered if you should take it back or just give them extra.

You were in deep thought until you heard a whistle

You look down to see a mer. He pointed at the bucket and then his stomach.

“Oh! I’m sorry here” You grabbed one of the fish from the bucket before throwing it to him. The boy quickly grabs it before scarfing it down.

Poor guy….does Crowley feed any of them at all?

Your thoughts were soon interrupted when you felt webbed hands wrap around your ankles. You gasp as you look down to see the mer pointing at the bucket again.

“I’m sorry but I already gave you some already. It wouldn’t be fair to everyone if I gave you another”

The mer tilts his head in confusion before pointing at himself and shaking his head. Now you were the one confused. You watch as the mer points at the bucket again but then he turns around and points at something.

You look to see a cave. He was pointing at the cave.

“Do you have some friends in there that haven’t gotten any?” The mer only nods as you sigh.

“Alright, take me to em” The mer then motions you to follow him as he starts swimming towards the cave.

Once you two got there, you looked at him and he motions you inside. He swims right in and you follow suit. You were thankful that there was a small path for you to be able to walk right in. You were careful, making sure you didn't slip and fall right into the water.

The mer stops and calls out who you assume to be his friends.

You felt a shiver go down your spine as you swear you heard something similar to a growl. You gulp as two mermen make their presence known as the other one just swims away.

“I-I have your food” You say as you raise the bucket. One of them, the one with white hair swims up to you as you try to stay still.

Jeez….I sometimes forget how scary some look.

He eyes the bucket curiously before sniffing it. Once he is satisfied, he nods before patiently waiting for you to give him one.

“Oh! Here” You gave him the fish and he thanks you with a nod. You watch as he also scarfs it down and your heart couldn’t help but break.

Does anyone even feed them? They eat like they haven’t eaten in ages!

He senses your stare and quickly swims away. Like he was shy.

You watch as he swims deeper into the cave. You then turn to the other one who was already staring intensely at you. You gulp as you grab the last fish from the bucket and show it to him.

“Here” The mer just stares at you. You didn’t know what to say or do so you just stood there uncomfortably with a dead fish in your hand.

Damn it. Did I say or do something weird? Feels like I’m being judged.

You just carefully placed it down on one of the rocks that you saw near you before getting up.

“Well I guess it’s time for me to go. Enjoy your um…meal!” And you bolted right up out of there.

The man just watched as you ran away.

Yes he was mad that you were late with his meal but he was more surprised that you dared step foot into this cave. Some keepers either don’t feed him at all for this reason or just hand the fish to one of the two mers with him so that they can give him his food.

You were sure a interesting one that’s for sure

He grabs the fish before swimming deeper into the darkness of the cave.

What an interesting human

Taglist: @ruisann @roseapov @anunholyabomination @owodi @mochi-lover26 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @floevi @thatpersonuouknow @h0rr0r-10ver-69

#inuiiwonderland🤍#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x female reader #twst x reader #disney twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #tw: yandere #yandere themes #twst leona kingscholar #twst ruggie #twst jack #twst savanaclaw #leona x reader #leona kingscholar

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barrenclan · 9 months

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PATFW: Animal Name Systems

As more non-Clan characters get introduced to the story, I’ve been having fun coming up with the naming systems for various animals. In real life there would probably be more natural variety within a whole species, but also making up little systems is fun so I don’t care. Also, as a technical note, obviously none of these names are in “English”. They’re in whatever language animals speak. So, like, Hacksaw is not literally “hacksaw”, it’s the animal word for that object.

Cats - with the exception of warriors (who obviously have an incredibly specific naming system), cat names tend to be more loose, and can be named after many things. In general, they are shorter. House cats are also an exception, as they are named by people and so their names can be very different. Ex. Cashew, Summer, Rowan, Egret, Thrasher, Jackalope

Wolves and coyotes - like cats, wolves also have a more loose naming system. Often wolves are named after someone else, to honor them. Coyote communities are heavily linked to wolf communities, so their rules are similar. In general, they are longer. Ex. Coldbreath, Nightshade, Lucky-Foot, Antlerhorn, Ranger

Deer - deer are always named after plants. No exceptions to this. Often the plants are ones that the parents admire or enjoy. Ex. Wild Rose, Juniper, Hyssop, Maple, Lingonberry

Mountain lions - they are named after some kind of aspirational trait at birth that their parent is hoping they fulfill. Sometimes this leads to funny, ironic circumstances, but usually the kitten is shaped by their name and strives to embody it. Ex. Ferocity, Swiftness, Cunning, Power, Caution

Porcupines - for the first year of their life, porcupine kits are named after the order in which their mother gave birth to them. Ex. First, Second, Third, etc. When the porcupine has come of age, they are given their adult name. These names are short and functional, usually no more than four letters. Ex. Mud, Snap, Snow, Blue

Falcons - chicks are never given names by their parents, and are generally treated as indistinguishable when young. Once they leave the nest, falcons name themselves whatever they like. Frequently these names are inspired by human artifacts, as falcons (and many other bird cultures, as well as raccoons) value their liminal relationship to humans. Ex. Hacksaw, Highway, Black-Wing, Perils, Artemis

Bears - at birth, bears are given short, silly names, meant to be inconsequential. Ex. Fuzz, Seed, Bug, Baby. When they come of age, they are given an adult name by the eldest bear, whether it’s a large group or just a family. These names are structured as some kind of brag about the individual’s qualities, to impress others and display dominance. They are composed of two words in the trait separated by a hyphen. Ex. Longest-Claws, Fiercest-Roar, Strongest-Jaw, Thickest-Pelt. However, if the bear is disliked or considered weak, they can be also be called a version of this structure that is an insult. Ex. Dullest-Mind, Weakest-Strike, Softest-Heart. The greatest shame of all, though, is an adult bear forced to keep their childhood name.

#lore

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thepaintpirate · 1 year

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| OP characters and a Y/n that speaks another language |

Featuring: Strawhats + Allies

G/n

Luffy -

He thought you were just making up words and started copying you.

Once you explain that you're speaking a different language, maybe a native language or one you've learned, he's so impressed. Luffy's not really good with words and knowing that you know like twice as much as him is awesome.

I hc that there are accents in the OP world too and I love the hc that Luffy has a very different way of speaking than the others. I think it's adorable.

Zoro -

What. Huh? He's so confused.

Where did this come from and why has he just noticed? Zoro can be a bit of a dud when it comes to noticing some things and so it took him a minute to process. But in the end he's ultimately pretty fascinated by it. He likes the way you talk even if he can't understand you.

Sanji -

Heart burst. He's swooning like he usually does but he's also very curious. Sanji might sit with you and ask questions or have you teach him a few phrases. Maybe teach him words for food or complements he'll love that.

Nami -

Full focus on you, tell her more. She won't understand but she's listening. Nami kind of just stares at you as you speak and admires your voice, she'll absentmindedly mouth some of the easier words. It's so cute, but she thinks you're cute too.

She will make you teach her insults to give to rude creeps she comes across.

Usopp -

"Write that down, write that down!"

He's taking notes because this is so new to him, he wants to learn more. When did you learn? What part of the world does your language come from? Endless questions and endless appreciation, he's just happy to listen and ask.

Robin -

Robin knows at least one or two languages aside from being able to read the Poneglyphs, mainly because she's well travelled and had to adapt. But your language is new to her and she's very interested. What are the origins of the language, who spoke it and what does it look like in written form?

She'll ask you to teach her a little bit, she's a sponge for knowledge.

Franky -

No idea what's going on but he's happy to be along for the ride. He'll hear you say random words or sentences in your language and even if he doesn't understand he'll still say "that's super".

Brook -

A bilingual man, can't tell me otherwise. Your language is new to him and though he doesn't study languages, he'll have you exchange words he knows for ones you can teach him. Enjoy long conversations about it over tea and biscuits.

And no, no matter what he says don't teach him the word for panties.

Jinbe -

Another bilingual and he'll bond with you over that. The language he knows was one commonly used in the fishman district but was forcibly forgotten by regular merfolk because of oppression and the WG. He likes to keep it alive when he can and he'll appreciate it if you share your knowledge between eachother.

Law -

In my hc Flevance had it's own dialect which he sometimes still falls into the habit of. Law appreciates your language and finds it very soothing to listen to you talk or sing if you do. It's quite charming.

Kid -

He will yell at you at first to stop babbling and making things up until you explain that it's your language. If he likes you enough he'll apologise and let you continue. At first he's acting like he doesn't care but the more he listens to you the more he warms up to the sound. So if you randomly stop talking he'll zip around and say "Why'd you stop? Keep talking".

Killer -

Pretty neutral about this, and he compliments you on it. He thinks it could be useful in the future if you need to communicate with people. Killer likes it when you talk to yourself in little mumbles in your language, it's hard not to chuckle and look at you.

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #eustace kid #monkey d. luffy #trafalgardwaterlaw #franky #killer one piece #knight of the sea jinbe #nami #pirate hunter zoro #vinsmoke sanji #nico robin #op usopp

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kelsstars · 2 years

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CARL!GRIMES X INNO!READER

Hello Hun!! I saw your Carl grimes smut and wanted to request something, hope you are taking requests rn.

So Y/n has been at Alexandria since the start, she loves wearing skirts and things that would hug her figure thinking it’s alright (she has a lot of confidence) . It’s been a couple since Carl and his group came so like he is (20) while Y/N is (22) just a year older than him. Her parents at a young age were very strict and so she didn’t know about the adult things and so that’s why she’s innocent not knowing about what sex is. Y/n developed a crush on the boy, but was too shy to even speak to him as well as Carl. But sometimes he would try to speak with her.

Carl had these fantasies about her even would think about her every night. That is until he had enough waiting.

CONTAIN: Perverted!Carl, Praise & Degrading!Kink, DOM!Carl, Pleading!KINK, Foul!Language, pet names, SUB!Reader, Hair Pulling, Thigh!Riding, Virgin!Reader, Body!Worship, Dry Humping.

A/N: AAH, OF COURSE I ACCEPT REQUESTS!! THANK YOU FOR THIS, LOVE!! Also, apologies to my fellow non-female readers, my next fic will be gender neutral as I usually intend it to be. :) Physical feminine aspects of Y/N will be mentioned for this fic.

This one-shot is a bit long. 👍

Warnings/Summary: Swearing but the rest have been written above in the requests. :D

You’re a more closed-minded than others, especially considering your age. It’s not like you’re completely oblivious of the fallen world outside of the walls, nor are you new to swearing or shooting gun, but you are definitely somone who people would consider blind to adult situations. Shit, you didn’t know why everyone would make it a big deal when you ask where babies actually come from. Truth is, you were raised beyond strictly under a bubble made by your parents, even before the collapse of society.

Alexandria was an all time safe place for you, but you felt like it was a lot more secure after a certain group arrived. He helped with so much, most people in Alexandria didn’t even notice that a drought was slowly building up, and Rick and his group fixed it. In other words, you were grateful for them entering your home. Especially, a certain someone, Rick’s son, Carl. You were always so reserved that it never crossed your mind that actually speaking to him could help further more in your interest on him. You admired him, you couldn’t lie to yourself, and in your hopes and dreams you wished on every star that he reciprocated your feelings. You had lived most of your life inside these walls, you couldn’t fall in love like the comics you read thousand and thousand of times. Enid, Mikey and Ron were some of the friends you grew up with, you couldn’t bring yourself to like them like that. It didn’t help your case that every time you and Carl had to be in a room together, you would always look away from how your head filled with ‘naughty thoughts’. By naughty, you meant holding hands, complementing and chatting with Carl while you strolled through the neighborhood. Was love supposed to feel this way? You felt as if something was missing. Nonetheless, you didn’t know, and as far you knew, Carl would probably have more knowledge on this topic than you. You completely forgot that you were at a sleepover at Enid’s house, she was old enough to own one according to Rick and others. You always wore simple clothing that showed your body figure, you were proud of it. It was nothing new for other people, you always had tight clothing that could show any of your body’s layout. While you were zoning out with your daydreaming, Enid speaks up to everyone in the room.

“Okay okay. Carl,” she announces as she turned everyone’s attention to the freckled man. “you lost the best, so I decided on what you can do to entertain us. You have to take Y/N to your secret hideout outside the walls.”

You don’t even remember what they were talking about neither did you really pay attention to what Enid had just spouted, but your name was mentioned and that snapped you back into reality, you look around to see the big 3 laughing at Carl as his face turned red.

He hesitates speaking first but eventually comes to it. “Like, alone?”

“Alone alone.~” Enid laughs her ass off right after this, while Mikey whistled in the background, which only reinforced everyone’s laughter. “Don’t forget to tell us details, eh?” She leaves that statement with a grin on her face, they were just teasing him like always.

That must have left Carl mad because the moment he turned to face you and smiled at him, he bolted out of the room immediately, looking red. You didn’t even realize that you followed him outside, until he had turned out to face you walking behind him.

He starts walking away quicker. “Carl, wait!” You raise your voice and he immediately stops his tracks to turn around to look at your face. “What was Enid talking about alone? I know it sounds like a stupid question, I might have gotten lost in thought again.” You half-smiled and chuckle out of embarrassment because this was one of the few few times you had interacted. It was always Carl who initiated all of your small chats, you always gave a half-assed excuse to hide your stuttering voice every time he did so.

“Y/N. I—“ He stops talking to take something to process and mumble to himself, you didn’t know why so you just lifted one of your eyebrows, confused as to what could be troubling his thoughts. In your eyes, Carl always was someone so composed when speaking. “Hey, did little-miss-perfect ever try to sneak out of the walls?” His demeanor changed completely, it just left you shocked, but you still shake your head no. “If you try sneaking out with me, I’ll tell you what Enid was talking about when you were zoned out. I noticed you must have missed that part.” Carl flashes a smile at you, just that made your heart melt, so you smile back.

“Well, as long as you never tell anyone that I actually sneaked out!” Carl eyes your outfit up and down, you didn’t know if it was your imagination but you started feeling weird inside, in a good way.

When Carl was helped you climb over the walls, you could interpret a few strange things might have happened when it was your turn to go down. As you carefully slid down the outer of Alexandria, you managed to somehow trip yourself. Luckily, it was a small fall, you basically landed on your feet, but Carl immediately went kneeling to you and put his hands slowly up and your pants. He slowly rubbed the inner sides of your thighs, your behind and down to your ankles. You may have not probably reacted much to this on the outside, but you were freaking out on the inside, the way he massaged your legs and so so near your core. What was happening to your mind right now?! He could be simply checking for injuries! You were wearing thigh leggings so that must have been it. You look at how he smiles at this act, you try to pretend to hear it, maybe he was lost in something.

You continue to follow him to this small shed, it looks horrible on the outside, and you immediately refused to enter.

“Yeah, Carl, I’m not entering that.” You stop your track.

“C’mon, Y/N. You do realize this is our first time hanging out alone? Let’s make the most of it!” You couldn’t tell if he winked or blinked at you, having a crush on a guy with one eye was harder to take hints from.

You continue walking towards his direction. “Is that what Enid was talking about when she said ‘alone alone’?” Carl stops for a moment and then enters the shaggy shed. “I guess it’s a yes.”

The moment you enter, the shed was actually in good shape, especially with how the outside looks in comparison. Carl tells you he cleaned it up himself and invited you to sit by him, on a bed. You do so as you continue chatting on random comics you have read from Enid’s collection until you run out of topics. For a second, he made you forget about the apocalypse and everything bad about this world, he was the shining light this place needed.

“Ah, Carl, you have no idea how happy I am to be here with you.” You lay your back on the bed, as he turned your gaze upon you. “We need to come here more often.” For awhile, Carl didn’t respond. He just looking at you with a soft look on his face, every part of you, you felt like he could see through your skin with that glare. But suddenly, he got up.

“Sorry, I- I need to use the rest room.” Before you could even answer, he hurriedly goes to the bathroom connected to the bedroom you were in. You wait. And wait. And wait once more. You had enough and get up to knock on the door.

“Carl, is everything okay?” You hear the muffled sounds inside the bathroom stop.

“Yeah, just having to take care of something.” His voice sounded.. frustrated? Like he’s holding something.

“You can tell me, if you want I can help with it!” You happily say, as you witness the bathroom door open and he peaks out.

“Are you sure you can keep that?” He looks like those kids refusing to leave their room.

“A hundred percent!” You giggle and extended your arm to him.

That must have triggered something in him because as soon as you extended your hand out, he grabbed it and pushed you onto the bed. You felt like you were burning up, as he put his long hair on a small low ponytail and got on top of you, smiling from ear to ear.

“Y/N, you can’t be this innocent. There’s no way possible way.”

“I.. don’t get it.” He looked like a walker with the way he was about ready to devour you whole.

“Did you ever get taught about what sex, masturbation, erections?” He raises an eyebrow, waiting for your answer.

“The what now?” You’re confused, to say the least. You heard those words before but you never really taught what they were.

“Fuck’s sake, I want to ruin you by the minute.” His breath is becoming more and more loud, and your heart keeping up with the same pace. “If you want, I can teach you what they are.” You nod almost instantly, if it meant it could get you closer with him. Carl moved his position to siting by the side of the bed again, leaving his hat on the bed side table. “Sit on my thigh. Each leg open on one side of my leg.” He sounds demanding, but also desperate.

You do exactly as what he says, you didn’t know how this would help until he grabs your hips to guide your waist to move along your clit along his leg. Your body doesn’t know how to react. The friction of your legging clothed pussy and his jeans, you never felt such pleasure before, your legs trembled a lil’ as Carl kept guiding you with his hands. Your arms wrap around his neck as you breathe on his neck. He continues to speed up, little by little, as he starts kissing your cheek and eventually, you. It was your first time kissing, you didn’t expect to be in such a place and form. After you break out of the kiss, his teeth beam and he hears you moan out his name and your begging to continue.

“Carl, pleasee- hghn- more! More!” In another moment, you would never utter these words but your brain barely functioned at the hands of Carl Grimes.

“More what, baby?” He whispers on your ear, he obviously wants to tease around you.

“Faster, make the mov..ement fast.” At this point you’re the one moving your own hips, he basically put his hands there as a decoration.

“Beg for it, move them yourself and moan my name. I’ll make sure you’ll be compensated, let me spoil you tonight.” Those words were gonna drive you crazy. You pick up your own pace and speed up the process. He kept making small praises in your ear on how good you were doing, god damn it, Grimes. You definitely didn’t predict he was interested in you.

You finally finish on his leg, catching your breath as Carl fills your face with kisses. “Who’s a good girl, huh? Who’s Carl’s obedient princess?” You couldn’t even properly answer. You gave a weak ‘me’ as you rest you head on his shoulder.

“Why are you resting?” He lifts up your face with his hand. “We’re getting started, didn’t I say I would rewards you?” You thought you were tired but hearing him made you gain energy once more. “What we just did is called thigh riding, I see you enjoyed it.” He places another kiss on your lips, and you return it.

His hands slowly make their way to your shirt and he begins to lift it off your body, Carl also takes notes to take off your bra before lying you down. “Oh, what do we have here?” You rise your head a little to see what he is about to do but your head yanks itself back as Carl’s finger started playing with your nipples. He pinches, slight pulling and sucking around your chest to hear you moan so loud in his ear.

If this is how you acted before he was inside you, he didn’t know how he would control himself when that moment comes.

He goes on your body, eventually reaching your pants. Carl goes back up to face you, eye to eye. “Ya’ sure you want me to go through everything?”

“Carl, hurry the fuck up.” You furrowed your eyebrows, you were happy he contained himself to even ask, especially after everything, but upset that he doesn’t go straight to whatever he wanted to do.

“Well, I tried to restrain myself.” He immediately takes off your soaked pants and panties, putting them somewhere aside the end of the bed. “Look at this!” Carl positions his fingers around your wet pussy. “Don’t you feel like a lil’ whore?” He moves this finger around, doing circles. You felt so sensitive, trembling from the mere touch of his skin near your private area and him degrading you. “What a pretty slut. Do you wish for more?” You already knew the answer. So did he. Carl felt good knowing that he finally could touch you like this and be able to tease you around for your first time. “I can’t wait to show you off when we get back.”

But he suddenly stopped. Pulling his hand away. You, as well, raise up to stand on your knees on the bed, only to notice that he is using his hands to help take off his shirt and pants. It was the first time you noticed his bulge and also your first at seeing a dick. It was directly pointing you, slightly curved upwards, its colors just matched him, a faint red blush color on his tip. You were admiring it so much, Carl had to snap his finger to get your attention again.

“What were you thinking about?” He asks, trying to sound pissed off but he couldn’t smirk at this situation.

“Uh.. Uhm… Your male sexual organ?” You let out an awkward smile.

He laughs. “Call it whatever, but I’m impatient for head.”

“Head?” You question him.

“A blowjob?”

“…”

“You really are asking to be fucked silly. Basically, lick and suck my cock, Y/N.” He smiles at your innocence yet to be crumbled by his hands. You, on the other hand, had to understand how you could give him the same satisfaction that he had given you previously.

You slowly start licking and putting him in your mouth. He silently groans and moans the more you take in, which you make a mental note of. But after it’s all in, you don’t know if you should move. “Sorry, beautiful.” Carl decided for you, as he grips your hair on his hand and bops your head back and forth. You were shocked at how fast he was going, so you work your way to keep up with him. The faster you go, the more lewd his voice sounded to you, it felt good hearing you complement you. “Fuck, baby, you look so pretty with your lips around my dick.” He huffs between your motions. When he finally reached his climax, he came inside your mouth. You didn’t know what to do. Were you supposed to swallow it? Spi-

“Swallow.” And you did so on command. Two hours ago, when you left home for that sleepover, you would have never suspected that THIS would be the outcome of your night.

“Is it over?” You ask him, you were sure you weren’t going to sleep that night.

“It should have but it seems, I can go up for more.” He grins at you as he pointed to his crotch, it was still up. Fuck’s sake, can you ever catch a breath around this lovable pervert?

“I’ll take it care of it.” He smiles. “IF!” His smile drops. “If you promise this is the last for tonight.” You made it sound like you were prepared to repeat this more times with him, which only excited him more.

“Of course, I’m going to respect your wishes.” Carl softly kisses your cheek, before he gets up to get a condom. You were innocent, but you at least remember what your parents called those. ‘Baby preventers’.

After he rolls the condom on top of his dick, he starts making out out until your head is placed on pillows and your body is placed right in-front of his eye. This was a view he wanted to enjoy looking at it for a long time. And hey, you were pretty prideful on your body, but the way Carl had you exposed, you try to hide it the best you can. That only pissed him off because he uses his left hand to lock both your arms in a trance by your wrist above your head. Whilst the other hand explored your naked body.

“You got such a pretty body, it’s perfect for me. This is ten times better than my imagination.” His eye softens as his hand reaches your waist. “May I enter?”

You knew this will mean he will put himself in you, but you were so nervous if he thought of you as gross. This feelings disappears as soon as he slowly places his tip and enters you. You gasp, as then slowly sigh. He stays still, both of you not used to this feeling.

“Can I move, Y/N?” You nod and he starts speeding up his activity. You both moan in synch, then he bites his lip, trying to shush himself to hear you cry out for him. “Jesus Christ, you’re squeezing me alive..” Quicker and quicker, he’s driving your mind somewhere else, not even he has enough breath to tease you, but for you it was sufficient that he just kept giving you that sweet look. He hurried his thrusts into you, making your back arch. You were glad Carl was your first time, who else could be so rough but so caring?

“Y-Y/N, I’m so close, can you handle it just a bit more?” He began stuttering, he was so close to his limit.

“Just keep going, sweetie.” You used your right hand to lift your body a little to kiss his cheek. Carl takes that opportunity to thrust one last time to finish. He re-organizes the bed for you and cuddles with you as he whispers sweet words into your ears, dozing off to your deep slumber.

It’s been a couple of weeks ever since that night at the shed. No one in Alexandria knew , for the exception of the perpetrators themselves, you and Carl. Your relationship and feelings did grow, but you wanted to make sure if he was serious about you, which Carl constantly showed through his actions. He happened to be at your house as you were cooking breakfast.

“Heyyy, Y/N.~” He hugs you from behind, probably plotting something.

“Good morning, Carl. I’m baking pancakes you want some?” You can’t really turn around to kiss him, you were too busy to trying not to mess up these pancakes.

“Oh, y’know… Just wanted to greet you.” He starts brushing his erect crotch against your back.

“Grimes! What if someone walks in?” You weren’t really worried as you were behind a counter but, you were concentrating on not fucking up your breakfast.

“And who will stop me?” He slowly positions your back and starts picking up speed with his crotch, making you put ur hand on your mouth to muffle the lewd noises he liked to hear. “Who could possibly come i-“

“CARL!” Tara just opens my door and walked into the kitchen. “I knew you’d be here. Your dad is looking everywhere for you, get back home, we got a new scavenge layout plan for tomorrow.”

We both look at each other, giving a small smile for how we were relieved Tara didn’t catch us.

“Also, leave Y/N alone, weirdo. Other people might see through your open window.”

“Shit.”

#carl grimes twd #twd fanfiction #carl grimes #twd #twd smut #smut #carl grimes smut #carl grimes x you #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #the walking dead carl #request

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directdogman · 3 months

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Just wanna say that I'm a HUGE fan of Dialtown and DSaF. I absolutely LOVE the storytelling and the balance you have with the plot! The absurdity mixed with logic and realism that paints something that could very well happen is absolutely stunning! I truly admire you and your teams' (assuming it isn't just you but I'm not sure) skills.

I do have a question though! At some point I saw an ask that you answered regarding writing dialogue and the differentiation of writing characteristics in different characters! I have to ask, what does the process look like for dialogue writing? How the hell do you stay in the mindset of the character? It's something that I struggle with way too much in my own writing (with way too many Google searches on synonyms for different words) so I'm wondering what your process is. Especially when it comes to a character lole Oliver, who has a theatrical way of speaking. It feels like there's too little words in the English language but you have this guy that's using all of them in one sentence!

Anyways, hope you're having an awesome day. If not, I hope things improve! I hope this wasn't too lengthy of an ask, haha.

Hey, don't think I'm necessarily a master at this! Hell, you should see how much I have to google word synonyms! Seriously, every time I sit down to write, I do the very same! Even if you become familiar with every word in the English language, you can never really store them all in your head at once! There's people out there who kinda can, but that's the thing, you don't HAVE to be insanely skilled in that way to write compelling character dialogue because I sure as hell am not!

DW, you're on the right track! It gets easier, the more you do it, but there's no real secret to writing really good dialogue (at least, that I know of) other than just writing a lot and when possible, studying writing that you really like and trying to deconstruct what others do (and it sounds like you're already on the right track, in the regard!)

One thing that helps me is being able to think like the character. Understanding how they think, how they feel about the world, what makes them tick, etc. It's easy for me since I write characters that I tend to share some common experiences with (or characters that share traits with people I know intimately), but even I don't delve as deeply into character-psychology while I write as I could. But. I feel I know enough about my characters to understand their 'vibe' pretty well! TBH, sometimes I have to go and replay existing DT scenes just to ensure it all 'sounds' correct. If you get good at this, you can pretty much hear your characters speaking in your head! That makes what you're asking about a hell of a lot easier.

I'm really more of a student than a teacher in the grand scheme of things (I have a lot to learn, myself!) and honestly, just having an interest in writing and wanting to deconstruct the stuff that inspires you is a big plus in becoming a really good writer! As cliché as it sounds, I really am just one dude standing on the shoulders of giants. Never forget that writers who inspire you are in the exact same spot you are. Hope this helps!

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jealousmartini · 2 months

Text

REALLY IMPORTANT AND USEFUL STUFF TO SCRIPT IF YOURE A KPOP SHIFTER

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

○ You understand, you can speak and write Korean fluently

Just an obvious one

○ You understand Korean meme culture, and you actually find it funny😭🙏🏾. Like well-known jokes and memes that are popular from movies or songs or stuff like that.

This is so important for foreigners like me since I don't know jack-SHIT about the memes and jokes over there

○ You don't forget to use the correct honorifics for your family members and group members vs your manager and people you aren't close with. Take these just in case

BANMAL = Informal language

Hyeong; Hyung = Literal meaning: “older brother” Is also used to call: A male friend or a male sibling who’s older than you (as a male). Used by: A younger male to call an older male friend or sibling

Noona; Nuna = Literal meaning: “older sister” is also used to call a female friend or a female sibling who’s older than you (as a male). Used by: A younger male to call an older female or sibling

Oppa = Literal meaning: “older brother” is also used to call a male friend or a male sibling who’s older than you (as a female). Is used by a younger female to call an older male friend or sibling

Unnie; Unni = Literal meaning: “older sister” Is also used to call a female friend or a female sibling who’s older than you (as a female). Used by a younger female to call an older female or sibling

Namdongsaeng = Literal meaning: “younger brother”. Is used to call a younger male sibling or any male who’s younger than you (as a female/male). Used by an older male/female or an older sibling to call a male who’s younger

Side note: You don’t use this word when you call them. Call them by name.

Yeodongsaeng = Literal meaning: “younger sister” Is used to call a younger female sibling or any female who’s younger than you (as a female/male). Used by an older male/female or an older sibling to a female who’s younger than them

Side note: You don’t use this word when you call them. Call them by name.

JONDAENMAL = Formal language

Ssi = Literal meaning: “Mr./Miss/Mrs.” Is used to call someone who you need to show some respect to. Used for business environment

Nim = Literal meaning: “Mr./Miss/Mrs.” (It’s more polite and respectful than Ssi)

○ You are highly respected, loved and admired amongst Koreans and other Kpop idols

I think that although it is great to have international fans, you should also have a strong Korean fanbase since that is where the genre was born

It also helps to be talked about positively from both popular and underrated K-pop groups. Whether about your looks, your personality, your skills or whatever. This shows you are actually very interesting and more than the general public see your potential.

○ You perfectly match the Korean beauty standard, You are the Korean beauty standard OR your beauty is so original and rare that Koreans love it even though it doesn't match their standard

I personally scripted the third one because even though I match some small parts of the beauty standard like long slim fingers, clear soft skin and perfect teeth, my overall appearance does NOT follow the standard. I am still a slim thick pear, I am still black and I still have textured curly hair.

○ You can match / have the same humour with other kpop idols you're close friends with. Also script you are intentionally and unintentionally funny

This connects with the Korean meme culture point I made. You have GOT to understand what your own friends are joking about and find it funny too as well as BE funny, cus god knows how many times a meme reference is gonna be made amongst your members while you are doing one of those challenges like RUN BTS and you don't get what they are talking about😭

note to self💌 : gonna make smore later — 🍊💭

@theshifterbear @livingmydreamlife5555 @cocozydiaries @4ellieluv

#shifting realities #reality shift #shifters #shiftblr #desired reality #law of assumption #loablr #loa blog #master manifestor #4d reality #loa #drself #shifting #desired appearance #desired self #desired life #self concept

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juyeonszn · 4 months

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PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER (PT. 2)

PAIRING kevin moon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.60k

GENRES angst ﹒little bit of fluff ﹒little bit of smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, reader is better than me cause i would not let kevin do all the shit he’s done 😭, ANYWAY i digress, this part is very reader-centric — whereas part one is very kevin-centric, inner turmoil goes absolutely crazy, most of this fic is reader putting kevin in his place and him realizing how big of an asshole he truly is, mentions of injury (past tense), mentions of insecurity, lots of arguing, reader cries at one point or another, the smut places a very minimal role in this, but unprotected sex, public sex (the auditorium dressing room), no foreplay but wtv we fall like soldiers in battle, pussy job lowkey (high key…), creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY it wasn’t like you and kevin hated each other. in fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

MORE oh my god. it’s finally fucking here. A MONTH, 2 SICKNESSES AND MANY MANY STRESSFUL NIGHTS LATER— part two of princess and the pauper is here!!! i’m so sorry to those of u who have been itching and waiting on me to get ‘er done,,, it’s been an ordeal to say the least, and while it’s nearing the two month mark since the black out or back out collab was announced, SHE FINALLY FINISHED!!! for once i saw something through omg i can sleep peacefully and work on my other wips without guilt now… 😭 ALSO THANK U SO MUCH MAYA @/kimsohn FOR PUSHING ME THROUGH THIS and for making me thug it out bc without u it definitely would’ve taken much longer to finish 💔 please dont forget to read part one and the other fics in the series if u haven’t!! both are linked below! and as always, pls reblog if u enjoyed <3

PART ONE | SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn

TAGLIST @millksea @deobibbang @deobi0412

Never in your life have you felt so… Confused.

It wasn’t just confusion that settled deep in the pit of your stomach. There was a sharp pain there too, like someone stabbed you and twisted the knife. That was probably the best way to describe what you were feeling. You were bleeding out, and no one was coming to save you.

Kevin wasn’t answering your calls. He wasn’t answering your texts. He ran out of the lecture hall as soon as class was over, never giving you a moment to speak to him. It was making you nervous.

You still had half of a dance to choreograph and a fuck ton of pressure riding on your back. After the last performance you and him did together, you’d have a lot of eyes on you. It most definitely wasn’t your fault that he dropped you. How many people willingly want to acquire a broken ankle? The crutches were a bitch to maneuver around with. But like every single thing that’s happened in the three years you’ve known Kevin Moon, he’s managed to place the blame on you like it was.

It was crucial that you make amends with him even if it was momentarily. Your final grades were dependent on your performance. If he couldn’t get his shit together for at least that, he was a lost cause in your mind. Not even your professor would be able to refute that fact. Actually, nobody would be able to refute that fact.

Your lips form an O as you blow the steam away from your coffee, pulling out your phone to try Kevin’s phone once again. The line rings a few times before going straight to voicemail like it has the past couple weeks. You kiss your teeth, tying your sweater around your waist as you slump in your chair. The baristas at the campus cafe were probably sick of seeing you sitting in the same high-top counter spot since the incident with Kevin in the studio.

“Y/N?”

Ji Changmin appears beside you and you click your phone off, so he wouldn’t see his friend’s contact on the screen. You give the Early Childhood Dev major a weak smile.

“Changmin! What’s up? How are you and your girlfriend?” You hope he can’t recognize the distress written all over your features. You highly doubt it, though. You can feel the wrinkles pulling at your skin.

“We’re good! How’s the showcase performance going with Kev?” He asks like he knows something you don’t. When your lips fall to a thin line, an all too familiar grimace, he sighs a knowing sigh. “Do I have to smack some sense into him?”

“Not gonna lie, yeah, you do. He’s being really fucking difficult and like half of our dance is unfinished. I can’t even get a hold of him, so I’m starting to lose my patience.” You express your annoyance. The border between complacency and free-will was a lot slimmer than one might think. For example; your feelings when it comes to Kevin Moon.

You don’t expect to get a returning call later that night when you’re washing dishes after dinner.

In fact, you don’t even hear it at first, too absorbed in scrubbing the staining out of your bowl. It’s when your roommate yells out to you, that you snap out of your reverie, albeit dazedly. You dry your hands on a nearby tea towel, hitting the green answer button without a second glance at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Your heart catches in your throat. You recognize the owner of the voice practically by the first breath into the receiver alone. It’s actually kind of unhealthy how quickly it took to realize who was on the other end. You swallow heavily, praying he doesn’t hear the gulp.

“In the latter part of the afternoon, I believe. Why?” You try not to sound hopeful. That’s one thing you’ve learned being in the same vicinity as Kevin Moon. You could never be too expecting, because it would only lead to disappointment. And you’d dealt with enough of that the past few years.

“We need to finish this fuck ass choreography,” he grunts, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue. “I’ll meet you in the same studio at 4.”

He doesn’t let you get anything else in, hanging up swiftly. You deflate as you set your phone back on the counter. All you had to do was push through these next couple weeks, like you always have when it came to him.

That should be a piece of cake, right?

Wrong.

“No, that looks stupid.”

You grit your teeth, swiping the back of your hand on your forehead. You’d been inside of this studio maybe 30 minutes tops, and you were on the verge of strangling Kevin. With as long as you’d been putting up with his shit, you thought getting through this wouldn’t be as rough as it’s been. But if there was one thing Kevin Moon had, it was pride.

“We don’t have time for you to nitpick right now. Let’s just finish the choreography and clean it after.” Your hands rest on your hips, nostrils flaring.

“If we clean as we go, we’ll have more time to drill it into our systems and get down muscle memory. It’ll be a stronger performance.” He argues. You roll your eyes as you turn away from him, taking a water break to calm yourself. “Why do you have so much fucking attitude today? You were the one preaching to the choir about me making things difficult. It seems the tables have turned.”

Usually, you were pretty good at keeping your frustration at bay when it came to Kevin’s remarks. You liked to think it was because you were down bad for the guy, despite him always wanting nothing to do with you. But as of late, (Read: Since your performance of Princess and the Pauper) every little comment he’s made has managed to crawl under your skin like a damn parasite. You were beginning to get real sick of it.

“God, you’re so—“ You interrupt yourself to groan, fingers curling into fists. “You’re fucking insufferable. Do you know that? I’ve been bending over backwards to ensure we aren’t kicked out of the goddamn program and you don’t even fucking care. Over what? A kiss that you initiated?”

Kevin is stunned into silence, not at all prepared for you to blow up on him like that. After all, that razor thin line between complacency and free-will had yet to be crossed. And well, it appears that you just crossed it. You whip around toward him, pulling down the collar of your t-shirt to reveal the faintest of bruises that still remains from your impromptu act of intimacy.

“I’ve had to look at this every day for a week and all it’s done is make me feel shitty, ashamed of something I didn’t even start. Now I need you to stop acting like an ass and get it together so we can finish this and perform the best dance this university has ever seen.” Your chest is heaving up and down, similarly to when you made out against the mirrors last week. Except this time isn’t out of breathlessness, but rather anger and exhaustion.

Kevin’s eyes don’t leave the hickey on the base of your throat, something undetectable swimming in them as he stares. You can’t read the emotions swirling rampantly in his irises, a mixture of too many blurring into one another. Honestly, it’s funny. It’s funny that it’s taken you this long to get him to shut his mouth for once.

So you laugh.

It’s a snort at first, an off handed projection of how comical the situation has become to you. But then it metamorphoses into a small giggle, which leads to full scale laughter that has you hunching over your knees and wiping away tears. This whole thing is stupid. Absolutely fucking stupid.

“What are you laughing at?” His eyebrow raises in question, broken from his weird trance.

“I just can’t believe it took three years for me to shut you up,” you shake your head slowly, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm. “You’re always the one who can’t stop talking.”

Kevin deadpans, mouth pulled pin-straight as his expression drops. “You’re so unserious.”

As the height of your laughter reaches a valley, you collapse onto the ground, resting your back against the mirror. You take another long sip of water before sighing. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. Trust me, I know. But, we’ve gotta set aside our differences just this once. Please, for the sake of the department.”

“Fine,” he murmurs, plopping down beside you to stretch his back. “Let’s finish choreographing so we can start cleaning it up.”

It’s a victory in your book, and probably the most obedient the Pisces has ever been. Maybe this wouldn’t end in complete disaster like you assumed it would. It turns out Kevin Moon wasn’t entirely brainless and knew when he was wrong. Sometimes. Maybe. We’ll see.

You shut your eyes and visualize what you’ve choreographed so far, going over the moves in your head to see if the rest will come to you like a prophecy. It’s wishful thinking, but with how much you’ve accomplished since setting foot in the studio, you’re willing to try anything. The track would be nice for elements of hip hop style choreography, but you knew the audience wouldn’t eat it up as much as they would the route you’re currently taking.

Driver roll up the partition, please…

The song plays through the speakers and you watch as Kevin stands to run through everything you have. You’re entranced by his movements, the flow of his body on certain points. It’ll look ten times better once you’re doing it with him, costumed and performing it perfectly in front of a crowd. You can picture it now, the gentle but controlled glide of his hands along your arms when Beyoncé sings “We ain’t even gonna make it to this club”. He was right. You very well might be seduced by your enemy.

“Should we use props?” You suddenly voice, eyes narrowed in thought. He hums.

“That’s… not a half-bad idea, actually,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “What did you have in mind?”

“A chair, maybe,” you look away from him, placing your focus on the way your toes alternate between a tendu and relaxed position. “That could take up a good chunk of the choreo.”

Kevin stalks over to the supply closet in the corner of the studio, pulling out a folding chair. He puts it in the center of the room gently, careful to not scratch up the wooden, lacquered flooring. You spend the next couple of hours brainstorming through numerous versions of the dance. While it was a lot easier than your past practices, there were still the occasional argument over which movements looked good and whatnot.

At a certain point, everything becomes cohesive and the end is near. You gulp down some water as Kevin does some random choreography. It’s then that it comes to you, like a vision from That’s So Raven. You practically drop your water bottle, scrambling to your feet and stopping him. Your breath is heavy from fatigue and you’re slightly afraid of even suggesting this, but it’s exactly what this dance needs. It’s exactly what everyone wants to see from the two of you.

He pauses the music and gestures for you to get on with it. You push down the lump in your throat, scared of rejection. But maybe he was smart and he would agree that this is what you have to do. “What if we did a lift?”

You see the hesitation swirling in his eyes and you raise a finger before he can shut you down entirely. “Nothing crazy like… um— you know— Princess and the Pauper, but something smaller. Something… sexy? Like, Dancing with the Stars type beat.”

When he shrugs instead of outright dismissing your idea, you know you’ve won. He nods slowly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Okay, sure. But we better clean up everything else fast so we can perfect the lift.”

The two of you take another three hours running the entirety of the choreography, ingraining the moves into your brains and muscles. You still had a bit until the actual showcase, but your priority now lies with the lift. If you nailed it, the entire department would very well grovel after you in reparation for all of the slack you got after Kevin dropped you. Hell, the entire university would kiss your feet. This was your redemption. In more ways than one.

You both decide to call it a day at around 9:30 PM. Your hands reach for your belongings and then you halt yourself, a thought coming to mind. While you had him in this weird state of obedience, you figured it was as good a time as any to ask the question that’s been weighing on you for the past few years. Your fingers swipe away the sweat beading around your hairline.

”Kevin,” you start, voice a lot softer than before. “Why do you— what did I do to make you dislike me so much?”

He’s caught completely off guard, eyes widening in surprise. If he was anticipating you to say anything else prior to parting ways tonight, he didn’t think this would be it. He’s actually a little off put that you hadn’t asked him this already in the span of your definitely-one-sided rivalry. He takes a large gulp of water.

”I’d call it indifference, not dislike,” he corrects after a pregnant silence. “It’s really fucking stupid thinking about it in hindsight. I don’t know if you remember this time, way back in our first year, we ran into each other at the campus cafe— literally, might I add— and you spilled your coffee all over this white shirt of mine that Changmin had gotten for me as a birthday gift. I only recently found out that it wasn’t as expensive as he made it out to be.”

You blink at his admission, processing his words as thoroughly as possible. You don’t know what you wanted him to say. You weren’t even sure if there was a concrete reason for him to be so fucking mean to you all this time. And now that you know, you come to the conclusion that Kevin Moon isn’t as smart as you’ve painted him out to be in your head. He’s actually a gigantic idiot. Because who in their right mind goes through these lengths to form a distance between the only other person on par with their talent?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re bursting into another fit of laughter. Kevin falters at your reaction. He was waiting for you to blow up on him, to scream in his face for causing you so much pain and unnecessary drama over something so silly. So when you do none of that, when you start fucking laughing like a damn hyena, he feels dumb. Like his entire college career has been built off of nothing.

”This is so—“ you pause to gather your bearings, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. “We’ve spent so much time going back and forth over some spilled coffee? Surely you’ve realized how insane that is at some point.”

”It took a lengthy argument with Changmin, but yeah, I did,” he nods, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, finally getting your things together. The two of you bid each other an awkward goodbye. Neither of you knew what to make of your relationship now that things had been partially sorted through. There was a fuck ton of baggage that still had to be sifted, but at least you had an answer.

That was enough to push through this showcase performance. You think.

You’re nervous.

Never in your entire life have you ever been this nervous for a performance.

You grew up doing musical theatre and dancing, it’s always been the one constant presence you could rely on. But standing here, backstage at the showcase, you think you’re going to throw up. Your palms are clamming up uncontrollably and your chest feels unbearably heavy as you watch the quartet doing a contemporary piece to some ballad you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. There were still a couple groups before you.

Not even when you had to perform fuckass Princess and the Pauper were you this anxious. You wince, trying to stop the incessant bouncing of your leg. Your weight keeps shifting from one hip to the other. As a seasoned veteran, you don’t know why you feel this way. Maybe it had to do with all the pressure riding on this very dance. Every single eye in that crowd was going to scrutinize your every move on that stage.

“Calm down,” a voice whispers harshly from beside you. “You’re making me nervous.”

Kevin wraps his fingers around your wrist, stopping the annoying tap-tap-tap your own were doing against your thigh. He gives you a look, and you sigh. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

That’s a lie. Not only was the high expectations from the entire school getting to you, but so was the fear of history repeating itself. He knows this, it was inevitable. After what happened the last time he was tasked with lifting you, it was only natural.

”We’ve drilled this dance hundreds, if not thousands, of times, Y/N. We’ll do just fine.” Kevin assures you.

His hand feels foreign holding yours, like it was illegal for his skin to be touching your own. You feel your lower lip quiver, a sense of trepidation that you’ve never once felt creeping down your spine. Your mind was spiraling, and quite honestly, Kevin being so close was making it worse. All you could think about was him dropping you again, leaving you in the middle of the stage with a broken leg and a broken heart. You release a shaky breath and he turns to face you.

Your eyes widen and he searches your face for any disingenuity. When he finds his answer, he brings the hand that was holding yours up to cup your cheek. He’s cautious, afraid he might break you like he always does. He waits for you to shove him away and to yell at him for being a fucking coward.

You don’t. You stay still, hoping he follows through with what you think he’s about to do. And then he does.

It’s such a featherlight peck of his lips on your own, you almost don’t even register. But sparks shoot from the source all the way to the tips of your fingers. You feel as if you were dealt a static shock of electricity, your whole body buzzing from the small kiss alone.

He pulls away just in time for the stage manager to inform you that you’re next. Kevin rolls his neck jogging over to the wings to patiently await your performance like he hadn’t just kissed you a moment ago. You blink dumbly, two fingers coming up to touch where his lips had been. Sure the nerves were gone now, but the sensation of butterflies swarming about in your stomach easily replaced that. What the fuck was his problem?

“Our last performance is one I’m sure all of you have been waiting for. Kevin Moon and Y/N L/N with Partition!”

Before you know it, you and Kevin are in position, your body squared upstage and his to the crowd. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his arm wrapped around your waist and his steady breathing on your nose. The spotlight switches on, the heat of the lighting warm against the side of your face. It’s silent in the auditorium, but it rings in your ears. You could do this.

Let me hear you say ‘Hey Miss Carter’…

You move on reflex, muscle memory kicking in instantaneously. Each circle of your hips, every turn you make— a fouetté here, a pirouette there, a couple coupes, each roll of your body. But what really gets you is the long brushes of Kevin’s skin on your own. You’d practiced with distance between the two of you. There was a tension that had been there for years. Now it’s all coming to a rolling boil, a new uncharted tension that every single member in that audience could see.

And then comes the lift.

You, along with everybody in the auditorium, practically hold your breath when Kevin’s hands grip your hips. He raises you above him with all of his strength, completely focused on you and only you. You shut your eyes and feel the moment, like, really feel it. Your body is relaxed, the Dirty Dancing-esque lift bringing the whole performance together just like you knew it would. The only difference from the movie and real life is the fact that you’re flipped, your backside to Kevin and your chest to the ceiling.

Your eyes flutter open, the spotlight all but blinding you, and you finally feel content. Like everything has fallen into the right place for once in your life. Especially so when Kevin sets you down gently and you finish your dance with the utmost confidence.

The crowd erupts into a roaring chorus of applause, going as far as giving you a standing ovation. Holy shit. You pulled it off. You actually managed to pull it off.

Your face feels like it might split from how big your smile is. You and Kevin bow, walking off stage. You’re entirely too happy right now, a newfound energy overtaking you as you trail behind him.

“We did it!” You cheer as you follow him towards the dressing room where your things are. You’re the only ones left backstage, everyone else filtering out between performances. Kevin doesn’t give you much of a response, just a small nod of acknowledgment. Your smile falters. “What the hell is your problem?”

”Nothing, Y/N, fuck. Can you just mind your own fucking business?” He snaps, turning around to glare at you just as the door slams behind you. You instinctively flinch at both loud noises. His features soften but you take a step back from him.

You aren’t sure why you’re surprised. This isn’t anything new. Kevin has always made it crystal clear that he wasn’t your number one fan. Being neutral for your performance wasn’t enough to repair all the holes in whatever your relationship was, and you should’ve known better. You shouldn’t have let your guard down so easily. You should’ve expected this. Old dogs can never learn new tricks.

But Kevin’s scared. He’s afraid of letting you in after all the mess he’s put you through. The only thing he’s good at doing is hurting you, over and over like there was a prize that came out of it.

”Look…”

”No, you listen to me,” you swallow heavily, tears already tight lining your eyes. “Kevin, I have taken so much shit from you. Over these past few years I have just sat there and let you unload all your fucked up insecurities onto me. Have you ever wondered why? Have you ever thought to stop and think about why I let you be so mean to me without even questioning it?”

He says nothing, just stares with his lips parted. They open and close like a fish out of water, words there at the tip of his tongue but refusing to make their escape. And then one of your tears rolls down your cheeks and he’s directly in front you, his heart on his sleeve for the first time since you’ve met him.

”Why?” The simple question is so quiet, you almost don’t hear him. But his eyes hold so much hurt, so much anguish that you’ve never seen in a person before.

“I’ve had feelings for you for so long, it’s actually starting to ache. You’ve only ever seen me as this thing, this obstacle. And I’m afraid that that’s all I’ll ever be to you, because you won’t let me be anything else. You won’t—“

”That’s not true, Y/N,” Kevin sighs, looking off to the side, away from you. “I just— it’s complicated. It’s more than just being rivals.”

”So help me understand,” you frown. “Let me in, please.”

”My entire life I’ve had to work to get to where I am. I’ve fought tooth and nail to be as good of a performer as I am today. There were so many hoops I had to go through to even get into this program and— and I thought I’d finally become the best I could be. I thought that there was no way anyone could ever be better than me. And then you showed up. You and your pretty smile and your natural ability to be the best at everything you do. It was like you were the real life manifestation of all of my critics, of every challenge I faced to get here. Where I had to practice day and night to perfect something, it just came to you like second nature. During Princess and the Pauper, when I dropped you, it truly was an accident. But we’d spent so much time nailing it, that it— I just made myself feel better by saying it was your fault. ‘How could it have been my fault if I perfected it?’ I was jealous and petty and it was just easier to blame hating— to blame my indifference on you spilling coffee on my stupid shirt. For that, I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what you were waiting to hear, but it wasn’t that. Your tears turn into full on blubbering, because what the fuck? That’s so much burden for someone to carry on their shoulders for three years.

“Why are you— why are you crying?” He flounders, reaching up to swipe away your tears.

“I wish I knew… I wish I could’ve helped you somehow,” you sniffle. “Kev, I’ve always admired you and your work ethic. I hoped one day I’d be half as disciplined as you, half as determined.”

He blinks. You’re both dumb, aren’t you? Too focused on the wrong things. You both could’ve been a lot less hateful, a lot less miserable, had you just spoken your differences out. This entire rivalry has been completely one sided, but also built off of plain stupidity and ignorance. He supposes it’s not too late to make amends if you aren’t running in the opposite direction despite everything he’s put you through.

Kevin leans forward, hand still pressed to your cheek, and connects your lips softly. He’s testing the waters, making sure you’re comfortable before he continues anything. When you don’t back away just yet, he adds more force, deepening the kiss like a man starved. You whine against his lips.

This is what you’ve been wanting from him. More than what he gave you before your performance, but not what happened in the studio a few weeks ago. This desperation isn’t abashed lust, it’s unbridled affection— it’s everything he’s holed inside of himself for years, unwilling to let it see the light of day until now. If you were to label anything as perfection, it wouldn’t be a dance or a moment on stage, it would be this. Just you and Kevin finally bringing yourselves together in the most intimately emotional union.

He pulls you closer to him, hands sliding down to grasp at your waist, bunching up the thin fabric of your leotard. You can’t help but bury your fingers in his hair, tugging when he nips at your lower lip. A gasp permeates the air when his mouth travels south, along your jaw and down the side of your neck. He bites and sucks the tender skin at the base of your throat, ensuring he leaves his mark on you. This time isn’t careless, this time he has purpose. He wants everybody to know that you’re his, that you’re the only person insane enough to put up with him.

Your breathing is shaky when you reach behind you to lock the dressing room, dragging him over to the long vanity adjacent to you. He slots between your legs when you hoist yourself onto the surface. He pecks your lips and pauses his movements, rubbing up and down your thighs. In the dim, yellow lighting of the room, you look so gorgeous. He’s always thought you were beautiful, the most stunning thing he’s ever laid his eyes on, but he’s repressed it for so long. He wants to take his time staring at what he’s avoided.

”You’re so pretty,” he says quietly, kissing you again and again and again. “I don’t think I can last long with you.”

“Can we skip the foreplay?” You ask, bottom lip jutted into a pout. “Need you to just fuck me like you mean it.”

Kevin’s forehead falls to your shoulder with a groan. “I don’t deserve you,” God, he’s such an idiot for holding out from this. You should’ve been given the world and so much more. He has a lot of lost time to make up for. He kisses your shoulder with a sigh. “Yeah, baby, I can do that.”

You don’t waste another second, slipping your arms through the sleeves of your leotard. He has to bite down on his tongue when he sees that you’re braless, fingers going slack as they unbutton the rest of his silk shirt. You shimmy out of the one piece, left in nothing but the fishnet stockings you wore underneath and your lacy panties. Kevin thinks he must’ve done at least something right in a past life to experience this.

Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him, undoing his slacks and kicking them down his legs with your feet. Something takes over him when he rips a bigger hole in your stockings, pushing your underwear to the side. His thumb glides through your folds with ease, your slick providing enough lubricant. He pushes your lower lips apart while you busy yourself shoving his underwear to his ankles.

His cock slips inside of you with less friction than he would’ve thought, but he doesn’t complain, screwing his eyes shut as he acclimates to the feeling of your walls surrounding him. You moan, such a soft sound that he nearly loses his balance.

“You feel so good, baby,” he coos, digging his fingers into your hips as he rocks his own. “You’re so so perfect.”

The praise is too much for you, given the circumstances. Your brain is already cloudy, stuffed with what could only be described as cotton. You watch with half lidded eyes as he begins to piston into you at a faster speed. This all feels like a fever dream, something that was only possible in your craziest fantasies. Even then, it seemed unlikely.

“‘M close, Kev,” you whine, unable to stay still and attempting to match his thrusts.

“Already? We’ve only just started, gorgeous.” He laughs, but it’s breathy, strained from the exertion of his body. You hardly have the strength in you to be embarrassed about it, especially since he’s seen you in much worse situations.

You nod frantically, snaking a hand between you to circle your clit with nimble fingers. Kevin halts you and pulls out momentarily, sliding his cock between your folds like it was your hand. The tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you dizzier than you already were.

He presses back into you with ease, resuming his sloppy but animalistic pace. He uses his thumb to continue your handywork, your cunt fluttering around him needily. You’re both losing your sanity quickly, both going batshit insane over the bare minimum. You’ve just needed this for so long, yearned for this moment for a humiliating amount of time.

Your moans start to rise in pitch and he groans. “Fuck, baby, you can cum for me.”

He could cry, he thinks, when your back arches and your legs shake with your orgasm. It hits you like a freight train, triggering his own release just as fast.

You stay like that for a bit, regaining yourselves and comprehending everything that’s just happened. So much for the whole hating each other narrative.

“What does this mean for us?” You suddenly ask, arms hooked around Kevin’s neck. You’re still connected by your lower halves, but he makes no effort to pull away. Part of you likes it that way, it gives you hope that this isn’t a one time affair.

“It’ll be hard for things to change overnight,” he says, massaging your sides. “We have a lot of unresolved issues and insecurities that we still have to push past. But I’m willing to do that with you. I want to take a chance on us.”

Your lips pull into a smile, an expression you don’t think you’ve worn around him genuinely in the years you’ve known him. “I do, too.”

“It’s kind of ironic that it was a performance that tore us apart and brought us back together, don’t you think?” He laughs.

“And we fucked in the dressing room…” You add, glancing to the top corner where a security camera is stationed.

“Maybe we should get out of here before someone checks the footage,” he suggests. “Tau Beta Zeta is conveniently hosting our end of semester party tonight, do you wanna be my plus one?”

“I would be honored.” You grin, pecking his lips tenderly.

Perhaps happy endings existed after all.

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kimbap-r0ll · 10 months

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Can I request some head-cannons for the Bucci Gang (jjba) with a female reader who’s like Kanao from Kny? Where she can’t make choices for herself and represses her emotions as a old defense mechanism due to past trauma/abuse she endured?

Sorry that this sounds weird 😭

Ah, my first jjba ask (I was rewatching part 3 recently haha), thank you! It doesn't sound weird at all, no worries ^^.

Bucci Gang x kanao!reader

Giorno

If you're part of the team, you two probably joined at around the same time. Probably the easiest person to befriend outside of Bruno, Giorno's definitely more of one the chill side of the group

He won't push you to show emotions and while he may not fully understand your childhood trauma, he's had his own bad experiences that might help him see where you're coming from

When he starts realizing he likes you, he probably won't say it upfront and instead opt to show them in small gestures like giving you flowers from time to time. It's really wholesome haha

It'll be like baby-steps for the two of you. Like mentioned before, he won't push you to show emotions but he will definitely encourage you to make decisions by yourself. You two might start out with small decisions like what gelato to get without using your usual coin toss. It might take some time, but he'd rather let you get comfortable with expressing yourself than forcing you to

I think outside of those things though, Giorno would admire you for your resolve. Thinking about Kanao's personality, I feel like you would have a lot of resilience especially in combat. Overall though, he's extremely patient with your tendency to not show emotions, and he hopes that you'll find yourself breaking free from your past by being with your newfound family

Bruno

Very similar to Giorno except he's a bit more outgoing. Probably the one that you get close to first along with Giorno, and he's also the one that you might go to when you ever feel like you need some comfort

Also someone who won't push you to show emotions. He's good at reading people, so he didn't ask a lot about your tendency to not speak up or make decisions by yourself. He's happy to help you decide, but he also tries to get you to make decisions yourself through slow steps.

Definitely a little protective of you, though only Abbacchio will likely notice this haha. He's sort of like the mom of the group and so while he understands you have the full potential to protect yourself in a fight he also just doesn't like seeing you get hurt.

I feel like his love language is quality time and he likes to listen to others. When you feel comfortable talking to him more often, he'll definitely listen to you with undivided attention. He's just super caring 1000/10 like even if you don't think you need something if he sees you eyeing it the item will appear at your door the next day haha

Overall he'll make you feel at home. He doesn't want to ask about your past in the case that it makes you uncomfortable, but he wants to help you overcome your tendency to suppress emotions and not make decisions by yourself. Though it may take time, he's patient.

Abbacchio

I feel like he would be annoyed with you at first but at the same time not, like he thinks to himself "at least you won't be as loud as Narancia and Mista are." He won't put you through a "test" when you first join like he did to Giorno, but he won't give you a nice introduction either. He'll just stare at you for a bit before going back to his own business

Super emotionally constipated but will be nice to you. He'll be in denial that he likes you for a long time before suddenly it clicks one day. He won't have the courage to tell you upfront, but he'll definitely try to drop hints (it doesn't translate very well though so you might've heard he likes you from another teammate haha)

When he finds out about you inability to decide, he'll be a little more blunt about asking why that's the case and might be a little harsh with how you need to start making decisions yourself. He's patient and won't push you to talk about your past, but he also wants to help you out. Might ask Bruno for help. The same thing goes with your inability to express emotions. While he doesn't mind overall, he also wants you to feel free to express yourself. How he goes about helping you might start out with you two talking, and while he doesn't like to talk that much, if it helps you ease up a little he'll have no problem

I feel like he would be super protective of you too, though it's not as subtle as he wants it to be. He says he doesn't like pda and then when he thinks strangers are staring at you he'll put an arm around your shoulders for example.

I think he understands how painful it is to think about the past that he really doesn't want you to think too much about those experiences. Outside of that however, I feel like he would enjoy doing quieter activities with you like listening to music together. It's also a way for him to see if you express any emotions depending on the songs you two listen, you might catch him staring at you haha

Fugo

He wouldn’t have been super annoyed at you first because of how he likes quiet from time to time, but he did find your indecisiveness a little tiring. That doesn’t mean he dislikes you

Tries to help you but similar to Abbacchio he won’t be super friendly about it. He’s more like a kind teacher, strict and not cutting corners but at the same time giving a helping hand. He knows how much childhood trauma can hurt and how it can be hard to move from. You two might end up having to help each other

He doesn’t mind you not showing emotions but he’s also emotionally constipated. He wants to tell you he likes you without ruining your friendship, which means he ends up staring at you for a long time, maybe he’s trying to tell you through telepathy who knows. He also shows his affection by giving you random bits of knowledge when you two are together

When you start to warm up to him he’ll be happy. He’s surprisingly gentle with you too, which might surprise Narancia and Mista who are used to his more cold and prone to outbursts. Speaking of which, he tries his best to keep his cool around you in the case that loud noises is something triggering.

Though he can be a bit pushy when trying to help you overcome your tendency to be emotionless or indecisive, he ultimately is a great friend and bf. Might be a little protective too, which might get him some teasing from his other two dance buddies

Mista

He honestly thought that it was a little weird how quiet and emotionless you were but at the same time really didn’t mind. He’s seen all sorts of people and he’s close to Giorno who’s pretty quiet himself.

Super talkative, which means you end up listening to him more than the other way around. He’s also got a sense of humor, which might’ve led you to laugh from time to time. By the way he really likes it when you smile, thinks it’s super cute and will let you know when he sees it for the first time (he’s not scared of anything)

He’s patient at well when it comes to your tendency to not decide for yourself. Similar to some of the others, he’ll help you slowly build confidence by starting with smaller decisions like what cold cut meat to give to his stand.

Speaking of which, Sex Pistols is surprisingly clingy to you too, might be a way you found out Mista likes you if he didn’t tell you himself haha. They might help you show some emotions or make decisions too, they’ll also talk to you a lot

He doesn’t want to push you too much in case it becomes stressful so he doesn’t ask much about your past or make big strides to help you overcome trauma. However he’s definitely a bright character to be around, helping you loosen up a little bit

Narancia

He’s really similar to Mista. Narancia didn’t think it was really weird that you were emotionless or indecisive but he might’ve pointed it out at the start. He thinks it’s a bit odd that you don’t react that much in the beginning to any of the team’s antics but gets over it pretty quickly

Narancia’s a kind person, but he might ask questions sometimes too much. He might catch himself causing you to remember some really bad things which he immediately apologizes for, it’s a learning process for him but nonetheless it’s clear to you he’s interested in getting to know you better

Has a hard time hiding his crush that he gets teased on by Fugo and Mista. He might’ve gotten you a bunch of snacks after you mentioned to him how you liked a certain brand, or he is constantly clinging on you. Overall it’ll be easy to tell

Doesn’t have the greatest patience but he is caring. He doesn’t want to stress you out but wants to encourage you to make your own decisions. Will ask a lot of questions to help him choose things. He also tends to be talkative, which might help you bring out your emotions more too

I feel like he’ll be a little protective as well. He’s sort of hot-headed, so if he sees someone looking at you the wrong way he has no trouble going up to them and throwing insults (or fists). He wants you to feel safe in the gang like he did when he first joined, which will mean you’ll have someone behind your back.

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hihoace · 5 months

Text

Athis wasn't really the person who seemed to be found of other humans. Eversince they got on the ship they were very helpful, kind, but quiet. Not the type humans usually are. Athis was not loud, although they liked to sing, and their voice was kind of nice to listen to, so no one had a problem with it.

They seemed to know a good variety of folk songs of a specific region on earth. Oftentimes the crew found her gazing out one of the windows of the cantina instead of talking to the other humans or the other members of the crew.

Not that they were specifically asocial or hostile. They were kind of nice to talk to. On rare occasions they even talked a lot.

I took the time to talk to them as often as possible. I liked them. I asked them about their life... She opened up slowly. One time we started talking about their home.

"Ah... Gaia is a cesspool... It has so many good things but god awful politics and the people... Fuck the people. Honesty they are so brainwashed. You'd think with the universe open to them they would finally let go of these silly things like... Them being weird about same sex relationships. Why? The whole ass universe is open to us, we literally see interspecies relationships but they get weirded out by two women holding hands? And your own relatives chew you out for not agreeing with them on politics. And the lack of spine people have there... No offense Xebie... they are awfully two faced." they seemed stressed as they hid their face in their palms.

"It really does sound horrible... I would understand if you'd never want to go back."

"Ah that's my biggest problem... I cannot tell you how much I hate it but also... I miss it. I wish to go home I want to see trees and flowers I know the name of, I want to sing toghether with people who know the songs of my region... I miss speaking the language of my mother. I really miss it. And the food is great and the people can be so nice. And the Sun is such a pretty star. The evening sky is prettier than any painting or photo of it... Oh and I love people. I hate my kind but I also love them. We go to war, we hate for such ridiculous things, I cannot stand how prejudiced we are. And even like that... People help each other for no personal gain, make art, write poetry that makes me cry, create songs that make me smile... I love that side of us". their face lit up with something I rarely seen in her. I didn't understand human expressions well enough to decode it, but my interpreter program recognised it as something between admiration and disgust... "What I really love that we are not all that different. Not even from the other species. But that doesn't mean we are great. I think humans, though strong, have a lot to learn from species like yours. You never had wars! How much more intreeging that is."

Athis smiled at me than shook their head. "I talk to much." they said as they covered their mouth. "I am so sorry."

"Oh don't worry about! It was intresting. And I think I understand your feelings a little bit. I had a friend who was very talented, but turned out to be a horrible person overall. It was a very confusing feeling." I replied.

Athis wasn't that different afterall. Soon I learned most humans on our ship seen Gaia similarly. Humans seemed to carry a type of guilt with themselves. Learning the history of their homeworld made me understand why.

#humans are space orcs #space australians #humans are weird #humans are deathworlders

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yusume-the-writer · 4 months

Note

Olá! Esta é a primeira vez que faço um pedido e não posso deixar de ficar um pouco nervoso 😅

Eu estava simplesmente imaginando um Dia de folga do Sr. Vilão "o general" x leitora surda onde ele vê a leitora tentando pedir ajuda com seu celular para algumas pessoas na rua mas todos a ignoram e ele se pergunta o porquê, então eledecide para ajudá-la. Ela não fala com ele, mas escreve algo em seu celular dizendo que precisa ir para algum lugar. Ele se pergunta por que ela não fala ou pergunta diretamente para alguém e quando ele tenta perguntar algo ela age como se não o tivesse ouvido. Ele continua a ajudá-la, mas fica frustrado porque ela não responde à sua pergunta. De repente ele ouve gritos e alguém está prestes a atropelá-la com uma bicicleta mas ela parece não ouvir então ele a puxa para perto dele, ela fica com medo mas fica agradecida, ela faz um gesto de gratidão e é aí que ele percebe o aparelho no ouvido dela, ele fica confuso sobre o motivo dela ter isso, então depois de deixá-la ele volta para casa confuso. Mais tarde no trabalho, ele pede a seus subordinados que pesquisem sobre um determinado aparelho auditivo e descobre que a menina não ouvia e também não conseguia falar, também descobre que existe uma maneira de eles se comunicarem sem escrita, linguagem de sinais e pensa em como ela parecia ter tanto a dizer mas não conseguia então decide aprender, para Afinal nunca se sabe quando vai precisar.olga do Sr. Vilão "o general" x leitora surda onde ele vê a leitora tentando pedir ajuda com seu celular para algumas pessoas na rua, mas todos a ignoram e ele se pergunta o porquê, então ele decide para ajudá-la. Ela não fala com ele, mas escreve algo em seu celular dizendo que precisa i . Ele se pergunta por que ela não fala ou pergunta diretamente para alguém e quando ele tenta perguntar algo a ela idade como se não o tivesse ouvido. Ele continua a ajudá-la, mas fica frustrado porque ela não respondeu à sua pergunta. De repente ele ouve gritos e alguém está prestes a atropelá-la com uma bicicleta mas ela parece não ouvir então ele a puxa para perto dele, ela fica com medo mas fica agradecida, ela faz um gesto de gratidão e é aí que ele percebe o aparelho no ouvido dela, ele fica confuso sobre o motivo dela ter isso, então depois de deixar-la ele volta para casa confuso. Mais tarde no trabalho, ele pede a seus subordinados que pesquisam sobre um determinado aparelho auditivo e descobre que a menina não ouvia e também não consegue falar, também descobre que existe uma maneira de eles se comunicarem sem escrita, linguagem de sinais e pensa em como ela parecia ter tanto a dizer, mas não conseguia, então decide aprender, para Afinal, nunca se sabe quando vai precisar. He realizes how the land and the people there have more to be discovered than he thought. After their date, he seems to notice her in the places he frequents. The reader one day sees him at the Zoo and sees him admiring the pandas and joins him, on his next day off he meets her there again and she gives him a gift (a panda sweater that she made herself) he thanks her in sign languages (a little sloppy since he is learning, but soft) and a little smile

aaand you end this

Lamento que tenha ficado muito grande e específico, mas não posso mais ficar sem uma história sobre esse lindo vilão 😩 . Inglês não é minha primeira língua, então me desculpe se cometi um erro ou foi estranho. Beijos 😙

The girl with hearing aids

General x Fem Reader

Request made by Anon, I'm very happy that it's one of my first requests about kyuujitsu no warumono san/Mr.villian day's off and I hope more people make requests about this work

An interesting fact is that deaf people can speak and there is a minority of deaf people who are mute, but some deaf people don't speak because they haven't learned to speak.

E também estou bastante feliz de conhecer alguém que falar a mesma língua que a minha, e uma dica que dou e que use o app Google Tradutor e depois cola e copia já que juntou português e inglês

Genre: Fluff

Warning: When characters use sign language, they will be written like this: 'Goodbye'

General was on another day off

And more like a day off, he decided to go to the zoo and see the pandas

And here he was walking as he headed towards the zoo

Until he comes across a somewhat shocking scene

A (h/c) girl was showing her cell phone screen to someone, but the person ignored her and continued on her way

Then she goes towards someone else and tries to get their attention, but they also ignore her

General was surprised by this interaction and about the girl

And of course, he saw people asking for information, but everyone was always helped by someone

However... it seemed like they wanted to avoid the girl like she was the plague

He sees the girl trying but failing again

Until he decides to help her, then General walks towards the unknown

When he got close to her, he touched her shoulder, making her attention turn to him.

Then the girl turns around, and General can see her face better

The girl had (h/c) and (e/c), who looked at him with interest and curiosity as to why he caught her attention

"You are lost?" General says while waiting for the girl's reaction

She responds with a wave and shows her cell phone with a question written on it:

'Can you tell me where to stay...'

It was a place that passed by on the way to the zoo, so it wouldn't be a big problem to take her there.

"Of course, and just follow me," General says as the girl lights up

General then heads towards the path as she follows him

"Do you have any reason to go there?" General asks as he breaks the silence around them

.......Silence.......

'She's ignoring me?!?' He thinks in frustration as he moves his eyes towards her form

The girl, however, seemed more focused on the path than on him.

She acted like she didn't hear him

'Insolent Terran...' General thinks with frustration as he continues to guide her to the location, maybe the pandas will calm him down

So they get close to their destination; what's left is to just cross the street

Then the girl turns, bows in gratitude and starts to cross the street.

"OH GIRL, BE CAREFUL!!!!!!" Someone says while looking that she is referring to her

General looks at the scene of the noise and sees a young man going down the hill at high speed

Without thinking twice, he grabs the girl and pulls her towards him, causing the young man to fall on top of the bike.

"Everything is fine?" General asks while facing the young man getting up

"Ah! Yes, just a few scratches, but nothing serious," The young man says as he starts to get up and get on his bike

Suddenly he feels something. Try to get out of his grip

As he looks down, he sees the girl trying to get out of his grip.

"Are you well?" General asks while staring at the (h/c) girl who gets out of his grip

"I'm sorry about that," The young man says guiltily as he bows in front of the girl

The girl nods her head as a show of accepting the apology

General then ends up noticing something

There was some kind of device in her ear.

Without time to process this information, the girl appears in front of him and once again bows as a thank-you.

"I didn't need to, but next time, be careful..." General says while looking back at her posture and sending him a smile with her eyes closed

So the girl heads towards the street and looks both ways as she walks towards the place, not before saying one last goodbye.

He nods and leaves

But the general couldn't get his mind off the strange device in the (h/c) haired girl's ear.

Surprisingly he didn't go see the pandas and decided to go home

General was sitting at his desk

There was something in your thoughts

There is a girl who has a device in her ear

"Something wrong with your mind general?" A subordinate says taking the general out of his thoughts

"Hm... I want you to research a device that goes in the ear" General says while facing his subordinate

"Yes sir!" The subordinate says as he leaves the general's office in search of information about the device in the ear.

In front of the general was a table with a device identical to the girl's on it.

General carefully pick up the device and look closer

"Earthlings call it a hearing aid" The subordinate says while looking at the tablet for more information

General continues to stare at the device

"These devices seem to be made for Earthlings who are deaf" The subordinate continues

"Like this?" General says while taking his focus off the device and looking at his subordinate

"Well.. and having said that deaf people are a group of people who do not hear from birth or due to an illness, some learn to speak but others do not, not to mention that there is a low chance of some being born mute" The subordinate says

"Is there any way for them to communicate with each other?" General says

"Yes, Earthlings call it sign language" The subordinate says

"...Right, it's dismissing" General says as he gently places the device on the table

"Yes sir!" The subordinate speaks while standing in respect to his superior and leaving the room

As soon as the subordinate leaves the room, the General takes out his phone and starts researching more about sign language.

He noticed that a girl seemed to talk to him but couldn't

Maybe he got himself into a similar situation so he'd better be ready

And also that they maybe didn't know as much as they thought they did about Earthlings

But also... he was curious about the girl, maybe before the destruction of humans they could talk

General didn't expect to meet the mysterious girl with (h/c) hair

The first time they met was when he was shopping at the convenience store.

But that was a pleasant surprise to be honest.

Since he started learning sign language he was able to at least talk to her, not to mention that she helped him when he was confused or made a mistake.

Because of that he knew her name was (Name)

Now they once again met by chance at the zoo at the panda session

None of them said anything, but it was okay with them, it was a pleasant silence

The noise of visitors and the view of pandas playing brought more comfort

Suddenly (Name) has an idea, she waves goodbye to the general who responds so she leaves to prepare her plan

On another day off, General once again goes to the Zoo to see the pandas

When he got there, he went straight to the panda session and, as always, he took several photos of the pandas

Suddenly he felt a light tug on his coat.

He already knew who it was, so he turned around and found himself face to face with who he expected to be.

(Name surname)

"And you again" General says

(Name) nods and then she starts going through her backpack and takes something out of it.

It was a panda-themed sweater

Surprised General picks up the sweater and looks closer

The sweater showed in small details that it was handmade and appeared to be made with minimal care to be the correct size, however it would probably be larger than it should be.

General then moves his gaze to (Name), who responds, "You seem to like pandas, so I made it to thank you for that day" she says while smiling at him

With a soft smile, place your left palm down at 90 degrees, touch it with the edge of your right hand, and then bring it to your chin. "Thank you"

It may have been sloppy, but it was a nice gesture for (Name)

#mr villain's day off x reader #mr villain's day off #kyūjitsu no warumono san x reader #kyūjitsu no warumono san #fem reader #request #kyuujitsu no warumono san

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sashimiyas · 1 year

Text

In the Wild Grass

Summary: Osamu arrives at your roadside flower stand in need of a bouquet for his upcoming date. You flirt with him to get his loyal patronage and it works, maybe a little too well.

Content: roadside floral vendor reader; established entrepreneur Osamu; pining and poor timing; fluff; a reference to ATLA; a lot of references to Ghibli; even more wind imagery and references; Osamu’s love language is food; reader eats meat; reader has an aunt that they are very close to; discussion of death (metaphorically) by corporate means; a special appearance of mama miya in here because the miya family is everything.

Word count: 10.4k

A/n: this was originally inspired by roadside flowers by droeloe but got way too fluffy for the ambience. so we’ll do one summer’s day by sleepy tom which is like the lo-fi version of the ghibli one which is coincidental but still very fitting.

“I’m telling you, Auntie,” you catch the tablecloth every time you sway your foot, “the sales are at Taguchi, not West Food.”

The woman on the line gives a nasal hum, “no, I have the coupons right here! Weh-est food. That’s what it says.”

“Did you check the expiration date?”

“I did! It’s… oh…”

You stretch out your leg with a laugh that quickly stifles into a cough when the dirt you kicked up reaches the back of your throat.

She laughs into the phone that’s accompanied with the sound of crumpled paper. That’s what you’ve always admired about your Aunt. The woman never takes anything seriously, not even herself and you can only wish you can live life half as carefree as she.

“It’s okay.” You stop fiddling with the leaves of a bouquet in front of you once you hear her sing the words. Nothing good comes from Auntie singing and don’t ever, ever invite her to karaoke. With your back straightening, your fingers tighten around the phone the same time your eyes narrow. “Guess who is going to Taguchi to buy my corn dogs and umeboshi?”

“Not me!” you quickly say.

“Yes, you!”

“No.”

“It’s on your way home,” the final note hits sharp and forces you to pull the phone away from your ear.

“Yeah, but I’ll be tired. I’m working so hard–” she snorts at your statement, “–I am!”

“If you’re working hard, why are you talking to old lady me?”

“Because who else would…" you trail off.

He enters like the lead of a Ghibli movie.

A rickety truck announces his presence, but what captivates you is the image slowly revealed as he rolls down the window of his driver’s seat.

Your tongue hastens to lick your lips, “look at that.”

The wind billows through his hair as he pulls his truck over onto the gravel road. He makes a move to wave hi, charm lofty upon his cheekbones, but the breeze threatens to take his cap and he swiftly moves to tilt it back onto his head.

You vaguely hear Auntie whipping questions at you, but as the man swings out of his truck, all you can muster is a distracted hang on a sec before throwing your phone onto the table. He hustles to you as you stand up to greet him.

“Bless ya,” he says once he reaches you.

Now that he’s closer, you recognize the Ghibli charm is closer to human than magical. Handsome in all the right places and flawed in a perfectly relatable way. He’s got a stock face you swear you’ve seen on TV before but there are several stains on his shirt of various ages.

There’s a scar at his brow, a strike of land where hair doesn’t grow and you’re already picturing a backstory in your head. Did he grow up with a brother who he’d tussle and roughhouse with? Or was it a freak accident like his sweater getting caught in an escalator?

There are sparse patches of hair along his chin that imitate a rural map more than a suburban neighborhood but the way he speaks and the eye contact he holds is honest. With the trailing apron string hanging out from his front seat, you take it that working with people is what he does for a living.

“Are you in trouble?” a conspiratorial grin displays itself onto your lips.

He nods and it makes you chuckle, “yeah. I’ve got a date I’m running late for. Hoping this’ll help soften the blow.”

“With a face like that, no one could ever be mad at you.” He laughs instantly at your statement with a palm placed on his chest. His head bends backward as he closes his eyes and you cannot help but warm inside at the genuine reaction.

“Ya good at your job, ain’t ya?” He asks once he’s done. The observation surprises you, “flattering me so that if I get my heart broken, I’ll come back to ya so ya can raise my ego again.”

You grin, “I need to make money somehow.”

“Ya got me. Profit off my fuck ups, I’m begging.”

“Tell me the situation,” you say sagely.

He hesitates for a moment, picking up his hat to ruffle the hair underneath. He takes the back of his forearm to wipe the sweat that’s gathered at his temples and you witness a blessed second where his shirt ruches up to uncover a plump hip, soft and curving over the edges of his faded jeans like a perfectly formed roll of bread. It’s almost improper that you’re not biting into it.

“I’ve had to reschedule twice because things kept coming up,” he acknowledges your slight wince with a nod. At least he’s self aware. “Right? Hard to find someone with enough patience for me so I’m really hoping I don’t mess this up.”

You pick up a bouquet and hand it to him, “this should get them in your good graces.” He reaches for it but you pull back, eyeing him narrowly, “but the rest is up to you and that pretty face of yours. Make good use of it!”

“Ya really got to stop calling me pretty or ya won’t be able to get rid of me,” he mentions as the two of you exchange florals for currency.

Customer service toes the line with flirtation dangerously. A half true statement is far more enticing than blatant lies and calling this man pretty is the greatest half truth to exist because the word can hardly hold a candle to how attractive he really is. And usually, you’re better than this.

Usually.

“And what if I don’t want to be rid of you?”

He eyes you, mouth snapping shut as his gaze flutters from the bouquet in his hand and you.

“I need loyal customers like you to come back.”

You take one final look at him in all his Ghibli appeal. The wind kisses his hair once more, romance amplified by the swaying splotches of colors in his hand.

Then with a closed lip grin, he says, “like I said, ya got me.”

Your attention is rapt on him until he disappears with his truck into the distance. It takes a breath to still your heart and you bring your phone back to your ear.

All she says is, “who was that?”

He doesn’t come back. It’s unsurprising to say the least, though disappointing. Interactions are fickle and just because it was a good one doesn’t mean it has to happen again.

You’ve taken to daydreaming of sensible reasons why he hasn’t windswept his way back to your roadside stand. The date could have possibly failed but who could say no to a man like that? You’ve settled on a wild boar attack that’s neither life threatening or critical, but maybe has him houseridden for some time to heal. There’s that, a possible impromptu trip to the brother you’ve imagined him to have, or maybe he too has an aunt that has been piling her errands off to him.

“Which brand of corn dogs do you like?” Auntie has little patience for you. Being corndog-less and you deciding to procrastinate until the final day of sale has her quite irate over the phone.

“The one that’s on sale.”

“Yeah, there’s two brands.”

“I don’t know,” she’s probably throwing her hands up right about now, “the one that I eat.”

You purse your lips, staring intensely at the freezer section of Taguchi, willing one of the boxes to speak up and let themselves be known. The silence must unnerve Auntie because she gives in.

“I think it’s the red one.”

Neither of them are red and neither of you want to continue the conversation.

“Got it.” You open the door and play a small game of eenie meenie. It lands on one with purple packaging and you know little about color theory but you think it’s close enough. Purple is half red, isn’t it? You grab the box behind the first because it’s fresher and bid your aunt goodbye.

As you put your phone away, a familiar vision catches your eye. He registers you before you even recognize him.

“Fancy seeing ya here,” he greets all too familiarly with a cart full of items. You take a quick peek, notating the ungodly amount of mirin that clanks at the bottom of the trolley before picking your gaze back up at him. He’s handsome in fluorescent lighting too. Good for him, unfortunate for you.

“Hey, my most handsome customer,” you wince internally. What was that? You only hope it comes out in a doting kind of way like how the Aunties do instead of a creepy weirdo who spends their days stalking his socials.

(You have not stalked his socials. How could you when you don’t even know his name? What were you supposed to put? Hot guy in Hyogo with a black hat? Scrounge through recent Hyogo news until you find a recent wild boar attack? So yeah, you’ve not stalked the socials but would you if you had the resources? No comment.)

He shuffles in place, tongue riding the ridge of his upper lip as he picks up his hat and flips it backwards. Then he changes his mind a second later and turns the cap forward once more. Strands of hair escape from the circumference and it adds to the disheveled charm he’s got going on.

You can scratch out the wild boar attack because he’s looking better than ever. Especially with the way he’s grinning at you, cheeks spread so wide it’s almost morbid.

“Okay, calm down big guy. You’re competing against a couple of my uncles and a few farmers whose stray cows ventured further than they expected.”

He shrugs, unaffected. “I know a farmer and he’s a real handsome guy.”

You go to bite your lip, rolling your eyes at the same time and doing your best not to look amused. He’s so funny and cute and dammit, why couldn’t he have been roughed up by a wild boar even just a little bit? This interaction would have been easier that way.

“How’d the date go?”

That sends him for a loop. He sucks in a breath between teeth and your expression morphs into pity, “yeah, not so well.”

“What’d you do?” the affronted look he gives you is combated with a pointed stare, “I know it wasn’t my flowers that scared them away.”

“Definitely not ya flowers,” he ascertains and after a heavy dose of eye contact, his gaze falls to the contents of his cart and he shrugs, “just didn’t go the way I planned.”

His statement leaves something to be desired but who are you to know when you’re just the stranger that sold him a bouquet less than a week ago?

“Is it because you made them mirin soup? Because I can assure you that does not sound appetizing.”

You get another belly laugh from him and now you’ve made a game. You’re certainly not funny, but how many times can you make this attractive man laugh anyways?

“I’m telling ya, I can just about make anything taste good.”

“Oh really?”

You reckon this is his usual character as you gaze at him and the natural confidence he adorns. There’s a proud simper on his lips, one that dares you to take the bait. You step forward and you plan on saying something to egg him on, coast this flirtatious edge that started out easy because he was your customer but now, without the barrier of your floral stand, you do so for your own personal gain.

The contents slide in your carry and the box of corn dogs slips. The man tries to reach out, catch it before it falls, but he only grabs the corner, flipping it mid-air for it to land so spritely on the ground. It rolls a few steps away and you’re reaching for it immediately from embarrassment.

He has the same idea because he’s bending down with you, though much more graceful than your own movements. The rest of your armheld contents fall, and here you now are, hunched over and flustered in the frozen aisle of Taguchi.

You scamper around and grab onto everything before he can even help, a go for independence to save yourself from embarrassment.

“I’ve got it,” you reach for the bound bundle of leftover florals you brought in with you but his wingspan is longer, there before you are. The pads of your fingers graze the back of his hand. You retract at the sensation, like swirling your fingers in a freshly poured bottle of soda. There’s a desire that fizzes, thrums, beneath your skin and you know nothing good could come from exploring this feeling.

He’s dating. Doesn’t even matter. He’s a customer and you’re his romance provider.

He’s too busy picking it up for you that he doesn’t notice you staring.

You watch him inspect the flowers before handing it back. His hands twirl the stems between his fingers. Thick as they are, one index finger is bandaged with a design of the Little Twin Stars from the Sanrio franchise. You would have said something about it if you weren’t so deliberately focused on leaving the conversation.

“These for someone special?”

“Yeah.” The fluster makes you answer quickly, ducking your eyes away from him and snatching back your belongings.

“They’re lucky.” He stands up and you nod your head.

Internally, you’re elsewhere. It’s already been a long day, but now you’re trying to digest what just happened. The sensation is still present at the tips of your fingers. It feels like the dull burn after touching a hot pan, a throb that aches for the source.

“Yeah, uhm,” you gesticulate as you avoid eye contact with the man, “well, my Auntie’s been really craving these corn dogs so bye.”

Whatever response he provides is behind you, and when you get home, you decide to have a corndog for yourself as consolation.

(And one for Auntie of course.)

Your fingers struggle with opening the packaging, disgruntled at the thick cardboard it’s boxed in as the layers peel at your prodding. Then the bag slips from your fingers, the corndog tossed a little too harshly it rolls off the plate and onto the dining table. You fumble even with the microwave which is ancient, as old as Auntie herself where there are grooves at the “1” button and start. Your fingers shake as you stand dumbly in front of the appliance. They tap against each other, and finally alone with your thoughts and the hypnotic hum, you realize beneath the pads of your fingers is a quiet bubble searching for heat again.

Working a roadside floral stand is very tedious work. Auntie wouldn’t say so, but her word is worthless when you’re the one here and she isn’t. When you get in, you have to set up the table and if you don’t find paperweights made of large gravel within reach quickly enough, the tablecloth ends up flying off. The further it’s blown the more difficult it gets because you like to park on the edges of farmland. Cows consider cheap linen a premium option to grass it seems and you can’t sell bouquets without a cute little tablecloth. It may be a roadside stand, but it’s still a business. There are standards to uphold.

It takes precision, one that requires the use of your compass app on your phone to gauge the perfect spot among the beautiful wild grass, sweltering sun, and drying cow dung. Then with a snap of your chair and an open umbrella, you set your stand up lush with greenery and vibrance, from backyard to roadside.

The rest of the day is full of intermittent interactions, of school children with innocent crushes and lost tourists who buy flowers as payment. Your umbrella follows the rotation of the sun and when you get thirsty, you share a bit of your own water with your bouquets as well.

It’s a modest life. A simple one. A stress-free one.

“Welcome back!” The reminder is worth it. Your greeting is breezy and light, just like the sway of leaves on your bouquets. “Need more flowers?”

What is it with this recent weather here in Hyogo? It has him constantly looking like the main character of a movie with the way the sun casts a golden glow on half of his frame and clothes billowing the other. Who has blessed him with this benefit? The wind goddess? Because if so, what had you done wrong because all it lands you is dust in your eyes and hair stuck to your lips.

In an effort to remain polite and cordial and to retain your valued proclamation of a family-friendly business, your eyes glance down at the bag in his hands. There’s a large character on the bag, one that you recognize matches the cap he wears. It’s pleated neatly as if someone had taken care to avoid wrinkling the edges, careful in its presentation.

“Ya ain’t going to call me pretty this time?”

He effectively gets your attention at his statement, a goading simper on his lips when you catch his eyes that pulls an entertained glimmer in your own. It’s easy to get caught up in his presence, a drawstring pulling you loose at his easy words and you wonder really, who is standing at the vendor side of the table.

You pucker your face, an exaggerated expression that prickles the corners of his lips. It’s earnest and you almost lose yourself in wanting to smile at him. Almost.

“It’s not cute when you have to ask for it.”

“Wasn’t trying to be cute,” he mutters to the side. The confidence is replaced with petulance. You have little time to admire the way his bottom lip protrudes, a shiny shimmer lining the plumpest part of his lip, because he shoves the contents in his hands onto yours. It’s like if he didn’t, you would have declined him. The takeout bag lands dumbly in your arms as you stare up at him. You think it’s the residual warmth of it, the heft of it, meaning the contents inside must be hearty and fulfilling that leaves you speechless.

“Hope I can win some points with this, then.”

“This.”

“Lunch. I didn’t see ya have any last time I came by.”

“Oh, I just…” You look back at your little van. The door is brandished open, revealing the inside of the vehicle. There’s the thrifted seat covers Aunty got, blue plaid that isn’t quite your style but very much her price, and the groovy little flower pot you have taped to your dashboard that bobs its head at every swerve of a pothole which is your addition, very much your style. The small little trash can is hidden near the foot of your passenger side that’s accumulated at least two week’s worth of jelly pouches and stray bags of snacks didn’t seem to need much mentioning. So you gesticulate, feeling quite clumsy at your stand for once.

“Figured as much,” is all the man says to you. Then he taps the bag twice, eyeing your purposely, “and I told ya I can make a mean meal. Looked like ya didn’t believe me so I had to prove ya wrong.”

You pinch the swell of your lip with a canine, “you’re doing this out of imaginary spite?”

“Honor,” he corrects.

Your hand thoughtlessly moves to cover your left eye.

Then in a deeper voice, straight from the chest, “I must find the Avatar and restore my honor.”

“Ya think I’m like Zuko?”

The shriek you emit startles him. He takes an exaggerated step back with a palm as the first line of defense but you’re unperturbed because in the midst of his shock, is an entertained quirk in his lips.

“You’ve watched Avatar?”

He drops the hand now, fully grinning, “who hasn’t?”

“Points! You have all the points, you pretty, beautiful man with the very good taste.”

And though he’s the one who asked for it, he gets uncharacteristically shy when you finally say it. You pause, taking in the way a finger rises to brush his cheek as his chin dips to his chest. The movement taunts your own, as if a string is drawn from his chin to your chest as it constricts with a want that shouldn’t be there.

It all comes back, that breezy feeling as the wind picks up his hair again. The man places a palm flat to your table as you hover all your plant babies. They brustle under your care and you have to close your eyes when the flapping of nylon behind picks up. He shuffles himself to the side which softens the wind’s blow as he grabs onto your awning to hold it down. The two of you stay there under the wind’s torment. If you had your eyes open, you would have noticed that the man’s gaze never left you.

You run your hands across your face, the breath of a deep sign finally withheld from your chest when it’s over. See, you mentally think, assessing the damage to your goods. They’re slightly ruffled, not as quite picturesque, but no losses. You might have to redo a couple of bows or sell some at a discount if anything. And Auntie tells you this isn’t hard work.

“Thanks,” you grin at the guy who helped you through the small blustery storm, but quickly, you’re disarmed at the racing in your chest from the vision of him. He has arms up as he pulls back down the nylon that had been displaced. The muscles in his back flex against his tight shirt leaving you in an enchanted stupor. Ridges form in the large expanse, an eruption of new land, and suddenly you’re ready to put a hat on and call yourself an archaeologist.

His Ghibli appeal has gone off the ratings. Or maybe your mind has.

You clear your throat. He looks at you, torturously attractive, and you can’t meet him back.

“Flowers, right?” You sound lame so you play with an arrangement that’s gone astray. A red camellia is askew, far from the rest of its friends. You pick it up and dust the sticky pollen that’s painted its petals before returning it back to its rightful spot. “What’s the occasion this time?”

“Oh.” He mutters it so softly that you can’t help but glance up. He’s surprised, as if the statement is shocking. You want to reach for the feeling that it lights up in you, but against all desire, you let it snuff out into the small squall that has sprung into your stand.

“You can’t have just come here to drop me off food from,” and you pick up the bag to read the character, “the shrine?”

“Onigiri Miya.”

“Miya. Why does that sound so familiar?”

“It’s the best restaurant around.”

“No, that’s not it,” you’re too busy thinking of where exactly you’d heard that name to notice the way his face wilts. “I feel like I know someone or something. I just can’t remember…”

“Miya Atsumu?”

You snap your fingers, “yes! the volleyball player for… for uhm–”

“MSBY.”

“Yes! That’s it! My deskmate was obsessed with him. Oh my god, do you know him?”

Your delighted mood stutters at the cross of his arms. It’s the first time he seems unwelcoming, miffed even. His eyes fall to the table now, chewing on his cheek, and you notice the way his nose slightly flares when he breathes in.

“Oh no. Is he a conceited asshole?”

“Ain’t even the start of it.” The response is quick, as if defensive. Or maybe instinctive? He seems to know him quite well.

“Oh, don’t tell me. My deskmate is going to be crushed. I mean, the whole hand-fist thing he does on court is one thing, but it’s kind of sexy how he commands a crowd, you know? But I could totally see it. He does give horrible boss vibes.”

“Ya think Tsumu’s my boss?”

Now the man before you looks absolutely crestfallen. It aches you with the urge to apologize even if you don’t know what for.

“Hey, I’m—” you quickly cut your breath because is saying sorry even the right thing to do?

He shakes his head and picks an arrangement closest to him. “No worries. I’ll take these.”

He’s out before you even have a chance to reach for change, but before he goes, he doesn’t fail to remind you.

“Make sure ya eat.”

So you’re lying. Maybe working a floral roadside stand isn’t hard work. Maybe it’s just a lot of sitting and waiting and scrolling through social media and searching up wild boar attacks and going on deep dives of a couple of Olympic athlete’s socials. And when you finally reach the end, photos from 2014 that have an unpolished finish and grainy texture untouched by a PR team, one that you have to zoom with two fingers and a withheld breath, wary you’d accidentally like it, do you just sigh.

Because that’s it. You’ve finally hit the bottom of the seemingly never ending void of the internet and the last public photo of him to exist is from his and his brother’s graduation date.

So you call your deskmate for more information because if there were any resource to trust, it’d be him.

It’s not even hard to coax the details out. One small mention of the joint calendar you two shared, a quick, wasn’t your favorite athlete on there? Who was it again? and you’ve created a spiraling madness of all things Miya Atsumu.

“He’s a libra sun and he went to Inarizaki High where he was captain of the volleyball team in his final year. His official height according to the Olympic roster is 187 cm and his favorite food is fatty tuna.”

“Fatty tuna?” Your mouth waters instinctively at the bite you had snuck in while Auntie wasn’t looking. When the man had brought you lunch all those days ago, you don’t know who exactly he was trying to feed because the two of you had leftovers for at least two meals over. And that’s only because you had to beg Auntie to share.

“Yeah, specifically fatty tuna onigiri made by his brother.” A bubble of breath creates a blockade in your throat. You still at the mention of him. “His twin brother.”

“He has a twin?” you ask softly, so unconvincingly innocent but any reason for your deskmate to keep prattling on.

“Oh yeah, just as hot as Atsumu actually. He played volleyball too but decided he didn’t want to go pro. Atsumu talks about him in interviews all the time. He’s his favorite teammate…”

You want to listen, learn more about your customer that you’ve so frivolously flirted with, but your mind wanders to those hands. The ones with the sanrio bandaid idling behind the register at his shop as he looks at the readymade onigiri in the display case up front. Him in all his Ghibli grandeur, the tight black shirt, the hat, and the small sheen of sweat that covers the short hairs on his nape.

His hair sways from the wind despite him being inside. (It’s your imagination and not everything has to be realistically sound.) You can imagine him with one arm crossed and the other bent with his chin between the crook of his thumb, pondering what flavors of onigiri he should give you before heaving a sigh and taking a towel to wipe at his neck.

Of course he gives you a couple original onigiri. Popular in its simplicity, it’s easy to taste talent in the meager ingredients. But for you to receive a fatty tuna one, it seems purposeful. There’s meaning to his choices and it forces your heart aflutter, even if you might be making this all up.

“…but the best part of Miya Atsumu is how endearingly clumsy he is. There’s all these videos of him tripping on court. I’ve got to send you some. Hold on. I’ve got some saved here.” You hear clicking on their end and then he laughs. “Oh my god, I have to send you this interview too. I have so many videos saved. Do you want them all?”

“Yeah, yeah.” The response is mindless as you continue tapping your foot, playing with your tablecloth in the process. You’ll take any crumbs you can get since you doubt he’d ever come back to your stand after you’d offended him.

Ugh. If not for the overwhelming guilt you’ve been sleeping with, you can’t even believe you’d said that.Goose flesh bubbles on your arms that you physically have to stave off as you remember how your last interaction happened. You called his own twin brother his boss, completely undermined all the hard work he’d probably put in to get his business out there, and basically demoted him.

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, you know. He was just a customer. But no matter how many times you tell yourself that, it never becomes more convincing.

Maybe that’s how it started and maybe that’s what made the flirting so easy, but it was the shy look he’d get whenever you called him pretty. And it was when he’d brought you lunch of his brother’s favorite. And the feel of his skin beneath your fingertips. And–

“I’ve got to go.”

You throw your phone to the side as you stand up, rigid with your hands behind your back. Your hands throw themselves behind your back as you fidget in your spot. Fingers pinch between each other, twisting and turning this nervousness that you have no idea how to hold because he’s back. Devastatingly as beautiful as ever.

Your lips roll inward because there’s so much you want to say but you can’t quite parse what you’re trying to express. Apologize, of course, but you also want to say you miss him. How appropriate would that be?

The metal clank of his truck door slamming closed pulls you out of your reverie. He approaches, a more serious look on his face than ever before and for some reason, his gaze falls downward at the dirty clouds of dust every step of his makes. It’s as though he cannot even look you in the eye.

To be deprived of something you’d always had, it turns idle hands into fists.

“Welcome back, Miya-san.” You bow to show your earnestness. When his shadow doesn’t come, you look up to see him stalled mid-step.

He looks at you in bewilderment. The pause is intensified by the way the wind blows. It sways his bangs as his tongue peaks out to moisten his lips. The cellophane wrapped around your bouquets rustles. You hold his gaze, hands still jittering behind your back, fiddling with unspoken words you can’t bring yourself to say.

Miya Osamu. With a name and a background not formed from your imagination, and finally, his presence real and in front of you, the desire swells. It slips between your fingertips and forms into something far larger than you can manage. Like hanging a hand outside of a moving car.

“Miya-san?” he repeats back to you but there’s this contagious grin on his features that lightens you inside. You have to bring your hand to your chest, tamping your heart in before it leaps out.

“I had to look you up. I’m sorry about last time, for calling Miya-san, er, Miya Atsumu-san–”

“Call me Osamu. Or Samu. Ya can leave Miya-san for my shitty brother.”

You wring your t-shirt into a fist at the idea, introducing yourself to him. He nods brightly at you when you do. “Well thank you, Osamu, for lunch last time. My Auntie and I enjoyed it very much and she agrees. You own the number one restaurant around.”

The ecstasy on his face is infectious. You have to smile too, though you know that you’re probably fueling an ego that is large on its own. It’s fine, you think. What’s life without a little indulgence?

“Well ya tell her that she’s welcome to stop by any time.” Then he gives you a pointed look, “and tell her that she should bring ya along. It’s only right that ya visit me next time around.”

You bow, not out of gratitude but only to hide your elation. “Thank you for your loyalty.”

“Like I said, ya got me.” He brings his thumb to rub at his jaw. This time, you notice he’s shaved. “Ya had lunch yet?”

You shake your head and he tells you to wait right there. You ask him where else would you go. Then he runs to his car, rummages through his front seat, butt bent over for you to see, and he quickly scurries back with another pleated bag in his hands.

“Mind if I sit here?” He points to an upside down milk crate that you use to hold your vases and you simply urge him on, sitting with him. “Ya should start bringing ya own food. Didn’t ya listen to me when I said ya should eat? It’s basically dinner time and I won’t always be available to stop by.”

“I bring snacks. Besides, I thought you said I’ve got you,” you flutter your eyes, annoyingly teasing. He entertains you with a small chuckle.

“Ya do. Favorite roadside stand around.”

“I’m the only stand around.”

He bends his neck back to laugh, “ain’t that right. Bit of a drive to get out here.” Then he pulls out the contents of his packed lunch. “Which one ya want?”

“The one that’s your favorite.”

To your surprise, he hands you a fatty tuna onigiri. You take it, wide-eyed and enamored. “Tell me why this one is your favorite.”

He looks at the onigiri in your hand with a fond expression, affection oozing from just his gaze. But his answer is despite that.

“No big reason. Just my favorite to make.”

What a liar. What an endearing, little liar that has you hiding your cheesy grin behind your hands.

“What?” he asks innocently.

You shake your head, “nothing.”

He speculates, ponders you with a side glance, before letting it go. “Well, mind telling me how ya ended up in the roadside business? Pretty peculiar if ya ask me.”

“I don’t think anyone asked you,” you mention wryly as you unwrap the clingfilm around your onigiri. He snatches it from your palms with a chuffed grin.

“Brats don’t deserve my food.”

“Hey.”

“Don’t ya pout at me with them puppy dog eyes. It ain’t gonna work.”

You blink rapidly, jutting your bottom lip forward. He holds your gaze and it’s a valiant effort. The poker face would fool you. If only he could he hide the breadth of his chest and the way it heaves at every passing second.

Still, he does not budge. So you succumb with a nod. The loss is not so bad when you get to see his victorious face, a smugness that only amplifies his boyishness, the small scar on his brow pulling taut.

“Fine,” you say as he tosses you back your onigiri. “It usually does.”

“Grew up with a soppy ass brother. I’m desensitized as it is.”

There’s more you want him to divulge, but you don’t press. Not when you had prodded in the wrong way last time. If he’s going to share pieces of himself, you’ll let him do it on his own accord. (And then maybe you might sneakily stalk him on the internet but who doesn’t?)

You unwrap it and allow your hands to follow the grooves of rice beneath the seaweed. You nibble at the top, let the wrapping melt upon your tongue with a burst of salt and umami. Spurned by the taste, saliva pools in your mouth.

He nudges you with his shoulder, almost completely knocking you out of your chair. He scoffs at what he believes is probably an exaggerated reaction but does he even realize how big he is? A granule of rice pops from his mouth and onto his shirt. He sweeps it off without a hint of embarrassment.

“Go on now,” he says to you, “tell me ya story.”

You take a bite out of the onigiri. It’s preciously held between your hands, handling it with care just as you assume Osamu had done in every step before this. At first, you’d done it just to gather your thoughts because though it’s not much of a story. It feels like a whirlwind of a lifetime since the start of your stand, but Osamu grows antsy. He starts bouncing his foot beneath him in small little movements so as to not kick up dust. So you hold off just a little longer, relishing the undivided attention he provides you.

“There’s not much to tell,” you reminisce of a past life, one that’s more regimented, one that abided by the hour of the clock than the pattern of the sun. “I was a regular corporate peon working in those multi-storied buildings with the business clothes and everything.”

The man gives you a look, as if he couldn’t even imagine you in corporate clothing.

“I can clean up nicely if I wanted to.”

“If ya wanted to.” He repeats knowingly, as if he’s suddenly in on a secret you’re privy to.

“If I wanted,” you reiterate. Osamu doesn’t threaten to taunt you any further so you continue. “I just did it because everyone does it. I respected my seniors, never turned down an invitation to drink after our shift, and when I was no longer the newbie, I extended the invite to the coworkers under me.”

The way you speak feels out of place, like you’re not telling your own story, but someone else’s. Which in reality, it’s true. That was a different person who lived that life and definitely not twho you are now.

“And as business cycles do, it lulled and I was laid off.” Osamu wants to say something, but can’t seem to find the words. So you save him by ignoring the silence and move along. “Working was my whole personality and I didn’t know what to do with myself afterwards. But is it weird? My boss told me the news and for some reason, the first feeling I had was relief. I was relieved I didn’t have to wake up at dawn again just to get ready. I could do whatever I wanted and wake up when I wanted and go wherever I wanted. But then the reality set in. This society is so structured that I had no idea what I even wanted with the freedom I had because everything is decided for you. You know what I mean?”

He only hums beside you, listening intently and allowing you the stage. It’s nice, you realize. Auntie, as supportive as she is, has a tendency to make you feel guilty even unintentionally. It’s hard to diverge from the paved path that society likes for everyone to follow and the journey has been rigorous. It may have led you to a backroad of wild grass and dust, but even then, you know you’d rather have that than the heavily trekked footpath of the soulless.

“You go to school and you take all these prep courses, go to club activities, and then you go to college. You’re expected to basically plan your life the moment you speak your first word and your parents and teachers all like to tell you you’re special when in reality, you’re just a number. I was a quota, not a name. I was defined by metrics and not really by who I was. It didn’t matter how many after work dinners I accepted or offered.

“I hated that. And I remember vividly the moment I realized it. It was the first time in a long time I ever felt strongly about something and the last time before that was watering flowers in my Auntie’s garden.”

“So ya Auntie got ya selling these flowers?”

You snort, remembering the fiery ire of your beloved maternal figure. You broke the news to her during a random session where she’d pulled out her karaoke kit to belt out an off-Broadway (off-off-Broadway. Like Broadway in a different country off) rendition of Let It Go from the famous children’s movie. You thought her good mood could compete over your complete disappointment and figured the sentimentality of it all would be convincing. It, unfortunately, had not been.

She had sung-yelled her lecture at you, feedback from the mic and all. Reminded you it was just a hobby and that hobbies do not make money. You did so anyways, worked like you had something to prove. You bought off her secondhand van that she had no use for anymore with a portion of your savings, roamed across cities, met and learned so many things, and eventually claimed your space here.

“Not really. She was so mad at me but she couldn’t say anything when she had more flowers than she could give out for free. I don’t have any talent growing them. Even arranging them required a lot of classes to get it just right. I’m still winging it most of the time, but I guess Auntie saw something in me that made her just accept it. Maybe like renewed vigor because even if it’s not her first choice, she’s still the one who leaves a basket out for me every day after her morning pickings.”

You look at the arrangements displayed before you and then at the onigiri in your hand, turning it over as you admire the handiwork he’d put in. “I never wanted to be a number ever again.”

“I get ya.” Osamu’s voice is pitched so soft you can’t help but look at him. His onigiri has been long devoured so he displays all his attention on you. You feel so seen, you almost feel just as shy as you would be if you were found naked in public.

“Everyone expected my brother and I to go pro. Volleyball.” He adds offhandedly, “and I think I wouldn’t have minded doing that if I had to. I could see a future doing it just because I’d already done it all my life. We started playing when we were young and I ain’t gonna lie, I was pretty good. Still am to be honest.”

“You’re very modest,” you note.

“Thank ya,” he supplies wryly. The two of you share a knowing look with tilted smiles though he’s far more beautiful when he does, wind charming his hair into a pretty tussle. “But I know I would have been doing it all for the wrong reasons. Tsumu’s in love with volleyball. I’m telling ya, he’d marry the sport if he could, and I love it, just not exactly like him. And we’d always been a set. They’d call us the twins of volleyball, but he was older and more obsessed. He was invited to this youth training camp while I just stayed at home and maybe I’m just like ya. I was tired of being a number but if I had to be, I wanted to be number one.”

Pride blossoms within you. It makes you grin at him. “The best restaurant in town.”

He gives a quiet, little chuckle. It’s very different from its predecessors. Small, contained, and fond. You hold your breath so you don’t stir it. “Yeah and mind ya, my brother hated the idea just like ya Auntie. We argued, made it everyone’s business because that’s just how we are, but eventually he came around. Not without a fight though.”

“Who won?”

Offense saturates his features, “course I did.”

“Maybe he was just being a nice, older brother and let you win.”

“Ya have no idea how Tsumu is and it shows.”

“Actually,” you point out, “my deskmate who’s obsessed with him says he’s clumsily endearing and that his favorite food,” you hold up the onigiri you’d been coddling with a satisfied smirk, “is fatty tuna. What a coincidence, right?”

Instead of being embarrassed, a single glimmer flecks his beautiful, slate eyes, “ya think ya so smart, don’t ya?”

“No, not at all. I’m actually very modest.”

You settle into a comfortable silence. His company is welcomed and he sits, eyeing the surroundings and your tablecloth and your awning, and he keens his neck to take a peek into the inside of your van while you chew on the onigiri he proffered.

You roll your final bite between your fingers before popping it into your mouth. “What else do you have planned today?”

The question has Osamu jumping up in his seat. It makes you almost tilt out of yours. He looks wide-eyed, like a fox who’d just heard a twig snap. Then eerily, he turns to look at you with that same helpless expression he’d first come with to your stand.

“I’ve got to make a dinner.”

“Oh.” The sentence is innocent, but the weight of it makes your stomach lurch. Its implication is obvious. He doesn’t say anything, only watches the way your expression changes so you do your best to school it back into something more controlled.

You had known this since meeting him from the very beginning. He was out dating and socializing and surely meeting very nice people that would be perfect life partners. You were never a contender, just the romantic means to a successful date.

“You better get going,” you urge by standing up. “You can’t be late for another date. Here, the flowers are on me this time.”

“Ya don’t need to do that.”

“It’s my treat,” you insist. “Which one would you like?”

He looks down to deliberate on his choices far longer than you expect. “I liked the ones that ya brought to the grocery store.”

It takes you a beat to even garner an inkling of what he’s talking about.

“Ya know, that one that ya brought for ya special someone?”

Special someone? Who in the world? It finally hits you that he’s talking about the corndog incident and the flowers you’d brought for Ito on behalf of your Auntie. She wanted to thank him for walking her to her car.

“Oh. You want something like that?” Those were more of an arrangement that spoke of gratitude, not romance.

He shrugs a single shoulder. “Something like that. They liked it, right?”

You nod and he shrugs again, pensive this time.

“Then yeah, something like that. Whatever ya recommend.”

It had been a decent day with only slim pickings left. You look at your display stand, mulling over your choices. Instinctively, you pluck an arrangement from the center and hand them to him. He looks it over. There’s a cute crinkle to the bridge of his nose when he dips his face near them.

“Ya sure I can have these?” he looks over to you with a cute quirk in his brow.

You nod and he gratuitously accepts. He walks away with color fluttering in his hands. What he doesn’t know is that he holds the hues of your heart.

They’re your favorite flowers.

There’s something ominous about the way Auntie holds onto the crook of your elbow. Her bony fingers dig in and the meat in your arms is not enough to soften her touch.

“Auntie,” you’re begging as your freehand tries to pry the grip of her fingers, “loosen up a little, geez.”

She only grasps harder, a click on her tongue as she provides you a stony glare, “you’re walking too slow.”

“It’s not going anywhere,” you remind her. “For someone with a bad hip, you sure are walking fast. Will you please calm down? You know I can’t lie to Dr. Sarada if she asks me if you’ve been overworking yourself. That woman is a saint.”

There’s no argument to be made because what you’ve just said is not a lie. The doctor is a walking patron, the embodiment of miracles and kindness. Auntie repays her by slowing down but with the small grumblings beneath her breath, you know she’s only doing this for her and not for you.

When the two of you arrive at the restaurant, it’s packed to the brim. There’s a small line out the door. Auntie starts complaining lowly again, saying if you’d walked faster then you would have avoided this. There’s hardly any true animosity beneath her tone, but you know she means her words even when you tell her that a few extra seconds saved would not have been enough.

You leave her on a bench nearby so she can rest her legs while you wait in line. Of course it makes sense for the best restaurant in town to have a line outside, and it’s not like you thought the claim was false, just maybe slightly exaggerated. The truth proves you wrong and after a half hour, you’re finally at the front of the line.

The hostess excuses herself for just a second so she can lead the group in front of you to a seat. She comes back to tell you that there should be another table ready in about ten minutes. Auntie won’t be happy, but once she finally satisfies her craving for Osamu’s food, it’ll be nothing but sweet hummings from her.

You busy yourself with a mindless game on your phone when you hear the call of your name. He’s even more devastatingly beautiful with the apron on. You wave shyly when you notice a woman at the end of the bar turn your direction. She smiles knowingly at you as Osamu beckons you in.

“Excuse me,” you mutter as you pass the hostess and stand awkwardly behind seated patrons. Osamu wears the same uniform, but this time with a towel around his neck. He moves to brush the tip of his lips, holding your gaze when he does. When he’s done, he reveals this delighted smile that has your heart shamefully stuttering.

This is no way to look at a taken man.

“Gotta be honest, I’m surprised to see ya.”

“Of course. I had to visit my…” you pause, because there’s no way you can call him handsome now without it being an awfully truthful burden. He looks on, so you finish lamely, “customer.”

Your name is uttered again but not by Osamu this time. You look to your left and find a middle aged woman eyeing you up and down. It’s nerve wracking and you almost wish you didn’t make eye contact so you could just pretend you didn’t hear her.

“Is that ya name?”

“Yes.”

She smiles with a sly look on her face that seems so familiar and it all makes sense when you hear Osamu again.

“Ma,” it’s a strained warning, soft, scared. Embarrassed?

You look at her again in a renewed light. When the sun hits Osamu just right, their hair color matches. Her easy to read expression reminds you of the candor you’ve witnessed in all these videos of Miya Atsumu your deskmate had sent you but the way she carries herself is all Osamu.

Atsumu is intense and commanding. From all the videos you’ve watched, even the squeak of his sneakers has a distinctive sound that forces everyone’s attention. The two Miyas in front of you attract flock with mellow waters. It’s a calm draw, an easy thing to sink into.

“Osamu, baby, grab another chair.” She strikes the tabletop beside her. The sound is sharp. “Ya come over here and ya sit by me. Pack in like a tin of sardines, why don’t we?”

“I came here with my Aunt,” you try to divert.

“Well what are ya waiting for? Grab her!” The woman gets up so she can scooch her seat closer to the other patrons. “Osamu, two chairs!”

It seems you and Osamu are both under the rule of a domineering maternal figure. Auntie is happy to find out her wait is over and even happier to notice that her seat is at the bar where she can watch the magic happen.

“The corndogs you got me could never compare to this.” Your nose scrunches at her unfair comparison.

“Ya’ve had my son’s onigiri before?”

“Only a sample because I had to share with this one.”

It was a mistake to sit in the middle. Where’s Osamu to act as a buffer? Your eyes flick to the back of his restaurant only to find a controlled madness of people and food and plates.

“I shared it with you.”

“Oh, don’t ya bicker now. I’m sure my baby will send ya home with a truckload if ya accepted.”

“Really?”

The polite laugh you emit hardly hides your true feelings. “Auntie, we don’t have enough fridge space.”

“Ya better fill up here then. I had Osamu start a special batch for the two of ya.” The Miya matron passes you a contraption that holds a multitude of small containers. “Ya need any sauces?”

You decline while Auntie graciously accepts. She busies herself with concocting her perfect complement to the food she’s about to eat while you settle in an uncomfortable silence. Osamu’s Ma won’t stop eyeing you with her knowing grin. You feel like a specimen underneath her gaze, finding things about you that you don’t even know yourself.

And because you’re searching for something to do, and not so much that you’re eager to impress the mother of a handsome man/stranger/customer/guy who brings you lunch every so often, you reach into your bag to pull out the small batch of florals you’d forgotten about.

The vision of your favorite flowers renews a sense of pride and confidence in you. You’re finally able to meet her in the eye and hand them to her in complete assurance.

“I brought these because Osamu always brings me something when he visits. To liven up the place but please accept this as gratitude. Thank you for sharing a meal with us.”

She twirls the flower by the stem with a honeyed expression. It’s wistful when she says, “ain’t ya a pretty thing.”

Something spurs on in your stomach because in the middle of her sentence, she decides to look at you. She breathes in deeply. The open end of her cardigan spreads as she does and then deliberately, with a low and slow tone, “ya know what. I’ve got to ask ya. What do ya think of my son over there?”

You flutter at her forwardness. Eyes follow her pointed finger to find Osamu’s back (the deliciously rippled back) turned to you, bent over something steaming. It seems your gaze must be telling because when you look back at the woman, she’s giving you a conspiratorial grin.

“He’s nice!” you deflect by naming an objective truth. Osamu is kind. He doesn’t have to continue his patronage, doesn’t have to bring along something for you to eat, but he always does. Every interaction you’ve had with him has been a good one.

“I think so too,” Mother Miya confirms. Then she props her head in her hands with an elbow bent on the table and provides you a lazy look. “Ya know he works too much.”

You look around. The restaurant is a blur of interaction. There’s a baby crying and two uncles gossiping over fish prices. It looks like there’s a group of students who’d meant to study but succumbed to easy conversation between each other. Employees weave through the crowds in practiced motions, quiet tables filled with the sound of indulgent chewing. It’s lively and so very human.

“It looks like it’s worth it.”

She smiles at your response, as if it was the correct reply to provide. “Ya really think that, don’t ya?”

“I do.” It’s impossible not to raise your inflection at her question. Of course you do. It’s not hard to see that this is where Osamu belongs. You try your best to imagine him in the same uniform that his brother dons, with a number and jersey on his back. It’s easy to slap his face on top of Miya Atsumu’s and change the hairstyle and color just a bit. With the way the athlete plays, you’re sure that Osamu could wear a similar presence on court.

But there’s something about the way he looks in apron and the way he fits behind a bar that’s beyond any Ghibli romance or appeal. He’s the reason, the source, the one who’d whisked everyone into his restaurant.

“Both of them are like that,” she takes a sip of her water before continuing. “I don’t know what I did but somehow I’ve raised two of the hardest working boys. Ya know he’s a twin, right? Ya want to see my other one?”

Osamu’s mother doesn’t even wait for your response, unlocking her phone to barrage you with an album full of her beloved children. You lean in closer to her shoulder so you can get a better look, eager to rid yourself of the attention she had on you.

Osamu was a very cute baby and a horribly awkward teen. He hardly smiled in pictures during high school so you’re happy to see the more recent ones where he is.

“This was us after Atsumu’s first pro game.” She zooms in on the picture, “that’s sweet Aran, their childhood friend.” Then swipes to the left so it’s only the twins on screen. They wear pride the same. That, you notice immediately. Then she zooms in closer onto Atsumu’s face, “doesn’t he look so happy?”

You hum. He does. The two of you admire his expression, but you spend more time trying to dissect the differences between the two. You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t even realize Osamu’s set plates in front of you.

“Alright, he ain’t that interesting to look at.” He plucks his mother’s phone out of her hands with a grumble. Then turning to her, “I leave ya for just a second and ya causing trouble already.”

“Now ya know exactly how it feels. Don’t feel good, do it?” She looks at you, a teasing hushed into your ear. “The two of them gave me hell when they were younger. Ya don’t even know the start of it.”

“Ma,” Osamu whines again.

“Oh and this one,” she stands up to pinch his cheek to the point it looks like it hurts. Osamu squirms under her grip, the large man looking so small next to his mother. “He’s sweeter than he looks, I promise ya.” She moves to cradle his chin into the crook of her thumb, squeezing hard. “Gets a little moody sometimes and likes to curl in on himself like a fox in a dry patch of sun whenever he’s upset, but I’m telling ya, he’s a good boy.”

He reddens immediately and you can’t help but feel secondhand embarrassment for him, “Ma!”

“What?” she looks at him innocently, “ya don’t know how it broke my heart every time I heard ya dates didn’t go well. And then I find out it’s because ya late or ya wasn’t listening and I know I didn’t raise ya to be like that. I was worried ya was going to go gray in this restaurant all by yourself. Ya out here buying all these flowers but they end up on my kitchen counter instead. Of course ya had me worried.”

“Ma, no!”

“Ma, no, what?” Then she looks over to you, “you’re single too, ain’t ya?”

For all her behaved silence, Auntie finally decides to speak up. “They wish they weren’t.”

“Auntie!” It looks like you’ve joined the one worded whining.

She ignores you, looking at Osamu’s mom instead. “You should look at our karaoke history. Full of love songs.”

“That is mostly you.”

“Ya don’t have a special someone?”

Osamu’s voice makes you look up at him. Hopefulness is ladened upon his features; it makes your heart pang.

“Does my stuffed animal count?”

He smiles widely at you. It’s so stunning you feel like it’s only the two of you in the room. He looks down real quick then snaps his eyes back at you. “Ya had lunch yet?”

You shake your head, pressing your lips into your teeth to hide your joy. He takes his apron off in response, yells a quick farewell to his team. Then he grabs you plate, his other hand grabbing your arm, and ushers you out of his restaurant.

“Is this okay?” You can’t help but look back, feeling guilty. His Ma only waves you along, another knowing grin on her features as she scoots closer to your aunt.

Osamu looks at you completely chuffed. “Course it is. I’m the boss.”

Glass vases clink a chiming sound at every reverberation of your van. They’re heavy as you toss the crates in, the springs doing their best to compensate for the weight.

A bead of sweat falls down the corner of your eye, bending you forward at the minor sting. The wind picks up a cooling breeze and you know from the sound of crunching gravel, he’s arrived.

“You’re late,” you cast a teasing glare the moment you can open both eyes. The glare of the sun blinds your vision, but as he continues walking forward, he obstructs it.

Osamu shakes his head. “Think I’m right on time.” He picks up the last bouquet you hadn’t been able to sell. “These for sale?”

“50% off just for you.”

“Bless ya,” he smiles but still hands you full price, forcing the money into your grip when you try to decline. Osamu walks behind your empty table and begins swiping the foreign crumbs. You’d already taken off the tablecloth but the man brought his own. He lays out a beautiful Ghibli themed quilt he had tucked under his arm and places a picnic basket down.

“How are ya?” He continues to set the table without looking up. There’s cutlery and canned beverages and many, many tupperwares of food.

“Hungry,” you say as you pull out the second lawn chair you keep in your van now.

“Good because we’re just about to have dinner.”

He places the final touch, a vase of flowers he’d just bought right in the middle.

#reina.writeshaikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu fluff #bless me this is so long #still ill 🙂

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