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lyak12 · 2 years

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hi! great job on ur latest fic, it was so good. i have a small idea so feel free to add whatever you’d like to this. Its nat/r, concept: its that they go on a misson together and have to stay in a safehouse but it only has one bed… sorry if thats to vague but it lets you have full control and where it goes 🙏

One bed many problems

Summary: Nat and you broke up not long before and a complicated mission with just one bed caused not only a heated argument but also true feeling to be revealed.

word cound: 2115

Warnings: verbal fight, tears lots of tears, maybe angst a little? idk lmk if I need to add anything

A/N: Well... its been a while and I'm really sorry but I finally found the time to get some writing done and I'm not too mad about it actually. I hope you like what I made out of your idea. I think this is the most angst I've written so far lol I hope you enjoy reading!

You were tired.

Your head hurt.

You just wanted some peace and quiet.

Walking along a dirt path deeper into the woods you just ignored the constant comments Natasha made walking next to you. Just hoping you’d reach the safe house quickly.

Natasha and you broke up barely a month ago. One of the reasons for it being her constant flirting with Bruce which she obviously denied. You know she was not used to long term relationships but you opened yourself up to her completely and her flirting starting barely a week later hurt you more than you’d like to admit.

Nevertheless the missions had to be done and as much as you hated it Natasha was one of the best in Intel collecting. Turns out though your information about the security system where not up to date. You had to fight your way in and out and honestly everything that could go wrong went wrong.

That’s how you found yourself in the current situation. On the way to a safe house, both of you slightly beat up and Natasha blaming you for everything. You just wanted to rest for the night and go back home to continue to avoid her the best you can. You wanted to be the bigger person, you really did but she hurt you and not just a little. The worst part was you still loved her and you knew you’d always will.

“Y/N! Stop ignoring me!”, your name brought you back to reality and you couldn’t help but sigh. “I’m not ignoring you Nat”, you answered, tiredness obvious in your voice but Natasha could care less. “We both know you are! This could’ve ended a lot worse Y/N and you know that! Did you even prepare for the mission?”, she almost yelled accusingly.

There it was. The same accusing tone as in the many fights before you broke up. Where she accused you of being paranoid and not being all in in the relationship.

Taking a deep breath to stay calm you just closed your eyes for a second. You didn’t want to fight. You were way too exhausted for that but if you knew one thing about Natasha, she would push it so far until you snap. “I did. It’s not my fault our information were this old, Natasha”, you stated and pinched the bridge of your nose trying to ease the headache a little but without success.

Finally the house started to come into view and you almost believed that she was done fighting until she spat “You should’ve checked the information!”. “Oh yeah? And when was I supposed to do that? You know damn well that I just got home from the last mission. I barely had time to finish the mission report for that mission and shower”, you said as monotone as you could manage. Not willing to let her work you up but it was honestly getting harder by the minute.

Opening the door with the hidden key you both stepped inside. It was way smaller than you expected. Barely any furniture in the cold room. A small table with two chairs next to a tiny kitchen. A small two-seater in front of the fireplace with a small table next to it. A small hallway which probably lead to the bathroom and bedroom. You could feel she was about to throw something else at your head so you just made your way down the hallway in hope to stop her. Without luck.

“I don’t care Y/N! You had one job and you managed to mess that up too!”, Natasha threw at your head and that cut deep. Swallowing down the lump in your throat you open the door to bedroom. You close your eyes shortly at the sight. There was only one bed. “You must be kidding me!”, spoke Natasha from behind you. You could feel her warm breath in you neck and just took a deep breath. Walking into the room you search for an extra blanket but come up empty. Sighing defeated you said “I’ll take the couch”.

Walking past her back into the main room you can tell she wants to blame you for this situation too. Before she could say something though you said “Good night Natasha”. Quickly throwing some wood into the fireplace you start a fire in hope to keep yourself warm enough through the night to not die of hypothermia.

Kicking off your shoes you lay down on the small couch and massage the bridge of your nose again. Your head was killing you. You honestly just wanted to sleep but this whole situation was weighing hard on you. Before you could stop it tears started to roll down your cheeks. Crying quietly to hopefully lift some of the pressure off your chest you once again heard Natasha storm your way before you could get that relief.

“Y/N! We need to talk about what went wrong today”, she said as she got into the room and you couldn’t help but sigh shakily. “I’m not in the mood to talk Natasha”, you answered not opening your eyes or lift your hand from your face. Instead of receiving an answer she roughly pushed your feet from the sofa, almost causing you to fall off completely and that’s when you had enough too. You could take a lot but this was too much.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”, you yelled at her while angrily wiping the tears from your cheeks. “What’s wrong with me? Why are you being so egoistic?”, she yelled back. Her green eyes you used to love so much starring at you angrily. “I’m being egoistic? I’m sorry that I just want to have some peace and quiet after not sleeping and having you snap at me all day! Blaming me for everything! I’m sorry that I don’t want to talk after that”, you spat angrily and she rolled her eyes. “Of course I’m the bad guy now. Everything is always about you but you won’t admit it when you messed up! It’s always the same just like when you overreact and destroy everything”, she countered angrily and you knew exactly that this was not about the mission anymore.

You laugh angrily but could feel the tears threating to fall again as you said “I know everything is my fault. I overreact and mess everything up. Apparently I can’t get anything right or please you. You could never do anything wrong”. You couldn’t stop the tears anymore. You were hurting especially as Nat blamed you that your relationship didn’t work out. “Don’t act like its my fault! You pulled back! You were the one with one foot out the door. You didn’t love me anymore!”, she argued heatedly and that just made something snap in you.

“I loved you! I trusted you Natasha! I spread open my whole past to you. Told you the things that scare me the most and made myself vulnerable in front of you! Just for you to start flirting with Bruce! I felt betrayed. I felt like you used my trust. Like all of the things that come with me where too much to handle for you. Yes I pulled back because your behavior hurt me. I wasn’t with one foot out the door, you were Natasha. And as you accused me of not trusting you and called me cold, you broke me! And even after all the things you put me through, making me doubt myself, calling me insensitive in front of the rest of the team, I still love you!”, you screamed fully sobbing by now.

You could see how Natasha’s look softened. Like she finally realized the reason for you to pull back was her. She was lost for words and crying that hard in your exhausted state made it hard to keep standing so you sat down on the couch and buried your head in your hands. All of the anger that flowed through Natasha’s veins was suddenly replaced with guilt especially seeing you so broken and exhausted. She could tell you haven’t been getting much sleep lately.

Kneeling down next to you she placed a hand on your knee causing you to turn your head to look at her through your tears. “I..I-I”, she started but swallowed hard before taking a deep breath. It wasn’t like Natasha to stumble over her words, so you knew that whatever she was trying to say was something from deep within. Looking in your eyes she gently wiped your tears before she said “I still love you too”.

She could see the surprise in your face as she said that because honestly that was the last thing you expected. You wanted to say something but she stopped you. She needed to tell you this now or she never would. “As you told me about your past I was a little overwhelmed, I won’t lie. I suddenly realized that you were in this for the long run and I didn’t know what to do with that. So I did what I knew I could do best and flirt with Bruce, ignore the inner turmoil in me. It never was serious with him and even though I knew it would hurt you I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t feel like figuring out what I truly want. I saw you distancing yourself and even though I didn’t want to lose you I couldn’t bring myself to stop you. Being this mean to you was just my way of coping and I know it was wrong and I know that I hurt you but the thought of loosing you again takes away the air for me to breathe. I can’t let that happen. I know that it’s probably too late and I can understand when you don’t want anything to do with me anymore but I can’t let you go without a fight this time”, she confessed while tears started to run down her cheeks as well.

You’ve never seen Natasha this vulnerable. This truthful and unguarded. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath to sort your thoughts. Even though she admitted to realizing how she made you feel, something in you healed at her confession. Opening your eyes again you saw her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to keep herself together. Gently caressing her cheek you dried her tears, causing her to flinch slightly before relaxing into your touch. As those green eyes opened you could clearly tell that she was scared and just seeing this vulnerable side of her warmed something in you.

“I’m really sorry”, she whispered and you gave her a small smile. “Maybe there is a second chance for us, but it’ll take time”, you said with a small smile and the hope you could see in her eyes just warmed your heart. The sweet moment was interrupted as a shiver ran down your spine. During all this the fire burned out and it was starting to cool down really quick. Pressing a soft kiss to your forehead she rested her own against yours before saying “We’ll play by your rules but for tonight I won’t let you sleep here. If you’re uncomfortable sleeping with me in one bed I’ll sleep here but I don’t want you to get sick or freeze to death”. I smiled softly. She would always make sure I would be fine before caring about herself even before you came together. “You’re not staying here tonight either Nat. You’ll get sick with pneumonia. I think we’re on the same page and we have shared beds before everything too”, you said and gently caressed her cheek.

The smile spreading across her face was soft and warm. She stood up and held her hands out to you before pulling you up and gently guiding you to the small bedroom. You both freshened up before going to bed but you could feel the exhaustion deep in your bones as you made your way to bed. Nat was already laying under the covers as you laid down next to her. You know you said you would take things slow but right now you just needed the comfort she could provide. Seeing the look in your face she just opened her arms and you smiled before cuddling deep into her, laying your head on her chest. Her strong arms holding you close while wrapping you both in the blanket. Your eyes closed and you almost fell asleep immediately. The last thing you felt were her soft lips on your forehead.

Maybe a second chance was all the both of you needed.

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel fic #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natasha romanov #nat angst #marvel

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blujayonthewing · 4 months

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for that one oc ask - GHOST and DESIRE for uhhhhhhh Melliwyk! I know very little about your OCs yet so i'm tempted to just keep throwing asks at you but I don't wanna overwhelm lol

hi hello first of all please do feel free to send more... if the spirit moves you...... 👀

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

When asked about the scars up her arm, Melliwyk usually explains it very briefly as the result of a lab accident when she was still a student, laughing off almost dying and how the discharge launched her across the room, but it also launched her academic and research career. What she does not generally explain is that the other thing that happened was her then-roommate happened to walk back in unexpectedly at the exact wrong moment, got caught in the face with magically charged electrified shrapnel, and was permanently blinded... the incident may have accelerated Mel's arcane studies, but it ended Amberly's.

It set the tone for the rest of her career. Even having exploded, her experiment was highly impressive and promising, especially from someone so young and still early in her arcane studies, so it opened up a lot of opportunities for her-- and on the other hand she got a reputation for keeping an eye on the bigger picture and not letting personal risk or others' feelings get in the way of meaningful progress, a reputation she leaned into an benefited heavily from despite the fact that Amberly getting caught in the accident in their dorm wasn't even really her fault. There were lots of other times in the years following where she was more than a little flippant with risk management or others' wellbeing in the pursuit of her work. It got her a lot of professional respect, and mostly her reputation ensured others kept themselves out of risk around her; she got really used to not thinking about anybody else whenever she did anything, for better and for worse.

This was decades ago, now; for most of that time, she's consciously thought about it very little-- and definitely less and less over the years (although it subconsciously has affected her decisions sometimes, like moving out into the middle of nowhere alone to get into weirder and possibly more volatile experimentation). She's been thinking about it a lot lately, though. Adventuring is the first time in a long time she's had to live and collaborate with others, and relies on mutual trust for her own survival. Doing Hero Shit in the real world, with real people enduring real suffering, has also put her back in touch with her humanity after spending so much time in magical academia and then total isolation. She's had to think, a lot, about how many people have been hurt or killed by things like not barring the door while working on something dangerous, or thoughtlessly drawing aggro to an already injured NPC, or failing to safeguard her loved ones after knowing that her becoming an enemy of the state would put a target on their backs as well. She liked Amberly. She hadn't meant to hurt her, and hadn't even meant to be careless about her safety; it worries her how hard it seems to be for her to protect others from her own actions, even when she wants to-- how dangerous she is to the people she cares about. She's not entirely sure what she can do about it other than isolate herself again, and that isn't really an option anymore.

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

Oh man this is a really interesting question for her right now! For her entire adult life, her greatest desire was to either reinvent or rediscover artificing, which was a millennia-lost art in her world; she kind of figured, you know, either she'd do that under less fraught circumstances, or it would be a lifelong pursuit that she could work to further but would never personally live to see the end of, so, honestly she's feeling more than a little unmoored right now in terms of, you know... personal goals..... entire life's purpose...... that kind of thing. Fortunately she's still got the broader overarching desire for discovery in general to keep her going, and slightly-more-dubiously-fortunately the Ongoing Adventure demands all of her attention right now (more, I would almost argue, than she has to give...), but Being An Artificer when that was a theoretical/ experimental field has been so central to her identity for so long that I think if you asked her right now what she desires most she'd get really stressed and existential about it, lmao. She hasn't had a chance to figure it out yet! I mean, of course, there's always going to be an answer, and right now it's probably 'to destroy the sorcerer king [our bbeg]' for various plot and personal reasons-- but even that, you know, I think she'd be uncomfortable and dissatisfied with the thing she wants the most being 'to beat the bad guy' instead of something more personal and/or interesting.

ask about my OCs!!

#THANK YOU GOOD QUESTIONS!!#mel remembering that she really does care about other people has been good for her as a person but it hasn't FELT good lmao #melliwyk: [alignment shift from ch. neutral to ch. good]#melliwyk's brain: hey remember how many lives you've ruined getting where you are today. and you weren't even trying to. lol #our druid's entire home island getting firebombed traces back to melliwyk meeting him and taking him with her on her journeys #she's too sensible to Blame Herself for the actions of evil people following a chain of events she never could have predicted--#but she is. Aware. of the fact that if zhartook hadn't met her his home wouldn't have been destroyed and his people nearly wiped out #she's DEEPLY aware of xander getting hit by the retaliatory AOE spell meant for melliwyk and then dying at her feet #because she was more than capable of getting him hurt but completely unequipped to help him. of course #high level arcanist NPC who knows her by reputation: [expresses surprise at her caring or having objections--#-- to a secret construction project where citizens are being enslaved and cruelly and ruthlessly worked to death by summoned devils]#melliwyk: [desperately wracking her brain for whether she was ever really THAT heartless? surely not? surely.......]#(she was NOT ;n; but now that's A Thing she's gotta think about)#... anyway sorry this is so fucking long including the tags I am physically incapable of being succinct dfgkjhffkdgf #ask thing #my OCs #melliwyk

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alitgblog · 7 months

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"live" blogging s7, vol 1 (some analysis, some jokes lol)

first off, I totally forgot there were other casa amor girls so opening the app to see them on the banner I was like oooo

the S7 MC isn't too bad art wise, like it's definitely better than I thought with the preview, but

I do think the skinnier size MC is super skinny and the bigger one is not that much bigger, which is a little disappointing (always appreciate more size inclusion). ideally I think there would be one more size up i think but I do understand that means they'd have to fix all the clothes 3 times.

speaking of clothes they've always been bad at the beginning of the season since like s4 and this is no exception. I wish we got more options in the beginning and then the others they tack on later

the skin tones really are only three shades with each having one warmer variation, which is kind of nice to have people get that option in tone, but I do still wish there were more shades variation in between (and darker ones in general)

for absolutely no reason I have decided that my MC is also gonna be the S5 MC from my first playthrough getting a second chance after a second failed relationship with Suresh (let's just pretend she didn't win her season lol) and she's cute in this style (but again i wish we had the right skin tone for her). I guess if fusebox is backing out of bringing back Eddie then I'm bringing my MC

Her name is Junie and she's doing a lot better now mentally and has gained a little bit of healthy weight and finally loves herself now so fusebox better not make an embarrassment out of her again.

this actually works out pretty well bc usually the casa amor girls on the show arrive at the same time unless something is special about one of them who can show up separately like MC does here (ok fine I've only seen that happen in LI USA S5 and I guess s6 of the game)

Ep 1

Bonnie being an LI feels solely like penance for me thinking Iona was hot but sad she wasn't even a friend really let alone an LI in s3 so thank you but for narrative purposes I'm making Junie straight

Uma is gorgeous

also fusebox is not beating the reused assets allegations even those poses are just too eerily familiar

"I wanna try the slow burn" *has war flashbacks to the Ozzy route I never finished*

short king raf

ok Alex picking MC when Summer was flirting so hard is actually very funny to me

I understand bc it's a gem choice i didn't pick that we didn't get the last card but very funny that they were like we're just not gonna give Summer a chance at all actually

Let's goooo confirmed Joyo is Indonesian (I'm filipino so i was hoping filipino so I could draw him singing karaoke but I am here for any southeast Asian representation at all 🥳)

however I am upset with the use of "rizz" again. maybe once or twice but if they do it again I'm rioting

Alex nerding out is so cute. also who wouldn't want a bob the builder boyfriend for home improvement projects lol

am i too old to understand what normcore is?? like I barely understand e-girl aesthetic but there's more??

Bryson and his sister Jess have the most realistic sibling relationship from the last two seasons bc I also would mess with my brother's partners. and I once again am mourning the idea of a protective brother slow burn storyline in s6 instead of whatever Amelia was doing

"I won't bore you with the details" no pls do it I wanna know and I don't wanna pay the gems

all the guys have great personalities so far and idk if it's because I'm paying attention more this time or it's just better but oh no I'm falling for all of them

the drama set up with the guys and their partners is promising writing (namely the triangle with Geri, Bryson, and Joyo but maybe just because im torn between those two anyway) I'm shocked but cautious it's episode 1 lol

ep 2

early doors?

the gem party outfit is so 2013 disney channel, I actually will be taking the free outfit

wait why is it not night time for truth or dare why did they change clothes lol

joyo, get out of here with the graphic tee and blazer combo. Maybe this is why Bryson doesn't like you, and it'd be justified (tbf him being a bad dresser has been established already though)

oh God I didn't see his pants too jfc let him borrow some clothes

I'm into the frenemy relationship with Summer, like there's always a female villain in the game and they're almost always entertaining to me at the beginning (minus maybe Kat and Ivy)

I'm warming up to the all the guys like how can you pick

I'm starting to realize I personally have a problem because I always go, at least initially, for the chefs/foodies (Jake, Bobby, Camilo, Roberto) and I like Bryson rn and I think my MC would go for Bryson based on how I played her in s5 but I'm slowly inching over to Joyo and honestly i see the vision for Bobby clone I mean Raf and it is absolutely bc they've mentioned cooking

stop talking about feet pls not again

I expect this from Summer but Uma coming over to try to steal my man?? I appreciate her boldness though and at least she's not going behind anyone's back

ep 3

as someone who doesn't have the modded app and will not pay real money for gems, I feel very happy with choosing to eavesdrop on the guys' conversation. I feel like usually a lot of the gem scenes aren't worth it but this one is fun

Joyo does skincare but can't dress and Bryson is a fashion expert but makes fun of skincare. If they joined forces they'd be unstoppable, thank God they hate each other

hey what the fuck happened to cassius

so in summary im pleasantly surprised and hyped for this season at the moment. and lastly, pls don't drop the ball on stick or twist again please please pleaseeee

#litg liveblogging #sorta #litg s7 #litg stick or twist #personal

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messwriting · 3 years

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

POISON AND PLEASURE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You only have fifty thousand here."

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You, however, didn’t even flinch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See, I knew you were smart.”

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

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

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

“I’m not laundering your money.”

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

Your answering smile is sordid.

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

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

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

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

“And what if I say no?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s not stopping. Until he does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Osamu squeezes hard.

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

This.

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he’s not done yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#osamu miya smut #osamu miya #osamu miya hq #haikyuu smut #tw dubcon #thesmutpilecollab #hq fanfic #osamu miya x reader

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aslitheryprinx · 3 years

Note

i know it’s been. hours now but,, if you’re still taking the prompts? dragon, forest, hide,, mayhaps? if not,, feel free to ignore this dkdmdkdmd — 🎲

It's been a little longer than a few hours since I got this ask 😅 but yep, I'm still doing them! I've just got quite a few backed up so it's taking a bit to answer them all lol. I'll eventually get to them all, even if I work a bit slowly sometimes haha.

Good prompt! I think I might be taking it in a completely different direction than you imagined, but I hope you enjoy!

---

The forest was all Ranboo had ever known. Ever since he'd hatched from his egg- lost or maybe abandoned from the rest of the nest- and taken his first steps into the lush forest, it had been his home.

It was dangerous sometimes. There were plenty of predators that could hurt him very easily. He'd had a close call with a fox once that had him wary to get close to the large animals again.

Ranboo wondered if he'd ever get as big as a fox; or even the dreaded wolf. He'd never seen another dragon, but he had a gut instinct that they were supposed to be big and powerful. Maybe one day Ranboo would be big enough to scare the foxes away, and make the birds stop pecking at him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to imagine a future where he grew as big as he wanted. Maybe even as big as the terrifying humans outside who were making awful noise as they tore apart his forest.

He was in his den, in his human-looking form. His ears weren't as powerful like this, but even with his hands pressed against his ears, the noise was excruciating.

Somehow, the noise got even louder, and the tree around him began to vibrate. Ranboo cried out as he realized they were destroying his tree! They couldn't do that, he still lived here!

Suddenly, the noise cut off, and the silence was almost more deafening than the human machines. Ranboo heard the muffled sound of voices. He hesitated, then slipped into his dragon form again and slipped out of his den.

His stomach churned at the sight of several humans towering above him, around his tree. None of them noticed him hidden in the grass.

When he looked back at his tree, he wanted to cry. A giant gouge bigger than he was had been carved through the trunk. Even if they didn't finish the job, there was no way his tree would survive for much longer. His home was gone, or would be soon.

"I won't let you!" one of the humans said, and he glanced back up. He blinked in surprise. He'd thought all the humans were gathered around his tree, destroying it, but he'd been mistaken. One human, smaller than the others, stood in front of Ranboo's tree with his arms crossed, almost like he was protecting it.

"Kid," one of the bigger humans said, sounding exasperated. "Just let us do our job."

"No!" The human said stubbornly. "Don't you see how big this tree is? It has to be so old! You can't kill something like that!"

Ranboo looked at the small human in awe. He didn't know humans could be… well anything other than mean and terrifying. But this one, even if he didn't know about Ranboo, was protecting his tree!

There was a slight bitter twist- if only he'd done this a little sooner, maybe the tree could be saved- but Ranboo tried not to think about that.

Suddenly, a chill went down Ranboo's scales. It felt like someone was watching him. He looked up, and squeaked as he met eyes with one of the big humans. They jumped, and he scurried forward, hiding himself in the undergrowth.

"Can we hurry this up? I think I saw a snake."

Oh no, oh no, Ranboo had to run, he had to hide. He'd humans kill snakes before; they'd stomp around until they found him and crush him with their giant shoes. He scurried through the grass looking for someplace to- there!

A bag lay on the ground, a few feet away from the smaller human. It was invitingly open, and Ranboo, heart fluttering like a hummingbird, scrambled inside.

In the back of the bag, dark and safe, his pulse started to slow down. He could still the humans, but he wasn't really paying attention. They were arguing, probably about his doomed tree.

The big humans must have said something to make the small one give up, because he huffed out an angry noise, and then he was picking up the bag.

Oh, Ranboo realized as he was jostled, still inside. How was he supposed to get out without the human seeing him if the human was holding the bag?

But the bag was dark and cozy, and it muffled the noise, and he was so sleepy. Getting out was a problem for future Ranboo to deal with. His eyes slipped shut, and he dozed off in the human's bag.

-----

Ranboo had woken up in less pleasant ways than a sudden rush of bright light and a loud noise. Still, he was in an unfamiliar place upon opening his eyes, and he did not like that at all. He stumbled to his feet, tail curling anxiously around him.

"What the fuck?" A voice said from above him.

He'd forgotten about the human.

Ranboo tensed, baring his teeth. One of the human's massive hands moved towards him and he hissed, jumping back. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest. He didn't have a hope of beating this human, even if it was a smaller one, but he would fight tooth and scale for a chance to survive.

Now, Ranboo's instincts were normally faster than a human's. But the haze of sleep was still making him dizzy and confused. When a hand shot out towards him at what seemed like lightning speed, all he could do was give a poorly aimed swipe of his claws before the human had grabbed him.

The hand wrapped around him, pinning his arms and legs to his torso. His tail lashed out, but his tail was still soft and not at all dangerous. The most he was doing was annoying the human.

He opened his mouth to bite the human's thumb, but before he could, two fingers pinched his mouth shut.

"None of that now," the human said sternly, and Ranboo whimpered. He couldn't move at all, the human had him completely trapped. There was nothing he could do… except, maybe Ranboo had one last chance.

He quickly shifted into his smaller form, slipping out of the hold. He only had a brief window of opportunity before the human readjusted, and he would make it count.

He opened his mouth, and bit the human's finger as hard as he could. There was a yelp, and he was free, the human dropping him on instinct.

Ranboo instantly realized the problem with his plan as he began to plummet towards the ground. He was now in human form with no wings, falling from a large height.

I may have miscalculated, he thought frantically as he tumbled down.

He hit the floor feet first, and his legs crumpled from beneath him with a sickening crack.

#mcyt g/t #tiny!ranboo #three word prompts #giant!tubbo #aslitheryanswers #🎲

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lunaekalenda · 3 years

Note

I'm sorry for sending yet ANOTHER request, I just love your writing so much 😭

What about Soulmate AU where you can feel the pain your soulmate feels?

The reader is Zeke's soulmate even though she's from Paradis and with the Scouts, so she definitely feels the pain when Levi decapitates Zeke (he killed Zeke before the rumbling begins).

(I was thinking of this as platonic levi x reader? The Soulmate thing is with Zeke just to be more dramatic 😂)

hiii!! omg thank you so much! also your ideas are really cool, and i’m really happy to see your user on my requests!! <3 i hope you like it <3

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❁ levi x reader, zeke x female!reader (kind of ??)

❁ death, spoilers from the manga, blood, again swearing against zeke lol, canon violence, non canon events!!!! btw sasha is alive because sasha <3

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You feel small punctures on your hands. Again. It’s been a whole day feeling them, as if you are squeezing needles in your hands. It was harmful and really uncomfortable, but when you looked at your hands, they were smooth, without a cut.

“That’s because is your soulmate who’s getting hurt there.” Hange told you, once you found them out of their tent. They were holding a book, and Moblit was following them, carrying some more. Hange looks at you, their gaze low, looking directly to your hands. “Anyway, whoever your soulmate is, is probably making you regret all your training period.” You laugh. You were specially headstrong during the training. It didn’t care how many times you fell or how many wounds you got. You kept training and fighting without a break. Maybe your soulmate felt all that pain too.

In the other side of the map, Zeke Jaeger is crushing rocks with his hands. The little fragments of broken rocks make cuts on his hands. He clenches his jaw and throws them, hitting some enemies. He feels Porco’s titan fast steps behind, probably trying to break the machines. Also Pieck’s fighting near him, as usual. He feels all his body tired and the blood in his hands is starting to get dry. But he keeps fighting. Maybe that’s why destiny made him your soulmate.

Sometimes, you can’t even differentiate if you’re feeling bad or if he is the one feeling bad. Your bodies are connected in a way that even biology can’t explain. But, considering that you never met - or so do you think.- it's kind of weird. Having a soulmate wasn’t rare, half of the population has it. You’re meant to find each other and be together. You walk back to your barricade, thinking about it. Maybe he’s one of the Corps soldiers. Someone who might be very resistant to pain. Someone strong and...

“Oi, have you seen Hange?” Levi asks. He’s in front of you, and he has some books in his hands. It seems like he’s helping Hange as well. You look behind you, where Hange was a minute earlier. They're gone.

"They were here a couple of seconds aho, but I guess they moved..." You saw Levi was looking behind him, to a table full of books. You guessed that all those heavy books were the ones Levi and Hange were moving. You take some of them as well. "It's not necessary..." he says, but you're taking four books now. Walking again towards him, you look around, searching Hange and Moblit.

"Didn't they told you were they are moving the books?" Levi sighed before clicking his tongue.

"That four eyes... They didn't say anything about it because I told them to leave the war room free for new reunions, so they moved all theyr shit." he says. The books are heavy and he has been holding them for a time now, so he's kinda edgy. He walks towards a tent in the sand, near the one where the Special OPs squad sleep. Connie was out of the tent, looking at the sea. Behind him, Sasha was taking care of a bouquet of white roses.

Pain hitted you like a train, literally. Zeke's body was so tired that the train hitted his titan's legs, making him and you feel the pain. You fell, crying of the high level of dolor. Levi left the books near you, on the floor, and Sasha and Connie walked fast toward you. You were there, feeling like your legs got crushed. Levi took your boots out easily, and, looking at you for consent, raised your pants to the knee. Your legs where perfect, as always. You couldn't stop crying. Even when Levi, a total hater of affection and physical contact, started to massage them carefully. Sasha took some cold water from the sea on a jar, and put the cold metal jar on your muscles, trying to ease the pain. Connie gave you potable water.

In Marley, Zeke was also feeling a lot of pain. His legs were totally crushed and smashed because of the fucking train. He knows that his human form will repair his muscles once he's out of the titan, so that's why, searching Porco's company, he leaves the titan's body. Porco covers him while his intern muscles get easily cured. In Paradis, your legs start to feel a bit better, and you're able to feel something more than pain on them. Something like the smooth touch of the Captain. Levi keeps massaging them, doing little circles and looking at you.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks. You nod. "What happened?"

Since everybody respects someone who has a soulmate, Levi is not different to the rest. Once he knows that you have a soulmate, you'll have 0 opportunities with him. Even knowing that he probably doesn't feel the same for you, having that little unknow will play at your favor. If he does feel something, you'll just ignore all the pain your soulmate is giving you. After all, you two are people with different lives and nothing more than a stupid bond between you. You have no affection towards him because you don't know who he is, to begin with. And, also. maybe the feelings you have developed for the Captain doesn’t let you think about any other person.

At least from now.

“Yes, yes. Thanks, Captain.” he shakes his head, as if he was saying that you shouldn’t thank him.

“Your pain has been increasing lately, doesn’t it?” he asks, in a whisper. It’s normal for him to care about you, after all you’re one of his soldiers. You move your legs. They just feel heavy, but the pain has been gone. “You should rest here a bit. I’ll call Connie . He’ll make you company while the meal isn’t ready.”

Levi lefts the tent quick. You have been here stuck for months now, after you killed all the titans left in the island. You know there’s a bigger enemy than the colossus humans that killed a lot of your comrades and friends. You remember once the pain was so bad, like if someone had cut your arms and legs and then just put a thunderspear on your abdomen. And it exploded. You were conscious of every single organ of your body. You were unable to walk for a week. Your soulmate was really fast healing, so you have the belief that he is a titan. No doubt.

Ha, you’re bonded with a titan shifter. What if that one is the one that Levi promised to kill?

You shake your head when Connie enters.

“Oh, wow, you look better!” he says. You smile at him and he sits near to you. Connie is basically your best friend here, and he was always trying to make you feel better.

“Yes, I’m feeling way better.” you answer. Connie gives you a glass of water, “Thanks.”

“Your soulmate must be having fun, doesn’t he?” Connie and Hange were the only ones you told that you’ve probably a soulmate, but lately, the magnitude of the pain that man has to resist was a really obvious indicator of your bond. Probably, the Captain also knows it just because of intuition.

“He definitely is. for sure.” You say, after drinking all the glass. Connie puts it on a near table. You let out a sigh. “Y/N, listen, maybe you should tell the Captain. Like, he’s the Captain of our squad. What if your soulmate looses an arm and you fell in the middle of a battle?” But you don’t want to leave the Corps. They are your family, your most treasured ones.

“But I don’t want to leave...” you whisper. Connie sighs and looks at the front, through the window.

“You don’t have to leave. Just work here, as a healer, or...”

“I want to fight. With you all. I don’t want to make Levi lose another soldier. We’re just seven on his squad. He needs all the people capable to follow his pace.” It was true. Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Connie, Sasha and you, with Levi, are the most capable soldiers of the army. That’s why all of you are in the Special Ops squad.

Later, Jean brought you the dinner. It took you a bit to start to train again, and time passed. Eren announced the rumbling, and Levi told you all the plans for the mission.

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"Just execute the plan. We just have to stop the rumbling, even if that means killing Eren." The plan made all your comrades uncomfortable. Specially the ones that suffered with him all this time, those who saw him grow and express his ideals. That’s what you were thinking when, time later, you’re fighting hand to hand with the squad. Titans are everywhere and you only can see blood and hear screams. Jean is near Pieck and there’s a weird sensation growing up in your chest. Like if you knew what was about to happen to your soulmate. Levi was behind you. A big stalactite can be seen, at a figure seems to be on top of it. A blonde boy you met, knowing that he was a shifter. You can see him from Falco's titan's back.

Maybe he is your soulmate?

If someone kills him and your supposition is true, that means you’ll be in problems.

Levi looks at him, his gaze full of anger. He goes near him, using the ODMS and, taking out his blades, before you could react, he decapitates him.

You felt like your soul was about to leave your body, how your head hurts so much that it seems like it was about to fell off your shoulders. You can’t breath and your lungs seem to stop working. Levi comes back and found you screaming of pain.

“y/n!” he yelled. Taking you with him, he puts you again on Falco’s titan back. You search his eyes, lying down on the soft back of the titan.

“He... was m-my... soulmate.” Levi opened his eyes with horror.

“I’m so sorry, I... I didn’t know that.” he says.

“I didn’t either.” You say, but your voice was breaking because of the pain screams. You hold your head, like if you wanted to avoid it from getting parted away from your body. It hurts so much.

Levi holds your head softly. Your neck feels really bad, but it is starting to heal slowly.

“Sorry.” he whispers. “I didn’t want to hurt you in any way.” It was okay. No one knew that Zeke, the man that he promised to kill, was your soulmate. So it was not his fault. Your face is full of tears, but you show him a little smile.

“It’s okay. After all, we weren't mean to be together.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a better man.” he says, while Falco keeps flying.

I hope so, you think, while his warm hands caress your hair, trying to make all that pain disappear.

#aot fluff #aot x reader #snk fluff #snk x reader #snk fic #aot fic #aot scenario #aot fanfiction #snk headcanons #aot #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi aot #levi x you

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astarkey · 3 years

Note

I'm sending them in now, but you can save them for later too lol SethKate prompts: camera and/or bubbles! 💖💖💖

Okay, so I did like a pretty long one-shot for "camera." I couldn't think of one for "bubbles" or how to include it, but it'll probably come to me in the future, who knows lol. Sorry that it took so long for me to write it (since it was supposed to be for the July prompt, but it's still summer, so I'm not entirely too late on this ask!!!), but I hope you like it 😅 and thank you so much for sending these!!! 🤗💖💕💖

5. Camera

"So, what's this doohickey?" Kate asks while fiddling with the black gadget that's no bigger than her palm.

"That would be a Polaroid camera," Seth answers as he waltzes through the antique store to stand beside her.

"Oh, I've heard about these! I think I used it once when I was a kid, but it was so long ago that I forgot what it looked like. I wonder if there's any film left in this."

"Actually, we carry film for that camera if you're looking to purchase it," the young clerk behind the desk replies, finally turning away from the comic book his eyes were glued to.

"Oh, perfect! Yes, I am thinking of purchasing this," Kate smirks and raises her brows at Seth, and he's shaking his head. "Oh, Seth, come on! It'll be fun to use for our trip to the beach."

"Oh no, your idea of ‘fun’ will be taking a bunch of snapshots before we even make it to the beach."

Kate glares at him and says, "No, I won’t. Okay, I promise to snap only a few shots just to put your mind at ease.”

"You can do whatever you want with it, sweetheart, but you don't need my permission to buy it. If you wanna buy the camera, go ahead."

She buys the Polaroid camera, along with a pack of film, and they zip out of the small shop that sits alone on the side of the desert road, heading toward their destination. Further down the road, she takes the camera out of the flimsy plastic bag, and she thinks of testing it out. She could take photos of the few cactus or power lines Seth drives past, but it would only end up blurry on film. She pinches her lips to the side and looks at Seth, and the bright yellow Hawaiian shirt he's buttoned up in. Even though Kate bought it as a joke—since Seth's wardrobe comprises the color black—it surprises her that he's still wearing it, and hasn't taken it off yet. She switches the flash off and aims the camera at him, and he’s not budging. He doesn’t even budge when the sound of the shutter goes off.

“And so it begins,” Seth mumbles, following a heavy sigh, and Kate rolls her eyes while shaking the photo in her hand.

***

Kate sneaks in a selfie, posing for the camera while Seth is busy swimming in the vast ocean. She quickly shakes the photo, hoping Seth wouldn’t notice when he comes out of the water; and after the photo is in full color, she tosses it in her beach bag—with the rest of her pile of photos she took behind Seth's back when they were on the road—and hides the camera in the bag just in time as he’s walking back to their spot, wiping the saltwater away from his eyes.

“Did you have a good swim?” Kate asks, looking up from the magazine she pretends to read. She glances at Seth laying next to her under the shade of his umbrella, not bothering to dry himself off as he lets the water beads glisten on his legs.

"It was just what I needed. Surprised you didn't stay out there long, since this was your idea."

"I just wanted a quick break."

"To do what? Read this?" He snatches the magazine from her lap and reads the page out loud. "'Twenty-five steamy ideas to do with a naked man?' Well, getting naked with me, that's already happened. 'Take a shower together,' been there, done that. The hands-off policy sounds like a challenge." His eyes grow bigger as he looks closer at the page. "'Ask him to do yoga?'"

Kate quickly snatches the magazine back and slaps his leg with it while she says, "I was not reading that!"

"But it wouldn't hurt to look; those looked like some great ideas, babe. Not sure about the yoga bit, but if you want me to do that for you I can start practicing." Kate grimaces at the idea and he asks, "What's wrong? Don't feel like getting a little creative in our relationship?" She looks at him as he waits for her to answer, flashing his thick eyebrows and smirking at her; but she knows his games and does not want to feed into his amusement.

"I think we're creative enough." After flipping a couple pages, she closes the magazine. "Besides, I didn't see you staying in the water long enough, either."

"I wanted a break."

"Yeah? And to do what, exactly?"

"See if you're okay."

It has been six months since Amaru's defeat, and six months of healing for Kate. It's been a slow and steady process and she still has a long way to go, but at least she's not alone in the fight with Seth promising to help her as much as he can; both taking each day one step at a time. And even as she finds it a little annoying for Seth to keep checking up on her practically every day, she loves him for it.

"I'm okay," she answers.

"Yeah?" he says, and she reassures him. "Shocked that you didn't bring your camera out here. Could've gotten a nice shot of this view."

"No. I promised I wouldn't take a bunch of pictures and I'm not gonna break that promise."

The corners of his mouth curl up as he laughs to himself. He looks at her once again. His eyes wander around her face down to her body that's covered in a turquoise-colored two-piece bikini; his view isn't of the ocean right now, it's of her. He tugs at the yellow towel she's sitting on, pulling her so close to him she's underneath his umbrella now. Already taking the hint, she pecks him on the lips and holds the back of his head as he kisses her back. In the middle of their embrace, as they’re lip-locking each other, Kate frees her right hand and roams around the sand, searching for her bag. Feeling the bag behind her and feeling the camera inside, she pulls it out, and with one eye open, tries to get it at a good angle where both of them can be in the photo. Now, with both of her eyes closed and feeling the weight of Seth pressing against her stomach as he moves on top of her, she presses the button and the sound of the shutter goes off, and he stops moving altogether and breaks the kiss.

"Really?" he asks rhetorically.

"You know, this could really be useful in spicing up our relationship," Kate comments, taking the photo with her as she stands up to leave him by his lonesome, "As a matter of fact, this photo is so cute, I think I'll keep it and put it in a scrapbook to show to our kids in the future."

"Seriously, hand it here."

"Nope!"

"Look, don't make me chase after you."

"I guess you're just going to have to chase me for it, then." Kate dangles the picture above her head, grinning, and Seth gets up and starts running.

Kate runs across the beach, the sand sticking between her toes as she picks up speed, but she yelps when she feels Seth seize her from behind, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her up. She yells as he swings her around the shore, and she laughs as if she hasn't in years. After the spin, he lands on top of her, smiling as he gazes into her eyes.

"What?" she asks while stroking her finger along the side of his face.

"What you said before, about how that girl you once were was long gone. I don't think that's entirely true."

"What made you think that?"

"Because I'm looking at her right now."

Her eyes begin to well up and she tries to fight back the tears, but Seth dries them before they have a chance to spill. He lowers himself down to kiss her, and they hold each other as the ocean waves collide against their bodies. They're left standing, and the photo Kate accidentally dropped—when Seth tackled her—sweeps away, drifting off to sea.

#yossariandawn #questions and mentions #sethkate #fdtd #it's been a while but I finally finished it this morning #I wasn't in the right headspace for a couple of weeks to write it #so it's probably why it looks so bad lol #but when I thought about seth saying that last line I almost cried and added it in there #these two make me so emotional lmfao #the yellow hawaiian shirt makes an appearance #and there's no way kate wouldn't take a photo of him wearing it #and keep it as evidence to show to richie when they get back from their trip lol

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attack-on-kiwi · 3 years

Note

Are you still doing the fluff alphabet? If so, would you be willing to do it for Bertl? I'm not sure if you write for him, it's okay if you don't.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Bertholdt is indifferent to what the two do. Most activities that his s/o points out are okay in his book, though he isn’t a fan of anything that forces him to stand out too much. As long as he’s spending time with them or watching out for them, he’s happy to do anything. That said, he does have a particular fondness for hiking or fishing. Both activities are peaceful and let the two enjoy mild physical activity while basking in one another’s company. There’s no stress to speak as they can just focus on their tasks at hand.

Cuddling is nice once he’s over his nervous disposition. If his s/o doesn’t mind his clammy hands and overwhelming warmth, he likes to have them secured in his arms, playing with their fingers for countless moments. Perhaps the stilling of time is why he is drawn to such an innocent passtime.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Bertholdt is drawn in by their smile. He doesn’t deserve such kindness- definitely not from someone as beautiful and admirable as themselves.It’s no stretch to say that Bertholdt’s idea of his s/o is quite inflated by how he imagines them to be an all superior and perfect individual. He’s too overcome by feelings of insecurity and stress that he’s latched onto their kindness. That smile draws him in and promises a moment of respite in this unnerving hell of an existence he bears.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He tries to ground them. He will not take any unnecessary touching in the case that they do not respond well. He’ll instead look to calm them by speaking in a level tone and guiding them through their episodes. He hates seeing them upset or panicking, and he would rather not set them off even more. Bertholdt will assess the situation as best he can, but don’t expect a passionate embrace or overly comforting words. He will just remind them that they are here and he is here. The two can sort out the issue if need be and go from there. If the situation calls for it or if his s/o approaches him for physical comfort, he has no problem embracing them for several minutes, quietly letting them seek whatever it is that is going to help them come down.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Bertholdt is too nervous and aware of his fate to give much thought to a future with his s/o. Ideally, he would like to have weekend breakfast with them and his father before taking a light stroll to a park that’s filled with happy children. He wants to take them out for sweets and to walk fearlessly hand in hand. Nothing too extraordinary. A secure life where they can live comfortably with their loved ones and enjoy their mundane lives would be ideal.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Bertholdt isn’t entirely submissive, but he does prefer his s/o to take charge. He’s a bit of a pleaser when it comes to the relationship, so he’s willing to do most things his s/o wants.

However he does have limits to his patience and if he wants something done, he’s not afraid to mention it. He’s not a shy and nervous wreck all the time, after all. If his s/o and he have been together for a while, he is much more comfortable speaking out and suggesting they try something new. It takes a lot of patience from his s/o, and most of his demands are too subtle to even give a second thought.

If Bertholdt feels like something is not going how it should, he’s quite skilled in putting a stop to it.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Getting Bertholdt angry is hard enough in the first place. His s/o either put their life in extreme danger or crossed a boundary with hi,. Bertholdt will not stand for it and will have to take time for himself. During this period of tension, he’s prone to guilt tripping and manipulating his s/o into feeling awful about the fight. Whether they played a large role or not, Berhtoldt feels the need to really emphasize that they can’t be hurting him because all he does is to ensure the two can be happy.

He doesn’t mean to be so erratic when he’s angry, but he rarely experiences anger, and being hurt by someone he finally let in scares him to no end. It’s no excuse for his irrational (at times) behavior, but it’s important for the two to have patience with one another.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Once he gets past the initial guilt of being in a relationship when he’s got the mission he has, he does feel something akin to gratefulness. If anything, he just feels immense selfishness for getting involved with someone. His mind is constantly in overdrive and is unable to rest for a moment enough to really see just what his s/o puts up with for him.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

His entire identity is a secret. Regardless of whether his s/o is from Marley or Paradis, he keeps his true self under wraps. Bertholdt is conditioned first and foremost to put his own freedom and wishes first. That means that his mission comes first, and unless he has known his s/o for years or feels extremely strong about them, he will never share anything remotely incriminating. Even if he does feel comfortable enough to share, information will be scarce and seemingly irrelevant to the bigger picture. He can’t help this tendency. He has had to be careful of every word that comes out of his mouth as it could mean life or death, and he’s not willing to risk more than necessary as he feels he’s already pushing it too far.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

The fact that he was even open to having an s/o shows that they’ve brought down the many walls (lol) he’s put up around his heart. Bertholdt’s defense mechanism is to hide and to put up a front, so when someone is able to give him enough confidence that he’s willing to love them even remotely, they can say they’ve impacted him in a way most others never have.

Bertholdt is someone who will usually partake in activities if asked, so there’s not much on the path of trying new things, but trying them with his s/o definitely feels more fulfilling to him. Even if it’s just an evening hike or going to a market when allowed, Bertholdt feels more vulnerable. His s/o is usually unaware of this until he is caught smiling at them shyly, a glimmer of his true feelings dancing across his expression.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Yes and no.

Bertholdt will get jealous if someone is getting too friendly and touchy with his s/o, but it takes a lot for him to step in. In fact, it’s the rarest sight to catch him towering above someone, using a steel glare and his notable height to intimidate whoever is making heart eyes and assorted moves at his s/o.

Though he is prone to jealousy due to fear of his s/o leaving him or finding out they don’t want to be with him, he is still most likely not going to step in. Bertholdt has resigned himself to the idea that he is not worthy of a long term partner and to always be prepared in the event that his s/o will leave him. When in private, he might try to guilt his s/o by saying they made him feel jealous because of how close that person was getting to them, but most times he will just hide in their neck and huff when prodded with questions.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Bertholdt never kisses anyone long enough for there to be a cohesive report on the topic. His kisses range from split second pecks to softer slightly dragged out kisses. There’s never anything fancy going on.

He likes it when his s/o has to work to get to his lips, be it they are too short or too tall to comfortably reach him. He thinks it’s endearing that they would want to kiss him even tho it can be an inconvenience to get to his lips.

Kiss his neck and he will pass out from the blood running to his cheeks. Oh, yeah. He’s a huge blusher when it comes to kisses.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It’s likely Bertholdt never utters the words until his last moments. He doesn’t have the luxury of expressing his true feelings. Whether or now his s/o is by him during those moments, their face flashes in his mind and while he’s wailing for someone to help him, he’ll think to himself, “I didn’t even say it! I didn’t even get to say it!” And then you guys know how the rest goes.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Bertholdt wants to get married. The idea of sharing his life with someone who is his better half warms his heart. If he were to propose, he’d like to do it on an evening where he and his s/o have just had dinner and are floating on a little boat through the waterways. He’d have a whole speech planned out, but the anxiety of asking would eat away at him and he rushes into the stuttering question. When his s/o says yes, he’d be too terrified of picking up the ring since he’s sweating so much, so he’d ask them to take no offense and put the ring on himself. He doesn’t want it to slip and fall into the water.

Marriage with Bertholdt is traditional. He’d like his s/o to live a carefree and comfortable life, so he’d prefer to be the one working while they stayed home or took part in whatever they aspired to. He could see his s/o opening up a bakery. They would have two pets, a dog and a cat, or maybe just two dogs that roam around bringing comfort and joy to their early morning patrons.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

He sticks with calling them their name or a short variation of it.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

When you strip away the nervousness he is inevitably feeling, Bertholdt is as sweet as one would think plus some more. He has a difficult time verbalizing just how he’s feeling, so he takes to making sure his s/o doesn’t need to deal with more than they have to.

This means Bertholdt will pick up chores or errands they haven’t had time to do or he’ll patch up their clothes. He makes sure that they don’t come back to more work. If they need to be held, he’s there for them. All they have to do is initiate it- that’s all he asks. He’s good at comforting them. He’s warm and large enough to fully embrace most people. He never feels like he’s doing enough or if he’s doing what he should be, but he means well.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Most people will never know Bertholdt and his s/o are an item unless his s/o is upfront. He’s not going to actively hold their hand or kiss them in front of anyone, but he won’t push them away if they want to cling to his arm. Having Reiner as a friend helps- the guy is more than happy to tell people to piss off when they try flirting with you or Bertholdt and if Bertholdt is okay with it, he’ll even tell others so they are in the know.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He’s smart and picks up on cooking easily. If his s/o wants a certain food, it only takes him a few moments of studying a recipe to get it correctly. The food always turns out delicious- better than the recipe itself, some would say. He uses this to his advantage when his s/o is particularly upset with him. It’s hard for him to really put into words how sorry he is, so he hopes the food is a good segway into the conversation.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He tries to be a classic romantic, but it’s hard when you have a whole can of worms eating the back of your mind at all times.

Bertholdt likes bringing them flowers when he can, and if that’s impossible, he will try to get his hands on some dried/pressed ones and see if he can encase them in resin and accessorize the items. He likes giving them gifts that last long, so they have a small collection of trinkets from him.

He is always there to lend them an ear. Even though he can’t talk much about his own problems, he is more than happy to help them sort out their feelings. Even if he could speak to them about his problems, he would rather focus on them. In a relationship, he’s overwhelmingly giving so long as his s/o stays by him no matter what it takes.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

If he has any reservations, he will let them be known, but once he is convinced his s/o is not just saying something but willing to see it through, they have his whole support. He will be willing to go through great length to help them succeed.

However, if their aspirations interfere with his own goals, he will try to subtly sabotage them or try to convince them to focus on something else. This will cause a huge rift in the relationship

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Bertholdt is content as everything is. He’s fine with having an s/o and living the same day with them. It’s peaceful when it can be, and he’d rather not risk all of that for something that may not be worth it. If his s/o wants to try something out, he will follow along but will step in if he feels they might get hurt or get the two of them in danger.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Bertholdt knows his partner inside and out. The way he knows every detail about them is pretty relative to how little they know about him. As a way to make up for not being completely honest with them, he does his best to get to know them and everything about them so that he can accommodate them reasonably. He doesn’t feel too bad about this either. He’s more comfortable giving, so he enjoys seeing his s/o light up when he remembers a tiny detail about them.

Though Bertholdt is knowledgeable about his partner, he is not the poster boy for empathy. Most of their concerns feel minor compared to the larger pictures, so he has a difficult time finding the mental capacity to even care. This surfaces in how he will tell them to be logical or offer them more realistic advice on their concerns.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

His relationship is not the most important thing to him. Though it is true that he values his partner immensely, he is sadly anchored to the fact that his mission comes first and that his selfish desires of wanting solace for his loved ones will have to be but a byproduct of a successful mission. No matter what, his life and his future are going to be most impacted by said mission, so once everything is dealt with, he will prioritize everyone else.

That being said, just because his mission comes first does not mean that Bertholdt is immune to slip ups regarding his personal life. There are times when the stress and fear of losing his s/o will push him to do something ill advised so that he can secure their safety. If they ended up dying as a result of his mission and actions, he’d never recover.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

If his s/o starts complimenting him between their sweet little kisses, then Bertholdt will begin blushing and trying to escape. He doesn’t straight up run away, but he’ll cover his face with his hands as his cheeks heat up. If they ask him what he’s doing or coo to him he’ll try to choke out a flustered “I’m fine” while clearly not being fine. His s/o has the power to make him weak in the knees and must learn to utilize said power to the fullest.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Bertholdt isn’t going to initiate any form of intimacy, but once his s/o has him in their arms, he’s actually a cuddle bug. His favorite is to quietly hug them and rest his face in their neck. Sometimes he’ll kiss them wherever he can. The feeling of their hands dragging over his back and their nails scratching his scalp helps him forget that the world is terrifying just for a moment. If he falls asleep on them, it’s said that he can go the whole night without fumbling or kicking anyone.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He’s good at putting those thoughts in the back of his mind. He doesn’t really give into missing them as often as he could, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss them. When he has a chance to breather, he’ll offhandedly wonder if they miss him too.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Unless he’s decided they are important enough for him, he won’t go out of his way to put his life on the line or anything. As I’ve previously mentioned, Bertholdt’s way of prioritizing his relationship is by prioritizing his mission.

#bertholdt hoover #bertholdt hoover x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan headcanons #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan x reader #fluff alphabet #snk #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin headcanons #shingeki no kyojin imagines #shingeki no kyoujin x reader

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euphoricdumpsterfire · 3 years

Text

It Was Enchanting To Meet You (Edmund Pevensie x Mutant! Fem Reader)

Chapter VI: Winter Strikes

Summary: Agatha Harkness reveals more about Y/N's past, and snow starts falling in the middle of summer which brings a huge concern for the Narnians.

Masterlist

Word Count: 1323

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any real warnings except for maybe an animal turning into an inanimate object. However if I’m forgetting anything, feel free to let me know.

A/N: I’m sorry I couldn’t upload last week, I had a bunch of school work to do and I still do lol. This will be the only chapter for this week, and the next one will be uploaded next week. Enjoy! :)

"Wha- How?!"

"I'll explain everything once you and your prince charming come in." Agatha said, moving out of the doorway to make room.

"It's king." Edmund said,

"I'm sorry?" Agatha raised an eyebrow,

"I'm not a prince. I'm a king." He replied,

Agatha cackled once more, "My apologies... Your highness. But please do come in, I have a lot of explaining to do." She said. Edmund turned his head to look at Y/N, she nods as a go sign and the both of them went inside.

The cottage was dark, the purple wallpaper was worn out and pieces of it were sticking out. Then there was a small table with a purple tablecloth over it and what sat on top was a crystal ball. “So how exactly do you know me?” Y/N asked,

“Well," Agatha grabbed two teacups and poured hot tea, "I had always looked after you ever since you were a young child. I even had to pretend to be a babysitter so I can watch you up close until you were three years old!" She chuckled as she served the tea to Y/N and Edmund.

“Then how come I don’t remember you?” Y/N asked, not accepting the tea,

“Your parents grew suspicious of me so I had to do a little spell to make them forget everything, including you. Now drink up, you two must’ve been exhausted fighting off those mermaids.” Agatha gestured her hand towards the tea, Edmund hesitantly took a sip however Y/N still refused and continued to ask her more questions.

“Why did you do all of that in the first place?” She asked. Agatha sighed and sat down on a purple velvet chair that matched her dress.

“Aslan isn’t the only one who knows all of the prophecies.” She said, she flicked her wrist and a purple light lingered across the room and summoned a book.

“How’d you know about Aslan?” Edmund asked,

“I know every single magical person across the multiverse. Thanks to this book.” Agatha replied and pointed at the book that seemed to glow with orange light. “This…” She paused to open up the book, “Is the Darkhold. It contains every spell, charm, and prophecy beyond every normal witch or wizard’s knowledge.” She explained as she flipped through the pages. “One prophecy stated that a young witch capable of great power will travel across different worlds to take down an evil witch.”

“The White Witch..” Y/N muttered, her eyebrows furrowed and looked back at Agatha, “Great power sounds like it’s over exaggerated.” She said,

“Oh, but it’s not,” Agatha stood up and walked towards Y/N, “You are a nexus being Y/N.”

"What's that?" Y/N asked

"A being capable of seeing and traveling into other realities. Each world has their own nexus being, and if there's two in one world," Agatha scoffed, "Well that's a problem."

"Then who's the nexus being in our world?" Edmund asked,

"Look at you prince charming! Asking the right questions,"

"It's king." Edmund repeated, but Agatha simply rolled her eyes.

"As I was about to explain... Jadis or the White Witch is the nexus being of this world,and the moment she rises again she’ll come back stronger than ever so you must prepare.” Agatha warned,

“But how? I literally don’t know magic or spells! I just know how to move things with my mind and attack without touching a person!” Y/N exclaimed, now realizing how much bigger this prophecy was.

“That’s why I’m here dear!” Agatha said as she tucked a loose hair behind Y/N’s ear, “I’m here to help you hone this great power you’re destined to have.” She smiled, Y/N smiled back now convinced that Agatha seemed to have good intentions. The moment was interrupted by a gust of cold wind that came from the window. Edmund stood up and went to the window as he stuck his hand out, snow fell to his fingertips and his face shriveled in worry.

He looked up at the two ladies and said, “It’s snowing…”

“Wait, I thought it was currently summer?” Y/N questioned, Agatha’s face was now covered in fear.

“She’s almost here.” Agatha said.

Y/N’s eyes widened, Agatha’s statement shook her to the core. The White Witch was coming, and soon enough, she’ll have to face her biggest nightmare.

“We need to go back to the castle and inform everyone.” Edmund said, Y/N stood up and was ready to leave.

“Agatha you should come with us.” She said, Agatha slightly shook her head,

“I can’t. The White Witch must not find out about me.” She answered,

“But I thought you’re supposed to help me? She could be looking for me now and I’m still not prepared!” Y/N’s voice was shaking in fear, she wished this was only a dream, another terrible nightmare.

“I might not be physically with you to help but,” Agatha grabbed a book from the bookshelf and handed it to her, “This grimoire will help you learn everything that you need to learn.” Y/N ran her fingers across the cover and looked back up to Agatha,

“Will I ever see you again?” She asked,

“Only time will tell, now go.” Agatha said. Edmund and Y/N made their way out of the cottage, but before she could leave, Y/N looked back and mouthed ‘thank you’. The two of them ran quickly to find their horses and rode back to the castle as Agatha’s cottage slowly faded away into purple dust.

Once they had arrived at the castle, the two ran to the throne room and saw Susan having a conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Beaver.

“Ed, Y/N, any news about the cottage?” She asked,

“Forget the cottage, it started snowing.” Edmund replied, still panting and trying to catch his breath. Susan stood up, confused with what her brother had said, she looked at Y/N.

“It’s true, she’s coming.” Y/N said. Mr. and Mrs. Beaver gasped, seconds later Mrs. Beaver fainted due to shock and fear. Susan immediately ordered someone to aid Mrs. Beaver, and asked another guard to spread an announcement for the people of Narnia.

“Tell the people to stock up on food and resources, after that, tell them to not get out of their homes until the winter is gone for good.” The guard immediately did Susan’s orders while Lucy eventually caught up with everything that had happened so far.

“We should all rest right now, tomorrow we start preparing.” Susan said and everyone went to their own chambers to get rest.

Later that night, Y/N sat on her bed flipping through the grimoire and practicing spells. While she was reading, a ladybug crawling on the canopy curtain caught her eye. She looked back on the page and then back again at the ladybug that was now staying still. With a twirl of her fingers, blue light swirled around the air as it approached the ladybug. Suddenly, it turned into a red feather, with black spots resembling the ladybug. Y/N let it fall to the ground as she continued to learn more spells.

Time passed by, and Y/N’s eyes felt heavier and heavier. She yawned and read through one more paragraph before she closed the book and wrapped herself up in her blanket and closed her eyes. She then heard a faint voice humming the lullaby that she always sung, a smile formed on her lips knowing who it was and eventually fell into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile, deep into the forest, everything was already covered in snow. A mist of cold air danced into the night sky and formed a large castle made of ice. Inside, by the throne made of ice, there stood a woman dressed in white fur and flurries of snow formed into a crown on her head. The white witch was finally back.

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neo-culture-mafia · 4 years

Text

My Peace (w.ykh)

the cutest boy ever

— Warnings: Bruises

— Genres: Fluffy, warm and overall adorable uwu.

— Words: 1.6k

— Summary: “He used to think he didn't deserve to be loved, and that the life he had was too dangerous for him to ever let anyone in. But you worked your way through his heart and proved him wrong, right when he thought he could never enjoy being wrong before.”

— Requested by @min-inu “I'm new to this blog (I love it) and I'm a huge fluff enthusiast 🥺 Can I request something with Lucas (+ female reader? I don't know if I have to specify) where he comes home from work late at night and he's stressed because a deal went wrong (or something else) but as soon as he sees the reader who is barely awake and waiting for him he feels calmer and she does things to cheer him up (lots of cuddles and kisses, maybe a cute date too). Also can I request more than once if it's not a problem?”

— A/N: I absolutely loved your request 🥺 I was craving for some Yukhei's content and didn’t even know it lol And please, feel free to send in more requests, okay? I hope you enjoy this!!

To say he was pissed was an understatement. When Lucas came back to the base and Kun put his eyes on him, he already knew Yukhei was about to explode. After he got in Neo Culture, Yukhei learned how to control his anger issue, but he still had problems with coping with failure.

“Can I give my reports to you tomorrow?” Yukhei asked, staring right at the floor, too afraid that he would explode at himself if he looked at his leader's disappointed expression. If only he knew Kun was way more worried than disappointed.

“You don't have to do this, you know?” Kun turned his chair so he would be staring at the window instead of Yukhei's face. “Avoid looking at me. Feeling shame at yourself. We'll manage to close that deal.”

“They attacked us. I don't think there's a deal to be considered anymore.” Yukhei murmured, closing his eyes and trying the hardest that he could to not start punching and kicking stuff around him. Neo Culture was the family he had never had. The feeling that he somehow had failed the only people who welcomed him do their own home was barely unbearable.

“We're all alive, aren't we?” Kun questioned, slightly turning his face to the side so he could look at the younger one behind him. Yukhei was still afraid to look at his leader, but as he managed to shily give him some attention, he was met with a warm smile coming from the older one. “Then, we'll figure out something. As long as we're together, we can achieve whatever we put our focus to.” He turned his chair back to its initial position, forcing Yukhei to stare at the floor again as he checked his wristwatch.“It's late. Don't worry about your reports, we can do this tomorrow. Go be with Y/N. She is in your dormitory.”

For the first time since he had entered the room, Yukhei face seemed to be no longer twisted by anger anymore, thanks to the mention of your name.

“She's here? I thought she was at home.” He looked right at Kun's eyes, making the leader's smile go even bigger from before. Young love was really adorable. “Yeah, she said something about not wanting to leave you alone after a tiring mission,” Kun added, grabbing a few papers and starting to go over them. He only looked at Yukhei again when he realized the young man was still sitting on his office’s chair. “... why are you not running there yet? Go! You're dismissed!” he exclaimed, pointing at the door and proceeding to laugh at the sight of Lucas running out of his office.

If before Lucas' heart was beating fast from anger, now his heart was beating fast at the thought of seeing you. Besides Neo Culture, the only person who allowed him to be himself with no judgments at sight was you. You had nothing to do with his lifestyle. You weren’t part of the mafia, and God forbids if you ever demonstrated any interest in the business. Yukhei's mind wouldn’t even know how to proceed with the constant feeling that he could lose you at any second.

The only thing that kept him from exploding when he was in the field was the thought of being in your arms again. He needed to come back and see that beautiful smile of yours one more time. And that’s the first thing his eyes started to look for after he had opened the door.

You were close to his desk, apparently taking some food out of plastic bags, and even if he was indeed almost dying from starving, his first impulse was to run and hug you from behind. Your perfume turning to be the only thing he could smell, blocking all of his senses from anything else that wasn't related to you. He could tell you were tired since your whole body almost jumped when he suddenly hugged you.

“You’re back!” You exclaimed with a smile on your face as you felt your boyfriend's face resting on your shoulder. He had his eyes closed and some bruises on his cheek, but he looked pretty much alive to you, and that was all that mattered. “Uh oh. We should take care of those. Sit on the bed, I prepared everything. Including food, but since I didn’t know if you preferred Mexican, Korean, or Japanese, I ordered them all.” You started to blab, hoping to get a smile from your playful boyfriend, but as he just stayed still, you began to worry. “Baby? What is it? Is everyone okay?” You asked, turning around to face him properly, being careful when touching his body.

As he opened his eyes to look at you, any words he could possibly say just disappeared at the sight of you. Your messy hair confirmed his suspicions that you had probably dozed off at some point of the night. Your swollen eyes tipped off that at some point you thought he wasn't coming back and then proceeded to cry. Your worried gaze confirmed how relieved you were for seeing him only with a few bruises. Your lips saying that you loved him made his smile finally appear as he realized how much he loved you. And he hated the thought that Neo Culture wasn't the only one who he failed tonight. He failed the person he loved the most in the entire world when he didn't show you how grateful he was for still being alive. For being by your side. His favorite and most loved place to be.

You were his personal place of peace. And you needed to know it.

“I love you. Oh God, I love you so much. I never thought I would love someone as much as I love you.” He pushed you a little so he could start pecking all over your face, making both of you giggle at his action. “You kind of scared me for a second.” You pushed him a little and smiled at how bright his face now looked. “There is nothing to worry about. Not when I’m with you.” He replied to you with the words he was actually saying to himself.

The world outside could wait. All the violence, gunshots, and uncertainty could wait. Now, he was with his personal gift from heaven. The one capable of bringing the best out of him. His one and only. His Everything.

“Look, I do appreciate all the kisses and stuff but I won't stop bothering you until you let me take care of your bruises.” You pecked his lips and then started to walk backward, holding both of your boyfriend's big hands, seeing the biggest smile appear to his face. “Okay doc, treat me.”

In a matter of seconds, you were sitting on your bed, having Lucas’ head laying on your lap as you cleaned his cheek bruises with a cotton pad. He had his eyes closed so he could just enjoy your touch, and as much as you loved seeing him relax, which rarely happened, you wanted to fill him in on what you did during the days he spent on mission. Especially when you knew he didn’t like to talk about the missions when he was tired.

"So, I met Mark's girlfriend." You started, causing Yukhei to look at you with a puzzled expression on his face. "Mark's girlfriend? What was she doing here?" "She came here to get a few papers. Something about her and Mark going on a vacation." You shrugged, gently closing Yukhei's eyes with your fingertips so you could clean the bruises on his eyelid. "We went out for a meal together. She reminds me so much of Mark, it's almost like they're the same person. No wonder she's dating him for four years, they really complement each other well."

"They really do. I'm still waiting for the wedding invitation of those two." Yukhei commented, making you laugh at the situation your newest friend had told you. "Oh, you're gonna have to wait a little more then. Mark almost freaked out some days ago thinking that she wanted him to propose when she actually wanted to adopt a dog together!" Yukhei couldn't help but laugh at how Mark that sounded like. "That sounds like something Mark would do, for sure."

"I know, right? He almost freaked her out too, she thought he wanted to break up or something." You added, putting two stitches on your boyfriend's worst bruises and letting your hand go and play with his messy silver hair. "I'm done. Now, we should get some food in that belly of yours."

"What? No, right when it's starting to get good!" he whined, pouting like the big baby you knew he was. "You can take a shower first if you like, but if I know you enough, you're starving,” You pointed at the small desk full of delicious smelling food. "and that’s why I got your favorites. The burrito is smelling especially nice tonight." "You're unbelievably perfect, and that was the lowest punch ever, but I still love you anyway.” He stated, giving you a quick peck before getting up from the bed and running towards the desk.

...

"So, now that I'm no longer starving and smelling nice thanks to that cologne you gave, what do you say about..." Yukhei stopped himself from talking and drying his hair with a towel when he noticed your sleeping figure evolved in a warm blanket.

I knew you were tired. Yukhei smiled at the view, silently giggling at his own thoughts. There weren't enough words to describe how much he appreciated all the effort you did to make him feel comfortable after missions. He knew you abdicated a lot from your life for the two of you to be together, things you thought you couldn't live without, like your freedom to walk around with no bodyguards. And even though he tried to push you away to stop you from getting too close to him, you two just couldn't be apart. You consciously chose to be with him, and he loved you so damn much for that.

As he laid down next to you, slightly pulling you closer, and placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he voiced out the words with the most affection he had ever put into words before:

"You are my peace, baby. I will always come back to you, no matter what happens.”

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threeletterslife · 4 years

Note

hi! I'm a small writer on wattpad and I was just wondering if you had any useful writing tips for me and other writers? I love your works and I would really love to know how you write so well! ♡

hello!!

i’d love to give writing tips! thank you so much for your kind words! but i’d say most of my writing skills come from trial and error and experience LOL but here’s what i really have to say:

GRAMMAR

i’m a huge grammar freak when it comes to writing and nothing’s a bigger turn off than reading a supposed emotional scene and spotting a huge ass grammar error lol

i’d suggest (if you aren’t already familiar with grammar) to study up on it

OR you can use sites such as grammarly and hemingway to catch mistakes for you (but they’re not always 100% accurate)

i feel like grammar is over-looked a lot in writing or maybe i’m just sensitive

even the simple wrong usage of the em dash triggers me these days lol (remember, it’s not ‘--’ it’s ‘—’ THERE’S A DIFFERENCE)

immaculate grammar means there’s one less thing that you have to worry about when putting your thoughts on-screen (or paper)

i studied grammar by buying an ACT test prep book LOL but you can probably learn it for free online

INSPIRATION

i think inspiration is really, REALLY important when it comes to writing

it’s always a struggle to come up with an original idea and to flesh it out is even harder at times

world-building is particularly a challenge (especially if that world is set in a futuristic dystopian world)

so i suggest you take time to get inspired (listen to music, get some fresh air, spend time with your loved ones, watch a movie, read a book etc)

writing always comes easier when you feel like doing it

once inspiration hits, don’t hesitate, DON’T DOUBT YOURSELF, just write

write first, edit later (that’s the #1 rule tbh)

gaining confidence through your inspiration is just as important as your writing itself

the writer is only as good as she thinks she is

if you get an idea, DO NOT WAIT TO FIND A NOTEBOOK TO WRITE IT DOWN. 85% of the time, you’ll forget the idea and that is the WORST MF feeling in the world. so please, write it on your phone, piece of scratch paper, on your hand—literally anything

CHARACTERS

my FAVORITE part!! i absolutely love coming up with characters

my biggest rule of thumb is to make a character that would actually fucking exist in the world LOL

well, i guess it depends on the plot or your story, but most times, your story will work better when the characters are realistic

remember, people want to connect to your characters (why else would they want to read about them??)

your characters should be balanced. there is no such thing as a perfect person. (also no such thing as an evil person,,, unless they’re psychologically damaged.) good traits come with bad traits. in fact, their good traits may even BE their bad traits!!

i.e. diligence. let’s say your character is diligent. it’s a good thing, perhaps. they may have a stable job and high income because they work very hard. but, in the end, their diligence turns them into a workaholic and that may cause problems with their relationships with loved ones

i always tell people who are starting off as writers to try to base characters off of the people around them (without making it insanely obvious, of course)—it’s more like picking and choosing traits from a personality pool LOL

if you’re writing romance, the character chemistry should be the plot of the story, which means you’ll have to make sure their personalities don’t exactly clash too much

here’s a character template i made that you can use (i actually use this character template for EVERY story)

PLOT

if you’re starting off as a writer, i can’t emphasize enough how important it is to PLOT

your story will literally flop if you don’t plot (cough cough that one wp ff after)

filler chapters or scenes are ALL RIGHT!! (that’s a common misconception) but they’re only okay IF they offer some insight about the characters’ personalities OR if they deepen the relationship between two characters (probably the future romantic couple)

i personally bullet plot (which means i just sit down and just word-vomit the contents of the story in a bullet-point form)

but the way people plot really differs, so i’ll leave it up to you

here’s a plot template i made that you can use (i don’t use this template very often anymore—only for longer stories, but it helps for beginners!)

sometimes, it works to leave the ending of your story unplotted (but only if you haven’t yet a single clue on how to end your story)

i find that once you write your characters a bit, it becomes easier to figure out what they would do in the future (and thus configure the ending)

A VERY IMPORTANT PART IN PLOT ACTUALLY INVOLVES THE CHARACTERS

your characters MAKE the plot

their choices will DEFINE the plot

if you had different characters, your story would turn out very differently

so always make sure your characters are CONSISTENT (unless they have subtle character development)

i.e. say you have a character who is sort of a curmudgeon lol and they’re living as a recluse and they hate people and romance. you can’t suddenly have them fall in love with the hot neighbor next door. you have to shape the plot so that the story is about the main character learning to understand others and willing to love someone who’s not herself

i.e. but say that you have a character who is a romantic-freak and idealizes romance. when the hot neighbor next door moves in, she’d be all over him (and planning the wedding the moment she sees him lol). the story would probably be about her learning how to be level-headed and lose just a few of her unrealistic ideals. the story would be about maturity, overall. there is such a huge difference in the plot just by switching ONE character

DIALOGUE

i just felt like dialogue had to be addressed because i think it’s SOOO important

dialogue makes up the relationship between two characters. you can REALLY tell where they lie on the line of friendship/relationship just by reading the way they talk to each other

a rule of thumb is to READ the dialogue out loud as you type it out

if you can read it out loud without thinking ‘well that’s not fucking realistic’ or ‘that sounds like a robot not a human’ then you’re usually good

there’s nothing wrong with repeating the word ‘said’ or ‘say(s)’

i’d actually say use other descriptions such as ‘yells,’ ‘whispers,’ ‘sighs’ sparingly. because no one on planet earth sighs 47 times in one conversation

i.e. “you’re not dead yet,” she says.

this is simple. it works. but you can make it better

i.e. “you’re not dead yet, huh?” she scoffs.

even better

i.e. “you’re not dead yet, huh?” she scoffs, shooting him a disdainful look before turning the other way in disgust

great!

try to split up long quotes!!

i.e. “it was always blue outside where i’m from. sometimes we had scheduled rainy days for the private gardens and stuff. you know, at least the food there was good. way better than the crap we're forced to eat here,” he says

it’s just a huge quote block right now

the words blend in with each other

and honestly, if you skim through it, you probably forgot what he’s even talking about lol

but we can fix that

i.e. “it was always blue outside where i’m from,” he says, gazing up rather sadly at the darkened gray skies of the run-down city. “sometimes we had scheduled rainy days for the private gardens and stuff.” he shakes his head in disbelief as if he can’t accept how desolate his home had deteriorated into over the past few years. “you know, at least the food there was good. way better than the crap we’re forced to eat here.” he glares at the muddy bowl of mystery soup he had neglected to touch since it was served

the paragraph is significantly longer, but you’re able to visualize what is happening in this scene much better!!

dialogue is my favorite part of any story LOL so i’m always open to giving more advice if you need it!

NARRATION

oh god this is so fucking important

i write in 2nd pov PRESENT tense and i’ve been consistent with this for over a year now

it’s important to probably choose a tense to write in; you typically have two options: present or past tense

i personally prefer present tense because it gives the feel of the story unfolding right before your eyes in a very linear way

past tense kind of means things have ALREADY happened, so you have more leeway to jump around on the timeline of your story

i recommend writing present tense if you’re writing action, especially, but otherwise, it’s completely up to you

just STICK to one tense. nothing is more confusing than reading a sentence with two different tenses lol

i.e. he sighed as he looks over at the fireplace with deep sorrow in his eyes. “now i’ll never fucking qualify for the championships,” he gripes as he rubbed his hand frustratingly over his forehead

like... what?? pick one and GO WITH IT

i.e. he sighed as he looked over at the fireplace with deep sorrow in his eyes. “now i’ll never fucking qualify for the championships,” he griped as he rubbed his hand frustratingly over his forehead

i.e. he sighs as he looks over at the fireplace with deep sorrow in his eyes. “now i’ll never fucking qualify for the championships,” he gripes as he rubs his hand frustratingly over his forehead

READ

i cannot emphasize this enough

READ. like literally if you don’t have time to read, you don’t have time to write periodt

reading is so SO important when you write

if you haven’t yet found your writing style, reading will SAVE you

you need to read your favorite works, analyze why you love them so much and try to emulate that writing style

after you’ve tried emulating the writing style, try to tweak things to YOUR taste until you’ve developed your very own style

it’s not easy developing your writing style. i’ve been writing for a decade give or take and i refound my writing style like two years ago LOL

the process takes patience and diligence

you don’t even always have to read good books, either

literally sometimes pick up a bad book just to see why it’s so bad and make sure you don’t make that mistake in YOUR writing lol

also, you get better at writing when you begin to edit others’ writings—it makes you self aware of the mistakes that YOU might make

RESEARCH

if you’re writing about territory you’re unfamiliar with, RESEARCH IS GOING TO BE YOUR BEST FRIEND

please don’t write about heavy concepts involving mental health, gang violence etc. without either researching it or experiencing it

your job as a writer is NOT to relay false, unrealistic information to your readers

sure, your story is FICTIONAL, but that gives you no right to romanticize something dark/serious for your pure enjoyment

it doesn’t matter if it’s fictional or not. some things are not meant to be written about in a light-hearted, romanticized way

there’s no such thing as enough research

i’ve underresearched a lot of topics that i’ve written, and i actually regret it looking back because i know for sure that if i wrote it with a little bit more knowledge, it’d become better and more realistic and OVERALL MORE READABLE

there is always more research available online. it’s fucking 2020. use your resources online lol

CONFIDENCE

it takes time to become a good writer

no one fucking wakes up one day and can write like a god

so you can always be in peace when you’re not satisfied with your writing

because 1) there is someone who is worse than you out there lol 2) you will IMPROVE (only if you put in the effort) 3) you may not be in the mood to write today, so take a break!! (it doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t write; you just need time and inspo)

confidence comes with experience

experience comes with perseverance

keep that in mind

you will become a great writer one day, and when that day comes, you will know it. you’ll feel it

the day will come when you’ll be able to sit down and write advice for others. if you can teach it, that’s when you know you know it (:

so keep writing and you’ll get there!

idk if this rambling even helped, but my shorter writing advice post is here! wish you a good time on wp!

#ask #milkimochii #writing #chana #chana's advice #inspiration #this was lowkey kinda fun to write #i hope it was helpful #because i definitely didn't know half of this shit when i started off writing #i think i was a bad writer for eight of the ten years i wrote #which kinda sucks #but at least i know now loll

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smokingtomas · 5 years

Note

So how do you picture Soma and Erina confessing their feelings base on the manga !? I'm still salty how it went and just here to satisfy my cravings. Lol

Warning: Trust me, this could be the (NSFW) ending you prefer. ;)

A Silent Conversation

It startled her when Soma pulled her arm to the side between the crowd of their friends just to say, “You’re staying for sake later, right?”

But what surprised her even more was her mouth slightly gaping and stuttered, “Oh, um, sure.”

So it happened just as it was planned– when all their friends are leaving, she waved them goodbye. Alice apparently decided to get out the door last just to grab her arm and whisper something that wasn’t on Erina’s mind.

“Good luck, Erina. And by luck, I mean you’re so gonna get a good load of it.”

This girl just knew how to embarrass her. “Goodbye, Alice!”

Nothing interesting occurred from the point she shut the door behind Alice. Not even when he swept the floor as she helped him wash the dishes.

Erina kept thinking that Alice didn’t know what she was talking about. That her assumption was nothing but a mere tease in an orderly Alice fashion. Good luck, schmood luck– the girl had even managed to dodge his questions regarding the dish he served her. Thanks to her friends who fought to get a spoonful of his–

“Yo, Nakiri,” Soma’s touch on her shoulder jerked her out, “Ready for that sake?”

“R-Right, I’ll just have to wash this pan.”

“Nah, it’s alright. Leave it and sit here.” He said, opening up a bar chair for her.

She glanced at where he rest himself, just him casually filling her glass with sake. Just before she turned back, Soma looked up and chuckled.

“Cmon, what’re ya waiting for? This good sake ain’t gonna drink itself!”

With that, she set the pan aside. “Very well.”

The clinking of their glasses followed by the word kanpai had turned into a few more pours, episodes of travel stories, a series of laughs, and were spiced with some unapologetic grazes on arms and thighs.

Both of them had realized how rare these kinds of moments are. Where they were alone in a room and only their voices echoed. Where Erina would start to notice new things each time he came back from his months of travel.

The corners of his eyes that crinkled when he laughed too loudly, or the recent knife cuts on his callous fingers, or that strong arm that reached through her to tuck a piece of her blonde locks behind her ear.

And how it never failed to heat her cheeks.

“Wow, your hair is really, really short now.” He pointed out.

“Long hair is tedious to take care of.” Erina brushed the back of her hair, “Do you not like it?”

“You kidding? I love it. Makes you ten times hotter.”

Now, this is an example where you need to stay cool, Erina. “Flattery and flirty remarks won’t change how I think of your dish, Yukihira-kun.”

He laughed at her remark, “We’ll get back to that, but I’m serious. You’re beautiful in long hair, and hot in short.”

“Well, if you start using proper hair products, I’m sure you would… not look half bad.” She hesitated.

“I’d take it as a compliment. Cheers.”

Once again, they took another shot.

“So how long will you stay this time?” Erina asked.

“Uhm… a while, I think. Haven’t booked a ticket anywhere in the near future, so I’ll just be here in Yukihira. Updating the menu and serving ‘em to our regulars.”

She couldn’t help the release of her long breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, but it was no secret that she acknowledged the relieve.

“I see.” She took a sip from her glass.

“Aren’t ya gonna ask why?”

“Yukihira, you just said you wanted to update the diner’s menu.”

“Technically, that’s what I’d be doing in the time being.” Soma corrected, “Go ahead, ask me why I’m staying.”

“Ugh, fine.” Erina rolled her eyes, “Why do you plan on staying so long?”

“‘Cause I miss cooking for you.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Y-You do?” Then as if something jolted her, she shook her head, “I-I mean, hmpf. It’s always cooking with you. Isn’t there anything else you want to say to me?”

He slowly cocked his head forward. “Like… how I know you’re looking forward to eat my cooking too?”

My God, he hadn’t changed. “No! It’s– ugh, nevermind.”

He laughed once again. Damn, those crinkles making him look cute.

“Cmon, Nakiri. Y'know how I feel about you.” Soma ruffled her hair. “You already forgot that hell of a kiss before I left the last time?”

Of course she hadn’t. It had intoxicated her brain and left her sleepless for a week.

She remembered said moment as if it was photographed.

He’d placed his palms on her cheeks and pressed his lips gently against her. When he’d deepen his movement, it was silence. There were no passerby with luggage, no crooked voice announcing it was his flight’s last call, or the thought of him leaving her again for months.

Even just thinking about it, that tingling sensation on her lips and butterflies in her stomach came back.

Wait a second– she did know how he felt. Yes, he kissed her well, alright.

Was it her that hadn’t said or did anything?

“No, Yukihira. I remembered well.” Erina finally said, “But do tell me if what’s coming is better.”

It might be the alcohol taking charge, or it could be her plain desire, but as she lifted herself from the chair and grab his cheek, her body wasn’t aware that her lips were already on his.

Yes, she was trembling. Yes, her heart was jumping out of her chest. But none of it mattered when the feeling from that autumn came rushing down like a waterfall. Lips were as soft as she remembered and she wouldn’t know what to do if he’d kissed her back at this moment.

So before he had the chance, she pulled away and opened her eyes slowly, revealing how he’d been mimicking her movements.

She gulped, wiping her lips as she rose completely and headed through the door, “Goodnight, Yukihira.”

In her mind, saying that goodnight meant she’d rather go home and overthinking what just happened, or even worse, what could have happened if she’d stayed.

But a good grip on her arm stopped her from taking another step.

“Y’know it’s rude to kiss a guy like that and walk away, right?”

Soma’s voice was an invitation and her soul would want to be an attendee. All it took was another step from him and a good pull of her waist back into his arms, drowning into that deeply familiar kiss that swept her feet away.

The feeling was welcomed with her lips’ slow dance, reciprocating the gentle brushes he kept on gifting, and she didn’t mind his fingers that crept up through her back to finally end up tangling her short blonde locks.

To her, it wasn’t just about the growing heat, or that tongue of his that had started invading her mouth making her gasp for air, it was also their buried feelings– the newfound emotions she only recognized ten years after a pair of golden eyes started haunting her dreams.

So when Soma got hold of both her legs around him, she let him lift her off the ground and hooked her arms behind his neck.

The dance continued as soon as Erina was rested on one of the dining tables, but it was cut short and the sensation had moved to the junction of her shoulder. A small whimper escaped her, but the urge to remove his white t-shirt was bigger.

As his top flew across the room, she didn’t have much chance to admire his physique. Even in the split second he undid her blouse, she knew he’d spared some time to work out.

His lips never left hers. His hands wouldn’t stop grazing her exposed thighs. And she found it hard to hold back her sweet noises when they left to roam around, touching and nibbling on her other sensitive flesh.

That was before he suddenly lifted a knee to hover over her. Ragged breath fanned over her like a tempting sin.

“Nakiri,” He whispered, “Should I stop?”

She shook her head quickly before pulling him in for another kiss. It quickly turned into a blur when she found him buckling his fingers to the hem of her skirt.

He looked up to her for confirmation, and when she responded with a nod, he slowly pulled every single fabric covering her most sensitive areas before landing his lips back on hers.

Erina’s head rested on the table’s hard wood and she was weak. Her knees had been trembling, and it trembled more when his fingertips gently tease her inner thighs. She didn’t react when she felt his lip dropped. All she squirmed to was the feeling of his digits, finding that spot that felt too eager for him.

Moans after moans went into his mouth. Mirroring the rhythm he set was her arched back that continuously bucked at his thumb. He’d kiss her at times to suppress her noises, but he’d be the only one to end up groaning. She knew he enjoyed sketching away his feelings this way– in a delicious, circular motion. And the harder his finger pushed, the louder her moans had gotten.

And when she was on the edge, he stopped and fished his wallet.

“Wh-Why did you stop?” She panted, obviously disappointed.

“Condom,” He told her, “No way I’d leave you like that.”

She smiled and rose up to help him free, watching with anticipation as he rolled the rubber on himself.

It didn’t take long for him to finally dipped inside her, colliding their warm skin that melted into one. He kissed her goosebumps, before kissing her lips once again. He tasted so sweet even when it was only their breaths that meld, and she couldn’t stop the crave her god tongue desired.

She never understood the words she wanted to say to him because what she felt was deeper than its surface. It had been eating her alive, and she’d die if he’d never known of it.

With that feeling, with every thrust he stroked, gentle or rough, she pulled him deep. Maybe the only way he’d acknowledge it was only by the desperate moans of her lungs whispering his name in his ear. He’d know these voices, the peak she had reached, only belonged to him.

This was that silence conversation: where only their bodies spoke, and their heart listened.

And as he hushed and cursed her name repeatedly, his throbbing strengthened, that was where she knew he felt the same.

“Yukihira,” Erina mumbled as he zipped up her top, “It was good.”

He chuckled, kissing her shoulder, “Are you talking about my cooking or the sex?“

“I’ll let you figure it out.” She said, "Thank you for today, Yukihira.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Soma responded.

He held her in his arms for what felt like a long time. Long enough for her to notice and not minding the seafood smell intact on his t-shirt. All she felt was that warm embrace she had missed.

“Sweet dreams, Yukihira-kun.” She pulled away and gave his cheek a peck.

“Wait, Nakiri. You’re leaving?”

“W-Well, it’s 2 am. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your rests.”

“Oh…” He said dejectedly.

Strange– she’d never heard that tone before, “Wh-Why? What’s wrong?”

“Don’t you… wanna stay? I mean, you just had a drink and it ain’t good to drive after all that sake you just drank, y'know.” Soma persuaded. “And I got a great breakfast recipe I’d make ya in the morning! What a deal, eh?”

“Yukihira, I have my driver waiting for me. I’d just have to give him a call.”

“Aight. Then stay for me.”

She blushed.

“E-Eh?”

“Don’t go, Nakiri.” He pulled her into another embrace, “Stay for a little while, will ya?”

“For how long?”

He paused and caressed her hair.

“If I say forever, would you do it?”

Erina swore her heart was about to burst. It was the first time he spoke something somewhat heartfelt. No food. No recipes. Just him as a man, showing his vulnerable side.

She knew she needed to say no more– she knew he meant it.

“I… suppose I can arrange that.”

A/N: YEAAAA so I haven’t written this kind of thing in a pretty long time so… feedback would be greatly appreciated :) and the only non-anon in the bunch @lisa786786, hope this helps and good luck if you decided to create it!

#shokugeki no soma #sorina #soueri #food wars #yukihira soma #nakiri erina #prompt request #drabbles

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