#The Office sentence starter

[abyssembraced]

((Mako-Muses)) ((Kazuma)) "I can't leave you alone for one minute, can I?"

Ryunosuke's blood nearly ran cold when he heard the door open. For a second, he thought it was Lord Barok van Zieks, returning to his office after a long day in the courts. Fortunately, however, he could relax somewhat when he realized that the new arrival was just Kazuma, and not the intimidating man once known as the Reaper of the Bailey.

That wasn’t to say he was causing trouble in the office, of course! He wasn’t doing anything wrong, really!! …Aside from being inside the ex-Reaper's office when he wasn't around, that is, but his intentions were pure!! He was just… In a bit of a predicament at the moment, and he wasn’t quite in the mood to add Lord van Zieks' terrifying glare to his current list of worries.

Ryunosuke was currently flailing around in the middle of the room, desperately trying to fight off the flurry of bats that guarded the office. He was absolutely covered in them, and for one reason or another, they were far from pleased with the man. High-pitched shrieks of pure rage filled the air as the small mammals dive-bombed and scratched at the ‘intruder's’ head, back, arms, and any other surface they could reach.

“K-Kazuma!” Ryunosuke exclaimed, once his best friend walked in. “Um, a little hel—OW!” His request was cut short by a yelp of pain as one of the bats elected to swipe at his ear. (These things… They weren’t diseased or anything, were they!? Surely Lord van Zieks would ensure they stayed healthy, right!?)

“Help, please.” He finally groaned out. He would have moved to rub his now very sore ear, had either of his arms not been too busy trying to fend off more of the tiny beasts.

(@mako-muses)

[siixkiing]

“Oh, its terrifying. Oh, my god.” (to Macaque)

☯ Markiplier — Job Simulator: Office Worker  {Sentence Starters} ☯

"Eh, I give it a solid three. Maybe a four if I'm being generous."

The nonchalant way he was acting made one question JUST what this simian had seen to not be phased. Than again, it was probably best not to ask. Not like Macaque would divulge such private and personal details — keeping himself closed off from others.

Instead staring at the situation in question, a look of utter boredom and slight amusement painted his features. Eyebrows raising.

"Honestly, I've seen more terrifying stuff come out of a shower drain."

[my-timing-is-digital]

[ Ooc: AAAAAA, I want to write on this friendly positronic pissed off security system, but I've got work tomorrow and the day after. BUT I'll have plenty of time to write next week. So, hopefully, I'll be able to write most of the drafts and asks then. :3 Anyway, I might shove a lil starter call in the queue, and see what happens, because Data wants more friends. Boi keeps nagging me. He's talking about it 24/7. He's V persistent. :3 ]

[reverieblondie]

Rehearsing

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Spider-woman!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Smut and Fluff, Accidental Voyeurism, Masturbation, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Riding, Pining, Dumification, Overstimulation, Aftercare.

Summary: Miguel isn't good when it comes to feelings...especially when it comes to you...

A/N: I just really like the idea of Miguel having a crush on reader and not knowing how to navigate it. This went through so many rewrites so I hope you enjoy. its pretty Fluffy and cheesy, but I'm a hopeless romantic so I enjoyed it.

Word Count: 5,547

“Tsk, why did she have to say that…”

Miguel can't help but feverishly type at his holo screens, with each passing second his irritation spreads.  

It started a couple of months ago when you got recruited, at first it was just a simple attraction but the more you graced him with your presents the more he couldn't resist his growing feelings. 

The problem is for one having a crush is ridiculous. He's not some teenager, he's a grown-ass man, leader of the spider society he can't just go having crushes on the people who work under him. Even if he got over that part of it there is another problem however plaguing his….situation, he can hardly even speak to you. 

Before he was Spider-Man he was quite suave and if he didn't want to converse with someone he could at least manage it. Nowadays, he seems to only be talking in gruff commands, short sentences, or just downright mean. Closing himself off from personal things. He blames the whole masked vigilante thing for his lack of practice in conversing. 

It's not like he hasn’t tried though, he's come close to having normal conversation with you numerous times but when you look at him with those eyes something in him seems to short-circuit and he's a mess of a man before you. Shocking ridiculous…  

Finally, Miguel couldn't take it anymore; he had to get closer to you. The plan was simple: he arranged for you and him to go on a mission together. It was the perfect way to get closer to you, You and him alone, out of the society walls away from prying eyes, he could finally open up to you. 

Unfortunately, the beautiful plan he had so painstakingly rehearsed over and over again in his mind, came to a screeching halt when the day of you walked into his office with Gwen and Hobie in tow. Of course, something was going to derail his plans. It couldn't ever be simple 

Miguel could easily say no to Gwen and Hobie asking to tag along, but those two were clever. They had you ask for them and of course, you did.  Miguel knew that the inclusion of them would wreck his plan but he just couldn't resist you, he would do anything for you…anything…you just had to ask. 

Now with his whole plan derailed he was sulking in an isolated corner of the rooftop building as the rest of you all surveyed the city for anomalies. 

“This is pretty dull…” Hobie comments 

Well no shit, Miguel thinks to himself. This was supposed to be an easy mission so he could get closer to y/n. It wasn't supposed to be stressful, it was supposed to be easy. In his plan, he and y/n were supposed to already be enthralled in conversation. He had of course looked up conversation starters to use, it would have been perfect…  

Miguel can only groan at Hobie, just looking at him makes his blood boil. Needing to calm his sudden irritation, his eyes fall on you. Looking so vigilantly to the city, taking the mission so seriously. He could do this forever, just watching you, he would gladly just be a piece of furniture in your life if you let him. There for you to use when you needed him. He would sit so patiently as he just watched you live. Just basking in the warm radiance of you. 

Miguel can’t help but stare at you, mind racing with thoughts. So when you finally turn he is quick to move his gaze, pretending to not have been staring, tapping again at his watch. 

He thought for sure he had been slick but when he looked up again to gaze at you he saw Hobie with a wide smirk on his face. Almost like Hobie has been reading his mind. Hobie huffs a chuckle to himself before he looks at you then back to Miguel, Then that damn question rang out from his smug mouth. 

“How about some team bonding huh?” All eyes fall on Hobie and before anyone can even respond he's continuing “I’ll ask the first question, what does everyone fancy?” 

Going to voice his protest about how that is not imperative knowledge to know about a teammate Gwen is chiming in “Oh! I love a guy with witty humor, even if it's not particularly funny, if he's clever I will like it.” 

Hobie nods “Very nice gwendy, personally, I have a thing for hands”

This caused a laugh from y/n and Gwen and Miguel just couldn't help the irritated look on his face.

“Miguel how abou-” 

“No” Miguel quickly cuts off the question.  

“Fine, Y/n what about you?” 

Now Miguel didn't care about the teen's answers, but yours, this could be his chance to find out what you like. He was hopeful it would be something similar to him or something that he has. Watching with bated breath, your face contorts into deep thought, and then your answer rings through making his breath still. 

“I like smiles”

A smile…of course, you would say a smile…

You couldn’t say, tall or muscular, or stern, you couldn’t have just pointed to Miguel you had to say smiles…something that he never does

Pulling himself back to the present Miguel stops typing away at his holo screen shutting them off. It had been a couple of days since the mission and he was still agonizing over the revelation. Smiles…Staring ahead towards one of his monitors he studies his face through the reflective surface, his ever stern face showing no sign of emotion. 

Miguel then practices a smile and quickly stops with a frown, sighing irritatedly as his foot begins to tap, what is he doing? Looking forward again, He braces his large hands on his desk then smiles again, this time showing his teeth, large fangs on display from the grin. He keeps the smile placed there and turns his head from left to right smiling a bit wider. He then stops whipping his hands down his face.

This is ridiculous…he should be working not practicing how to smile but, you like smiles…maybe if you thought he had a nice smile…

Miguel feels his face slightly flush and the tips of his ears warm. Looking back to the reflective surface he takes a deep breath to ready himself. Sure this is pathetic, but it's for you, he would do anything for you and if you want a smile he was going to make sure to practice to give you the best smile he could muster. Training, it's just like simple training… 

“Hey, how are you today y/n?” -smiles-

“Oh, are you eating lunch? Can I join you?” -smile- 

“What? You like my fangs? Well thank you y/n” -smile-

“You look gorgeous today.” -smile- 

Miguel breaks the last rehearsed smile and rubs his hands on his face once more, an exasperated sigh leaving him again. 

“this so stupid…that wouldn’t work…”Practicing how to smile for her. Pathetic. 

The sound of his office door opening breaks his pouting. Miguel quickly puts his screens back up making him seem busy with work. Then the sweet sound of your voice rings through his blushed ears, turning, he thinks it can't be true, but there you are. Staring up at him with those shining eyes.

Just give me a chance, you won't regret it; he thinks to himself.  

“Hello Miguel, we caught the anomaly in dimension 0798, Peter had a mayday emergency come up so he asked me to deliver the reports.” 

You type away at your watch screen sending the completed report his way. 

“I also wanted to see if you had anything else for me before I take my leave,”

Miguel opens up the report you sent his way, it's pristine and thorough, you always wrote the best reports…god could you be sexier… 

Scanning over it quickly before putting it away his eyes return to you. Unable to help himself he stares at your beautiful form for a bit too long, face still in that stern look, no smile to greet you. Studying you for a moment wanting to confess his desire for you, wanting to tell you what you make him feel. But the words don't meet his lips, just a curt grunt. 

“Nothing else, you can leave”

Giving a small nod you turn on your heels to leave, As you are walking towards the exit Miguel can't help himself and calls out your name. Whipping around quickly you face him once more with curious eyes. 

Shit, he didn't think that through. Examining you he takes you in again. lovely eyes, glossy lips, those hips…he could stare at you forever. Clearing his throat averting his eyes to calm himself before he speaks. 

“I hope you have a pleasant evening.'' He says not looking at you, then he forces himself to slide his scarlet eyes to you, then quickly balling his clammy hands into first he gives his best shot at a smile. It's more of a smirk and he's worried his fangs might be popping out too much. Sure, he's going to have to practice to do better, but this is what he's got for you now. He feels intense eyes not matching the smile but he keeps it on hoping this is enough for you; he feels like an idiot. 

You look surprised for a minute before your lips widen to that additive smile of yours. God how you make his chest warm from your small actions, do you even know what you do to him? Breath catching in his throat he just watches how the simple act of your smile lightens up his dingy office. 

“You too Miguel, thank you.” Turning back you exit the office, completely oblivious that you have completely melted him.

Watching you leave the smile turns more natural, softening his rigid features slightly. 

“Well, that seemed to go well, practicing is starting to pay off huh?” Layla beams floating around Miguel's head, his face instantly falling back to his ever-iconic frown. 

“Could you just, not?” the voice irritated but the slight flush of his ears gave away how on the inside he's beaming. 

-----

Miguel couldn't help himself, after your brief interaction in his office a few days ago, he just couldn't resist the urge to see you again. But instead of just finding and talking to you (like a normal person) he settled on watching you through the cameras of HQ. 

Yes, Kinda creepy, but when you are near he clams up so this was the alternative. You were training in the strength and conditioning room, sparring with Gwen to improve your combat skills. Miguel appreciated how seriously you were taking your training, sweat and fatigue in your eyes showing how you were instant to push yourself. Movements so graceful chest heaving as you wore out over time. Seeing your sweaty body a familiar rush spreads through him reaching his crotch, you're going to be the death of him… 

Finally, the training wrapped up, Miguel watched as you stretched out your neck rubbing your sore shoulders. The training session wore you out. Always pushing yourself towards improvement, Miguel admired that about you. 

“Si, baby so sore,” Miguel whispers as he watches you. If you gave him the chance he would rub all your soreness from you, he would make it his mission just to make you feel good. 

Getting closer to the screen he thinks of what it would be like to just touch you, to hold you, just once. That's all he needed one touch and this crush would disappear. 

Watching intently he sees that smile, like the one you had given him spread to your lips when Gwen handed you a bottle of water. Eagerly opening the water you press the bottle to your lips and start drinking in haste, the water running down your mouth to your neck. His heart skips a beat and his pants get tighter, of course, one touch wouldn't satisfy him. If he had you he could never let you go, his plight would only worsen. 

Zooming on to your face he studies every curve, every feature. 

“Just one chance, give me one chance…” 

“One chance what?” 

Peter's voice breaks Miguel's daze and causes him to quickly hide the monitor with his hands. It's too late however Peter is right next to him and has heard what Miguel said. Peter's face is confused at first but when he looks at Miguel's eager hands trying to hide something he leans in further, and then a sliver of your face shows through. Realization hits him and an excited smile spreads to his face. Peter watches as Miguel's face slightly flushes and contours to irritation. 

“Miguel, wait, do you-”

“No, ¡Cállate!” 

------

After a long conversation of Miguel telling Peter to shut up while he guesses his crush correctly, he's boasting about how he figured Miguel was interested in y/n and how he was going to help Miguel out. Miguel was reluctant, but he wanted to get closer to you desperately, so if Peter was going to help to make that happen he would just have to grit and bear it, for you, anything for you. Peter assures Miguel he knows how to help him but he first has to go pick up some supplies…. 

Peter returns to Miguel’s office with a bag. Miguel knew he was about to regret this. 

“So I figured because you have a hard time talking to y/n the best thing to do is rehearse what you are going to say. When I asked out MJ I practiced this whole speech for her, very romantic. She loved it.” As Peter talks he opens the bag to reveal a wig that is very raminist to your hair. Peter flips the wig on his head and faces Miguel. 

Miguel just shakes his head disapprovingly

“No, Absolutely not.” 

“Come on Miguel we are just going to practice what you're going to say” Peter tries to reassure with a smile.  

“Is the wig really necessary?” Miguel groans as he watches Peter flick the hair from his face and adjust the wig. 

Peter holds his hand to his chest in mock offense “It helps me get in character” 

“I'm not doing this” Miguel turns to leave to go back to working on his platform before Peter quickly protests.

“Okay, okay, I'm just trying to help ease the tension, but let's do this, practice what you are going to say.” 

Miguel huffs, he really must be desperate to be getting Peter's help like this. “How do I even approach her?” 

“You could start with a hi, you know like a normal person?” 

Miguel groans “Okay…” Peter turns away from Miguel. Miguel takes a moment to think of his approach before he walks closer to Peter. 

“Hello, Y/n do you have a second to talk?” 

Peter whips around in a perky dementor, “Oh hi Miguel, of course, I have a second just for you” Peter says in a mockingly sweet tone and shoots Miguel a wink that has his skin crawling

“She wouldn't do that” 

“You don't know, plus I'm playing y/n so I am putting my creative twist to it, now continue”  

Miguel rolls his eyes before continuing. 

“I enjoyed reading your last mission report, very thorough as usual” 

Peter groans breaking character “Miguel, that’s boring, don’t talk about work. You're trying to ask her out not give her a promotion” 

Miguel thinks “Well that’s a thought…” 

Peter snaps his fingers “Look you like her you need to get personal share your feelings; share your passion.” 

Miguel scoffs rolling his eyes, sharing his passion. He couldn't get that personal so quickly. Peter can read his distrust and is quick to convince him.

“No, trust me, I landed MJ I know how to talk to women, now try again but with more passion and fire!” 

Peter goes back to where he was standing before. Miguel turns and thinks of Y/n. Passion? Fire? 

His thoughts go back to when he first saw her, he thought she glowed in a breathtaking radiance, and he couldn't remember when he saw someone so beautiful. Then once she started talking she was so positive, but never naive, she just always wanted to bring people up and make them feel better. She was also a hard worker, always picking up the slack for others and always wanting to improve herself, not everyone was like that, they would just be content with how things were but not her. Then there was how she always made a room warmer from just being there, things were just a little bit better when you were around. Miguel saw qualities in her that he wished he had, or that he wished a partner would have. So since he met her, she was stuck in his mind. 

Finally, he thinks he has it,  

“Y/n”  Miguel breathes.

Peter turns around slowly “Why yes…” Before he can finish his words Miguel’s large frame is looming over him, hands quickly squeezing his arms to his sides staring intensely.

“I think you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. You are so warm to me and I would destroy anything or anyone who would ever think of harming you. Just give me the word, give me a chance and I will…for you…anything for you…” 

Peter looks terrified from the intensity of the confession and a coughing nose makes them break the intense eye contact. 

They see Jess and Ben staring at the two of them Jess is the first to speak up

“Should we come back later? Or…” 

Miguel and Peter quickly break apart. 

“Look that wasn't towards me Miguel has a thing for Y/n” 

Right as Peter voices your name Miguel's hands on his throat to strangle him. Jess and Ben all let out a long ‘oh’ as Miguel proceeded to shake Peter by his neck. 

“It’s actually been quite sweet” a voice calls “I mean we all should have guessed considering he stares at her like a love-sick dog.”

This causes Miguel to stop his assault on Peter and look around confused. Dropping down he sees Hobie with that smug look on his face. 

“Your kinda obvious mate.”

Miguel shakes his head, irritation and embarrassment starting to take him over. 

“What are you doing here?” Miguel growls

“Look mate I just came to catch a nap, didn't expect to catch a show instead.” 

Great, Peter knows, Jess knows, Ben knows and now shocking Hobie knows, this can't get any worse. 

“So, when are you going to confess?” Ben asks curiously 

“We were shooting for next week” Peter, now back to life, places his hand on Miguel's shoulder. 

Hobie sucks air between his teeth and this causes everyone to turn to look at him confused. 

“I wouldn’t wait that long if I were you, apparently she has a crush she's going to confess too soon.” 

Miguel's eyes glow red, it just got worse- “She likes someone? Who!” He barks out to get an answer

Hobie holds his hands up in mock surrender “I ain’t got scooby doo mate, just what I heard” 

“Well that could just be a rumor,” Jess says trying to calm Miguel's sudden rage

“It was from a reliable source” Hobie counters with a smirk.

------

What is he doing, What is he doing? 

Miguel's mind races as he swings through y/n’s dimension. It was just a rumor he tried to assure himself, but that small voice in his mind counters, what if it wasn’t? What if it was true and he missed his chance, no, even if you reject him he needs to tell you how he feels. All his nervousness seems to flow away as he gets closer to your apartment. 

Your apartment in view he takes a deep breath and swings over, gripping the wall with his talons to catch himself. Climbing with a fever he reaches your window which was left open by a crack, the curtains of your room hiding the inside. He didn't even know if you were home, and just going in would be an invasion of your privacy but Miguel can't resist he needs to talk to you tonight!

Slowly opening the window more he first smells it, then your whimpering moan confirms it. Miguel swallows trying to soothe his suddenly dry throat. With slow movements, he carefully opens the window and peaks through the curtains. 

There you are, back arched, hair messy, bouncing on a large dildo. It was the image he had fantasized about and now it's happening right in front of him. Completely hypnotized by the sight and urged by the tightening of his suit's crotch area. He moves his head in more, pushing up on the window to open it slowly wider to lean himself in.

“Ah!~ ah!~” 

Eyes widening Miguel thinks he's dreaming, the throbbing of his cock is killing him and as he moves his hand from the window to palm his sudden ache. But with no warning the window slid shut abruptly, landing hard on his head and making a loud thump. The sudden noise startles you to scream, quickly unsheathing the dildo from your wet pussy and fumbling to cover yourself with the ruined sheets of your bed. 

 “Miguel? What are you doing here?” you ask in a panic.  

Face flushed Miguel crawls through your window landing clumsily on the floor. He's too embarrassed to answer your question. 

“What's wrong with your window?” -smooth, avoid the question. 

“It's broken, it only stays open a crack” you ramble in confusion, then you furrow your eyes back to him “wait, don’t avoid the question, why are you here?” 

Miguel stumbles off of the floor now towering at his full height.  Looking down at you he can't help the desire flooding down to his cock. The sweat makes your skin glow, your hair a disheveled mess from fucking yourself too fast, nude body wrapped in your thin white sheets that as your arousal completely drenches it making it appear slightly see-through on your body. Great, he thought confessing to you would be hard before, but now it seems downright impossible. 

Miguel sees you shuffling uncomfortably so he turns around before he speaks, the tips of his ears red from blushing. 

“I wanted to speak with you.” 

“Uh, You couldn't call?” 

Miguel's shoulders slumped slightly, this was not going well…

“No, it's not a work matter”

“Then what-”

“Personal” Miguel quickly whips around looking at your eyes before turning back around. He starts tapping his foot feeling nervous. 

“You see y/n, I'm not exactly the best when it comes to talking..about…personal things. I usually focus on work, especially since founding the society that honestly takes up my entire life-” Miguel feels himself starting to ramble, great he's talking now but not saying what he needs to. “Well lately there has been something else occupying my mind, and it involves you.” 

Miguel hears you shuffling around and his nerves are threatening to get the better of him. How can he face anomalies, and lead a whole superhuman society but he can't just tell someone he likes them? Taking a deep breath he steadies himself once more. He just needs to do it, confess, come on it's just like ripping off a bandaid.

“Do you remember what Hobie asked us?…” 

Miguel winces and scratches the back of his head, Why is he bringing this up now? Great; This confession is already crap…

“Um…Yeah?” shit, you sound so creeped out. Well, how could you not be right now? Just need to keep going.  

“Well, the thing is, it's you…the thing I like, well you're not a thing. The person I like..is you. But I guess Hobie was talking about characteristics…you have actually a lot of characteristics that I am fond of…like your eyes for one…but it's not just your appearance, shit…¿Qué demonios estoy diciendo? (what the hell am I saying).”

As Miguel rubs his hand on his forehead feeling stupid for doing this, his words are cut off by the sensation of a hand touching the middle of his back gently. The hand rubs up and down slowly, causing a shiver to roll down Miguel's spine. 

“I like you too,” Your voice rings in his ears, the thumping of his heart stilling for a moment as his breath stops. Miguel turns around to face you. You're looking up at him still wrapped up in your sheets, arms wrapping around his waist. That smile that lights up his mind, how your touch warms his body. He's addicted to how you make him feel.  

“I’m not good at this…there was this whole speech I rehearsed..” 

“Yeah, you might need some more practice on your romantic speeches”

Looking down you look like an angel wrapped in your white sheets looking up at him with such tenderness. Not wanting to waste this moment he leads down towards your face. 

“I think I'm more of a man of action, rather than words” 

Feeling your soft hand touch his face he sees how to lift your toes to get closer to his face fanning your breath over his lips. 

“Isn’t the saying? Actions speak louder than words?” 

With that he swiftly lifts you from the back of your thighs, instinctively you wrap your legs around him, and then your arms wrap around his neck while your fingers play with his dark hair. Seating himself down on your bed with you straddling him. Miguel's crimson eyes just keep to your face, taking in how your face changes with every movement he makes.  

Tenderly you place your hands to the sides of his face, leaning in you carefully catch his lips into a kiss. He reveled in how your glossy lips formed to his, his tongue gently pushing through your lips. He has to open his eyes and close them again just to make sure this is real and not one of his daydreams. 

The kiss becomes more heated, you taste better than he could have imagined. Slowly he rubs his gloves hands over you causing your thin sheet to slip off you pooling to the floor.  

Miguel breaks the kiss and looks down at your nude body. A low groan vibrates through his chest as he pushes your body closer to him, then roughly grabs your ass. The sudden touch has you jumping forward with a whimper. Taking the opportunity, he is quick to latch his plush lips to your perked bud. Tongue swirling around the sensitive peak while his talons threaten to pierce the skin of your ass. 

He's lost in the moans of you losing yourself to the pleasure. Tugging and pinching your sensitive skin as he licks the valley of your breast. Getting drunk off your moans he swears he could continue to taste your skin forever but, the feeling of your wet cunt rubbing against his erection tips him off to how needy you are becoming, your rutting into him like you're in heat, and he's quick to make it worse by grinding into you latching onto your breast once more. 

“Miguel, please…” 

That's right, beg…Miguel releases your nipple with a pop. 

“Please what my angel?” he grabs your neck and licks a stripe up to your ear that causes you to shake. 

“I want you, Please.” 

Miguel smiles and deactivates his suit, his strained erection quickly popping forward to slap your puff folds, moans escaping from your lips. Grabbing a hold of his cock he slips it through your folds coating it your slick. Practically coming undo then he feels how your nails scratch his skin, the teasing is making you desperate. Miguel can't help himself; he slaps his cock on your swollen clit just to hear you whimper. 

“Ride it, angel.” 

Grabbing his cock he holds it still as you breathlessly line yourself up to the pebbling tip of his cock. Tight grip on his shoulders you slowly sink yourself down. Inch by inch slowly splitting yourself open on him.  

“It’s ah, big…” 

You're already clenching and you're only halfway down. Miguel is quick to rub soft circles on your hip gently guiding you while cooing praises to your ear.

 “Shh, I know but you're almost there, just relax.” 

Finally, you have pressed him in, the delicious stretch making your head roll over your bare shoulders. Taking a moment to adjust to his size Miguel presses delicate kisses to your chest and collarbone. His hands hold your hips as you adjust to his length.  

“Look at you, you're taking me so well”

Glazed-over eyes meet his praise and your glossy lips stretch to a smile. He thinks he could cum just at the sight, but he knows you need more, and he's not going to disappoint you. Quickly he's lifting your hips up and down fucking you slowly down on him. All you can do is moan and grab his shoulders tighter and his pace builds from slow and tender to more vigorous. 

Subtle grunts of ‘Mine’, and ‘sweet’ escape his lips as he practically uses you as a human fleshlight. To Miguel's surprise though you're pushing his chest to lay his back onto the bed. Once he's down you start bouncing faster on him. 

Bouncing, up and down the squelch of your wet pussy clenching on him, you are mewling in pleasure as your face contours to that of a silent scream. Body glistening from the sweat fucking yourself hard on his cock, back arching as you chase your orgasm. Miguel can help but throw his head back moaning, his mouth hanging open fangs stretched out. He never thought his sweet angel could be so relentless, it has his cock throbbing. 

“That's it, baby, fuck yourself dumb on my cock”

Miguel starts rubbing and flicking your clit that has your eyes pricking with tears. He watches as you pant, your velvet walls clenching down on him as you continue to ride him approaching orgasm. Sweat rolls down your flushed skin and you continue. Taking his hand he gently grabs your chin and makes you look down at him, he wants to etch the fucked out expression to his mind forever. His sweet angel mouth in that perfect ‘o’ and her hooded eyes pool with tears from the intense pleasure. 

Biting his lip he slams his hip up nudging into your cervix that has you throwing your head back screaming, your nails digging into his chest as you finally squirt on his cock.  

“Cumming, I'm cumming miggy~ ah, ah ah!” 

“That’s it, cum on my cock, such a good girl, squirting all over me.”

Fucking you through your orgasm he stops your bouncing and grabs your hips guiding you to rock back a forth on his length. Squirming and wailing in overstimulation he knows that the pain and pleasure are swirling together making your brain split, your cunt gets wetter as it tightens to try and accommodate to the rapture you are feeling.  

“Just hang on for me angel, ah please…”

Thoroughly fucked dumb you're only able to blabber incoherently and nod through half-lidded eyes as Miguel's throbbing cock chases his orgasm. With your blissed-out agreeance, he Grabs the globs of your ass and fucks into your faster. 

“Ah, I'm going to fill you up, you want that? Be filled with cum?” 

You can only release a stream of ‘uh-huh’ as the coil in your stomach starts to tighten again. It's not until you muster a sweet coo of “fill me” that has him rutting harder shooting his hot cum inside you with one final thrust. Whimpering as he fills you, you sit still on his cock till you’ve practically milked him dry. The intense throbbing of his cock and the sudden rush of heat bursting inside you has your coil snapping as you cum on him a second time 

Gently rubbing your sides he coaxes you down slowly to his chest. Curling his arm around you he softly kisses your spent body. Staying like that for awhile, it's you who finally rolls off his chest and disappears out of the room. Miguel hears what sounds like a bath, leaning up he looks up to see your nude body leaning in the doorway smiling at him, it's so infectious that he can't help but smile back. 

----

Miguel's head is pressed to your chest as you gently massage the conditioner through his scalp. A smile pressed to his lips as he just relaxes with you in the warm bath. His large hand rubs tender circles on your knee as he just listens to your sweet hums as you tenderly wash him. The steam from the bath rises to create the perfect haze in the room, it feels so natural to be doing this,to be with you in such an intimate way. Kisses get pressed to his face as you hug him tightly, the smile on his face only growing wider. 

“Miguel” 

“Mhmm?” He lazily looks up at you to see your sweet smile. Carefully he brings his hand to brush your hair behind your ear. 

“Nothing, I just really like your smile”

[shares-a-vest]

@steddiemas Day 16: Angst-Themed (Saturday Sentence Starters)

wc: 1k | Rated: T | cw: Steve’s parents are arguing (he is overhearing it briefly but there are some descriptions of yelling), toxic family dynamics, unstable marriage, cheating

Tags: Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unstable Marriage, Toxic Family Dynamics, Cheating

“I don’t want to fight with you, Caroline,” Steve hears his father bellow from downstairs, “Not tonight.”

He snaps his comic closed and tosses it on the floor.

Steve has no idea what his parents are arguing about. Hell, they don’t even need an excuse these days, he thinks. Someone can so much as fart and it will start a goddamn screaming match.

He guesses he shouldn’t be surprised. It’s the holidays and his parents are both off work until the beginning of the New Year. It’s snowing heavy out so they can’t go down to the Martens’ house – their best friends-come-buffer zones.

“Oh, John!” his mother chides before there is a lower muffle that he can’t quite make out.

While being hard of hearing allows him not to hear anything below a shout, the broken argument is still frustrating.

His parents might not need an excuse to fight, but he’d still like to know what it’s about. Gain intel for the inevitable coming days of being stuck in the middle.

Steve has a few guesses as to what it could be.

His mother bought a new car with her Christmas bonus finally topping up her bank account and thus justifying an indulgent and expensive purchase. His father always hates that.

Steve smirks.

If his father didn’t like that kind of independence, why did he marry a high-paid lawyer?

But, the more likely scenario considering his father’s apparent insistence he ‘doesn’t want to fight’ is that he is cheating again.

Cindy, his secretary, or someone new – take your pick.

The telltale signs have been there for a month or two. A renewed cheery attitude, longer office hours, a fresh haircut and new clothes.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, it might be a little bit of a motivator behind his mother’s car purchase too – 

“ – Cindy!” his mother shrieks.

Yep, there it is.

Steve rolls off the bed, planting his feet on the carpet right by his shoes.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, scooping up his keys and wallet from the nightstand.

He’s just about halfway to Forest Hills, driving at a snail’s pace because he can’t see for snow, when he begins to regret his decision to leave the house.

Maybe he shouldn’t just barge in on the Munsons unannounced. Like sure, his friendship with Eddie is… teetering on not being entirely platonic. But this might be too much.

He always thought it was too much when he’d walk down to stay at Carol Perkins’ house for an impromptu sleepover. And there was always this awkward, knowing going on with the Wheeler’s when he was dating Nancy and spending a lot of time just hanging about.

Lingering for too long in the kitchen chatting to Karen or watching a game with Ted until the guy started snoring too loud to hear the commentators.

It was all there but largely unspoken.

Only Robin knows the details. And even then, he’s sure that her father’s friendliness towards him was partly due to his daughter telling him all about the trouble at the ‘ol Harrington house. He doesn’t blame his best friend for likely doing so. And he doesn’t consider it blabbing, either. Robin’s parents – her whole family – are amazing.

But some of his parent’s shit is stupid at best, hard to take at worst.

And he is scared to let Eddie in on it.

It’s too much.

He’s too much.

Being a Harrington is too much.

Wayne answers the door with a cup of cocoa that seems glued to his left hand in winter.

“Steve,” he says, voice gruff as ever despite a warm smile.

“Hi,” he replies, looking down at his snow-covered boots, “Eddie in?”

Of course, he’s in, his van is parked outside.

Steve can feel the warmth from inside the trailer. See the twinkle of lights from the Munson’s small, but heavily-decorated, Christmas tree. The smell of cocoa overpowering the ever-present hint of cigarettes.

“Eddie!” Wayne calls over his shoulder, “Steve’s here.”

In a flash, Eddie runs to the front door and practically bumps into his uncle.

“Come in!” he insists, wide-eyed as he looks past his shoulder at the falling snow.

And before Steve can even step in, Eddie is pulling him by his parka sleeve. He only just manages to scrape off his boots on the ‘Home Sweet Home’ adorned welcome mat.

“What some cocoa?” Eddie offers, eliciting a grumble from Wayne.

“I asked if you wanted some,” he chides.

“But Steve might want some,” Eddie grins.

“How about I heat up a pot now, and whoever wants some’s got it?” Wayne suggests, pursing his lips at Eddie and moving to the stove before his nephew can make any more requests.

“Follow me,” Eddie says, grabbing his hand, “I made cookies.”

He wiggles his brows and begins leading Steve to the kitchen.

As he is pulled along, Steve tries not to think about the fact that they are holding hands. Or how he wishes his fifteen-minute-ago Self had thought to bring an overnight bag and allowed himself to assume the Munsons would allow him to stay the night.

But it might be even harder to stop himself from squeezing his friend’s hand and lacing his fingers with Eddie’s.

Eddie lets go of his hand to gesture to the tray of Christmas-themed shapes, all looking a little too dark for gingerbread as they rest on the kitchen island.

“Pick one, Big Boy,” Eddie beams.

Steve reaches for a reindeer, flexing his fingers as he goes and commits the feeling of Eddie’s rings to memory.

“No!” Eddie shrieks, lightly smacking his hand enough that he drops it, leaving the cookie to snap in half as it falls back onto the tray, “His antlers are broken.”

“Christ, boy!” Wayne curses, stirring the pot on the stovetop.

Okay, a tree then…

“The star is missing!”

A bell?

“That was already snapped in half when I got them out of the oven”, Eddie admits with a tight-lipped smile.

Steve places his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes. To him, they all look at least a little crumbly – some he would even describe as lightly charred.

“How about you pick one for me then, Betty Crocker?” he chuckles.

Eddie giggles, twirling a lock of his hair as he carefully considers the tray of mostly broken, dry cookies.

He watches Eddie for a long enough time that Wayne pushes a mug into his hand, the warmth of Eddie’s hand remaining in place due to the heat of the cocoa. It’s a Chicago Cubs mug, one that he finds himself holding at some point each time he is here as if Wayne considers it Steve’s own.

He smiles for the first time in three days.

[byhees]

hidden love ━━ ( 엔하이픈 희승 ) ♡ genre fluff high school au potential bestfriends2lovers warnings not proof-read petnames light injury mention

thinking about heeseung, who has been your best friend throughout the entirety of middle school, and now, three whole quarters of high school— and oh, did i mention that you have a big crush on him?

i mean, the real question here is, how could you not?? he’s such a sweetheart, and he’s always, without fail, been able to cheer your horrible day up with his little antics. well, for starters, he always gets you an extra portion of his usual sandwich, leaving the little meal on your desk, an apple-shaped sticky note beside it— breakfast’s the most important part of the day, so don’t skip it, okay princess? like okay okay, first why is this so cute, second what’s with the princess omg…

and, he loves, absolutely adores, walking you to all your classes, despite his being on the opposite end of campus; his little, kinda clumsily executed, jokes are horrible at best, but my god, why’re you giggling so hard??? it has to be that adorable smile he flashes whenever he realises how nonsensical his sentences sound, his head lightly shaking with light embarrassment. yeah… it’s definitely that.

also, don’t get me started on how unbelievably caring he is; he’ll stay up with you whenever you’re studying— doesn’t matter if he’s about to pass out asleep right on the plastic chair, he’ll do that just for you. he does so to bring small snacks and drinks to you, suggesting to take a quick break every so often. and don’t underestimate him when he says that he’ll pick you up and carry you over to the nearest couch for a brief nap; your dark eye circles, and the frequent massaging of your aching shoulders aren’t fooling him.

no because he cares about your health so, so much— even more than his own at times. that one time when you both unknowingly ended up in the nurse’s office? he completely disregarded his stomach pain, walking over to you with panic-laced steps. even recalling the incident makes you laugh— the way he examined and treated your sprained ankle made it seem as though you’d fractured a few bones. but thinking back to all his little actions, your heart does flutter; the countless number of times he looks out for you, the little vitamin drinks he leaves by your table…

and why does he have the strongest sixth sense known to mankind?? that doesn’t really help, considering your budding feelings. you’d snatch the opportunity to just admire him, and he’d suddenly, coincidentally, look up from his open textbook, unintentionally locking gazes with you. “were you just staring at me?” no silly, i was mowing my lawn— of course i was!! and don’t point it out!?

also, he’s just the absolute cutest, most endearing person ever when he walks over to you, a little teddy bear in hand, on that one particular day— national favourite person day, that’s what he calls it, and to be completely honest, you have zero clue on what that may be, but this gesture really warms your heart. like stop being so cute with your cute smile and your cute stuffed animal…

it’s no doubt at this point that lee heeseung, that boy right over there who’s focused on taking notes, is your crush; your crush who’s completely oblivious as to how his small actions tug heavily at your heartstrings.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[tarjapearce]

Bad Teachings (Pt. 5)

Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

WARNINGS: Strained relationships, friendship starters, piercings, awkward truths. Slow Burn.

Summary: Relationships are weird. And truth isn't always kind. At least, you might have a friend.

(Might feel a bit boring, but we're building something here. 🥹)

Pt. 6

"OK. I've got one for you." —

—??

"What's the scariest plant?" —

You almost giggled into the reply in your head. It was another ridiculous joke, silly but science-y that upon reading it on a blog, you instantly thought on sending it to Miguel.

In the meantime while he replied, if he ever did that is, you kept on working in a new project. Despite the previous client complaining initially on the low numbers on her beauty product line, the numbers were making small changes in other states, giving a glimpse of hope in the team.

Your job itself at this marketing company, Searchbloom, was to make the briefs, office automation of said briefs and of course help prepare new campaigns for approved projects and important clients  such as celebrities, big companies, influencers and anyone with enough money to afford a complete market investigation.

Your phone buzzed as you finished another brief from a client.

—Red Tide or Algae Bloom. Really bad for marine ecosystems.

You blinked and shook your head at the little fact that you'd probably forget in the next hours. The giddyness of your comeback taking over once more.

Interesting. I thought it was the BamBOO!—

—Ever thought in going out more?

Damn.

Campy jokes were scratched off your list of things. You could picture in your head the reaction, dead, boring and possibly judging.

I'd need real friends for that(?) —

—Not a bad thing to be on your own, y'know?

Oh?

Swallowing at the dryness of your mouth, you finished the little brief, digitally signed it and sent it to another coworker in the other side of the office cubicles.

I know. But doing things on your own isn't always fun. I mean, I'd really love to go shopping, hanging out for lunch and the like with other people.—

His eyes squinted at your words on his screen

I mean we are social beings by nature, sadly, and as much as I'd like to keep doing things on my own, the making friends fever has taken over. —

—Trust me, don't rush things. They'll come to you in the right time.

Your brows arched in surprise at what you just read and pursed your lips in a tight smile.

I mean, I could ask you to hang out but I know you are a busy man. Plus, I gotta step a bit more out of my comfort zone, ever since I got out of college feels like the right time to start making little changes, can't be socially inadept forever, I guess? —

And I'm not sure if you'd actually be interested in such things, you're a workaholic, so yeah. Sorry for the long ass message. —

He hummed and his lip curled faintly upward

You should try it as well.—

—Got enough to live by. Thanks.

You actually give these "Leave me alone" sorta vibes 🤔—

—That pretty much sums it up.

Oh...

                                      I see—

Your heart gave a wobbly and doleful beat, eyes stuck in reading that sentence over and over again. You gulped laboriously the lump that had just formed in your throat.

He wasn't asking to be left alone, was he? Maybe he was actually hinting that you should leave him alone.

Oh no. No, no.

You hated assumptions. But he was pretty clear about the meaning of the message, right? Right?

Closing his chat log, you put your phone away and tried to pour yourself into work to little to no avail. Your brain felt like split in two, blooming headache biting at the back of your head. Week had just started.

You tried. You tried with all your might to keep the harrowing-thoughts at bay, but over thinking you ever old friend only made things trickier than intended. You barely wanted to look at your phone, cause what would you find there but implicit rejection? Even though the other part of you wanted to reach out, at usual.

Another cold realization. You were the one that always sparked the small and sparse conversations you had.

"... Fuck." Seeing your log of messages with him, offline, just made you cringe at how precisely you were acting and wanted to avoid be seen as. Clingy and desperate.

Gulping down, you pressed on the trash bin icon. Breath stilled for a second as you tapped on the 'Yes' confirmation button. He hadn't replied since yesterday.

Why would he anyways?

Question ghosting over your mind.

It wasn't that hard to process.

His words seemed to make sense now. The palpitations in your heart only made themselves clear further the more you thought about it.

God knows how long he had been waiting to say such things.

You grunted at your thoughts. The noise and unkind thoughts reverberating in your head, made your migraine to simmer to a higher level. You had barely slept as the whole situation was breaking piece by piece the little functionality you had left for the day.

But, tasked yourself with one thing, to not look at your phone through the day. A rather easy task since you only used it to check your little social media, watch funny things or videos that caught your interest.

The knitting and crocheting stash of videos in your gallery weren't enough to keep you distracted. So you had added a new category, city wandering for new spots. And four pm sounded like a good hour to actually start. 

And if wandering the city alone, after work to keep you busy from over thinking probable assumptions wasn't considered a hobbie, you certainly didn't know what else to call it.

So you finished work, clocked out and adventured yourself in the arts of local wanderlust. But of course traffic fucked throughly all chances of doing so. You went to the supermarket to grocery and toiletries shopping.

The situation had made you so oblivious to the fact that you needed to replace some basic stuff at home. Shampoo, toothpaste, conditioner, exfoliants.

You couldn't help but notice the coffee and grain aisle full of new products. Hazelnut lattes, cardamom and clove blends, brands you didn't even know that existed, some cheap, other expensive, and of course you took one in between. A small international sample blend.

Your card surely had died a little when you slid it to pay. Almost a houndred bucks in beauty products and another houndred and a bit more in groceries.

The groceries and toiletries were checked from the expenses list. To your little solace, Mr. Landlord was waiting for you with a man and another door.

You let them work, as you unpacked your things. At least you had a new door, a prettier yet still sturdy like the previous one.

Still, no message from Miguel.

----------

On Wednesday you tasked yourself with the same endeavor as yesterday. Not checking your phone. The videos in your "To watch" list were boring and annoying. Political propaganda, movie recommendation spams, mysoginistic stands ups, reactions to bizarre videos.

Nothing worthy to wasting your time on your lunch break. At least you would have the chance to wander the city on your own. You had noticed some work you had slacked, finished and other projects advanced. A perk you didn't think possible in the admist of chaos.

But why would you even congratulate yourself for doing something that was expected from you?

Right.

You clocked out and once more you went to the city. This time no traffic was there to stop you. Parking in a lot, you took your tote bag and walked. Getting comfy shoes to walk after work was added as a mental note. You stopped on a sidewalk.

Streets bustled with people walking like they were probably late to an appointment, Neon signs begun flashing their lights, adorning the streets with their different colors, different sort of aromas filled in your lungs. Pee, trash, hot dogs, sweets and bakery, perfumes, cigars, gas, weed somewhere.

An overwhelming start. You walked in the bakery's direction. To your surprise when crossing the street it was just a little mobile kiosk with choux pastries. Even though the products looked esthetically pleasing, the prices on the whiteboard underneath, made you turn in the opposite direction. And just then you found your first treasure.

Tea Bar. But not a gentrified-looking tea bar with over the top foliage decor with expensive furnace that charged you for just breathing their air. More like a tavern-esthetic sort of Tea bar named Julien's Potions.

Spices, herbs, and other pastries, rested within funky shaped glass containers, the clerk was also into a sort of role-playing that added a little charm to the place. Hand carved wooden tables and chairs littered strategically the small local. Six tables max. The art on the walls was minimalistic, yet still added to the overall layout in the place.

Prices were significantly much more affordable and the little treat you got, a red berries cold brew tea and Mango muffin, we're exquisite. It gave you enough energy boost to return at the parking lot. Of course you took some pictures of the place.

You felt proud. Your first solo adventure had been wonderful.

On Thursday you had ran into a little fancy liqueur shop. Ironically as it was, alcohol and you didn't get along, but the different labels, the shape of the bottles, the year of brewing, the array of sizes and prices, the origin place, made it all too pretty for you to ignore. There were bottles that surely would  cost at least five months worth of your paycheck.

Friday was a busy day at work and of course you just went home. On Sunday you had found a well hidden treasure, a bakery. This time, you took more pictures of the different pastries you had never seen before. Petit fours intricately adorned with such precision you wondered if they had a special machine for it.

Puff creams, chocolate croissants, pain au chocolate, Buttery buns that made you salivate. It kinda brought you back to the baking school sales, your mom's peach gallete and strawberry tarts were popular, and  the only two recipes you knew by heart. The rest, long forgotten and replaced with new hobbies' knowledge.

-------

A week and a half had been exactly gone by, and not looking at your phone had been easier than you had thought. You had discovered a few more places to add to your personal list. A crystal and esoterism shop, where you bought lavender incense. A little thift shop where you got a lovely and fashionable champagne colored trench coat. And today, you kinda wondered where you'd take yourself on a Friday evening

This time you hoped to find a knitting shop. Starting a new hobby meant to invest in it. And your cheap wools had ran out as you were learning the basics of knitting. After work, you'd park your car in a spot of the parking lot, but to your surprise it was closed early. So you drove until you'd find another, nearby the thrift shop you had found. Open 24/7.

You walked east, the bustle of the city wasn't as loud in some parts of it. You gave the thrift shop's clerk a brief smile before continuing down the street. To your surprise there was a Tattoo and Piercing studio. A.F.A.U.'s Emporium. Sid Vicious' voice reverberating through the place the closer you approached.

Your eyes widened upon seeing none other than Hobie on the front desk, organizing a bunch of guitar cords. The place was divided in two. To the left there was the tattoo artists and piercing cubicles. To the right, apparels and other handicrafts were neatly displayed before anyone that actually took the time in looking.

Walls painted in jet black, with a dim white grunge texture as a decor. Pictures of protests, famous singers that made a significant impact on society through their subversive forms of expressions were hung on the wall.

Jello Biafra, Kathleen Hanna, Patti Smith, David Vanian, to name a few, along some bands logos spray painted in some spaces.

A stark contrast with your well dressed for the system-look. Hobie arched a brow at you and chuckled.

"Got lost in the way, birdie?"

You shook your head as you kept looking around.

"I was wandering the city, actually found this place by mere coincidence. Looks pretty cool."

"Humbly"

"You work here?"

He sneered and shook his head.

"I owe it. Me and many others, actually. I'm just the face fo' it."

"What does... AF..."

"Anti Fascist Artist United." He sniffed as his lip twitched.

Your eyebrows rose and you glanced over the piercing cubicles.

"So ya just... wander in the city and see what happens?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Cool. But dangerous."

"I never go too deep in the city just... the outsides. Don't want to fuck around to find out what's in store for me." you chuckled, Hobie followed.

He tucked his hands on his pockets and walked over you, he motioned to follow him.

"How come every time we met you turn cooler?"

He shrugged and took you to the handicrafts.

"You did them?"

"No. My work's on the other side. These are made by local artist that are involved one way or the other in tryin'to get mo' spaces for people that actually bring a change into community."

"So all of this Merch..."

"Ain't free, that fo'sure."

You giggled

"No, I mean, You just rented this place to give other people a space to offer their art and goods without charging them?"

"Nah. they do pay a small quota, meaning, they can come and clean up, organize shite. Government pays the rent, they get full profit of their thingies. Everyone's happy."

"And the tattoo part?"

He smirked and shrugged.

"Government pays the rent, so... puttin' that to good use."

Your eyes widened slightly and you just nodded.

"Might need a bit of that smart for myself."

"You gotta shape it, birdie. Anyways, what brings ya here besides, yer 'wanderlust'?"

You sighed and shook your head.

"Been wandering the city on my own to try and distract me from something that is messing me up. Just glad I found a familiar face after almost two weeks of random strangers."

"Life's a bitch, innit?"

You nodded and went through the merchandise. T shirts with trippy designs, Pottery in fruit shaped bowls, handcrafted watercolors and painting supplies and of course, knitting tools. Your grabbed a couple of  wools and paid him to take  the small bundle with you.

"So what yer' here for?"

You looked up at him and sighed

"I'm trying to make friends on my own."

"How's that going?".

You shrugged and a humorless laugh came out your mouth.

"I mean... ever since college... way even before that, actually-" You looked up and scratched your neck awkwardly when he gave you his seizing stare.

"Sorry. Don't wanna bore you with my ramblings."

"Haven't said nuffin'" He sat across you and looked at your fumbling hands. The music had died down a bit.

"Saw yer door being replaced."

"Oh yeah. I'm glad I'm not getting stuck anymore." You looked at him and chuckled.

"Whut?"

"Do you always stare at people like you're judging their choices?"

"Yeah. Makes it funnier when they get all squeamish. Like ye."

"I'm not squeamish."

He arched an eyebrow and you both chuckled.

"Can I ask your age?"

"So ya can feel a Lil'more glum for what you might have or haven't achieved so far?"

"My thoughts exactly." you shrugged with a silent laugh.

"24."

"Ah, yeah. I can already feel the disappointment."

"A too well dressed disappointment"

"Is that why you call me... uh... runway girl?"

"No. Glam life, glam dressing, glam job. Runway sort of shite, so runway girl. Been there, done that. Not fo' me."

You didn't know whether to feel offended or laugh at his assumptions. Everyone was assuming lately.

"My life is anything but glam, Hobie. Just work enough to keep appearances. Something that my job also requires from me."

"That's why the name is perfect for ya"

"It's boring."

He pursed his pierced lips in mild derision

"Graduated uni?"

you nodded.

"Found a job of what you did study for?" Again, you nodded and sighed.

He chuckled.

"Still, you're just assuming. My life is boring. Really. One would think that working in branding companies offers you alot. But it's just another fancy way to say you're-"

"Another workforce for da capitalism?"

You chuckled and shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess. And people think I actually hang out with celebrities-"

"You don't?" He snorted and you frowned

"See?! You were assuming things! And no. It's rare when I actually meet someone famous. I basically make resumes of what they want, how they want it and make it come true. And if I ever meet them means no good. And still I have to dress up like I'm interviewing someone important."

" A wish maker, then. Might call ye Fairy."

" Sounds less brash than Runway girl actually."

" So lemme get this, you graduated uni, are working on something you actually prepared yourself for, dress up like an expensive doll, but... ya wander the city alone tryin' to make friends? "

"Sounds a bit more depressing and pathetic when you put it that way." He tittered at your words.

"Sounds like you're just living by."

"Yeah. That's been a recurrent feeling, even before college."

"What do ye want?"

"Uh... what?"

"Like, yer acting like yer living the life some dream of, but have the life some hate. That leaves ye in the middle. What do ya want?"

"Right now? I'd like a hug and be told everything, at least up here" You pointed at your head, "Will be fine. But since life is a bitch, I wanna get my ears pierced actually."

His smile was satisfied.

"That's a start innit?"

"Yeah... just realized that ever since college, I... didn't get the chance to do a lot of things."

"Uni seems like the dementor of people's dreams. Even worse if it's private." You chuckled and nodded. He motioned for you to follow to the front desk.

"Both ears?"

"Nah, just my right one for the moment."

"A'ight. Pick one, it's on me."

You looked at him with excited eyes, he just smiled.

"This one. It looks soo cool and it's stylish." You went for a triple helix hoop in your upper lobe.

"Golden, silver or colored?"

"Uh... golden."

He prepared his working area. Your chest felt a bit less constricting.

-----

The first thing you  did when coming home, besides giving Hobie a ride and greeting his mom on the hallway and getting a random invitation for afternoon tea, was to look at your new body modification on the mirror. Golden 6 mm hoops adorned your ear. You couldn't help but feel giddy and a little sore. Hobie was careful, and he was a pro at it.

Your phone had been buzzing nonstop hours ago. You made a quick dinner for yourself out of the left overs. You then took a shower and changed into your pjs, TV remote on hand, The Diary of Bridget Jones ready to play for the third time, when the notification sound dinged. You groaned.

Your thumbs padded and scrolled through the logs. Some were from the work's group chat reviewing the week's assignments, others from your social media announcing new videos for you to watch, your ex college classmates uploading new photos, and something more unexpected.

Miguel's name on the bottom of your notifications. It was almost comical how you had to rub your eyes and make a double take to confirm that it was him. He had messaged you. Your heart skipped a beat. Your thumb hovering on the unread text, like if reading it would make the room to suddenly explode.

You pressed on it and all you could do was blink almost stupidly at it's contents.

—If you're done giving me the silent treatment drop by on sunday. Need your help.

---------

Taglist:

@yeyrpp2 @zaddyskye69 @gejo333 @bigbassbug @daddylorianisastateofmind @namjooningera @d1lf-loverrr @amb3rrz @xantic0101 @niyanispunk

[megachaoticstupid]

Earthly delights

Huge thank you's to @her-satanic-wiles for bearing with me when i whined to her about this fic, to @gothdaddyissues for the amazing and beautiful dividers and to @foxybouquet for her masterlist of all the phrases and terms of endearment spoken in Italian. I used a lot of them in my fic. Also, please be nice, english is not my first language, so typos and mistakes are inevitable. And, this is my first smut, so, i hope you all will enjoy it 😊 Secondo was always diligent when it came to his duties as the Papa of the Satanic church, and you always respected it. But, when you learnt that upon his return, he already burrowed himself in loads of work, you decided to help him to relax a little bit.

Tags: p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this in real life), creampie, semi-public space (they are in his office), afab!reader, dry humping, fingering, fully clothed\fully naked sex, overall smut, usage of google translate in some places (two sentences) Words count: 4580

He sits in the quiet of his office having finally returned from his tour. Load of work piling up on his desk, reminding him of all of the months of his absence, making him grunt in displeasure and irritating him to no end. He did well on the tour, making the flock of his ministry grow considerably, improving what his brother did before him and now his reward is piles and piles of workload and the requirement to make a report on all of the money spent during his tour. He tuts. He really hates to work on his taxes, let alone to answer to Sister Imperatour about all of his spending habits.

His irritation is palpable when you walk in into his office, tray in your arms and a light, warm smile on your lips.

“Good evening, Papa” you say, walking closer to him

Secondo only grunts in return, scanning through the paper in from of him, reading glasses on the tip of his nose. He doesn’t even look at you, as you come closer and finally stand near him. On other days he wouldn’t even let you walk after his return from tour, catching up on all of the days he couldn’t kiss you, suck you, fuck you. But now all of that passion was given to his papers and, even though you have always respected his work, today you just can’t help it.

You set the tray right on his desk in the middle of his work. His favourite bucatini all'amatriciana and a cup of espresso were lovingly prepared by you and now waited for him to notice. Grabbing a comfortable chair near the window and dragging it to his desk, you sit down and just stare at him. He always loved to call you his kitten and now you decide to behave like one, sitting and looking at him, silently demanding his attention. After a few minutes of very uncomfortable silence, he breaks his focus and turns to you, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. His stern look softens for a minute and he looks at you lovingly

“Bambina, I am busy, what do you want?”

You smile at him, caressing his cheek with a free hand and say “For starters, I really want you to eat. Siblings told me that you haven’t yet”

There is a silence as he mules over your words and you can see stubbornness in his eyes. He looks tired, paints cracking at the corners of his eyes and mouth and there is a smudge at the bridge of his nose, where he, no doubt, pinched it, trying to compose himself or irritated at some reports and numbers. Secondo looks at you, catching your gaze and sighs, avoiding your words.

“You look really tired today, bambina. Did something happen? Has work been hard on you today?”

“I had to cover for two Siblings, they fell ill. And then I cooked something for the grumpiest papa in the world and now he refuses to eat.”

You sigh, obviously teasing him, edging slightly to make him feel guilty. And it works, his features soften, a shade of guilt crosses them and he says gently, taking the cup of espresso and removing his glasses.

“Mi scusi, gattina, you know how it is difficult for me to be cared for, si? Grazie, thank you. I really appreciate it, but you shouldn’t have worried about me, you better rest after the long day”

“And let my Papa sit here alone, angry and hungry?”

You tease him even more, trying to pry from him the needed reaction and finally you receive it. He rolls his eyes, takes the sip of espresso and grumbles approvingly, enjoying the bitter drink, made just the way he loves. Secondo looks at you and motions for you to come closer and sit on his lap and you oblige, seemingly happy to finally be with him after all of the long days and months apart. His arm snakes around your waist pulling you even closer to him, while he finishes his drink. Putting aside the cup, he looks at you with affection and cups your cheek, gently stroking tender skin under his gloved fingers.

“So, la mia gattina made all of this for her Papa, si? Mi scusi, I was too preoccupied with work, bambina. Let me finish it and I will eat it okay?”

He asks tenderly, reaching out for the papers, you sitting on his lap give him all the motivation in the world to finish the report. But you are not having it, frowning at him and taking his face in your hands

“If you will not eat right now, you will see all of your stupid papers on fire, hear me, love?”

At your little threat something quickly flashes in his eyes, his grip on your waist tightens. A smirk appears on his lips.

“Who would have thought that la mia gattina would become a fierce lioness, if I will not eat. Maybe, I should start starving myself to face your wrath more often, hm?’

He smiles at you teasingly and your cheeks flush. You know very well what happens when you show your temper. Your thighs tighten to give you some friction as you core becomes warmer. But it can wait. You sigh, look at him and turn to the plate on his table, gathering food on the fork and bringing it to his lips. Secondo doesn’t protest, obediently opening his mouth. You both continue this for some time in the quiet of his room, interrupted only by the fork clacking against the plate and the rustle of your habit, while his hands relearn the feel of your body. All of your curves and tender spots are gently teased and cupped by him, making you frustrated and wanting more with each second while his face remains stoic and uninterested. You know that this is all a play that will lead you to fun, so you ignore it, continuing your task.

When you are finished, he looks at your tenderly, with a hint of mischief in his eyes, work long forgotten in your presence:

“Thank you, gattino, it was delicious.”

He looks at you, as if you the only ever light in his life, as if he lives only for you, and you melt under his gaze. Tenderly, he cups your cheek and brush it, lovingly, gently. And then in a next second, Secondo kisses you, holding you as if in any minute you will disappear. His kisses are tender, growing hungry for you with every passing second. He licks you bottom lip and slightly bites it, asking for invitation you give so readily. Even if you both didn’t want things to escalate this quickly, your pent-up longing and love for each other, which only increased during all of those long days of not seeing each other, get the upper hand. And now your tongues swirl around each other, and you know that no desperate phone call cannot make up for the feeling of his arms around your body, while he devours you.

His hand plays with the hem of your habit, not sliding under it, but still teasing you, taunting even. He draws small circles on your soft thigh. A devilish smirk plays on his lips, while he watches you squirming in his lap, knowing well enough how he affects you. His other arm slips down from your face and now lightly cupping your breast, teasing tender nipples under all of the layers on you. Too much layers to his opinion. His lips leave yours, find your neck and start exploring tender skin underneath them, sucking it and sometimes nibbling on it, leaving a trail of small hickeys. You whimper at each nibble, his every caress setting your body on fire, throwing fuel to your never-ending desire for him.

As your cries for him get louder, he nudges you to move slightly and you obey quickly. Your back now is flush against his chest, thighs hanging on other sides of his legs, leaving your cunt fully open to his touch, save only for your underwear. You shudder in anticipation when he slides his gloved hand between your legs, chuckling when he hears a squelching sound against the leather.

“Sei così bagnata per me, bambina.” He cooes. “So ready for your Papa, eh?”

You only whine in response and buck your hips when he starts teasing your clit. The sight of you, so desperate for him and for his touch, boosts his ego. Secondo presses on your clit slightly harder, going in circular motions and ripping from you moan after moan. His other hand tugs at your habit, gently raising it and revealing your body inch after inch, pulling it over your head and discarding it somewhere on the floor of his office. The cool air makes you shiver and covers you in goosebumps, you feel how your nipples harden under your bra, both from arousal and cold air.

As soon as you are in your underwear, Secondo latches on your skin, leaving sloppy kisses along your shoulders, breathing in your sent and humming happily, finally feeling at home. You are his everything and finally you are once again in his arms and no thanks to him. Secondo feels the need to apologize and the only way for him to do that is to bring you a lot of pleasure. His hand is still on your clothed, soaked core, playing with your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the sweet release. You haven’t seen him for so long, that now even this light foreplay can bring you to orgasm really fast. Your own hand flies to his over your mound, clutching it, not knowing whether you want him to stop or finish you off faster. Your nails are digging into the leather and drawing a hiss from his lips

“La mia gattina is that desperate already?” he purrs in your ear and then nibbles on your earlobe, drawing another loud whimper from you. “So desperate that she harms her poor Papa, who tries so much to please her? It hurts me so much, amore”

Secondo says in a mock worry and hurt, but you don’t answer, too caught up in the moment, whimpering for him. He tsks playfully and speeds up slightly while you buck your hips against his hand, trying to chase the pleasure. You feel him growing deliciously hard against the strains of his slacks underneath his papal robes. You feel bratty today, encouraged by his attention, so you decide to give him a little bit of friction. Still bucking your hips against his hand and you grind your ass on his hard cock. He groans. His grip on your waist gets tighter and then slides up to your breast, pulling up your bra and teasing your nipple, pinching it slightly, gently pulling on your breast. You cry out, fully resting against him, your head buried in his neck, as you get closer and closer to your impending orgasm.

“Please, Papa, harder. I need it.”

You sound desperate enough to please him and he does just as you ask. Focusing fully on your clit with his thumb, he slides middle and forefinger to your entrance lightly nudging it and swiping your clothed folds. He sucks on the skin of your neck again and bites on it a little bit harder than before. And it was the push you needed, the knot in your stomach releasing and you cry out in pleasure, hips still bucking to prolong this chase and your head throwing further back to his shoulder in pure bliss. Secondo talks you through it, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and kissing your neck tenderly.

As you calm down from your high, he helps you to get up slightly on your wobbly legs, pulling your underwear down your legs and sitting you back on his lap. Your breath hitches when skilled hand snakes to your entrance and stops here. He grunts and then pulls his hand to your mouth and whispers into your ear. His voice is laced with lust and temptation, making you think about the ancient serpent deceiver, holding up an apple for Eve

“Come on gattino, do what you always love to do. Bite”

And you do just like that, biting in the glove, feeling the taste of your own release on your tongue as he frees his hand. He takes it from your mouth, gently swiping a finger on your lips and reaches once again to your waiting core. You part your legs wider, resting one of the feet on his desk. Your core is dripping for him, previous orgasm makes your cunt gush your juices further down on his papal robes, making a mess out of him. And he loves it. You are a mess only because of him, whimpering and shaking for him, boosting his ego and making him feel the urge to praise you and feel the desire to prove his worth for you, to worship you. Gently opening your folds and gathering your slick on his finger, he brings it his mouth and hungrily licks it clean with a moan.

“Perfetta”

He hums, as you whine from the loss of contact. Secondo chuckles and kisses your neck soothingly.

“Patience, amore, I am starved”

He continues your torment, swiping your slick and pulling it into his mouth, as if he is dying of thirst and hunger, licking up his fingers clean just to dive down again and get another swipe. To him you are the most delicious and enticing dessert and he can’t get enough of it. All the while, you are a whimpering mess, sitting on his lap, with legs opened wide and grinding on his cock, trying to get back at him for teasing you so much. He humps on you back, moaning slightly, still cleaning you up with his fingers, his free hand rests on your waist and squeezes it slightly. And only after he feels that you are clean enough and ready for a second round, Secondo kisses your shoulder and gets closer to your entrance. You feel how he finally slides his middle finger inside of you, your walls instantly clenching around it and he starts moving.

He works you up perfectly, setting up a nice pace and you can’t help but moan louder and louder, the foot of his palm rubbing on your clit. The pain from the overstimulation brings you pleasure and makes you roll your eyes. You hiss, moving hips in rhythm with his hand. His office is filled with wet sounds, your moans and his grunts. This cacophony of sounds is so loud, that you are sure that if whoever decides to stand behind the door, would hear everything and it turns you on even more. You clench harder around his finger and he immediately adds another one, stretching you nicely, preparing you for him.

“So good for me, gattino, so fucking tight”

He cooes into your ear and continues his assault on your core. Your vision blurs from sensations, tears of pleasure are running down your face, smudging your mascara, leaving black traces on your cheeks. He takes you by the throat, dragging you closer to him, slightly choking you to heighten your pleasure. You whine, your orgasm building up faster than the previous one and you feel his third now finger inside of you, filling you up. Your nails dig into his arms and the back of his neck, trying to get him closer to you, as if you wanted to merge with him. Secondo nibbles on your earlobe slightly and whispers to you, ignoring slight pain

“Give me another one, amore. I want you to cum, please”

And you do that again, your body too pent up to disobey and tease him at this point. This orgasm hits you harder, making your legs shake and reaping out of you almost pornographic moans of pleasure. Your chest moves heavily, as you try to breathe deeper and slower, coming down from the high of the climax. Secondo holds you tenderly, leaving gentle kisses on your shoulders and face, drawing soothing circles on your skin to help you to calm down.

Once your senses return to you, you turn to him and bring his face closer to you in a lingering kiss, showing him how much you love him and how you missed him so. The remnants of his papal turn into a complete grey mess around his mouth. You break the kiss just to face him fully, straddling his hips and kissing him once again, more passionately. Now, you take the initiative in your hands, biting on his bottom lip, silently asking for him to open his mouth. Secondo moans, hands gripping your waist as he opens his mouth greeting your tongue with his. Your hands gently hold his face, brushing his cheeks and smudging the sides further. You know how much he hates wearing paints and smile into the kiss, knowing very well that he will grumble later reapplying his makeup. Your hands slide down to his shoulders and down his robes, tugging at the fabric and pulling it apart, fingers brushing against his white shirt. Breaking the kiss, your look at him, smiling with mock frustration.

“My Papa wears so many layers”

You pout and pull down his robes slowly, looking him in the eyes. Secondo doesn’t move, letting you do whatever you want with him, closing his beautiful mismatching eyes, when your fingers touch his neck accidently. You open his shirt button by button a bit hurriedly almost tearing them from the fabric, too greedy to tease him properly and rile him up. You lean down to him, kissing his neck, breathe in the scent of his perfume lingering on his skin and pulling down his shirt further. You see his chest, covered in hair, his soft tummy and strong arms and filled with such a relief of finally seeing him, with tenderness and deep love that you can’t help the tears to well up. Secondo’s face suddenly changes from pleased to concerned, hands cupping you face gently, wiping away few stray tears from your cheeks.

“Amore, what’s wrong? Was I rough to you?’

His voice is gentle, his expression soft and he is ready to stop if you are not in a mood anymore. But you place your hands upon his and shake your head, slightly embarrassed of your tears.

“Sorry, love, I am just so happy, that you are back. I missed you so much.”

“Ti amo, tesoro. Anche tu mi sei mancato e ti amo così tanto. Ringrazio Lucifero per ogni giorno che trascorri con me, separato o no”

He tells you back, feeling vulnerable and immediately switching to his mother tongue. You don’t understand all of which he is saying, but his tone and love in his eyes are enough for you to lean down on his forehead, hugging him close to you. Both of you stay still for a moment, enjoying the closeness, the warmth of your embrace.

As you calm down, Secondo starts peppering your face in small kisses: your eyes, cheeks, the tip of the nose – everything is paid attention to. Finally, he kisses your lips, showering you with his own feelings and a few pleased grunts, his thumb stroking your cheek as he does an you sigh contently, snuggling up to him. Your lips brush each other tenderly, lovingly, savouring the moment of intimacy. After several longing kisses, he parts with you, once again resting his forehead against yours, his arms are holding you close, making you feel safe and secure with him.

“We can stop-“ you don’t let him finish the sentence, placing your fingers upon his mouth and shaking your head.

“And leave you with a raging boner? I am not so cruel, love”

You chuckle, leaning to him and kissing him more passionately and he happily obliges, placing his hands on your hips and squeezing them. Your hands are on his chest, scratching lightly the skin under his fuzzy hair, earning his grunt of approval. Soft fingers tracing down his body, caressing the skin, following the happy trail and finally stopping the edge of his slacks. Now, you don’t hurry, relearning his body anew, all of his wrinkles, bumps and scars are newly etched into your memory, as you touch your lover, who does the same with you. I gently strip his from his shirt, while he unclasps your bra and put it away. With a slight tug his belt is unbuckled, the zipper and then slacks are pulled down enough to release his briefs his cock straining against the fabric, staining it with drops of precum.

You smile, a string of pride coursing through your body, even after several years together you still feel happy to see how much he wants you. Kissing him again, you palm him through the briefs, earning a hiss and a gentle slap on your ass from him. With a giggle, you free him from the restraints and pump him his several times, swiping the finger over the tip to gather his precum as a lube. He moans and hisses under you, gripping your thighs so hard, you are sure they will be bruised. You stop briefly and spit on your hand to lube him up perfectly without any pain.

As you pump him with one hand, you squeeze his balls slightly, timing your movements and look at him. Secondo looks deliciously sinful: eyes glazed with last as he looks at you and your body, drool gathering in the corner of his mouth, his bucking up so that he can get more pleasure and the most pleasant moans and grunts spilling from his lips. To him you look like the most seductive temptress, a succubus in the flesh sent by the Satan to reward or punish him, whichever you choose. Your hands continued to pump him, trailing down the whole length of the shaft, squeezing it the way he loves and leaving him desperate for more. You love how needy he looks, how he gropes your body wherever he can reach, leaving red marks from gripping your supple flesh too tight sometimes, overcome with sensations. You lean down and pepper his soft skin of the neck with kisses, sometimes sucking on it, leaving marks. Your lips are stained black from the papal paints. You feel the heat pulling once again in your core, making you even wetter for him.

He gets more needy under your touch, hips bucking into your palm, cock twitching and you know that he soon will reach the orgasm. Slowly, your hand stills on his length, reaping from him a grunt in protest and a heavy glare. You take his face in your hands, looking him in the eyes and move closer to him, so that his tip is close to your entrance. He eyes flicker from grumpiness to pure lust, as he holds you close, feeling your cunt dripping on his tip.

“Sei così bagnata per me” Secondo murmurs. “Senti che duro che sono per te. Ti voglio fottere”

He almost forces the words out of him, fighting the urge to kiss you and just pull you down on his cock. You smile at him, propping your hands on his shoulders, while he lines up himself with your entrance and pushes you down slowly, burying his face in your chest and moaning slightly. You moan with him, feeling his cock inching deeper and deeper inside of you, he stretches you out completely, making you feel excitingly full. As he bottoms out, you both stay still for a moment, adjusting to new sensations and after that you start rolling your hips. The tip of his cock hitting the sweet spot with every movement, your walls are tight against his girth, squeezing him and fluttering around him. Secondo rolls his hips in rhythm with yours, one of his hands snakes between you, rubbing your clit to bring you to orgasm, while he leans to your chest, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking on it.

“S-secondo!”

You whimper desperately, your head falls back and you fasten your movements. He grips your hips tightly, picking up almost a ruthless pace and helping you bounce on him, his thumb never leaving your clit, rubbing it in circles, bringing you closer and closer to the orgasm. You feel him twitching inside of you, as he moans breathlessly under you, moving almost painfully hard and fast. The room is once again full of your moans and slaps of skin against skin. You lower abdomen tightens, as he switches your nipples, sucking on another, flicking his tongue on your sensitive bud. Your grip his shoulders tightly, digging nails in them and with a loud moan reach your climax. Your body shudders, back arching and your legs trembling, his hands supporting you, while he pumps his cock in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm almost to the point of overstimulation. You know that Secondo always needs a push, so you raise your head slightly and whisper into his ear:

“Please, Papa, fill me up. I want your cum so much.”

And these words finally push him over the edge. His hips startle, breaking the rhythm, and in two long strokes of his cock, he stills and spills inside of you, painting your walls white. You both sit still, catching your breathe and hugging each other in the bliss of an orgasm. You feel his dick softening inside of you and squirm slightly, both of you whimper too overstimulated. He stills your movements, tightening his grip on your hips and burrows his face in the crook of your neck

“Stay still, amore”

He murmurs, lips brushing on your skin and his arms snake around your waist to bring you closer to him, squeezing you like a stress toy. You sit comfortably in his arms, too fucked out to do anything else than let him stroke your hair and your back, soft praises leaving his lips and sloppy kisses left on your skin. Once you come to your senses, he helps you to dress up, making you look as proper as he can and then fixes his clothes as well. Pulling you into his lap, Secondo kisses you on the nose, smiling softly.

“Okay, gattina, I need to finish the report and after that, I am going to make sure you are not going to walk properly for two weeks. Deal?”

You smile at him back, making yourself comfortable in his lap and putting your head on his shoulder

“Sounds like a plan”

Translations from Italian:

Mi scusi – I am sorry

Gattina\La mia gattino – kitten\ my kitten

Grazie – thank you

Bambina – baby

Sei così bagnata per me, bambina. - So wet for me already, Bambina

Perfetta – perfect

Amore – love

Ti amo, tesoro. Anche tu mi sei mancato e ti amo così tanto. Ringrazio Lucifero per ogni giorno che trascorri con me, separato o no – I love you, my treasure. I missed you too and love you so much. I thank Lucifer for every day you spend with me, separated or not.

Sei così bagnata per me. Senti che duro che sono per te. Ti voglio fottere – You are so wet for me. Feel how hard I am for you. I want to fuck you.

[magewritesstories]

I’m not sure if you write for this version of this character in particular but I saw you did an incorrect quote for Harry Osborn, and I was wondering if you could do tasm 2 version Harry Osborn headcanons like a dating him includes?

Harry Osborn // Dating Headcanons

Note: ofc, ofc I would love to share some hc's (btw AU where he doesn't have the Goblin Disease) TW: mentions of fighting, possessiveness (but not in the Wattpad mafia way y'know)

okay so for starters, buckle up for enemies to lovers office romance

but it's one-sided; you dislike him, 'cause y'know he's kinda an asshole, but he just likes teasing you and doesn't actually mean anything he says

after a very drunk confrontation at an office party, you tell him you think he's an absolute asshole, and how much you hate working for him

after a while it just devolves to stupid things you dislike, like the way you hate that he drinks black coffee or that he has to have take-out all the time, or that he just randomly cancels meetings for no apparent reasons

the next day, you just find a box of chocolates on your desk

after that it's a little more smooth sailing

after a few months— which is enough time for harry to fully mourn the death of his dad— things start getting better

he's fully taken over as CEO of oscorp and proven to everybody, that despite the fact that he's young, he's still a good businessman

i imagine it's been a year, and now that you're both fully adjusted to the job, things start getting a little more spicy

at first you don't even notice the change; he puts down a cup of coffee— you're favourite order— on your desk when he arrives at the office, or he asks you to join him in eating take-out when you two are the only ones left in the office after a long day

then it escalates, you complain about the old coffee machines, and he has them replaced, or you offhandedly mention the fact that one of the lifts is always out of order, and the next day you see some poor mechanics who've been working at it all night walk past you, complaining about how much of hardass the "baby osborn" is

your friend is the one that mentions it first; "hey, weren't you complaining about those yesterday?"

at first you just shrug it off, he was being a good boss, so what?

but after a while, it gets into your head anyway

i mean, there are only so many sentences with a flirty undertone a girl can take

so, being you, you decide to outright ask him

"are you flirting with me?"

"i have been for the past three months, but thanks for noticing."

after that he just gives you one of those typical harry osborn smirks and walks off, hands in his pockets 'n everything

Once you guys actually start dating though, he's a total sweetheart

His love languages are most definitely gift giving (giving) and physical touch (receiving)

Speaking of, you bet you're closet goes from being worth 200$ to being worth 8000$ within weeks

It starts off as small things, a cup of coffee on him, or some dinner in the office, just the two of you

But it escalates quickly

By the time you're three month anniversary rolls around, he's bought you just about the entire Jimmy Choo collection, and your amazon wishlist

He remembers everything you tell him, from the fact that you love a certain colour or dislike a certain food, he'll definitely remember

When you tell him you feel bad about the amount of money he spends on you, he just shrugs it off

besides you can pay him back by wearing that Victoria's Secret gift he got you a few weeks ago

Princess treatment all the way

The entire thing, holds your bags, opens the door, has his card out and has paid before you even reach for your wallet

Just loves spoiling you

Dates are usually one of two things:

One: Super extravagant, oh there's this cool restaurant in LA you want to check out when you go there? He has two tickets booked, and he's written it in his agenda for next saturday

Two: Super chill weekend in. The two of you just relax, watch some movies, have breakfast in bed, maybe even some pillow forts if he's feeling fancy, and of course, pillow fights that somehow always end up in make-out sessions

Extremely touch-starved, so will have his hands on you all the time

And he isn't even ashamed about it

Like, y'all will be at dinner, and he'll casually put an arm around your shoulder and pull you closer to him, to the point that you're almost in his lap

"Harry, we're in public!"

"So?"

"People are staring!"

"I reiterate: So?"

Just a sweetheart in general, he loves you and he isn't ashamed of it at all

But of course, there are some downsides too

For starters, he's very unaware of just how privileged he is

He doesn't do it on purpose though, he really doesn't mean to seem like an arrogant jerk. But it just shows

For example, this one time, there was a super sale at Costco, and you were super excited to tell him, and he just stared at you like, "What's the big deal??"

You'd think hanging out with Peter would make him realize that not everyone has the same chances and problems growing up

It gets annoying sometimes, like how he just shrugs off employees overworking themselves with a "So, if they're so stressed, just take a day off."

He's trying though

Secondly, he's extremely possessive, so he gets jealous super easily

For example, the two of you will be at one of his rich people gala's—as you very fondly call them— and this random guy will have a chat with you, normal conversation, but with an obvious flirty undertone

And he'll get very annoyed

"Why didn't you tell him you had a boyfriend?" *insert pout*

"Harry, we were talking about the stock market, where would I just casually add that piece of information?"

He's annoyed for the rest of the night, as well as the car ride home— in which you tell him he's being childish— but the moment you get home he just sighs and tells you he's sorry for overreacting

Those fights usually turn into long night conversations, with tea and blankets

He also has the habit of forgetting dates

This is usually when there's a big project presentation coming up and he's nervous

Usually you don't mind, after all, you've seen first hand how brutal the board can be

But sometimes it's just a little too much, and all the other little things that have been bothering the two of you blow up into one big fight

You're both very stubborn so it just turns into a waiting game of who'll give in first

If he's the one who gives in, he usually turns up at your door with a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers and your favourite chocolates

Definitely the type to drive across the city to get you that one sweet, from that one shop you really like

If you're the one to give in, he'll just pout, and tell you he's still mad

He already gave in the moment you walked in though

He just likes to tease you, but after the third sorry he feels bad and tells you he's sorry for neglecting you too

He likes the idea of communication, and he's trying to get better at it

But when he can't find the words, he just defaults back to buying you stuff

That's how his dad always fixed stuff, so it's the only way he knows

But he tries, because it's you and you deserve nothing less than the best

[dozing-marshmallow]

~VISITING CHRIS MCLEAN IN JAIL~

(Months in his sentence.)

It was quite scary, walking down the aisle of inmates. You made sure to stick close to the guard escorting you to Chris’ cell. The place reeked of alcohol and sweaty bodies, flaming your nostrils, making you solely rely on your mouth for breathing. So much rubbish was thrown between floors, loud chattering from other prisoners bursted the air. Walking down, you heard too many lewd comments passing about you. 

Yikes...

Further down, you could recognise Chris’ laughter.

”How has he been doing?”

The guard thought it better to show you.

There he was. Your favourite man in tangerine.

Rather than metal bars, he was behind transparency. Isolation?...

God, he was meant to be a prisoner, not have his ravishing lifestyle still concur because he happened to have money. His wealth was as self absorbed as he was, needing to radiate everywhere, even in a time where it was simply not enough to save him. In comparison to the single bed and toilet most imprisoned busybodies were limited to, for starters, there on his wall was four portraits, two of them being of the island, one being himself, the other one being the wedding day. That may have been the most selfless act he’s done yet. We then have his toy statues of himself, you and Chef on his shelf, too self promoting to be part of the utilities of the prison...and two rolls of toilet paper. Some prisoners are lucky to even get one.

He was sitting at the edge of his flat bed, looking shallow, but when he saw you, oh man, did he get excited.

”(Y/N)!” He yelled, jumping up and onto the glass that separated you. His hands pressed onto the door and saliva already slipped out his mouth at the sight of you,”(Y/N)... You...You actually came...to see me!”

”Hey Chris...” it was so uncanny to see him without that necklace,“How are you? I have a present for you!” you marginally lift the sealed box to him... Well, half sealed since it had to be checked first. The look on those officers’ faces... You would never forget it. It was bizarre, yes, but it was allowed.

”Presents!” his excitement overflown,“You know I love presents, nothing without them! Give me, give me, give me!”

”Uh...” you saw the slot was too small for your box.

“What’s the matter? Can’t find the right pair?”

The guard that assisted you kindly took the gift and handed it to him via cautiously opening the door. Chris didn’t have any intention to assault anyone, for his mind was too preoccupied with glee as he hurriedly went to open it, only to be greeted by anarchy.

”Larry?”

”Yeah...” you beam sadly, catching sight of Larry’s green head, peering curiously out from the box,“They were able to make him shrink and I knew you were lonely in here. I would visit you everyday if I could, but the rules state that if I did, it could mean your sentence would have to double.”

“Bummer. Thooough I wouldn’t wanna stay in here any longer than I need to! For whatever stupid reason. Now that I have my best friend in the whole world! Even though I told you to take care of him...” there he goes with that glare.

Not even a damn thank you,”Sorry Chris... But it’s better I give him back to you before the environment protection crew cleansed him too much. And I don’t know how I could take care of Larry.... Besides, he would be more happy with you than with me.”

”You’re forgiven, my absolute darling!” He set Larry down on his table before returning back to the door,”Sooo, what’s new with you? It feels like it’s been ages since we had any quality time together!”

“Erm... I’ve been better...” doubt weighed your words; it was hard to keep eye contact with your husband when his eyes were endlessly wide. Not knowing what else to do, you stupidly return the question.

“Good, good...” he hums, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the glass,“How’s Chef? Dead or something?”

“Chris!” You exclaim. Your husband always had some sadism, but most of the time, it was out of humour. Disturbingly, it was almost like Chef’s death was something he wanted,”How could you suggest something so horrible so casually? Especially on your friend?”

He shrugged,”What can I say? He hasn’t come see me in a while. Or maybe he has, but I just can’t see him because he’s like a ghost. Do you reckon he could float through this glass like how they do in the movies?”

“No... Thankfully, not.” you decide to leave out Chef rejecting your offer to accompany you in visiting Chris that day,“Chef’s been...busy.”

“Busy? Busy dying?” you hysterically shake your head,“Huh...” his eyes trail off to the side, slightly relaxing,“Have you ever realised that we slowly die everyday?”

You shudder. Death was such a lighthouse for Chris to ingest. Here though? Where everyday was the same thing, with a mere minute feeling like an hour? You knew this couldn’t be good for him,“Stop talking like that... You know that’s not how you really feel.”

He raises an eyebrow,“Oh, but what if it is? I no longer fear the deaths of the people I supposedly care about.”

“Is that right?” Supposedly? You were heartbroken.

“Oh! But I still love you. A lotttttt. Trust me!” His sight quickly returns back to you, springing a large smile on his face. There was something strange about it, but you fought that thought by giving a reciprocal.

“I...love you too.” why was it so hard to say it back?

“Really? Really... Really!” He places his hands whole back on the glass, going completely quiet as he stared at you. Just staring. You would’ve thought he spaced out, but his eyes were well aware of your being, standing before him, patient. Eventually, he starts speaking again with a soft tone,”Ohh...I can’t wait...to sleep in my own cottage again with you...to touch your hair...to touch you...”

Don’t dream about it so soon...,“Me too Chris... I... The bed feels so empty without you.”

“I have a solution for that!” he chimes. Whenever Chris is this inspired, you know it’s not gonna be nice,“Why don’t you do something unreasonable and end up in here with me? After all, I did nothing wrong to be here! I blame all those people who can’t take a joke nor know how to mind their business! All my accusers were nothing but absurd! It’s not my fault the island ended up the way it did! Besides, it was totally worth the ratings! Genius, am I right?”

Still thinking like a host, are we Chris?,“I-I’m good... I don’t think they would let us be bunkmates anyway, especially if you’re in...solitary confinement.”

“Oh yeah? Even if I threw up a thousand big ones for them?“ he scoffs,“Suit yourself. I guess I’m gonna have to continue pretending that my pillow is you. Your fault too.”

“What...” he’s not joking as well. That struck a nerve,“How is it my fault you chose to sell the island to that toxic waste company?”

“Come on!” his face stretches like it’s common sense,“No one could have expected something like that to happen! It was a complete fluke! No one can be blamed for that, especially not me!”

Of course he was going to make himself the victim: he’s worn nothing but orange for the past few months, couldn’t live by his own agenda and was constantly surrounded by people. Poor little Christian, the tragedy king, hasn’t life been hard on him,“That’s the thing though, isn’t it, Chris? The island was your stewardship and it was your decision to sell it to them. The only person to blame is-“

With the slam of his hand, a wobbly echo of glass emits through your body, leaving your words untied,“Don’t you scold me! You‘re the one that came to visit me, and I know I didn’t sign up to hear you forcing the blame on me for something that was out of my hands! It was out of my estimations, okay? Ugh!”

It took a lot to keep it together. This is exactly why you could never communicate properly with him. Why couldn’t he just slim his ego and accept that jail was his fault for once?! No one else was going to serve jail for him, maybe Chef was right in avoiding Chris,“Fine whatever, have it your way.” you glance down at your wrist, where the watch Chris asked you to keep safe for him buckled,“It seems that my visiting time is up anyway.”

“Aw, seriously? You just got here!” he huffs, magically getting over the heat of the argument,“Could you promise to bring some chocolate next time you visit? It'd be a reaaaaaaally great birthday gift.”

That’s right, it is coming up soon. You nod,“I’ll have to make sure it’s fine with the police officers first, but I’m sure they’ll allow it.”

He’s certain of it,"Course it'll be! They'd allow me to keep portraits in here, but not chocolate? Barbaric!" Certainty. His hamartia.

“Hah, that’s true.” first time in ages you both found something to agree on,“Well... Take care, Chris. I’ll be on my way now.” You turn on your heel and would have accelerated, had it not been for the man in question’s interesting choice of parting words.

“No kiss? Boooooo.”

You twirl back around, trying to figure out the best way to break it down to him,“We... We can’t-“

A disgusted sigh of his plagues your sentence,“I’m not a bird, (Y/N). Tweet tweet! I can tell there’s glass here. Erm...” he was in the spotlight of improvising, which he’s lived through dozens of times,“Let's do this..." he puts his fingers up to his lips and on removal, he whistled an exhale.

On cue, you hold up a hand and clench it like you had caught it, and done the same. Chris shook from exultation on process, the orange clothing his body clothing his mind in that moment.

"Awesome! See, she still does love me! (Y/N) could never abandon me." for a minute, his voice swooned with profound romance that you founded with him once upon a time. He turns away to the side and smiles, the lovey dovey flying away,"What will happen when our hostess comes next? Will I still be behind bars? Will I get to eat chocolate bars? All the answers soon to be revealed, right here on Total...Drama...Island!”

You take that as your cue to leave. He had gone to another world. Man made. Chris had never done stuff like that before... 

"Hey kitty, what about my kiss? Big Randy over here would like one too." Randy or one of the other prisoners tried coaxing you a few steps in on your exit of the institution of criminals, lust painted all over his oily face.

"Eugh." you stick a finger to your gagging mouth to the stranger prisoner's distaste.

The inhale of the outside air was all the cure you needed from the red-blooded fumes of that place.

Talking to the wall... Would it really be okay to let Chris back on the streets like that? Was prison even a good place for rehabilitation? On one hand, yes, it was about time Chris had felt the weight of his crimes, but on the other hand, was forcing it down his throat the best way to get him to willingly amend?

You won’t be surprised if after his release, he went on to joyfully add onto his record, which was kind of unfortunate- he was your husband. 

And you want him to come home.

[satorisoup]

★ THE AFTER PARTY

⋆ 3 - PROPOSITION

to say you were nervous would be a complete understatement. the time now reads around 2:30, and in just an hour and a half, you would be meeting with the manager of the nekodani, without any knowing of what it could be about.

you probably should be getting ready now, as it was about a 20 minute drive to the location alisa had sent you.

your teeth are brushed, your normal makeup looks as is usually does, and your hair is styled presentably so. opting for something atleast a little more than casual wear, you throw on what you think is your best bet. soon enough, you’re ready and out the door to begin your drive.

you only send your friends a quick text letting them know you’re on your way there and you’ll let them know how it goes, and you’re feeling almost overwhelmed the entire drive. “don’t fuck this up” is a sentence that’s practically on replay as it skips through your mind like a beat, all the way until you’re arriving in a parking way. “you’ve arrived” sings through your car radio as your gps declares it.

exiting your car, you make your way to the office buildings door. nerves prickle at your fingertips as your hands curl into a fist, three knocks placed on the wooden frame in front of you. a latch is clicked out of place before the door is sliding open.

a woman with long, gray hair stands before you. long legs that adorn a pencil skirt and a blouse that shouldn’t look that good on anyone, her face still youthful with plump lips and rosy cheeks. she looks like a model, and you’re soon realizing, she is. you’ve seen her face in multiple stores, plastered on their posters.

“are you y/n?” she asks you, a questioning smile on her face.

“yes, that’s me.”

her smile only grows brighter before she motions you inside. “great! please, come in and take a seat!” she says.

you’re soon seated in a chair to the opposite side of her desk as she takes her seat herself. your mind still races with questions that have yet to be answered, and when she speaks, it’s almost as if she can hear your thoughts.

“i’m sure you’re wondering why i’ve called you here, so let me start with introductions. i’m alisa haiba, and i’m the manager for the band N3KODANI. i’ve heard through a grapevine that you’re a songwriter, correct?” she questions.

“yes, singer and songwriter. my artist name is vocaliz3.”

“perfect! to cut to the chase, i do have a proposition for you. if you will hear me out, as you are the only artist i’ve found so far to be fitting.” and you’re quick to answer with an “of course.”

“As a band, we take our fans into high consideration, as they are our greatest asset to being at the top of the music industry. as of recently, we’ve noticed quite a few have started to complain about the lack of new music on our part. i had a discussion with our band members, and we came to a quick realization that with the amount of work we already have to put in, and our skills in the field of writing music, we simply can’t do it ourselves. that’s where you come in.”

“how so?” you inquire.

“your artist name had circulated around and came back to us. i’ve overviewed some of your pieces, and you do have a natural talent. seeing as how i really can’t hire anybody for this position, i took you into account considering you already have a role in the music industry. what i’m trying to get at is,” she pauses before she looks at you, “i’d like to hire you as our songwriter for N3KODANI.”

there’s a silence that envelopes the room at her statement as your eyes slightly widen and your composure is almost broken, and you fight with every ounce of professionalism you have left in your bones to ask your next question.

“i understand. what would this entail for me?”

she smiles before she’s pulling out a folder from her drawer, placing it on the desk between you two.

“i’m glad you asked, as i’m sure you know it won’t be easy. for starters, i’d need you to write songs to create a new album. i would also need you to be present for recordings in the studio to help our members in practicing your pieces. within all of this, we are planning to go on tour to perform these songs in 2 months time. osaka, kyoto, nagasaki, and lastly, shibuya here in tokyo. i would need you to attend our tour. all expenses paid, of course. along with payment for your hard work. i know this is a lot to be asking, but it is rather urgent. i would need to know within the next few days if you’re willing to take up this offer.” she finishes.

“i definitely will need some time to consider this. if i may know, what is the salary? and how often would i be needing to be present?” you ask, trying to ignore the itch in your brain to automatically agree with her.

“everything is in this folder that i’ve compiled. salary, schedules, locations, you name it. please, take it with you while you consider. i’ve also left my phone number in there, for when you have your answer.” you hum in acknowledgment as you thank her, and suddenly she gasps before she continues, “oh damn! how unprofessional of me. im extremely sorry to cut this so short, but unfortunately i do have to get going, i truly appreciate you taking your time to meet with me.” she says, standing from her office chair.

“don’t worry, no problem at all. i should be the one thanking you for the opportunity. i will make sure to get back to you as soon as i can!” you say, now walking back out of the door you came in through at the start.

“it’s really no worries. i hope to hear from you soon. have a nice day!” she responds.

you now sit in your car, bubbles of excitement and bewilderment swarm through your body as you stare at the folder that sits in the passenger seat. before you know it, you’re grabbing your phone with enthralled shaking hands to make a text.

<- PREV ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ->

★ FUN FACTS

⋆ alisa is still a model, following the canon timeskip.

⋆ osamu is the least humorous of the group, but he still has his moments.

⋆ TAGLIST

if your name is in bold, i can not tag you.

@bontensbabygirl @aichiomei @toomanygoldfish @withlovekiki @strwbrryeyes @lifesucksweswallow @snail-squasher @le000xxgrd

[intheticklecloset]

Bungo Stray Dogs Coffee Shots #11-20

A collection of the BSD sentence starters I’ve done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories.

~~~

11) Lee Dazai, Ler Atsushi

Hot air blasted directly onto Dazai’s right ear from behind, and without a moment’s hesitation the detective squealed and shot to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor.

All activity in the office stopped.

Dazai slowly turned to face the perpetrator and was surprised to see Atsushi with a straw in his hand, looking guilty, confused, and like he was about to burst into laughter all at the same time.

“S-Sorry,” the weretiger managed at last. “I didn’t…I just meant to surprise you, not scare you so bad.”

“You didn’t—” Dazai started, then hastily cleared his throat and waved his hand. “Never mind, Atsushi. That was good. You got me. Well done.”

He ruffled the younger boy’s hair affectionately, then strode quickly toward the hall and disappeared.

Activity gradually resumed as the others went back to their business, but as Atsushi was going back to his station he heard Kunikida mutter something about how Dazai was just as ticklish as ever, and suddenly what had happened just a moment ago clicked.

He couldn’t help but beam. Dazai? Ticklish? Oh…he could use this information.

~

“Ahahahahahatsushi! Plehehehehease!” Dazai squealed, scrunching up his shoulders but unable to do anything else to protect his sensitive neck and ears from his colleague’s tickly assault.

Atsushi had grown out just enough fur and claws on one hand for them to be used as tickle weapons, and they were proving very effective against his boss now as he held him down to the ground and went to work gently tickling him into fits of squeals and giggles.

“Why ahahahahare you dohohohoing this?! Whahahahahat did I dohohohoho?!” Dazai whined, snorting when Atsushi’s nail trailed just behind his earlobe with the softest possible touch.

“Mostly I’m doing it for fun,” Atsushi replied amiably, grinning ear to ear, clearly enjoying himself. “But also to pay you back for all the times you’ve scared me to death or done something stupid. Or both.”

“Ehehehehahahahahaha! Plehehehehease, it tihihihihickles so bahahahad! Ahahahahahatsushi!”

“So I’m getting my point across?” Atsushi brushed his fur along Dazai’s neck and beamed at the loud squeal and kicking legs he got for his efforts. “Good. Just a little more should do the trick, then…”

*

12) Lee Atsushi, Lers Dazai and Chuuya

“Chuuya, hold him still!” Dazai whined as he grappled with a squirming Atsushi, trying to roll him onto his back so he could tickle his tummy.

Chuuya cursed, reaching for Atsushi’s arms again, thwarted again when the weretiger quickly drew them away. “I’m trying!”

“Use your freaky gravity power to hold him still.”

“I can’t! You’re using your ability to stop him, and when I touch him you cancel mine, too! Idiot!”

Atsushi – for his part – continued to curl up on his side and protect both his tummy and his arms by forming a little ball on the floor, giggling from the silliness and impending tickle attack. “Guys, plehehehease! Wait!”

Dazai hummed. “Wait for what, Atsushi? Why should we wait when we can tickle you now?”

Chuuya made another grab for his arms and was once again denied. “You little—!” He snapped his eyes up to Dazai. “The kid’s got more ticklish spots than that! Just tickle him somewhere! He’ll have to unfurl eventually.”

“Nohohohoho!” Atsushi protested.

Dazai considered a moment, then squeezed his kneecap, nearly getting a foot to the face for his trouble. Despite his lower body reacting on instinct, Atsushi’s upper body remained tightly curled up and inaccessible.

“Must I do everything myself?” Chuuya muttered, reaching down to dig his fingers into Atsushi’s side, a satisfied smirk gracing his features when the weretiger shot one arm out to stop him. He grabbed his wrist and pulled it above his head before he could take it back, leaving one side entirely open. “There, Dazai!”

Dazai’s eyes lit up like a holiday tree as he wormed his fingers along Atushi’s side, gradually making his way to his tummy, at which point Atsushi’s giggles rose in pitch and he rolled onto his back. “Nohohohohohoho, wahahahahahait!”

Chuuya snatched up his other arm and sat on them both to keep him open and vulnerable, then scribbled his fingers into his armpits at the same time that Dazai went to town on his open belly.

Atsushi screeched with laughter, heels digging into the floor as he squirmed and bucked, a happy smile and pink blush showing off how much fun he was having despite his predicament. “Ahahahahaha plehehehehease, you guhuhuhuhuys! Nohohohohoho! Dohohohohon’t tihihihihickle me!”

“Whyever not?” Dazai mused, his voice in that teasing, lilting cadence that always drove Chuuya up the wall when he was the one in the weretiger’s position. The redhead shivered at the thought but kept up his own tickling, pointedly ignoring the playful wink his partner sent his way.

“It tihihihihihihihihickles!” Atsushi whined, laughter turning more frantic when Dazai finally dug a finger into his belly button. “Ehehehehehehe plehehehehehehehease!”

“I don’t know, Chuuya,” Dazai hummed, “do you think we should let him go?”

“After that little quip about ‘getting a room’ when he’s the one who walked in on us uninvited?” Chuuya snorted, leaning further forward to massage the tops of his ribs. “Not a chance.”

Atsushi whined through his laughter, babbling out apologies and pleas, but it was useless. When Dazai and Chuuya were on the warpath together, nothing could stop them. He’d just have to hope he could hold out long enough for them to feel satisfied in their thirst for vengeance…

*

13) Lee Dazai, Ler Chuuya

Dazai grunted in surprise when Chuuya’s lips slammed into his, falling back against the couch in a solid woomph, his rambling having been effectively cut off.

It didn’t take long for the brunette to realize his partner was in a mood. Trading kisses wasn’t so uncommon, but the redhead straddling him and pinning him in place was. Dazai hummed contentedly, breath hitching when Chuuya’s fingers teased the hem of his dress shirt.

He managed to pull back and giggle breathlessly, “Eager, are we?”

“Shut up.” Chuuya kissed him again, hands slipping up under his shirt.

For a moment Dazai relaxed, allowing himself to melt into Chuuya’s obvious need for physical intimacy, but just as quickly he tensed up again, letting out a choking sound as he arched his back and wrenched his face away from his partner’s. “Wait!”

“For what?” Chuuya snapped, then caught himself. “You good?”

“Tickles!” Dazai shivered beneath Chuuya’s fingertips, which were precariously positioned along his spine about halfway up his back. “Chibi—”

“What, this? Seriously?” Chuuya wiggled his fingers, surprised and annoyed by the detective’s subsequent giggles and squirms.

“Can’t help itttt,” Dazai whined, gripping his shoulders, trying to push him away. “Stohohop!”

“Fine, fine. I’ll move.” Chuuya leaned back in to kiss him again, hands sliding even further up to graze his shoulder blades, but this only made Dazai giggle louder and pull away from him again.

“Chihihibi!”

“Ugh, you’re ticklish everywhere! It’s impossible to know what’s going to set you off.” Chuuya sounded irritated, but inside he was actually rather amused. He smirked after a long moment, then shrugged. “Oh, well, I’m sure I can twist this to my advantage just as well.”

Dazai gasped and giggled at his partner’s wiggling fingers along his shoulder blades, arching his back again. “Dohohohohohon’t!”

Chuuya lowered his mouth to Dazai’s ear and said, “Let’s play a little game.”

Dazai shivered, then squeaked when one of his sides was squeezed. “Ehehehehe! No fahahahair!”

“Don’t move,” Chuuya demanded in a growl, giving up on trying to kiss his lips and instead going for his neck.

Dazai squealed and kicked his legs, but with Chuuya firmly in his lap he wasn’t getting anywhere fast. Instead he dissolved into helpless laughter, squirming and halfheartedly pushing at the redhead’s chest and shoulders, whining all the while. “Nohohohohoho, not the neheheheheck! Not my spihihihihihine, Chuuya! Plehehehehease!”

Chuuya smirked against his jaw and dropped his hands to his hips, squeezing playfully, making Dazai yelp out another laugh. “I said, don’t move.”

*

14) Lee Akutagawa, Ler Dazai

For years, Akutagawa had craved Dazai’s attention.

At first it was just that – an acknowledgement of a job well done, a satisfied nod, a proud smile, literally anything that let Akutagawa know he was doing well in the eyes of his mentor.

But then Dazai left the Port Mafia, and the weretiger came along, and his desire for attention became something…more. Now he wasn’t satisfied with a simple “good job.” He wanted affection. A hug, a ruffle of his hair, a pat on the back. Something physical. Something that would help satisfy his craving for the touch of another human.

But of all the things Akutagawa had had in mind, this most certainly was not one of them.

“I said ‘well done,’” Dazai told him with that tiny smile he reserved for when he was about to do something completely out of the blue. The brunette reached for him, and Akutagawa flinched on instinct. “What more you do want?”

“Anything,” Aku rasped, then cleared his throat and glanced away. “Never mind, Dazai. I’m grateful merely for the slightest attention from you.”

Dazai hummed. “Are you sure? Then why do you look like you want a hug?”

Akutagawa had to bite his lip to keep from gasping at the idea. It wasn’t that he was attracted to his former boss in that kind of a way – the universe had seen to it that the weretiger be the sole recipient of that honor – but the thought that he might actually get something so personal from the man he’d long admired was…well, overwhelming.

“No?” Dazai asked when Aku took too long to respond. “Then…maybe something else?”

Akutagawa finally dragged his eyes up to look at him. “Like what?”

There was that tiny glint of mischief. Aku barely had time to register it before Dazai was suddenly very much in his personal space, and the terrible, overwhelming urge to laugh rose up in him. He slapped a hand over his mouth in horror, his brain taking a few extra seconds to process why such an absurd idea would even cross his mind.

Dazai’s fingers were deep in his ribs. He was tickling him.

Shit.

“Wait!” Akutagawa’s voice was pleading, though he didn’t mean for it to be. His lips trembled as he fought off a smile. “Wahahahahait, no!”

“Atsushi says you have dimples,” Dazai commented casually, eyes scanning his features, looking disappointed that he couldn’t see any.

Blast that weretiger for ratting him out, and blast Akutagawa’s stupid pride that he couldn’t even stand disappointing Dazai even in this way.

He let himself give in and smile – really smile – just long enough for Dazai to exclaim, “Oh, you do have dimples! How adorable~”

“Stohohohohop!” Aku begged, raspy laughter escaping his lips as he squirmed. “Unhahahahand me at once!”

Dazai nodded sagely. “Atsushi told me you’d say that. Those exact words, even. ‘Unhand me.’”

“Dazahahahahai!”

“Buuuuut…” the brunette grinned playfully and wrapped his arms around Aku’s waist, further trapping him and tickling the backs of his ribs all in one move, making the younger man’s laughter rise in pitch. “He also told me you didn’t mean it~”

Akutagawa was going to kill the weretiger one day. A slow, torturous, painful death. But in the meantime, he had to find a way out of this predicament.

“Dahahahahahazai…!”

*

15) Lee Atsushi, Ler Dazai

“Oooooh~”

“Dazai, cut it out.”

“Oooooooh!”

“Dazai!” Atsushi snapped, then sighed heavily as he turned to face his boss. The brunette was goofing off, as usual – not taking anything seriously enough. Then again, he’d never let the team down before…

Dazai laughed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that this hallway is so echo-y. It’s so much fun to – ooooooh!”

Atsushi hated to admit that if he hadn’t been standing right here, he’d have been scared out of his mind at the noises his coworker was making. “This place isn’t rumored to be haunted, you know. Why are you doing that?”

“It isn’t?” Dazai seemed genuinely surprised, but then he shrugged. “Well, it’s still fun.” Then his eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers. “Hey!”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was—”

Atsushi waved a hand at him. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a bad idea, and the answer is no.”

Dazai hummed. “You’re acting cocky today, aren’t you? I thought I was your boss.”

“Well, act like one and maybe I’ll take you seriously!” Atsushi let the retort hang for a moment, but then he winced and turned around. Dazai had stopped walking. “I’m sorry, that was…harsh. I do respect you as my superior – I hope you know that.”

The older detective regarded him in a detached way that Atsushi hated. He’d seen it before; he knew it never led to anything good.

“As I was saying,” the brunette murmured in a more serious voice, “I have an idea.”

“Y-You do? What is it?”

“You said this place wasn’t rumored to be haunted?”

“…no…”

“Let’s change that.” Dazai beamed suddenly, his cold façade fading away as he lunged. “Come here, Atsushi!”

Atsushi squealed and turned to run, but it was already too late. Dazai was quick when he wanted to be, and his arms were wrapped around the younger man’s midsection before he could take two steps. “W-Wait, no! Lemme go – Dahahahahahazai!”

Dazai giggled along with him. “Come on, Atsushi, you have to scream to convince people this place is terrifying~”

“You’re teheheheherrifying – AIIEEEEEK!!”

“There! Just like that.”

Atsushi screeched and thrashed in his boss’ arms as he dug a finger into his belly button – a spot that always got him screaming and laughing in no time. “NOHOHOHOHOHO DAHAHAHAZAIIII!!”

After that, rumors began to circulate amongst the locals that the place may be haunted after all…

*

16) Lee Atsushi, Ler Akutagawa

Atsushi found himself – as he often did – running for his life.

Sharp blades made of fabric pierced the air around him, but none actually managed to catch him thanks to his catlike reflexes.

It was definitely his tiger – Akutagawa wasn’t going easy on him. Not at all. He would never.

“This is pointless, weretiger,” Aku said boredly, using his ability to chase after him without having to sprint himself. “I’ll catch you. You know I will.”

“Not this time!”

Atsushi darted into an empty alley that would lead him out into a park on the other side – an open, public area that Aku would never dare attack him in.

Unfortunately, that was the moment his pursuer chose to get serious.

Atsushi was caught within seconds of entering the alley, his arms and legs strung up by Rashomon. He struggled, but it was useless and he knew it. By the time Akutagawa walked into his view, he was already giggling.

“D-Don’t,” he begged as Akutagawa drew closer, smirking triumphantly.

“If you didn’t want this, you wouldn’t have tickled me into a coughing fit first.”

“I’m sorry about that! I didn’t mean—!”

“I know.” Akutagawa stopped directly in front of him, pulling his hands out of his pockets. “Prepare yourself, weretiger. Your nightmare has arrived.”

Atsushi laughed. “That’s the cheesiest villain line – ah! Ahahahahaha, wahahahahahait! No! Plehehehehehease, Aku!”

“Silence.” Akutagawa’s ability snaked around Atsushi’s mouth to quiet him. The younger man’s eyes went wide in elated panic. “Much better.” Then the darker man grinned, giving himself away as he scribbled gently but ruthlessly along his partner’s ribs and sides. “Don’t worry. Even though you can’t speak, I’ll know when you’re begging me with your eyes. That will suffice this time. After all…”

The mafioso leaned in close, so close their lips would have touched if not for the cloth around Atsushi’s mouth. He smiled.

“You don’t want anyone to find you like this, do you? I’m the only one who gets to do this to you.”

Atsushi would have agreed with him if he weren’t busy laughing his heart out.

*

17) Lee Chuuya, Ler Dazai

“Dazai!” Chuuya’s voice was shrill as he ducked away from his partner and darted around the back of the couch, eyes wide. “Keep that thing away from me!”

Dazai grinned and twirled the purple feather in his hand playfully. “What are you so worked up about? It’s just the feather that fell out of your hat last week.”

“Why do you still have it?!” Chuuya demanded, eyes laser focused on the innocent item. “I swore I threw it away!”

“Why waste such a perfectly good feather?” Dazai’s smile became wicked. “Especially when I can use it to tickle you to tears~”

Chuuya cursed, then screeched when the detective lunged over the couch to chase after him. He bolted into the kitchen and tore up the stairs that would lead him to their room. If he could just get inside, he could lock the door and then figure something out—

“Gotcha!” Dazai cried triumphantly as he latched an arm around Chuuya’s chest, pulling him back down the stairs. The redhead yelled and struggled, but there was no getting away when his partner really had his mind set on something.

Chuuya found himself tossed onto the couch with Dazai looming over him within a minute.

“Waitwaitwait!”

“Hold still, Chuuya,” Dazai chuckled. “It’ll only tickle a little.”

“That’s a lie you son of a – nohohohohohoooo!”

Chuuya tossed his head back and laughed when Dazai slipped the feather under his shirt to wiggle along the skin of his belly and sides. The poor redhead was in hysterics in seconds, squirming and kicking to no avail.

“You’re the most feather ticklish person I’ve ever met in my life,” the brunette cooed as he fought off Chuuya’s hands with his free one. “It’s so cute!”

“I’m nohohohohohohot cute!”

“You are! Look how much you’re laughing, and I’m barely touching you~”

“Plehehehehehehease!” Chuuya begged, laughter growing in pitch when Dazai managed to snatch his wrists and hold them out of the way while dipping the feather into his belly button. He bucked and screamed, “Shit! Plehehehehehehease, dohohohohohohon’t! It’s too muhuhuhuhuhuch!”

“Tickle, tickle, tickle~ Uh-oh, am I making you blush now? You’re turning as pink as a cherry blossom, chibi~”

“I hahahahahahahate you, you bahahahahahastard!” Chuuya wheezed, letting out another wail of distress when the feather wiggled up to his ribs. “Nohohohohohohoho!”

“Oh, Chuuya~” Dazai sighed dreamily, a genuinely fond smile gracing his features as his lover lost his mind laughing beneath him. “How can I ever stop when you’re being so adorable?”

*

18) Lee Chuuya, Ler Dazai

Chuuya was used to Dazai’s depressive moods. He had them fairly often; he’d slink away into their bedroom to sulk or sometimes go on a really long walk that made the redhead worry until he finally came back through the door at some ungodly hour of the morning.

But this…this was different, somehow.

“Yo, Dazai,” Chuuya said, snapping his fingers to get his partner’s attention. “I need a drink. Let’s go to a bar.”

Usually Dazai would indulge him, even if he wasn’t really up to it. And then he’d drink too much and Chuuya would have to drag him home and—

“Not today, chibi,” Dazai replied. He offered a sad smile – definitely not like him – and said, “but you can go if you want.”

Chuuya frowned. “The hell is wrong with you? You always want to go out with me, even when you’re depressed.”

Dazai’s answering silence was all Chuuya needed to realize something was really wrong this time.

“Hey…what’s up?” he asked, sitting beside him on the couch. “You really don’t seem right.”

The detective took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking up at the ceiling as though recalling some long-lost memory.

“It was today.”

The redhead blinked at him. He frowned. Then the words sank in, and he gasped.

He didn’t know much about the friend Dazai had lost years before – the catalyst to his leaving the mafia – but he knew how important said friend had been, how it had torn Dazai up to lose him, and today was…

“Shit, I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was today.” Chuuya coughed awkwardly. “Um…is there…anything you need? Anything I can do?”

Dazai started to shake his head, but then he stopped, and for a moment the mafioso felt a glimmer of hope. There was something he could do!

But then he saw the gleam in his partner’s eyes and regretted everything.

“Can I tickle you, chibi?” the detective asked.

Chuuya shivered and scooted away from him slightly. “The hell? What will that do? You’re just messing with—”

“I love making you laugh,” Dazai said softly, genuinely. “It always lifts my spirits.”

Chuuya closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Let it out in a huff as he tossed his hat to the floor in preparation. “Fine, you freak. On one condition.”

Dazai was already crawling on top of him. “Yes?”

“S-Stay away from my thighs, okay?” Chuuya stammered, blushing at how excited Dazai looked now, how his mood had flipped entirely just because he was willing to help him in this way. “Please – anywhere else but there.”

The detective was smiling, nodding, and fingers were suddenly in Chuuya’s ribs, making him choke on startled giggles and squirm and whine. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Why was he doing this?

Dazai squeezed his hips, and Chuuya bucked and let out a shriek, and his partner’s eyes lit up like a fireworks show and oh.

That was why.

It was worth it to watch the ghosts of Dazai’s past leave him in peace, if only for the moment.

*

19) Lee Poe, Ler Ranpo

It was a dark and stormy night…

No, no! Poe scratched out the line with his pen, shaking his head at himself. He was letting the real world influence his writing again; he really needed to learn to be more original. He’d never stump Ranpo if he kept up with clichés like that.

A bolt of lightning lit up the office, followed by a crash of thunder that made Poe jump even though he was expecting it.

“What are you doing here so late?”

Poe jumped again, this time letting out a yelp as he spun around to see Ranpo hovering in the doorway with a curious look on his face.

“Ah! You scared me,” Poe muttered, turning back to his paper. “I’m writing. Or trying to, anyway.”

“Something new?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to stump me this time?”

Poe clenched his fist over his paper determinedly, staring at the one line he’d written – the one he’d crossed out.

“Damn right I will.”

“Good!” Ranpo said enthusiastically, making his way across the room to him as another bolt of lightning lit up the space. “It’s about time.”

Poe realized the detective’s intentions a split second too late. He glanced up just in time to see Ranpo’s eyes scanning the words he’d written and crossed out, shooting his arm out to cover up after they’d already been consumed.

“The storm is influencing you, I see.” Ranpo grinned at him. “Maybe I can influence you, too.”

“You influence me all the time,” Poe muttered, then slapped a hand over his mouth, horrified with himself for saying that out loud.

Ranpo looked shocked at first, then flattered, then amused. “Wanna say that again, Poe?”

“No!”

“Aww, come on~” Ranpo poked his ribs. “I wanna hear you say it louder~”

Poe jolted and slapped his hand back over his mouth to muffle his giggle, swatting at Ranpo with the other.

That was a mistake.

“Holding out on me, huh?”

In the next moment, Poe found himself trapped in his own seat as Ranpo hugged him from behind the back of the chair, digging his fingers into his ribs and teasing, “Come on, I wanna hear it again! Say it again, Poe! Come onnnn~”

Poe couldn’t help but let his laughter slip out of him as he frantically grasped Ranpo’s arms, kicking his legs uselessly in reaction to the ticklish sensations shooting through his body. “Ahahahaha nohohohoho! Ranpohohohoho!”

“Say itttt~”

“Okahahahahay, okay!” Poe squealed, slapping the table with one hand while digging his fingernails into the detective’s arm with the other. “You infuhuhuhuhuence me all the tihihihihihime, you mehehehehenace!”

Ranpo – much to Poe’s dismay – did not stop tickling. “Hmm…I don’t recall the ‘menace’ part being in the original text…”

Poe ended up laughing himself silly until the thunderstorm outside fizzled away into the dark.

*

20) Lee Dazai, Ler Chuuya

“Okay, okay, I’m done,” Dazai said after a while of tickling Chuuya. He’d ditched the feather about halfway through, but it didn’t matter. He’d still turned the redhead into a laughing, screaming mess.

Chuuya gasped for breath and blinked back mirthful tears. He swatted Dazai’s hand away when he reached out to brush his hair. “Back off…you bastard…”

Dazai smiled and got up without a word. For a moment Chuuya was a little hurt, thinking he’d just left, but a minute later he returned with a glass of water.

“Drink up. Slowly,” the detective teased him.

Chuuya sat up with a groan and took the water with a muttered “thanks.” After a couple of minutes of catching his breath, he set the glass on a coaster on the coffee table and let out a sigh. “Throw that feather away.”

Dazai laughed. “Yes, Chuuya~”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Yes, Chuuya~”

The redhead turned to give him a scathing look, then spotted the feather on the ground behind his partner. He suppressed a shudder as he changed tactics and said, “Actually, let me see that thing. I might be able to reattach it.”

“Ooh, does chibi want a reminder of this moment every time he wears his hat?” Dazai chuckled, but he retrieved the item in question dutifully.

Chuuya took it and pretended to contemplate it briefly.

Then he shoved Dazai back onto the couch and wiggled the strands of it against the detective’s neck.

“Aieeehehehehehehehehe! Chuuhuhuhuhuhuuyaaaa!” Dazai squealed, bursting into high-pitched giggles.

“If you’re going to tease me with this wretched thing, you’d better be prepared to take what you dish out, Dazai.” Chuuya grinned as he managed to pin first one arm, then the other while wiggling the feather along his partner’s neck and ears, and even a little further to his collarbone.

“I cahahahahahan ahahahahalways tahahahahahake it, chihihihihihibi~”

Chuuya growled, but he couldn’t help his smile. “Oh, no, Dazai. I want to hear you say my name when I’m tickling you like this, got it?”

Dazai blushed, but still managed to stick his tongue out in the midst of his snickering.

The mafioso ditched the feather and shoved his hands up under the detective’s arms.

Dazai tossed his head back and screeched with laughter, kicking and squirming and – eventually – yelling Chuuya’s name as he pleaded for mercy.

[captainleviswifee]

Treat you better...

Tags: Modern AU Levi, established relationship, fem reader, reigniting the spark, low key anxious Levi, argument, overthinking, jealousy, OOC or IC Levi? 😭idk Please reblog and follow if you like this content!

Edit: you can use extensions, or apps to replace y/n with the name of your choice. I personally use interactivefics extensions, but let me know if you know others!

The darkness blankets the sky, the neighborhood quiet with muffled noises of a party some walks away. Having just parked his car in the garage he get's out taking a bag of take outs for dinner.

Walking up to the porch of his and your door, he unlocks the door with ease. Keys clanking as he fiddles with them with a tired sigh. Work is well work as usual. It's not the mundane challenges of work he's sighing for. Likely it's the increasing monotonous routine he goes with it at the office everyday. It doesn't help that his relationship with you is reflecting how gray and dull his everyday work is.

Opening the door, the living space welcomes him. Not you, you're not at home yet. You're at the office, either working overtime or being asked out by your friends for a night out. He drops his briefcase on the sofa, as he takes off his coat. Hanging it on the coat rack beside the now locked door.

Now loosening up his tie, he picks up his phone to check the time, it's nearly 10 pm. "It's Friday...then it must be her hanging out with co-workers tonight." He says to particularly no one but himself. His gaze frowning at the screen of his phone. "Or her damn boss," He grumbles.

And that's the problem. Your relationship with him either progressively turns to dull and gray because of his increasing workload, or if it's dull and gray because of your increasing workload and constant late night parties.

But Levi understands you better.

The parties were to distract you from this monotonous routine of your evenings with him. Can be a bad or good habit depending on the act you entertain yourself with. And Levi knew better than to push you to ask when you're in this phase of taking a sort of break.

Or it could also be he's afraid that he'd make things worse and drive a deeper wedge between you two. It's likely the latter.

And that's precisely why he discreetly asked two of his female coworkers for advice. Hange and Petra. Hange had advised to open a table with you for discussion. Basically sit and talk. Meanwhile Petra, advised you to go an extra mile to know what a woman wants. For starters, read a book.

A romance book for example. And she had just the perfect recommendation in hand.

Levi sets the reheated take outs, then preparing a plate of rice—his favorite, on the table. He then walks to the sofa, picking up his briefcase to find a certain book from Petra this morning.

"Huh," Levi could not even read the title, his eyes scanning the book. "Damn, sappy shit." He flips the cover to read a random chapter and sees a specific sentence that nearly killed him from cringe.

But if it would help him get tips on how to reignite this spark between you two, he'd grit his teeth through the cringe. Pick out the good ones, and yeet out the overly cringe ones.

With the book in his hand, he walks back to the dinner table, sitting down to a meal while he takes a spoonful of a bite or two.

After eating, he continued to wait for you at the living room, sitting with his arm resting on the armrest, his other hand propping up the book he's reading close to his steel blue gaze.

The hours tick and you're not home still. It's already 1 am, and you're still not at home. It was then that he finally decides to check his phone. And oh, he finds a message from you in his notifications.

Clicking it, it reads,

"I'm sorry love, I'll be home in a few. Just a 'lil late."

Sent at 11:45 pm. He sighs, texting back,

"Do you need me to fetch you?"

He sends it and returned to reading the book.

He'd hate to admit it, but it became a bit more tolerable for his eyes to read the book after a few chapters. He's mind whirrs at the kind of man most women would want.

Crossing out the unrealistic standards, there are things he might find worthy of taking note. Like getting a little more creative with giving you flowers, or how he should better care for you for when you have period cramps. Basically just be there for you more. Levi had thought he was doing just fine, doing everything to be there for you. But now basing some things he may have missed in comparison to a 'what would most women want,' is that he may have appeared a little too distant or cold. Especially when he's at work.

He sighs, deciding to find a way to strike a proper balance between work and his personal life.

You're an amazing woman, flawed may be, but you're the woman he loves to see everyday.

Sighing, he flips open the book again to continue reading, "Hoh, what do we have here?" He smirks, immersed in his reading although he'd deny that he is.

The pacing of the story just got to a sensual, lightly steamy part. And he couldn't help but think, 'Is this too what most women want?' He ponders, 'I guess not too different to what most men wants, except this has more steps in this. More foreplay it seems,'

His eyes scan the forbidden text, his mind wandering if it could be him and you. Or what could be your reaction had you be reading this instead? Levi imagined you reading this with a flustered expression made him think of other forbidden things he'd do to you.

Flipping the page, he continues, still sure he's reading to get insights on how he should treat you than for the story of the text he's reading.

Then as if he was stricken with lightning, he hears a warm breathy whisper right behind his ear, "Oh? What you reading?" Your playful tone snaps him from his deep thoughts.

"Oh, you're here," His face momentarily stiffens, lips opening slightly, before returning to his nonchalant expression. He then adds, "And you're late," His gaze now frowning. "Sorry," You scratch the back of your head, "We just finished overtime and my boss thought to bring all of us to a short late snack at a cafe." You explain, studying his narrowed blue-gray gaze, before your eyes landing on a specific book. "Didn't know you'd be reading this genre though, Levi." You reply in a teasing manner. His hands swiftly, and casually moving the book away from your view as a response, "Your boss?" One of his eyebrow arches, his expression remaining nonchalant yet the undercurrent of his threatening tone betrays the calm exterior he maintains. "That stupid blond bastard again?" He grumbles, now standing up to meet your eyes, the book still in his hand.

'Stupid, and bastard. Well that's rare,' You smile, Levi adding two insults in a single sentence for the same person speaks just how much this is pissing him off.

"Listen, we need to talk," He then takes your bag placing it on the table before holding your shoulders down to have you sit.

"Levi," You say with a flat and tired expression, "There's nothing to talk about—" Before he cuts you off, "Oh yea we do. Don't think I didn't noticed how you're avoiding me the whole month, and how I see you're spending more time with your work friends and that stupid boss of yours. Again."

Then it's your turn to cut him off, "Levi, you're not jealous are you?" "Fucking no." He says flatly, he then combs his hair back before talking again, "Look, it's just. We're both busy recently and I'm sorry I couldn't be there to listen how your day went or that I couldn't pay attention to you more. But that doesn't mean you should entertain yourself with people outside the problem of our relationship." He then mutters the last bit, "Especially not with your boss." And that's where you stop him, "What are you talking about? Are you saying I'm upset at you because you're busy?" You scoff.

"Yes?" His expression, suddenly forming a puzzled look. His face became even more puzzled after hears you laugh, "And that's why you're reading that book hm?" You tease him, "What-fuck, no." He then places the book behind him. You already know that it's a romance book, and with the few pages you saw of it earlier, it has some smut scenes.

"C'mon, let's see what's it about." You quip, your hands reaching for it, but he's faster and was able to keep it off your grasp.

"Forget it, so you're saying that you're not upset at all?" He asks you, his narrow, blue-gray irises gazing deep into yours. "No, I'm not," You reply with a smile, "Why would you think that?" He then looks down on the table, his gaze falling to your bag on the coffee table as he searches his own mind. "I don't know...maybe it's just because I miss you." He sighs, "Yeah, maybe it's that. You think it's because of that?" He replies more like a sentence of him just rambling and asking the truth he already knows.

You gave a light chuckle before pulling him to a hug. "Gosh you're so adorable," You mumble to his neck, appreciative of his efforts and his feelings. He momentarily stiffens, before accepting the embrace. "Shut it," He rejects the compliment, but you feel his heart beating warm and fast against yours, his hands wrapping around you in return. Embracing you back.

"I miss you too," You whisper to him and you just feel him nudge his face to your own neck. As if hiding his face from view by deepening the embrace.

You pull away, and you give him a light kiss on his lips, his lips lingering for a moment before reluctantly pulling away. Maybe it's because his heart was beating too fast, that you also feel it pump blood to the lower half of his body. A something else entirely beating against your warm body as he tells you in a low gruff voice. His breath hot against your lips, his arms pulling you closer in place. "More,"

[foreverrandomwritings]

Hi can I request ❛ wow i really can’t speak, huh? must be because of how pretty you look. ❜ with fanboy from the soft and sweet sentence starters? Thanks 😊

Changes

Summary: Going through changes while your husband is away causes you to become insecure. What will he say when he gets back home?

Pairing: Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x afab!Reader

Warnings: Body insecurity, weight gain, doctors office, depression if you squint and fluff.

Word count: 1381

Masterlist M's Hundred Celly Masterlist

It has been months since you’ve seen your husband in person. He had been deployed somewhere out in the middle of the ocean for around six months. For a mission you had zero clue about. He had only been allowed to tell you minimal details per usual. You had of course been worried like you always were when he was away.

You hadn’t realized this time was different from the others. You had grown depressed and had begun eating your feelings. You still hung out with Payback's wife and kids regularly. Your parents had made a trip out to you once and you had taken a trip out to his parents as well. You went out on hikes and picked up ceramics classes during his time away. 

You hadn’t noticed that you had started gaining more weight until you had a routine physical. When you stepped on the scale the number was higher than it normally was. Your doctor had reassured you that you were still perfectly healthy. She had told you that you physically had nothing to worry about with the added weight.  Even with her professional reassurance however you became a little insecure. 

You confided in Payback’s wife about your worries. She had dropped her jaw as the words left your mouth. She also may have smacked you a little harshly on your arm. Then proceeded to tell you that you were drop dead gorgeous and had nothing to worry about. She also made sure to tell you that if Fanboy had any problem with the added cushion that she’d find him and knock some sense into him. Which worried you slightly because she was a very fierce woman. 

You continued to worry, especially about how other people would view you. Not fitting into society's standards had always been something you struggled with but now it actually got to you. You would wear baggier clothes if you went out. Maybe not having your husband here to reassure you was a factor in your struggle. 

But you didn’t want to bother him with such trivial things while he was away. So you would make excuses why you couldn’t video call Mickey. You had slowly stopped sending him pictures of yourself. Which was something you had done since his first deployment. Some of the pictures would just be you being silly. Some of the pictures would be of you and your bearded dragon. Some of them would be of you in different positions in some of his favorite lingerie pieces. 

Now the pictures you sent were of what you had for breakfast or of the views you’d see on hikes that you went on. There were the ones of just your bearded dragon Tesoro or Treasure when translated. Some were of what you had made in your weekly ceramics class. You had sent some of you snuggled up on the couch covered in a large blanket and face mask. You had avoided sending him anything that really showed you at all. 

Fanboy had of course noticed the change in photos from you. He asked you what was wrong but you told him that everything was perfectly fine. He was secure enough in your relationship to know you wouldn’t cheat on him. So that thought was already out of the question. He also knew you well enough to know you would come to him when you were ready. 

He was just excited to get back home to you. As the days grew closer he became more and more ecstatic. He had been talking anyone’s ear off that got anywhere near him about how excited he was to be back on land, back with you. Payback was the only one that didn’t get annoyed as he was just as excited to go back home to his family. 

You however were very nervous to have your husband back home. Even though you still felt healthy and you didn’t think you looked terrible. It still worried you that the man you had been with for so long would see the change in your body and be turned off by it. The thought was silly though, you knew deep down that he would love you no matter what. He had always been a supportive husband and a radical feminist. He worshiped the ground you walked on since the very first time you met each other.

When the day finally arrived you woke up extra early to get ready. The start was slow as you studied yourself in the mirror. Looking over all the new stretch marks and cellulite. The way your hips dipped a bit more than before. Your cheeks had plumped up a little more. You looked at yourself and saw someone so beautiful and radiant that you had tears come to your eyes. 

But then the hesitation of what your husband would think came back to your mind. You have been together for many years now. The both of you had changed immensely since you first started dating. He had never stopped loving you and worshiping you and you never wavered in your love for him. Neither of you ever minded when the other changed. 

For some reason this time the change got to you. Maybe it was the fact that he had been around women and men that were fit as fiddles for the last several months. Maybe it was because this was the longest he had been away from you and you feared that the change would be too sudden. But you shook your head clearing those nasty thoughts out of your mind and got yourself ready. 

You put on a new pair of jeans you had needed to get due to the weight change. Then pulled on a graphic shirt that Fanboy had gotten for you when you first started dating. It was luckily pretty loose on you already so now it just had a bit of a tighter fit. You styled your hair quickly before slipping on a worn pair of vans. Then you were out the door and on your way to the unloading dock. 

Paybacks wife and kids were already there when you pulled in. So you stood with them. She had complimented your outfit which made you feel a bit better. You made idle conversation with her and the kids. The group of you were all extremely eager as you waited. The ship pulled up to the dock and you were squeezing her hand tightly. 

“Do you see them yet, Tina?” Their youngest and only daughter sat upon their oldest son's shoulders and was acting as the look out. 

“No Auntie I don’t see daddy or uncle Mick anywhere.” She pouted, shaking her head furiously.

“That’s alright dear, they’ll find us. They always do.” Denise reassured her daughter. Moments passed as you scanned your eyes over the Navy men and women exiting the ship. You finally saw Paybacks head over the sea of people. You knew that your husband couldn’t be far from him. 

You were right because as soon as Payback broke through your husband followed him. His eyes scanned over your form and you fought against hiding from him. He smiled at the shirt you were wearing. Then his beautiful brown eyes connected to yours and it was like he had found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. He hurriedly stepped towards you grasping your face in his hands. 

He pulled you into a kiss that you both desperately needed. Lips melding together perfectly, two mouths made to collide like the waves and the shore. You held his hips in your hands as he pulled away. He looked you over again and you worried your lip between your teeth, nervous about what he was going to say. 

“Wow, I really can’t speak, huh? must be because of how pretty you look.” You let out a loud laugh at his words, throwing your arms around him and bringing him into a hug. He nuzzled his head into your neck. Taking in the smell of your perfume. 

“You are absolutely gorgeous carina. The absolute love of my life.” Tears sprang to your eyes as your silly little worries went away. You would thank fate everyday that you got to call him your husband. 

A/N: Thank you so much for this request darling anon! So sorry it took forever and I hope you love it! I as always very much enjoy writing for my husband.

Tags(open): @wkndwlff @sylviebell @princess76179 @eternallyvenus @loving-and-dreaming

[giggly-squiggily]

SENTENCE STARTERS :D

in honor of me having finished s1 of bungou stray dogs- may i ask for "so? i'm waiting?" with ler dazai and lee tanizaki?

ofc it's totally fine if not! love you have a wonderful night ♡♡

{Puffs are officially CLOSED}

REY!!! *flails and hugs* GIRL THIS IS A TREASURE! I haven't written for Tanizaki yet- and you're watching BSD AHHH!!! I hope I could do our cyber boy justice! :)

“Tanizaki.”

Said boy looked up at his name, finding none other than Osamu Dazai watching him. There was something almost expectant in his gaze, like he was waiting for Tanizaki to do something of interest. “Yes?”

“So.”

“So?”

“I’m waiting, Tanizaki.” Dazai’s eyes danced, something unreadable in that smile. The redhead started to sweat.

“D-Dazai, I don’t know what you’re asking of me-”

“My headphones, Tanizaki.”

Oh. Oh.

“W-What headphones?” He offered, cringing at the lie. Dazai’s narrowed slightly, his smile devilish.

“Run.”

Tanizaki tried- he really did! He twisted around, seeking the door ahead. Before he could take a step, however, he was grabbed and thrown into the office’s couch. “Wait! It was Kunikida! He made me do it!”

“Stealing my headphones and then ratting out your boss? Tch, what has become of you, Tanizaki?” Dazai mock sighed as he kneeled, trapping the younger man against the couch. “Don’t tell me you’re turning to the dark side! I must stop you before you fall even further away!”

“Whahahahat are youhuhuhou eheheheven shahahaying? Ahehahahahaha, Dahahahzai!” Tanazaki squeaked the second fingers touched his waist, thumbs pressing into the sides of his stomach and fingers kneading his lower ribs. “Ihihihih’m shahahahhahrry!”

“Hm, are you? You don’t sound sorry!” Dazai increased the pressure- literally. His gentle touch grew firm, increasing Tanizaki’s giggle fits into proper laughter. “Say it with your whole chest! Are you sorry?”

“Aehehahahahhahaha! Yehehehehs, yehehehhehs I’m shahahhahahrry! Dahahahzahahhahhai-AHAHA!” The redhead all but folded when fingers dug into his belly, his hands flying to Dazai’s wrist and hanging on tight. “PLEAHHAHASE NOHHOHOHT THEHEHEHHERE!”

“Oo, you’re pretty ticklish here, huh?” Dazai cooed, leaning back and reaching for the edge of Tanizaki’s shirt with his free hand. “Alright- I believe you. Just one more thing…”

“Whahaht? NO! NO DON’T YOU DARE!” Panicked, Tanizaki’s efforts of escape doubled as Dazai began to lower himself. “ANYTHING BUT THAT-”

PFFFFFFFFT!

A shrill scream escaped his lips, his body convulsing as Dazai blew the loudest, most obnoxious sounding raspberry against his skin. Just beneath that, Dazai’s howling laughter boomed, sending the brunette off balance and onto the carpeted floor. “Oohoohoho my GOD! That was amahahahazing!”

Tanizaki didn’t have much to say- he just groaned, covering his flushed face with his sleeves. This was the last time he was taking requests from Kunikida.

[goodnightmemes]

GONE GIRL (2014) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ What have we done to each other? ❜

❛ I'm the guy to save you from all this awesomeness. ❜

❛ I think it's your chin. Yeah, it's quite villainous. ❜

❛ I have to kiss you now. ❜

❛ Life. I don't remember the point. ❜

❛ Go home, fuck her brains out, slap her with your penis. "There's some wood for you, bitch." ❜

❛ Now, I don't panic easily...but it's weird, right? ❜

❛ Should I be concerned? ❜

❛ I love your parents...but they really can be assholes. ❜

❛ I love having strangers pick at my scabs. ❜

❛ You have a world-class vagina. ❜

❛ We are gonna take this very, very seriously. ❜

❛ I feel like I'm on a Law & Order episode. ❜

❛ Should I know my wife's blood type? ❜

❛ Marriage is hard work, and compromise, and more work. ❜

❛ You naughty minx. ❜

❛ We're so cute. I wanna punch us in the face. ❜

❛ Everyone knows "complicated" is code for "bitch." ❜

❛ It seems like the kind of thing that would happen to [name]. ❜

❛ Just because I don't like to be around [name] doesn't mean I don't care about her. ❜

❛ Anyway, whoever took her is bound to bring her back. ❜

❛ Well, we have our first clue. ❜

❛ You've been up all night. You wanna look like you've been up all night. ❜

❛ Hey, be careful today, okay? ❜

❛ I'll balance on the exact fucking edge of your emotional razor. ❜

❛ I knew you never should have moved back here. ❜

❛ We are all worried. We are all scared. ❜

❛ We had to file a restraining order. ❜

❛ I'm hoping you can tell me what this means. ❜

❛ Hello, stranger. Fancy meeting you here. ❜

❛ Are you following me? ❜

❛ Promise me we'll never be like them. ❜

❛ If it happens, we'll deal with it. ❜

❛ We have each other. Everything else is background noise. ❜

❛ You don't trust me. You don't trust my judgment. ❜

❛ I don't get why you're daring me to be someone I don't wanna be. ❜

❛ You look like hammered shit. ❜

❛ You really don't like him, do you? ❜

❛ Could you please not share that with anyone? ❜

❛ It's like you're the goddamn Homecoming King. ❜

❛ It looked like you were having fun. ❜

❛ I am in a nightmare! ❜

❛ My God, this place literally smells like feces. ❜

❛ Hey...have you told me everything? ❜

❛ All I want is to come over here, have a beer with you, and not be judged. Can we do that? ❜

❛ I'm gonna go Benadryl myself to sleep. ❜

❛ I feel like I could disappear. ❜

❛ I called you a hundred times. You gotta pick up your phone! ❜

❛ I needed to see you. I know this is a bad idea. ❜

❛ Can you at least tell me you love me? ❜

❛ Did you, by any chance, tell anybody anything about us? ❜

❛ Did you leave a pair of red panties in my office? ❜

❛ Never say that out loud again. ❜

❛ It's our last time together. Let's make the most of it. ❜

❛ Last night, I went from desperate to pathetic. I became someone I don't even like. ❜

❛ We could have had this fight four hours ago. I'm late. ❜

❛ You're a fucking coward. ❜

❛ For Valentine's Day, I thought I'd buy a gun. ❜

❛ I'm being paranoid. Crazy. It's just... I'd sleep better with a gun. ❜

❛ You fucking idiot. You fucking asshole! You fucking lied to my fucking face! ❜

❛ If anybody finds out, you're totally fucked. ❜

❛ I was scared for you before, and now, I'm fucking petrified. ❜

❛ But the truth is, you'd have to be a sociopath to behave normally in this situation because it's the most abnormal situation in the world. ❜

❛ I'm so sick of being picked apart by women. ❜

❛ I have nothing to hide. ❜

❛ You have to fucking talk to me! ❜

❛ Why have you kept this stuff? It's like a little box of hate. ❜

❛ I love you no matter what. But you need to tell me. ❜

❛ Are you asking me if I killed my wife? ❜

❛ Because sometimes the way he looks at me I think...He may truly kill me. ❜

❛ I am so much happier now that I'm dead. ❜

❛ Let the punishment fit the crime. ❜

❛ You need to bleed. A lot. A lot, a lot. ❜

❛ But, then, we never really existed. ❜

❛ He loved a girl I was pretending to be. ❜

❛ "Cool Girl. " Men always use that as their defining compliment. ❜

❛ I was fucking game. ❜

❛ What's the point of being together if you're not the happiest? ❜

❛ You think I'd let him destroy me and end up happier than ever? No fucking way. ❜

❛ I need 20 seconds where you don't judge me, interrupt me or get angry. ❜

❛ You married a complete psychopath. ❜

❛ Part of me was relieved when I thought she was gone. ❜

❛ As long as you don't own a python and blast death metal at 4 AM, we're gonna be best friends. ❜

❛ Least you could do is not keep his secrets for him. ❜

❛ I believe you. It's just the craziest thing I've ever heard. ❜

❛ I always wondered why you kept in touch after...everything. ❜

❛ The whole thing just feels hinky. ❜

❛ Whatever they found, I think it's safe to assume that it's very bad. ❜

❛ Don't take it personally. ❜

❛ I thought we were steering clear of men for a while. ❜

❛ I'm not sad. I'm angry. ❜

❛ Why should I die? I'm not the asshole. ❜

❛ That sounds like a very bad idea. ❜

❛ This is a ticking time bomb. You've gotta throw yourself on it. ❜

❛ Where is the money, sweetheart? ❜

❛ You're hiding. I don't know why, and I don't really care. ❜

❛ There are a lot of people out there a lot worse than we are. ❜

❛ Every time you look smug or annoyed or tense, I'm gonna hit you with a gummy bear. ❜

❛ Knowing you were out there was the only thing that's kept me going these past few years. ❜

❛ Why are you so good to me? ❜

❛ Why is she dressed like a babysitter? ❜

❛ Come on, you're staring at ghosts. ❜

❛ Not that I don't appreciate Bait Shop Chic. ❜

❛ There are cameras everywhere. ❜

❛ You are more than safe, and I am not letting you get away again. ❜

❛ You're probably the most hated man in America right now. ❜

❛ Just because I am not a murderer doesn't make me a good guy. I'm not a good guy. ❜

❛ And if you come back, I promise I will spend every day making it up to you. ❜

❛ They disliked me, they liked me, they hated me. And now they love me. ❜

❛ I gave you the benefit of the doubt over and over. Every time you said something stupid, I thought, "Maybe he's just stupid." ❜

❛ I've forgotten how to behave. ❜

❛ Fire doesn't erase blood. ❜

❛ Come home. I dare you. ❜

❛ You fucking bitch. ❜

❛ She slit his throat with a box cutter. ❜

❛ All right, you can stop pretending now. ❜

❛ You do know I was just telling you what you wanted to hear, right? ❜

❛ You know me in your marrow. ❜

❛ Take off your clothes. I need to make sure you're not wearing a wire. ❜

❛ You killed someone. You're a murderer. ❜

❛ I'm a fighter. I fought my way back to you. ❜

❛ I'll make sure that no one forgets the pain you caused me. ❜

❛ When two people love each other and can't make that work...that's the real tragedy. ❜

❛ I swear, you two are the most fucked-up people I've ever known. ❜

❛ I would never, ever hurt you. ❜

❛ I don't care. I am leaving you. ❜

❛ I won't have to teach your child to hate you. He'll do that all by himself. ❜

❛ You fucking cunt! ❜

❛ The only time you liked yourself was when you were trying to be someone this cunt might like. ❜

❛ I've killed for you. Who else can say that? ❜

❛ Yes, I loved you. And then all we did was resent each other, and try to control each other. And cause each other pain. ❜

❛ You're breaking my heart. ❜

❛ You're my voice of reason. I need you with me on this. ❜

❛ Of course I'm with you. I was with you before we were even born. ❜

❛ We've been through the darkness. We've come out, united. ❜