dreamshapers-universe replied to your post “If anyone saw that post, sorry, embarrassment won over, couldn’t do…”

what no I wanna read it… xD

ahahaha okay, it’s trash but if you want, I’m sticking it under a cut here. YOUNGER FOLLOWERS PLEASE DON’T CLICK THE READ MORE. NSFW, PWP, bondage, all that, also I’m very out of my element writing this sort of thing 😛 ~950 words

There was a certain thrill that came every time Michiru
suggested they try something new. Haruka could never say no to it. She got a
certain look in her eye as she told Haruka what to do, the same look she got
just before the first touch of her paintbrush on a fresh canvas. Haruka felt
like she was a part of a grand artistic vision.

Today’s vision apparently involved Haruka tied to a kitchen
chair, naked save for a blindfold.

“But Michi, I can’t see you like this.”

“And why,” Michiru began, pausing to be sure Haruka would
hear the zipper on her dress go down, “should you need to see me?” Her dress
brushed against Haruka’s knees and she stepped out of it. Haruka pictured how
the light must be hitting her body, how beautiful she must look with every
motion.

“The same reason I should like to touch you.” Bondage was
something Michiru had introduced long ago, but Haruka struggled every time. To
be so close and not be able to reach out with her hands… already she was
wriggling as though she might break free.

Michiru’s heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she moved
behind Haruka. She put her mouth very close to Haruka’s ear. A shiver ran down
Haruka’s back, setting every nerve on high attention. “I hardly think either of
those things are necessary.” She trailed kisses around Haruka’s ear and down
her neck. One of her nipples grazed against Haruka’s back between the slats of
the chair. Haruka longed to be able to turn, take it in her mouth, make Michiru
feel as much as she was feeling and see it on her face.

As though she could read Haruka’s mind, Michiru reached
around and cupped one of Haruka’s breasts. With the pad of her thumb, she
teased at the nipple. Her other hand slipped down between her hips, fingertips
landing right at the point Haruka began to get sensitive.

“Michiru…” Haruka strained her hands against their tether;
she managed to stroke her fingers against Michiru’s thigh.

She stopped and moved out of reach. “Now now, Haruka, none
of that.”

“But I want you.”

“Is that so?” Her heels clicked again, moving to the front.
One hand landed on Haruka’s shoulder, and then she had Haruka’s thighs between
hers, straddling. Haruka moved as much as she could, wanting nothing more than
to move her leg up to the warmth at the apex of Michiru’s thighs, but her
ankles were tied too securely.

“Is this better?” Michiru leaned in just close enough that
Haruka could feel her breath, body heat, the faint ghosting of the barest
touch, but nothing more. Only their legs connected.

“No.”

“Oh dear. That’s no good.” For a moment Haruka thought she
was going to move away again, but then to her greatest joy, she kissed her on
the mouth. Haruka responded hungrily, the one touch she was allowed had to be
made the most of. Michiru pressed against her, chest to chest. Her hands snaked
down along Haruka’s sides until they brushed against her hip bones.  Haruka bucked, and Michiru broke away.  

“Come back.”

“It seems to me you want something else.”

“No, I don’t, I—“

But Michiru had already pushed her knees apart and stepped
between them. She kissed her way down Haruka’s chest and stomach, stopping just
below her belly button. “Hm, you don’t want anything else? I should stop?” She
rested her arm against Haruka’s thigh.

“That’s maybe… not what I meant.”

Michiru made a humming sound that vibrated against Haruka’s thigh.
“You should always speak clearly and say what you mean, Haruka.” She kissed the
inside of her knee. “Otherwise I might get confused.”

“I’m sor—“ Michiru worked upwards with her mouth, kissing
and biting and sucking at the soft skin of Haruka’s inner thigh. The further
she got the slower she went, pausing to let her teeth and tongue work on little
patterns that sent Haruka reeling. “Michiru…” she breathed. “Keep moving.”

“As you wish.” She lingered no longer, letting her lips
trail up quickly to kiss the joint between Haruka’s legs and hips. Her nose
brushed against Haruka’s center, and then her mouth—Haruka gasped—and then
Michiru kept going, moving down her other leg.

“You tease.”

“What did I say about speaking clearly? I am only doing as
you asked.”

“How can I speak clearly if I can’t think clearly?”

Michiru smiled against her skin. “Perhaps you raise a good
point.” She kissed her way closer to Haruka’s crotch. “Next time I’ll not make
you worry so. There will be no talking.”

Haruka chuckled. “How cru—“

Michiru pressed her mouth against Haruka’s lower lips, tongue
coaxing its way around her clit. Haruka braced her feet against the floor,
pushing to grind as well as she could. Michiru followed her rhythm. Her mouth
moved in time with every swell, building Haruka up with finesse. Haruka maneuvered
her hand to grab onto the base of the hair, her grip going tight as she crested
into ecstasy. She gasped, wishing she could grab onto Michiru, pull her close
and ravish her as she finishes. Her wrists and ankles strained against their
bonds even as she came down. Michiru let her feel her grin before moving away.

“Was that so bad?” she asked, undoing the ties at Haruka’s
ankles and rubbing the irritated skin with her soft fingers.

“Yes,” Haruka said, still breathing heavy. “You’ll have to
make it up to me.”

“Oh?” Michiru loosed her hands and came around to the front
to remove the blind fold. “How shall I do that?”

Haruka grabbed her hips and pulled her into her lap. “I can
think of a few ways.”

Whenever I think about AU’s in which HaruMichi don’t meet and fall in love as teens, it’s always super easy to conceive of Michiru’s dating history but Haruka?? Dating?? How would that even go??

awashsquid:

Got inspired by a post by @sittingoverheredreaming about Bookstore AU. Disclaimer: I have never worked in a bookstore so some details are probably wrong.


“Where’s
the Cooking section?!”

Michiru’s
eyes never so much as glanced away from her monitor. “To the left, under
the large sign that reads ‘Cooking,’ assuming of course, that you can in fact
read and are not looking for picture books, which are located in the Children’s
section at the back of the store.”

“Well!
This kind of rudeness is unacceptable! I will be speaking to your
manager!”

Sighing
and resigning herself to some shallow attempt to smooth over the situation, Michiru
tore her eyes away from her online cart…only to see the affronted customer
already stomping away, presumably hunting down someone to take out her wrath on.
The odds were somewhat positive that the first manager in sight would be one
that would just fire her already, but
fate was not to be so kind. The middle-aged woman, now shaking her wicker purse
for emphasis and pointing vigorously towards the Information Desk, had found
Setsuna and mistaken her for a store manager (an event that happened almost
daily, and that Setsuna had given up on correcting months ago). The
green-haired woman took in the customer’s shouting and frothing without so much
as a blink, said something in return, and then began to walk in Michiru’s
direction.

With
a few choice keystrokes, her window was closed, and the store’s Help Directory was
back on her screen, as per store policy. “Michiru,” Setsuna greeted, warmer
than she probably should have given the circumstances, “I find that, once
again, I must appear as though I am reprimanding you to satisfy a customer. Pray
tell, what exactly was the problem with this one?”

A
small hair toss accompanied her reply: “Truly, I cannot help it if the woman is
incapable of reading our signs, despite their significant size and
user-friendly font choice.” The derision in her voice was palpable, and she
began to examine her cuticles, wondering if she should get another classic
French manicure at her appointment later, or perhaps something a little more risqué—

A
hand with maroon nails covered her own, and Michiru delicately raised her eyes,
feeling scolded in a way she had not felt since she was a very young child. “Michiru,
I understand why you took this job.” Setsuna released her hand, knowing that
she now held the younger woman’s attention. “I also understand that your
parents are capable of buying this entire chain if they so pleased,” she noted
with a rueful smile. It disappeared as she finished, “But, if you continue to
insult the customers directly, I can’t keep covering for you, and you will be
fired.”

Michiru
nodded in understanding, and Setsuna, appeased, left to continue putting
together the newest display table. Their encounter felt as though it had been
hours long, but her computer’s clock swore that it had been less than two
minutes, time always seeming to stand still or speed up around Setsuna
depending on the woman’s mood.

Yaten
chose this moment to return from their coffee break. “Did I miss anything good?”
they asked, settling into their seat, still sipping whatever godforsaken sugar
bomb was promoted this month at the café.

“Nothing
except the immeasurably slow crawl of time until I may take my leave, along
with the ever-surprising lack of comprehension of the average consumer,”
Michiru replied dryly, watching a snickering band of teenagers take several
Holy Books into the “Fiction” section, a steaming Rei not far behind.

“So,
the usual then,” they chuckled, cracking their knuckles. A customer approached
and, after a moment’s consideration, selected Yaten, the much less intimidating
option, to inquire as to if their store rented books, and if not, if they would
be considering it.

Only one hour, seventeen
minutes, and thirty-two seconds,

Michiru thought to herself, listening to Yaten explain the concept of a library
to the man, who insisted that the library wouldn’t have every book, so a rental system should be considered. “I will
personally put that suggestion in to my manager, sir,” Yaten retorted, the sarcasm
completely missed on the customer, who walked away seemingly pleased with his
invention.

One
hour, sixteen minutes, and fifty-four seconds later, Michiru clocked out and
plucked her purse from its resting place below the desk, unzipping it and
searching for her keys. “Excuse me,” she heard a voice inquire.

Retrieving
her sunglasses from their case, the reply came without her looking up to
directly address the person on the other side of the desk. “I am actually
finished for the evening, so if you could direct your question to my associate,
please,” Michiru replied in a tone that made it very clear that the “please”
was not so much of a request as a command. She was loosely debating just never
coming back to work as her hand closed around her familiar, smooth keyring, and
she raised her eyes to examine the customer, who was now babbling nervously
under Yaten’s bored expression.

“Sorry!
I’m, uh, it’s my first night, and I’m not sure where to go. Uh, I’m going to be
working with the kids, but there’s no one in the Children’s section right now,
so I’m pretty confused,” she rambled, running her hand through her short, sandy
hair.

Michiru
blinked. She had seen all manner of customers in her last week, but never one
quite so attractive. The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile that was half
sincere, half predatory, and in one deft motion, Michiru removed her
sunglasses, placed her keys back into her purse, and stood up. “Allow me to
assist you, Miss…”

“Haruka,”
the blonde replied, pointing to the nametag that Michiru had failed to notice. She
felt a slight blush rise, but fought it down and replaced it with a smile that
was a little too wide to be fake.

Perhaps
this job could have its perks after all.  

EXVERYONE READ THIS IT IS AMAZING I LOVE IT SO MUCH

Imagine. Early in their courtship, Michiru is trying to do some fishing and asks Haruka what her type is.

Haruka’s honestly and sappiness bolts ahead of her thinking and she says type feels pretty irrelevant when she knows the most beautiful woman in the world. Michiru frowns, unsure whether to feel jealous, and finally asks if she might see this woman and judge for herself.

Haruka is  m o r t i f i e d  but mumbles sure, fiddles with her phone for a moment, and hands it over.

IT’S ON SELFIE CAM.

Pride

docholligay:

Trying to get myself out of a little writing slump and found this idea in a comment the other day. 

Haruka took off the plaid shirt she hadthrown over her t-shirt the minute she saw Mina. She tried to stick
her arms through it like a struggling toddler, Mina fighting her off
at every angle.

“Haruka, what the fuck is your
problem, are you trying to claim me? Is this some weird lesbian
flag-planting?” She squirmed away from Haruka.

Haruka’s eyes were wide, her arms held
out to Mina. “You’re not wearing any clothes! People are looking at
you! People too old for you!”

Mina shrugged and looked down at
herself, wearing a tiny crystal encrusted rainbow bikini top and
miniskirt that barely qualified as such. “Let em look.” She
looked around. “Do you think any of them want to buy me a beer?”

“Mina!”

“Oh cool it, Dad. It’s Pride,
nobody’s dressed.” She clicked her tongue at Haruka and tossed her
hair, laughing. “By the way, nice shirt, captain obvious.”

Haruka pulled the t-shirt away from her
chest and looked down at the white block letters on a black
background exclaiming ‘Butch’. “I like this shirt! It’s my gay
shirt.”

“I got news for you Haruka, all your
shirts are gay shirts.”

Keep reading

docholligay replied to your post “headcanon: Rei Hino doesn’t shave because fuck patriarchal beauty…”

I think this and I also think Haruka DOES shave because she hates the feel of leg hair on the inside of her pants, and also because fuck expectations.

YES. YESSSS. I also think Haruka would be the FEEL MY LEGS type right after shaving. AREN’T THEY SO SMOOTH? (What no she’s not flexing, her calf muscles are JUST THAT GREAT)

And in my ideal world once Mako starts getting more confident and stops feeling like she has to prove her femininity with everything she does, she also stops shaving