do you think the mess in oshiros hotel is meant to signify that hes been letting his problems pile up until its become too overwhelming to handle.
im thinking about the fact that he's definitely the one who's been making the mess but he doesn't even realize it. he ignores the clutter until it becomes too hard to ignore you know? like when it starts actively blocking the way to the presidential suite. he insists that he and his staff will handle it and that madeline shouldn't clean up his own mess, but he still doesn't do anything about it. does he know that the staff is gone? that it's just him there?
mr oshiro is so hell bent on impressing madeline so that she'll stay in his hotel. he's so in denial of everything. he doesn't even realize he's dead, he still thinks his hotel never got shut down. I think his insistence on her staying is bc he really wants to believe that the hotel is open, and a costumer would affirm that belief. it could also maybe be a mixture of loneliness too. (also, him treating her as a costumer even after she says no is absolutely him being in denial. that man is very unhealthily attached to this hotel,)
and even though it was nice of madeline to clean it up, there's still parts of the hotel she can't fix. the plumbing. the windows. the, hole in the ceiling (oops.) she's not qualified to help him, and that's why I think the chapter ends on a bit of a sour note. madeline is of course not a bad person for wanting to help, the point is that she can't. it is unfortunate but true
anyways mr oshiro is a very good character i like him a regular amount. im normal about that old man
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Becca the way I ran over here is insane I have to share this with you. Dbf ceo Bucky tying his tie around your throat pulling it back as he rails into from behind on his desk while he calls you his favorite cock warmer.
Wtf that’s so hot 🙃 like a really frantic, filthy, desperate quickie over his desk because you just couldn’t help yourselves and he needs a little relief
Maybe he’s had a long day and it's really taken it out of him. Some days just don't go smoothly for him and you know to expect that but the second you see his face, you know it's been a rough one.
He looks tired. His frown lines seem a little deeper set than usual and his jaw is clenched but apart from that, it'd be hard to tell he's had a long day because he hides it well.
"Everything okay?" You keep your voice soft, encouraging him to relax and you notice his shoulders drop ever so slightly.
"Bad day." He confirms but it's impossible to miss how he seems to focus on the hem of your dress. Your dress stops just above your knees, leaving your legs exposed for him to appreciate and he doesn't say much more before doing exactly that.
As soon as you're settled on his desk, his hands are drifting up that bare skin, starting at your ankles, roaming confidently up the back of your bare legs. You know he needs this. He needs an outlet for all that frustration and a warmth settles in your stomach because even when he wants to be rough with you, he's still awfully considerate.
He kisses the insides of your knees, trailing the tip of his tongue gently up the inside of one of your thighs until he's able to place a chaste kiss to your clothed sex. He gasps softly, marvelling at how slick the thin lace is under his lips, knowing he's hardly even touched you and you're already desperate for him.
"Bend over the desk." He orders and while you follow his instructions, he unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers before freeing his cock. "You're so fuckin' wet." He grunts, rubbing his stiffening length against the drenched fabric of your panties, giving himself a moment to admire your ass.
"You." He begins, loosening his tie before tugging it off, keeping the knot intact. "Are just a hole for me to fuck for the next hour. You got that?"
"Y-yes." You whimper, pressing yourself back on his cock, shame burning in your cheeks when he laughs at how pathetic you are.
"You're a fucking cocksleeve." Oh God, he needs this. Everything in him is screaming at him to bury his dick inside you and he can't ignore his need any longer. "I don't care if you get off on this. I don't give a shit if you cum." You know that's not true but believing this is just a rough, frantic fuck for his pleasure makes it even hotter somehow.
"Use me." You whine, gripping the edge of the desk. He pulls your soaked panties to the side, slipping the loop of the tie over your head, keeping a nice tension in the length of it as he slides slowly into you.
"Christ, you're tight." He grunts, tugging on the tie so the pressure on your neck makes you yelp. The first glide of his length into your body is always pure bliss for you but it's that little bit better when you pretend that he doesn't care.
"Stupid. Little. Cockslut." He offers sharp, shallow thrusts with each word and there's no stopping the way your eyes roll back. His tip nudges the soft, velvety spot inside you with each thrust and you know if he keeps that up, you're going to cum, whether he cares or not.
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