#i have money its fine its fine but spending so much on so little in such a short amnt of time murders me
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confetti-critter · 8 months ago
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The night is young and I am free to do whatever my heart desires but unfortunately I have once again found myself trapped in the Time Prison and so I
#the good old 'I don't feel like doing anything including doing nothing and I want to go to bed but I know I'm not tired'#WEH.#I'm enjoying typing but I don't want to commit to practicing typing for real so I'm just making excuses to type more#I was looking at custom ESC keycaps because I was thinking about that whole community of ppl obsessed with keyboards and like I get it I#like the clicky clacking and keyboards can look so pretty but some of those key caps man wtf.#why would you want 3D transparent donald duck ESC key from temu what is wrong with you#saw a set of key caps that were little kittys with little kitty ears n I was like fuuuuuuuuuck#49.00 USD probably 100000 CAD+shipping goto helllll#I was thinking about what if I had like confetti keycaps and a custom kittycake esc key or like an actual little cake and matching desk mat#or even just a new cute mousepad cuz mine is old as fuck and I spilled vegetable cream stew on it once#and then I was thinking like sighhh and wouldn't it be cool to have arcade carpet on the stairs leading down to my basement hovel and#rainbow lights along the ceiling corners and what if I painting my bedroom like I wanted to do and sighhhhh#I haven't been wasting my money buying shit like that but I'm thinking about it again.#but the same thing stopping me from doing anything at all is stopping me from wasting my money which like that's good I guess???????#gosh I really like typing why did I stop doing daily typing practice#oh yea The Thing Stopping Me From Doing Anything At All#meow meowm meow meow meow#ok I really gotta tear myself away from my computer and brush my teethses and try going to bed#I already played minecraft earlier it's fine I didn't do NOTHING tonight it just feels like I did#and tomorrow is another day#and next week is a short work week thank fucking christ almighty#literally cuz its easter sunday and he was in that tomb but he escaped or whatever he did#thanks jeezy boy#you maybe shoulda milked it for like half a week at least#moved the big ass boulder like have an inch at a time#*pause for laughter*#that s from my new stand up comedy routine do uiuop like it djfskll;askjdgflksjdflksajdflksjdf the dsjalkjfolidasfgjoiweljsdalkjflskdjflak#meowww#I am the only one I know on here who 'talks' this fucking much about absolutely nothing#I do all this and my poor followers can click read more and spend time reading alllllll this garbage
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monsterfactoryfanfic · 4 months ago
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if I've learned anything from grad school it's to check your sources, and this has proven invaluable in the dozens of instances when I've had an MBA-type try to tell me something about finances or leadership. Case in point:
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Firefox serves me clickbaity articles through Pocket, which is fine because I like Firefox. But sometimes an article makes me curious. I'm pretty anal about my finances, and I wondered if this article was, as I suspected, total horseshit, or could potentially benefit me and help me get my spending under control. So let's check the article in question.
It mostly seems like common sense. "...track expenses and income for at least a month before setting a budget...How much money do I have or earn? How much do I want to save?" Basic shit like that. But then I get to this section:
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This sounds fucking made up to me. And thankfully, they've provided a source to their claim that "research has repeatedly shown" that writing things down changes behavior. First mistake. What research is this?
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Forbes, naturally, my #1 source for absolute dogshit fart-sniffing financial schlock. Forbes is the type of website that guy from high school who constantly posts on linkedin trawls daily for little articles like this that make him feel better about refusing to pay for a decent package for his employees' healthcare (I'm from the United States, a barbaric, conflict-ridden country in the throes of civil unrest, so obsessed with violence that its warlords prioritize weapons over universal medical coverage. I digress). Forbes constantly posts shit like this, and I constantly spend my time at leadership seminars debunking poor consultants who get paid to read these claims credulously. Look at this highlighted text. Does it make sense to you that simply writing your financial goals down would result in a 10x increase in your income? Because if it does, let me make you an offer on this sick ass bridge.
Thankfully, Forbes also makes the mistake of citing their sources. Let's check to see where this hyperlink goes:
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SidSavara. I've never heard of this site, but the About section tells me that Sid is "a technology leader who empowers teams to grow into their best selves. He is a life-long learner enjoys developing software, leading teams in delivering mission critical projects, playing guitar and watching football and basketball."
That doesn't mean anything. What are his LinkedIn credentials? With the caveat that anyone can lie on Linkedin, Mr. Savara appears to be a Software Engineer. Which is fine! I'm glad software engineers exist! But Sid's got nothing in his professional history which suggests he knows shit about finance. So I'm already pretty skeptical of his website, which is increasingly looking like a personal fart-huffing blog.
The article itself repeats the credulous claim made in the Forbes story earlier, but this time, provides no link for the 3% story. Mr. Savara is smarter than his colleages at Forbes, it's much wiser to just make shit up.
HOWEVER. I am not the first person to have followed this rabbit hole. Because at the very top of this article, there is a disclaimer.
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Uh oh!
Sid's been called out before, and in the follow up to this article, he reveals the truth.
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You can guess where this is going.
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So to go back to the VERY beginning of this post, both Pocket/Good Housekeeping and Forbes failed to do even the most basic of research, taking the wild claim that writing down your budget may increase your income by 10x on good faith and the word of a(n admittedly honest about his shortcomings) software engineer.
Why did I spend 30 minutes to make a tumblr post about this? Mostly to show off how smart I am, but also to remind folks of just how flimsy any claim on the internet can be. Click those links, follow those sources, and when the sources stop linking, ask why.
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ladymortimer · 6 months ago
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Anyway I told my classmate everything that's bothering me with her in one long message and I didn't feel anything, she also wrote a long reply back but tbh I don't feel like putting any more time and effort into this so called friendship
#😭😭💀💀 i sound like a psycho typing that but the issues have been prolonging for an entire year and i have been patient#im fine with just my 2-3 friends thank u 🙄#like she only mentioned one time where i pissed her off but it was just smth i said meanwhile the things she did to me were like bigger in#comparison? like its still valid that she got upset abt what i said but this was after i have been pissed multiple times#and like she annoys me every time we talk i never had this before i#omfg like maybe im just petty but sometimes she comes over as shallow#like in the beginning of the year i told her that marroncream was my fave sanrio character and she said oh never heard of her before and now#shes making it part of ''her brand'' i said i like the handmaiden and now she also integrated that same with madoka magica#ok this sounds childish but literally these are my faveee things of all time and for her to simply be like oh let me just *snatch*#and yea im saying brand bc shes an actual tiktok influencer 😭😭 i did this to myself bro#like sometimes she seems the type to like smth while her knowledge on it is very subpar#uknow how in some online video's people make fun of girls for liking animanga for attention? yea thats her 😭#she knows so little about the medium but spends so much money on furoku and stationary of characters that she doesnt know abt#like she gifted me a rose of versailles pouch for my bd which was awesome but then she asked me is there a manga of?#u have been in my house??? theyre the crown jewels of my collection?!?! what#its more stuff tbh that annoys me but like its just the ''fake fan'' that kinda annoysss me
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babycakezero · 3 months ago
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♡ out in the rain
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Since his childhood, Bakugo Katsuki couldn't name a single thing he despised more than rain. The smell, the way it ruined his shoes and soaked his clothes. He hated all of it, and more.
So when he randomly awoke in the middle of the night after a weird dream and saw you, wearing a pair of flimsy sandals and your pajamas, crouched over with your umbrella covering something infront of you, he couldn't understand why his feet took him directly to your side with almost no thought for the rain.
"The hell are you doing?" He barked at you, his hands stuffed deep within the pockets of his sweatpants in an attempt to keep at least one part of his body sheltered from the cold rain.
Startled, your body jerked forward slightly, making you lose your balance for a few seconds before easily regaining it, "Jeez, why do you always have to walk so quietly, Bakugo!"
His narrowed eyes stared at you, studying the way your hair stuck itself to your face, before taking notice of the unusually thin, and dirty, cat you were protecting from the rain by using your umbrella.
"That a stray, or something." He huffed out, the air so cold that it was making his breath visible.
He watched intently as your lips formed a little pout, "Yeah, and he kinda looks sick, right?"
"It's ugly."
You glared up at him, your pretty colored eyes throwing all the anger you could possibly muster his way, "You two literally look like brothers, Bakugo." Quickly, too quickly for his liking, you turned you attention away from him and back to the cat who rubbed its body against your exposed knee, "Should I try to sneak-"
"Are you serious?" His eyes rolled at the question he knew you wanted to ask.
"I can't just leave this cutie out here by himself, that's just plain cruel, Bakugo! You would just have to open the doors for me, so I don't drop him."
He didn't want to help you, or the ugly cat you were desperate to bring into your dorm room. He knew it would be a problem if he did, the money you would have to spend in order to take care of it would be out of your budget as an unemployed high school student. But, the longer he stared at you, the more and more he started to beg himself to just give into you.
"Please, Bakugo." You crunched up your nose at him, water droplets sliding down your face.
You were too much for him, he thought as he turned him back to you and started walking back to the dorms, "Fine. But only if you call me 'Katsuki' from now on."
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characters ♡ bakugo katsuki x ♡
a/n ~ sorry if this is poorly written in any way,my sleep deprived self wanted to write something !
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luvismenu · 18 days ago
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Only When It's Us — JJK ,, index ,, about taglist
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Chapter 02 — distraction ✎
fic summary: you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.
nsfw warnings: smut; lots of kissing, lots of touching lol, oral (male recieving, fem too? kinda), sucking fingers, doggy style, unprotected sex (shes using birth control so yep, be safe!) use of ‘good girl’
wc: 6k
📜 permanent taglist: @lovieku @kyuupii @fluttershypoo @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @mar-lo-pap @jungkooks-wife @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @leemonis-blog
📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @sweetmimosa28
abt series taglist: send me an ask w the series title !!
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“i have to go.”
“why don’t you just come back home? you can start over, and this time, maybe you’ll be more like your brother.”
you sigh.
“mom, i don’t want to be him,” you say quietly, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. on the other end, you hear her let out a soft, disapproving tsk, a sound that always manages to make you feel a little smaller.
“aren’t you clearly struggling with school? if you were here with us, with your brother, we’d help you. you’d be fine,” she insists, as if coming home would magically fix everything.
you roll your eyes.
“i really have to go.”
“___, just listen to—”
but before she can finish, you end the call, staring at the blank screen for a moment.
there’s an unsettling feeling in your chest, one that refuses to fade, no matter how much you try to brush it off. its like a quiet reminder of all the things you’re trying to avoid.
go back home?
after everything you’ve been through to study what you want, to finally live on your own terms. every argument, every latenight fight with your parents, all just to claim a bit of freedom.
you worked so hard to break free from their expectations, to stand on your own.
you even transferred universities just to escape the constant pressure back in your hometown. no matter what you did, it was never enough. every choice was somehow wrong, not ‘their way.’
you can’t go back now.
not until you’ve made it, not until you have something real to prove them wrong. you have to be successful, if only to show them that your way was the right way all along.
“hey, are you done thinking? never seen anyone contemplate cheerios this hard.”
min yoongi’s low voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you look up, finding him behind the cash register, his lips curving into a small smile.
“just wondering if i can actually trust your store’s products. what if you are some sort of cheerio secret agent and you're trying to poison me?” you joke, handing him the money.
“oh no, you figured it out. we’ve been poisoning the cheerios. now how am i gonna explain to my boss that our mission failed?” he dramatically placesb a hand on his forehead as if you revealed his deepest darkest secret. you can’t help but chuckle, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit.
“bad day?” he asks, his gaze softening a bit as he opens the cash register.
min yoongi; your friend.
well, he's more like your senior. he graduated last year and he is working parttime at this convenience store cuz he thinks in this way he could spend some time outside.
you didn't question him about it any further.
you don’t usually come here unless it’s an emergency, and breakfast for tomorrow qualifies as pretty urgent, or so you tell yourself.
“something like that,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
he nods slightly. “well,” he begins, “i’m sorry i can’t give you a discount,” he adds, trying to lighten the mood.
you chuckle, the corners of your mouth lifting. “aw, that’s too bad. i thought i might get these cheerios for free.”
he smiles softly, “maybe some other time,"
you smile back at yoongi and turn to leave. but then you almost bump your head against a man’s chest, stumbling back in surprise.
that was close.
you look up to apologize, but your words get caught in your throat as you take in his appearance.
he’s handsome.
no, that doesn’t even begin to cover it. his face is sculpted to perfection, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. his dark eyes seem to pierce right through you, and his long, dark hair falls effortlessly over his forehead.
but there’s something else,
he looks... mad?
you quickly gather yourself, your cheeks warming slightly. “sorry,” you blurt out, stepping aside to let him pass.
as you walk out of the store, you catch a snippet of conversation behind you.
“are you still upset about her, jungkook?” yoongi’s voice carries just enough for you to hear.
you try to shake it off, not wanting to dwell on whatever is unfolding behind you. it’s not your business, after all.
you step outside, the cool air hitting your face as you leave the store, and try to focus on the tasks ahead of you.
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“it doesn’t make any sense, hyung,” jungkook scoffs, the frustration bubbling up inside him.
“when did she ever make sense?” yoongi replies dryly, not backing down as he meets jungkook’s glare. the tension in the air feels thick, but yoongi isn’t afraid to speak his mind.
“from my point of view, you’re now a free man. free from all the bullshit you’ve been through,” yoongi explains, hoping to lift jungkook’s spirits.
“what bullshit? i was happy. we were happy,” jungkook frowns, his confusion evident. he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, struggling to comprehend yoongi’s words.
“that’s what she wanted you to think,” yoongi replies, his tone serious. “and to be honest, that’s what you always did. you did whatever she wanted. you changed for her.”
“i loved her,” jungkook insists, his voice a bit softer but still filled with conviction, as if saying it out loud would make it true.
“did you? really?” yoongi presses, searching jungkook’s eyes for any hint of doubt. he knows this is a tough conversation, but it needs to be talked out.
jungkook looks away and mutters. “you don’t get it,”
yoongi’s expression softens. he presses his lips together as he looks at jungkook, feeling bad for him. “i’m sorry, jungkook. but you really have to let it go now. it’s been two weeks. it’s time to start moving on.”
jungkook stays silent.
instead of responding, he reaches for a lollipop displayed near the cash register, the bright colors contrasting sharply with his gloomy mood. he hands yoongi some money, more than what the lollipop costs, as if he’s paying for more than just candy.
“do you want the change, or can i keep it as a tip for my great service slash friendship?” yoongi tries to lighten the mood, hoping to bring a smile to jungkook’s face.
and it does.
jungkook’s lips curl into a faint smile, a small but genuine response. “keep it,” he says softly.
as jungkook turns to leave, yoongi watches him go, feeling sad for his friend.
“bad day indeed.”
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you're sat on a bench in the park near the convenience store, lost in your own thoughts. the quiet sounds of the evening settle around you, the faint rustle of leaves, the distant hum of traffic, and your own sighs mingling with the cool air.
you’re not really thinking about anything in particular, just letting your mind wander in that aimless way it does when everything feels overwhelming.
then, a loud voice cuts through your thoughts.
“no, i know you're hiding something from me!” someone snaps, his voice taut with irritation. “fine! have it your way then.”
curious, you glance over and recognize him immediately; the same man from earlier at the store, the one you’d nearly bumped into.
he’s pacing as he talks on his phone, one hand running through his dark hair in exasperation. his jaw is clenched, his brows furrowed, and you can practically feel the tension radiating off him even from a distance.
after a moment, he ends the call with an aggravated sigh, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he makes his way into the park, still visibly upset. he barely notices his surroundings as he walks closer to where you’re sitting.
he sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, muttering something under his breath as if willing the frustration to melt away. you can’t help but stare a little, like an idiot.
then his eyes snap open and land directly on you.
“got a problem with me?” his voice is sharp, cutting through the silence between you.
you blink, startled, and stand up instinctively. “excuse me?”
he turns fully to face you, his eyes never leaving yours. “i asked, you got a problem with me?”
“no.” you shake your head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“good.”
wow. nice attitude.
just as you’re about to walk away, he calls out again.
“never seen you around here before.”
“pardon?” you turn back, surprised.
“you’re yoongi's friend, right?” he asks,
you cross your arms, giving him a wary look. “why do you care?”
he shrugs, almost nonchalant. “my bad, just curious. never seen yoongi smile at a normal customer before, so i assumed.”
“oh,” you reply, softening just a bit. “well, i guess you could say we're friends.”
he raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you guess?”
you offer a small shrug of your own. “he used to help me when i was still a freshman, and he still tries to whenever he can. i'd say he's like my teacher, in a way. it’s not like we hang out or anything, though.”
he tilts his head, considering your words. “well, consider yourselves friends. trust me, he doesn’t just help anyone.”
you narrow your eyes slightly, still wary. “and who are you, exactly?”
“jeon jungkook,” he says, extending a hand with a surprisingly polite nod. instinctively, you reach out and shake it, his grip firm. “since you're yoongi's friend, i think we go to the same university. though this is the first time i’m seeing you.”
“same, i am ___,” you pull your hand back.
“what are you doing here, in the middle of the night? didn’t your parents ever tell you not to go out alone?” he asks, the way he talks is somewhere between teasing and serious. you can't quiet get what it is but something about it grates on your nerves, like he's playing at being concerned but in a way that feels almost mocking.
“i could ask you the same thing,” you shoot back, meeting his gaze head on.
he doesn’t flinch, only tilts his head slightly. “i always come here,” he says, his voice calm, almost like a matterof fact.
“same,” you respond. “during the day.”
he quirks a brow, “so why are you in my night shift?”
you scoff, a laugh slipping out before you can stop it. “this isn’t your place or ‘shift,’ you know."
“well, you come here during the day; i come here at night. sounds like shifts to me,” he says with a shrug, and you catch the playfulness on his face.
“guess i’m overtiming, then,” you say, glancing away to hide your own smirk. “don’t mind me.”
he stays silent.
“you’ve got your own shit to deal with, huh?” he says, his voice breaking the quiet.
“why are you talking to me?” you blurt out, catching him a little off guard. “i mean, you don’t even know me.”
he raises an eyebrow, unphased. “i could ask you the same thing,” he replies, mimicking your answer from before.
you narrow your eyes, folding your arms. “i don’t think i want to talk about my problems with a random stranger.”
“problems…” he echoes, looking you up and down like he’s trying to figure you out. “let me guess. got into a fight with your boyfriend?”
“no,” you say quickly, rolling your eyes. “i don’t have one.” for a second, you think you catch a flicker of surprise on his face. “what about you? girlfriend mad at you?”
his face shifts, something almost vulnerable passing over his features before he looks away. “guess you could say that,” he mutters. “since she broke things off with me.”
a silence stretches between you two.
“i’m… sorry to hear that,” you finally say, feeling the awkwardness settle around you.
you didn't expect that.
honestly, the idea of someone like him getting dumped hadn’t even crossed your mind. a guy who looks like that—that intense aura—doesn’t exactly seem like the type to get left behind.
you assumed he’d be the one calling the shots, the one walking away. but here he is, single and clearly dealing with the aftermath of something that’s weighing on him. its surprising.
a thought crosses yourmind.
if someone could leave him, someone who had a place in his life and a claim to his heart, maybe he’s not as perfect as he seems on the outside. maybe there’s something beneath the surface, something that’s harder to deal with than his looks would suggest.
it’s like a puzzle you didn’t even mean to start solving, yet here you are, wondering if there’s more to him than just that handsome face.
but then you shake the thought away. he’s a stranger. a random guy you happened to bump into, quite literally, at a park in the middle of the night. it’s not like you’ll see him again after tonight. or, at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.
because, really, why should you care?
whatever his story is, it’s none of your business.
“anyway, hope you figure your problems out.” he says, his gaze flickering away as if he’s eager to dodge any deeper conversation.
“likewise,” you reply.
without warning, he pulls a lollipop from his pocket, holding it out to you. “here,” he says, waiting for you to take it.
you reach out slowly, raising an eyebrow. “thanks?”
he smirks, “again, did your parents never tell you not to take candy from strangers?”
“maybe i like to be a little rebellious,” you say, smirking back at him and he shakes his head smiling.
“well, go ahead, eat it. i don’t want you tossing it away. i spent a lot on that sucker,” he says, a playful grin spreading across his face. despite the oddness of the moment, a corner of your mouth quirks up.
you unwrap the lollipop, examining it with a critical eye before giving him a look that says it all.
he catches it, tilting his head in curiosity. “what?”
“i don’t think i like raspberry flavor,” you admit, holding the lollipop up like a trophy of sorts.
he squints at you, “you’ve never tasted one before?”
you shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “i don’t like raspberries, so i’m guessing this is more of the same.”
he shakes his head, lips twitching into a smirk. “that’s pretty bold, making assumptions without even trying it.”
“just give it a taste; maybe you'll like it,” he suggests, a teasing smile forming on his lips, clearly wanting you to try it. deep down, he doesn't even like raspberry flavor; he just picked it out randomly at the store.
“uh, no thanks. i don’t want that nasty taste on my tongue,” you reply, scrunching your nose a little . “but thanks, you could have—”
your words are abruptly cut off as he grabs your hand, the lollipop still held tightly between your fingers. in one swift motion, he leans in, wrapping his mouth around it. his tongue swirls around the candy, and then he pulls it out, his lips glistening with a reddish-pink hue that matches the flavor.
you're completely taken aback, eyes widening in shock.
oh what the fuck.
“yeah, you’re right. it does taste nasty,” he says, licking his lips as he releases your hand. “give it to me, i'll just throw it away or something”
suddenly, the lollipop feels trivial compared to what he just did. you stand there, completely speechless, your mind and heart racing as you try to process what jus happened.
“what?” he stares at you.
“you’re good with your tongue,” you say, the words slipping out before you can really think them through.
he pauses, his eyes widening for a second, and he chokes on nothing, almost like he’s been caught off guard mid-breath. “uh, what?” he finally manages, blinking rapidly.
realizing how that might’ve sounded, “i just meant... the lollipop. you seemed pretty skilled with it,” you clarify, though you’re aware it’s not really helping.
what are you even trying to say?
he looks at you, a smirk playing on his lips now. “uh-huh, sure,” he says, teasing you. “that’s what you meant.”
you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “don’t flatter yourself, i was just making an observation.”
but the way he’s looking at you now, dark eyes glittering with amusement and something else you can’t quite place, makes it hard to pretend that slip of the tongue didn’t mean more than you intended.
“so, do you want to suck on it?”
“huh?” you blink.
suck on what now?
“the lollipop” he clarifies, a small smile playing on his lips.
oh.
you clear your throat, fighting to keep a neutral expression. “no, definitely not, especially now that you had your tongue all over it.” you try to scrunch your nose, but any attempt at showing disgust falls flat with the heat rising in your cheeks.
“alright then, just asking if you changed your mind,” he shrugs, still holding your gaze.
“i still don’t want it,” you say quickly, trying to sound convincing.
“okay.” he blinks, unfazed.
“okay,” you repeat, awkwardly.
he gestures to the lollipop still in your hand. “uh, so… are you gonna keep holding it?”
you glance down, pulling your hand back. “i’m gonna throw it away,” you declare, though it feels a bit ridiculous now, given everything that just happened.
“i hope so,” he says, one side of his lips quirking up.
why do you kind of like his smile?
you try to shake your thought off, tossing the lollipop into a nearby trash can, trying to act as casual as possible.
“well, guess that's the end of that,” you say, hoping to sound nonchalant. he nods as he crosses his arms.
you raise an eyebrow, mimicking his stance. “do you usually hand out half-eaten lollipops to strangers?”
he laughs, low and soft, the sound surprisingly warm in the quiet night. “only when they look like they need a little distraction.”
you tilt your head. “oh? and what made you think i needed one?”
his eyes meet yours, his expression softening. “just a hunch,” he says, his voice dropping to a murmur. “we all got stuff we’d rather not think about, right?”
a pause.
there’s something unspoken between you two, a quiet understanding in the way you hold each other’s gaze.
he's right.
you are stressing about things you'd rather not think about, things that seem to cling to your mind no matter how hard you try to push them away.
and then there's him, a stranger but somehow not, going through his own mess. you can see it in his tired eyes, the way he keeps looking off into the distance as if trying to shake off whatever weight he's carrying.
you realize you don’t mind it; you don’t mind his company, or even the strange comfort of this shared silence.
both of you are here, each trying to forget whatever it is that’s eating at you. maybe that’s why this moment feels so easy.
”yeah,” you finally say, “guess we do.”
“i gotta go now,” you announce, hoping to put an end to whatever weird tension is building between the two of you.
he doesn't say anything. no goodbyes, no attempts to stop you. so you turn and start walking away, trying to shake off whatever just happened.
but before you can take more than a few steps, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. you stop, surprised, and turn back to face him. his grip isn’t tight, but it’s firm enough to make you pause.
you meet his gaze, and there's something in his eyes—something intense, something that makes your stomach flip.
“would you like a distraction?” he asks, voice low, almost like a whisper meant just for you.
you blink, not sure if you heard him right. “what?” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.
instead of answering, he tugs you gently closer. your body stumbles forward, and your hands land on his chest to steady yourself. his heartbeat is strong under your palm, and suddenly, everything feels too close, too intense.
he looks down at you, his eyes flickering over your face like he’s searching for something. “i think i do,” he mutters. “don’t you?”
your mind is racing, trying to make sense of this.
is he asking what you think he’s asking?
he’s a stranger. someone you barely know beyond a couple of conversations and an awkward encounter in a convenience store.
yet there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes it hard to think straight.
“yes,” you hear yourself say before you can even process it.
his lips curve into a satisfied smile, and without another word, he leans in and kisses you.
the world seems to stop as his mouth meets yours. it’s not hesitant or soft; it’s urgent, as if he’s been wanting this for longer than the short time you’ve known him. his hands slide up to your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss.
your fingers clutch his shirt, feeling the heat of his body against yours. it’s messy and impulsive, and he doesn't even care that you’re both in the middle of a park, under the dim glow of the streetlights.
right now, all you can think about is him. the way he tastes, the way he kisses you desperately.
maybe you do need this distraction.
his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, letting the kiss deepen. his lips are soft, and you moan as if you're melting into the kiss. there's something about the way his mouth moves against yours; like he's been waiting to do this.
“wait—” you pant as pull back, your heart pounding against your ribs, trying to gather your thoughts. he looks into your eyes, his brows furrowing slightly as he asks in a low voice, “what happened?”
“we're... we're outside,” you point out, glancing around.
he tilts his head, his brows raising slightly as if that’s the least of his concerns. “so?” his voice is low and almost teasing, like he finds your hesitation cute.
you let out a scoffing laugh, “what do you mean so?wee’re literally in a children’s park.” you gesture to the swings and slides nearby, deserted at this hour but still... it’s a public space.
he pauses for a second, “my car’s parked just over there,” he nods towards a sleek vehicle at the edge of the park, his lips curling into a smile. “we could, uh... relocate or—”
before you can even process that, your curiosity gets the better of you. “wait— you have a car?” you cut in, a little surprised.
he chuckles. “yeah, and it’s a pretty one at that.” there’s a glint in his eyes that says he’s enjoying this back-and-forth with you, like it’s some sort of game.
you sigh, still trying to wrap your head around the craziness of this entire situation. “okay,” you murmur, almost to yourself, deciding to just go with it. what’s the worst that could happen?
he releases his grip on you, but only so he can grab your hand and guide you towards the car. the walk feels a little awkward now, a heavy tension hanging in the air. you're not sure what to say.
what’s the protocol for walking towards a car with a guy you’re about to hook up with?
as if sensing your nerves, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “come on, my car’s comfy. don’t worry,” he says with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. the way he’s holding your hand... it’s surprisingly tender, making it feel just a little less awkward.
when you reach the car, he opens the back seat door for you. you hesitate for a second, “you won’t, like, kidnap me or something, right?” you half-joke.
he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “for someone who’s so aware of the things you shouldn’t be doing, you sure do them anyway,” he teases. his words send a shiver down your spine, both a warning and an invitation.
but you ignore that nagging voice in the back of your mind. instead, you climb into the seat and he follows you right away.
“why are you—” your words are cut off as he crashes his lips against yours, the urgency in his kiss making you lose your breath. one of his hands grips your waist, pulling you against him, while the other tangles in your hair, tugging gently to tilt your head for better access.
the way his lips move against yours, hot and hungry, sends sparks shooting down your spine, and before you know it, you're moaning into his mouth, matching his intensity. your hands scramble to find something to hold onto, eventually locking behind his neck as if he's your lifeline.
“are we seriously gonna fuck in your car?” you gasp, your words shaky when he pulls away just enough to start trailing hot kisses down the side of your neck. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, drawing him closer.
“no,” he breathes and sucks on a sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing the skin before he soothes it with a slow lick. “just couldn’t stop myself,” he admits, voice low and breathy, and then his mouth is back on yours, devouring you with a hunger that makes your head spin.
your hands move restlessly over his broad shoulders, wanting to feel more, wishing his clothes were gone so you could touch him everywhere.
his hands roam your body like he's memorizing it, fingers pressing into the curves of your waist, teasingly brushing against your chest. each touch has you arching into him, wishing he'd just tear your clothes apart already.
it's all too good.
too overwhelming, and before you know it, five minutes have passed with the two of you tangled in each other. when he finally pulls back, panting, his lips are swollen and glistening. your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath, both of you staring at each other in the dim light of the car.
he’s leaning back slightly, his hard on pressing against your thigh. it’s impossible not to notice how turned on he is, and it only makes your own arousal spike.
you're so fucking wet right now.
you’re laid back on the seat, eyes locked on him, watching the way he runs a hand through his disheveled hair, pushing it back revealing his forehead.
“hotel? or my place?” he asks, trying to catch his breath “hotel’s just a minute away, but my place… well, it’s a bit further.”
you can practically see the options laid out in your mind like a checklist.
a) go to the hotel, have your fun, and slip away without looking back. no strings, no regrets. just a quick fuck and disappear like it never happened.
b) go to his place, let him fuck the shit out of you, see if he’s worth all this heat between your thighs. maybe wake up in his bed with his arms still wrapped around you... and if he's good enough, maybe get his number so it doesn’t have to be a one time thing.
you bite your lip, your decision already made before you even realize it.
“yours.”
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the drive to his apartment is quick, the tension between you both barely held back. you're glad it’s late at night, because the two of you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other and you don't want anyone witnessing it.
the second you step into his apartment, the door slams shut behind you, and it's a scramble to rid each other of clothing. shirts are yanked off, belts undone, pants shoved down until you're both stumbling towards his bedroom in a mess of heated kisses and needy touches.
“o-oh fuck—yes baby, suck it just like that,” jungkook throws his head back, moaning, his breath ragged. he’s sprawled on the bed, legs spread wide, hands gripping the sheets. you're on your knees between his thighs, sucking him hard, your lips stretching around his thick length.
you glance up at him, eyes half lidded, watching the way his abs flex as he tries to keep himself steady. “shit... you look so fucking hot,” he rasps out, voice rough. his gaze darkens, and he pushes himself up, one hand threading through your hair.
“can you take it, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a hint of a challenge in his tone.
you know exactly what he’s asking. you nod, barely managing it with your mouth full, and he smiles, almost wickedly, his eyes gleaming.
“good,” he murmurs, his grip tightening just enough on your hair. “tap me if it’s too much.” and with that, he starts moving his hips, fucking into your mouth with slow, deep thrusts.
you gag slightly as he pushes deeper, but you relax your throat, trying to take him in. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of him moving in and out, his groans echoing off the walls.
“fuck—you’re taking me so well, baby,” he praises, his voice thick and raspy, sending a wave of heat straight to your core. each time his cock hits the back of your throat, it forces a choked gasp from him, his hands instinctively tightening in your hair.
your eyes water, tears pooling at your lashes, but you don’t stop, even as your throat aches. your nails dig into his firm thighs, using them for balance as he fucks your throat. you want to show him just how much you can handle.
“i’m gonna—” he grunts, voice rough and strained. a hot burst of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow it all, not breaking eye contact with him for a second. his chest heaves as he watches you, mesmerized, as your tongue slides slowly along his length, cleaning up every drop. his jaw clenches, the sight clearly driving him wild.
“get up,” he orders, voice still a little breathless, and you obey instantly, letting him pull you to your feet. “on the bed, all fours.”
you get onto the mattress, positioning yourself as he asked. there's a moment of stillness as you feel his gaze roam over your exposed body. your heart races, anticipation building as you wait for his next move.
“you’re dripping,” he murmurs, leaning in closer until his breath is hot against your soaked core. he licks a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, and your eyes flutter shut, a soft, breathy moan escaping your lips. his mouth envelops your pussy, sucking and licking with an rhythm that makes your thighs tremble.
he pulls back just enough to catch his breath before moving up, positioning himself between your legs. his right hand trails upward, skimming over your skin until his fingers brush against your lips.
instinctively, you part them, taking his fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around them. the low chuckle that escapes him tells you just how much he enjoys it.
“you like that, hm?” he asks. you moan softly around his fingers, your response muffled but desperate.
he withdraws his fingers, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. leaning down, he wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you slightly until your back is against his chest. you can feel his length pressing against your ass, you move your hips a little causing a little friction.
his hands slide over your breasts, kneading them with just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.
you melt into his touch, your head lolling back against his shoulder as his fingers pinch and roll your hardened nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.
“want me to fuck you, baby?” his voice is soft against your shoulder as he places feather light kisses along your skin. he nips gently, his hands never stopping their teasing, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes when his fingers pinch just a bit harder.
“y-yes,” you mewl, voice shaky with need, “fuck me, jungkook.”
he squeezes your breasts harder, a groan rumbling from his chest as he sinks his teeth lightly into the curve of your shoulder.
“yeah? can i fuck you raw?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.
“yes,” you gasp, your voice barely more than a whimper. “p-please.”
his grip on you loosens slightly, and he leans back to look at you, his eyes dark, like he's stopping himself. “you sure?” he asks, one last time, his tone gentle but urgent.
you nod quickly, breathless. “i’m on the pill,” you assure him, and the tension in his shoulders eases.
“fuck. okay, bend over.”
without hesitation, you resume your previous position, arching your back and presenting yourself to him. he groans softly at the sight, his hand sliding down to rub slow circles over your entrance.
he teases you, slipping a finger inside, making you moan softly as your walls flutter around him. he withdraws his finger, watching the way you clench around nothing, desperate for more.
grabbing his cock, he taps the swollen tip against your slick hole. you whine, impatience leaking into your voice, “just fuck me already.”
a smirk curves his lips, and without another word, he pushes into you.
you grip the sheets tightly as you take him in fully, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick length. a choked gasp escapes your lips, eyes squeezing shut at the delicious burn that quickly morphs into pleasure.
each inch fills you so completely, leaving you breathless, your body trembling at the feeling.
“fuck,” he groans behind you, his voice low and rough, a sound that makes your toes curl. “you’re so tight, baby... taking me so fucking good.” the words are almost a growl, filled with barely restrained control as he fights the urge to pound into you.
his hands move to your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave marks, steadying himself as he sinks even deeper.
your moans spill freely now, raw and needy, muffled slightly by the pillow you bury your face into. he starts to move, slowly at first, pulling out just enough before thrusting back in, his cock brushing against that sweet spot inside you.
the rhythm is torturously slow, each stroke making you whimper, your back arching even further in a silent plea for more.
“please... more,” you manage to gasp out, your voice shaky. “jungkook, i need it.. need you.”
“yeah?” he rasps, picking up the pace, thrusts becoming sharper, each one driving you into the mattress. “want it harder, baby? want me to ruin you?”
“yes.. yes mmph- more!” you cry, your voice breaking as he slams into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. your nails claw at the sheets, the friction of his hips against your ass making stars dance behind your eyelids.
his fingers snake around to your front, finding your swollen clit, and he rubs it in tight, quick circles. your entire body jolts, your hips bucking back against him as you let out a loud, broken moan.
“oh, fuck, that’s it, that's a good fucking girl,” he hisses, feeling you clench around him, your walls fluttering as you near the edge.
“you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls against your ear, bending over you now, his hot breath fanning against your neck. he bites down on your shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to drive you wild.
“you're gonna cum like the good girl you are?”
“yes n-ngh.. i’m close.. s-so close,” you whimper, your thighs trembling uncontrollably. his fingers press harder against your clit, his thrusts turning frantic.
“cum with me, baby” he demands, his voice thick and commanding. that’s all it takes. your body shatters. your vision going white as you scream his name. your walls squeeze him so tightly, milking his cock, and with a deep, guttural groan, he loses himself too, spilling inside you as his thrusts grow sloppy.
he stays buried inside you, his chest heaving against your back, both of you panting heavily. he leans down to press soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder.
after everything that just happened. you've made up your mind.
you're definitely going to ask for his number.
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a/n: erm.. don't get into random strangers cars !! haha
454 notes · View notes
delulujuls · 9 months ago
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i'd give you the whole world if i only knew its price | ls18
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am i a lance's girlie? no. am i becoming a lance's girlie? dont look at me
he seems so sweet idk why people hate on him
summary: lance's love language is giving gifts and when it came to giving something in return he'll accept only one way
warnings: none
pairing: fem!bffreader x lance stroll
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The little girl sat on the curb, tears streaming down her rosy, tear-stained cheeks. In her tiny hands, she held her shattered helmet, unfit for further use. The girl wasn't crying because her father had scolded her for accidentally damaging the helmet. Instead, it was because, until she could find a replacement, she wouldn't be able to race with the other kids. That is, if there were any funds available for a new one.
Seeing the seven-year-old in tears, a slightly older boy, aware of the reason behind her distress, approached her with his newly purchased helmet in hand, crouching down in front of her.
"Here, you can have mine."
The girl stopped sobbing as he sat beside her, handing her the helmet, which she hesitantly accepted.
"I can't take it, my dad doesn't have any money left."
"You can take it, I always have two helmets with me."
The boy smiled at her, but uncertainty still lingered on her face. He glanced toward his father, who stood under one of the tents, observing the children a few meters away. Seeing the tearful face of the girl and the joyful expression on his son's face, he also smiled slightly and nodded.
"See?" he said, squeezing her hands that held the helmet. "My dad agreed. You can take it as a gift."
"Really?"
While her face was still wet from tears, her eyes no longer radiated sadness. Looking into the brown eyes of the boy, he nodded and he stood up, extending his hand.
"By the way, I'm Lance. Now, come on, it's about to start!"
"Please, Y/N, don't be like that."
The boy slumped onto the hotel bed, closely watching the girl's face on his phone screen.
"I'm sorry, Lance, but I can't."
She replied, her phone propped up against a coffee mug, engrossed in browsing job listings on her laptop.
"Why can't you just take it as a gift?"
Y/N scoffed and shook her head.
"Every month you give me some gift, Lance. Last month, as a 'gift,' you bought me a Birkin bag, and I don't even want to know how much it cost."
"You said your bag was falling apart, I wanted to make you happy."
She sighed and shifted her gaze to her phone. Lance looked at her attentively with his puppy eyes, visibly concerned. He wasn't seeing any problem here.
"The bag is gorgeous, and you have no idea how much joy you brought me," she said with grattitude in her voice. "But even a simple Target bag would make me happy, you know?"
"Yeah, probably. But this one is okay too, right?"
She laughed and shook her head.
"It's beautiful. Thank you very much."
Hearing her words, Lance breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing her smile, he did the same.
"So, if you want to repay me, let me fly you to Bahrain."
She lowered her gaze, and the smile faded from her face. Barely scraping by on bills and struggling to find a new job, spending her remaining money on plane tickets was the last thing on her mind. Even if, it could cover just one ticket.
"I can't afford to visit you, Lance."
"That's why let me take care of it. We haven't seen each other for so long, and I want to finally see you and start this season together," he said, looking at her worried face. Money meant nothing to him; he could send a private jet to pick her up, just to have her with him. "Please, Y/N."
She sighed and shook her head.
"I feel so embarrassed. I'll never be able to repay you for all of this."
"So, is it a yes? Can I book the tickets?"
He asked, hope in his voice, and a smile slowly crept back onto his face.
"Fine, but no more gifts this month, okay?"
"I'll try to meet that condition."
Lance and Y/N had been friends since the day he noticed her crying next to the carting track, holding her damaged helmet. They remained friends through all the years of go-karting, and their friendship persisted even when Y/N had to give up racing due to financial reasons.
At first, though she shudders at the thought even now, she hated Lance with every fiber of her being. It wasn't him she despised, but the obscene amounts of money his father had, providing him with everything he could dream of. Y/N was aware that Lance had both many fans and critics, so every time she came across unfavorable comments about him online, she felt embarrassed. After all, she used to cry and curse him every night, even though deep down, she didn't hate him; she just disliked the situation he was in, which she was not allowed to have.
Lance himself knew that without money, he would never have entered the serious world of motorsport. Numerous training sessions, expensive lessons, academy tests – Lance knew that money secured his current position, but talent couldn't be bought. He knew he could drive, and even the people who hated him online knew it too, disliking him simply because he succeeded. Being in Formula 1 cost the Canadian a lot, as he constantly felt like he didn't belong there. Even in the paddock, despite rarely facing personal comments, he knew many saw him as the boy with his daddy's big money. Lance often felt lonely, so he deeply appreciated every moment he could spend with Y/N. No one was as important to him as she was.
However, Y/N focused on being an ordinary teenager after giving up her motorsport career. She finished high school, got into college, even found a job and rented an apartment. Although her life didn't unfold exactly as she wanted, she stayed connected to motorsport through Lance, whom she supported as much as she could. Now things were getting complicated again as the season was about to begin, meaning she could only cheer for him from her couch. But for Lance, there were no such limitations. If he could solve a problem with money, he would. Furthermore, Lance found immense joy in showering Y/N with various gifts. Giving her presents was his love language, something that Y/N had no clue about.
"There she is."
Lance smiled at the sight of his friend, who stepped out of the taxi in front of one of the Bahrain hotels. She returned the smile, hugging him.
"I was talking about the bag, but it's nice to see you too," he teased, pointing to the Birkin she was holding, prompting her to playfully nudge him. Lance chuckled and embraced her, taking her suitcase and leading her inside the hotel.
"I hope the flight was okay and you're full of energy because we're going to a team dinner tonight."
"So, basically your dad is inviting us to dinner?"
She asked jokingly, looking at him as they entered the elevator.
"Technically, yes, my dad is inviting us to dinner."
Y/N laughed, "Well, Lawrence Stroll can't be refused."
Shortly afterward, they were on the right floor where both of them had their rooms. Lance handed her the key card and when she entered her room, she noticed a bouquet of roses and a small package on the bed.
"Lance..."
Turning around, she saw him biting his lip, trying to hide his smile.
"Yes, yes, I know, we had a deal. But these roses were practically free and the little gift next to it is, let's say, a shared one."
He explained, putting aside her suitcase. She also placed her bag down and approached the bed, picking up the bouquet of white roses. She smelled one and smiled, feeling their pleasant fragrance. Lance smiled too.
"You're impossible, you know that?"
"Open the gift."
He encouraged her, leaning against the wall.
She smelled the flowers once more and put them aside, taking the small package wrapped in black ribbon. As she untied it and unwrapped the light-colored paper, she discovered the familiar shade of green. It was a long, satin dress with thin straps, in the characteristic color of Aston Martin. She smiled to herself.
"I guess this is for tonight's dinner?"
Lance nodded, "Do you like it?"
"It's beautiful," she ran her fingers over the fabric, "I hope you have a shirt in the same color."
He chuckled.
"Don't worry, I won't disappoint you."
Indeed, at the agreed-upon time, Lance showed up at her door, wearing a shirt in the same color, black jeans, and matching shoes. He smiled at the sight of his friend, who opened the door ready to go.
"You look gorgeous. The color suits you."
Y/N laughed and closed the door behind her.
"That's good because otherwise, I would have to wear the white dress I brought with me, and someone might think I'm supporting Haas."
Lance laughed at her words, pleased to spend these few days with his friend. Honestly, he only stopped feeling lonely when she was around or when they had the chance to talk on FaceTime. Of course, it wasn't the same as having her physically by his side.
The evening passed in a pleasant atmosphere and time flowed effortlessly. Lawrence invited everyone who had arrived with Aston Martin to Bahrain, so instead of reserving a specific number of tables, Lance's father rented the entire restaurant for the evening.
Celebrating the team's excellent work during the winter months, the tables were adorned with champagne and white wine. Y/N had forgotten how weak her head could be, so after two glasses of wine during dinner, a slight buzz started to occupy her mind. Apologizing to Lance under the pretext of going to the bathroom, she stepped outside, sitting on the balcony. Despite being February, Bahrain offered pleasant temperatures, and even after the dark, a warm breeze caressed her exposed arms.
"Here you are."
The girl jumped, hearing his voice.
"You weren't around for half an hour, and I had the waitress check if something happened to you in the bathroom."
"I needed some fresh air."
Y/N replied, smiling at him. She noticed Lance's steps were a bit unsteady and a blush adorned his cheeks. When he sat next to her, she giggled.
"I can't believe we got tipsy."
Lance chuckled and rubbed his face with his hands.
"I won't lie, I'm feeling a bit dizzy."
Still giggling, the girl rested her head on his shoulder. Lance wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his cheek on her head.
"I'm glad you came."
"I'm glad you invited me."
"I'd give you the whole world if I only knew its price."
Hearing his words, Y/N raised her head and looked at his face. His brown, gentle eyes gazed at her affectionately and a faint smile played on the corners of his lips. Lance tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, gently caressing her cheek with his thumb.
"I hate that I can't give you anything in return."
Lance smiled, "Actually, there's something you could give me in return."
The girl raised her eyebrows inquisitively.
"You could be my girlfriend."
Y/N blinked several times, unsure if her slightly intoxicated mind was playing tricks on her or if she understood Lance correctly.
"Do you want me to be your girlfriend?"
"Oh, God, you have no idea how much."
The girl smiled and, without saying a word, cupped his cheeks in her hands and kissed him. Lance hugged her even tighter, returning the kiss, feeling a burst of fireworks in his stomach. He could bring her joy with money, and she could do it in just one way.
"I love you, Lance."
With love.
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bitchimasnake-sss · 1 year ago
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"my girlfriend's a nerd" ft. the monster trio!
self explanatory self-indulgent drabbles to soothe my book!loving ass
ft. luffy, zoro and sanji x fem! reader set-up: you like books, he likes you that's it warnings: none lmao this is very sfw. one might call it wholesome even. m.list
luffy:
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thats my baby ^^
— im not even sure if this mf can read 😭😭
— honestly 9/10 chance he can't but when has that ever stopped him from being our most supportive himbo king
— go king give us everything!!
— he doesn't get why you read books when instead you can be like sleeping or eating or looking at the sea but well, he doesn't question it
— he just thinks it's a weird hobby you have (i don't think he's aware of how freakishly illiterate he is)
— but just cause he thinks it's weird that doesn't mean he wouldn't hug you half-asleep when he hears you sobbing into the dead of the night or he wouldn't listen with keen interest when you explain the plot of your favourite book as he wraps his arms around you and hums into your hair
— will 100% offer to fight the author/ tear up the book everytime he sees you having a breakdown over a particular scene/character
"who should I kill?!" the deadpan seriousness in his voice is what terrifies you
"nobody! I'm okay–"
— after you explain to him that hurting somebody is not necessary and you're fine, he will try to coddle you with extended hugs and food (lots and lots and lots of food).
"yn you should eat something! should I get you something to eat??" you can hear the panic in this poor boys voice 😭😭
"no luffy, its okay. im fine!" you say through sniffs and snorts, eyes bloodshot from crying over ink on paper
"brb" and he gets you dinner enough for 5 people because that's how he knows to comfort you (willingly took sanjis kicks and namis punches to accomplish this mission)
— since he's a clingy little child, he will hold onto you some way or the other when you're reading
— you're reading in your room while he's fast asleep? his arm is draped across your waist lazily. you're on the other side of the deck, sunbathing and reading? his hand is stretched out from where he's sitting and on your thigh (ussop tripped thrice over his hand, rip god ussop ���) . you're reading during breakfast cause the book just got so good? his toe is rubbing your calf up and down periodically (he won't stop no matter how many weird looks you give him)
— conclusion: he doesn't at all get it what it is, but if it makes you happy he will spend all the berries in the world to buy you those books (plz know if you actually ask him to jokingly off an author for killing your favourite character, he will do it. please don't ask him that.)
— he's just so supportive and nice 😭😭
"my girlfriends a nerd, I love her" (ussop explained to him what a nerd was and now he's introducing you like this to everybody)
zoro:
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the shades tho 😎
— I'm convinced this mf can't read either
— even he can there's like literally no evidence to prove it and the entire crew has come to the conclusion that he gets lost even with clear directions because he just can't read please 😌👌
— at the start, he actually thinks it's dead stupid to invest so much time reading books when you can do other stuff like getting stronger, sleeping, literally doing anything else (luffy backs up his opinion with full enthusiasm)
— i mean like he's seen you sob at 7 in the morning over breakfast cause your fav character died and now he's confused as to why are you spending money and buying books if they make you cry so hard (he doesn't understand the concept of angst im afraid)
— but over time he just accepts it as something you enjoy and well, if it makes you happy then who is he to question it?
— acts like he doesn't care/isn't listening when you're rambling about the plot and how thE MAIN CHARACTER IS IN LOVE WITH HIS ENEMY AND VICE VERSA SKEJFHSJKSN but is actually fully listening
— he's actually invested at one point
"but they are enemies? why does he wanna be with him?"
"you don't get it! thats the appeal!!"
"the appeal is forcing a knife on somebody's throat?" he's laughing, "as if you'd enjoy it if i threatened you with my swords"
"... i would actually enjoy that"
he is now asking nami for loan to send you to a therapist (nami has seen you nosebleed over fictional characters and is considering giving money away to zoro for free. you really do need help.)
— as I said, he's invested now (although he does question your taste every now and then) but he'd force you to either summarize the plot to him as he trains or read out loud so he can hear the story as it goes.
— so naturally you're now sitting on his back, reading out loud as he does push-ups
— this beloved himbo has now formed strong opinions about characters and will battle you with headcanons because "there's no fucking way the hero would ever go back to the villain after that! that's ridiculous! if he does I'll sell my swords off."
— will remember the stuff you told him, no matter how trivial, so if you get off an island and he spots a keychain from your fav book series he's spending whatever money he has left to buy you it
"oh excellent choice! who are you buying it for?" the shopkeeper lady questions aloud
"oh, my girlfriend." he's smiling, "my girlfriends a nerd."
— actually looks forward to you telling him all the plot details and jokes at this point (one might call him a part of the fandom now)
— when you're a crying, sobbing mess because a character died, he's genuinely comforting you (no matter how bad he is at it)
"yn it's okay, you want some sake?" he is hugging you, patting your head like you're a child
"no 😭😭" you sob harder into his chest
"well... that's the best i can offer"
he tried. it's not his fault you don't wanna drink your feelings away.
— conclusion: he started off thinking its stupid and now he's an honorary nerd. would never admit it though. stubborn asshole.
sanji:
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he's actually so pretty tho ^^
— he actually liked reading books before you even joined the crew although his tbr consists of cookbooks and auto-biographies about the people he has some interest in
— he started reading so that he could impress zeff with his knowledge on cooking and other miscellaneous stuff (imagine kid!sanji reading a book till late night under a lamp cause he wants to impress his old man that's so cute 😭😭)
— respects your hobbies when he finds out you like reading
— and then he sees your book collection. whY ARE THERE LIKE 5000 BOOKS HERE?! NOW HES SCARED FOR YOUR SANITY CAUSE GIRL WTF
— he hears you recommend a book to robin/nami once and now he's running to the nearest bookstore on the next island you guys land on to buy it
— he obviously did it to impress you and win you over but goddamn that book was actually pretty nice. so, the next time he asks you for recommendations he's actually a bit sincere
— now you're both in a book club of your own (which makes luffy mad cause why are you leaving him out of conversations :/)
— like zoro, he often asks for updates on the book you're currently reading while he cooks everyone food. he loves hearing you talk about the things you like.
— when he sees you crying over books, he is making you sweet stuff to soothe you, holding you and rubbing your back supportingly, peppering kisses to make you feel better
— he's so fine 😫😫
— anyways, also def the kind of person to ask you to roleplay things in real life
"yn-saaaan" his voice is bubbly, "can i ask you something?"
"mhm?"
"the last book you read–" his face is going a little bit red, "you think we can maybe... do that irl?"
now it's your turn to go red
— but no fr, he's so so supportive of your little hobby like yes baby! read those books and have fun imagining people in your head
— 100% matches your vibe when you crush on fictional characters cause "you're right. he is actually very attractive" (a bi king we love)
— once zoro made fun of you for reading and this was his response: "you can't even read, mosshead. the next time you speak shit I'll kick your ass."
"who said I CANT READ? AND AS IF ILL LET YOU KICK MY ASS!"
"I TOTALLY WILL KICK YOUR ASS"
now they are fighting while ussop, luffy and chopper laugh in the background
— but yes he loves staying up late, reading with you before you both cuddle and fall asleep
— you once read about a specific sort of dish in a book and mentioned that it sounds delicious so now obviously he has to go make that dish. it doesn't matter if it's 1 am at night.
— when nami asks him what he's cooking, he just smiles and shrugs, "i dunno either, im just trying to make yn happy. she's such a nerd"
— conclusion: an enabler, an enthusiast. this man is ready to buy you books and then read them if it makes you happy. only the finest for his favourite lady <3
a/n: enjoy my wayward thoughts about these fine men! m.list
2K notes · View notes
m-ilkiee · 6 months ago
Text
Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa
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Chapter 1: Warning Signals
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series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.
chapter summary: being friends with Emma Sano is nice, until you get on the wrong side of the Sano brothers.
content warning: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, misogyny, alcohol/drug use, brief mention of violence, religious and purity culture themes, classism, slutshaming, p*rn mention, sexual assault, noncon, public initimacy, fingering (fem recieving), dacryphilia, gaslighting, manipulation, mention of vomitting, victim blaming.
r-18+ (not suitable for 17 and under)
word count: 10.1k words
note: this chapter has been edited and the storyline shifted to the original plan for the series. consequent chapters 2-5 will follow suit and vastly vary from the og series i posted before.
masterlist||chapter2||taglist
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KNOWING how big both the TENJIKU and TOMAN fraternities were on campus, it was a bit awkward being friends with the youngest sister of two of the most popular guys in this school.
Any where you two went, she would always be the center of attention. You didn't really mind being in her shadow because as long as you have her, you’ll be fine. People called you a lost puppy, riding on Emma’s cocktails just to get by in university.
They didn’t know how you both have self-care days where you would paint your nails, wear facial masks and watch “Mean Girls” or “Clueless” on her laptop because you weren’t allowed to watch it when you were young. Or how the both of you always have study dates with hot coffee and exchanging annotated notes so that you both remain at the top of your game. They don’t know about the secrets you both share and the trust you both have for each other.
You don’t have to explain anything to anyone.
Emma is a pretty satisfied girl. Her college tuition is paid for in full and her time here has always been smooth. As far as you knew, she grew up being loved by all three of her brothers and they doted on her to the point she thinks they spoiled her.
-You don’t think they spoiled her -okay maybe a little with the way she spends money, but everyone has a vice. Right?
You could tell she knew what familial love is with how sweet and kind she was to you when you opened up about your family troubles.
The only issue is that her two brothers, Mikey and Izana, have been at each other's necks for some years now. Mostly Izana inciting violence at Mikey and Mikey retailiating; it’s the number one concern in the Sano household the way those two fight and argue.
From what Emma told you, Izana’s provocative nature was the gasoline to Mikey’s volatile mental state, akin to fire. Even the littlest of things that no one would bat an eye for could incite a bloody brawl between them. And as they grew older, more people were involved in their petty rivalry, since neither Emma nor Shinichiro agreed to take their side.
Despite the looming hostility, Mikey decided to throw in the towel and agree for a truce. At first, Emma couldn’t believe it. Until two weeks had passed and they hadn’t fought.
"They haven't gotten along at a stretch like this, I tell ya!" Emma had said excitedly while selecting what she would wear that day. You let out a small smile as she tossed multiple clothes on her large bed. Being the youngest had its perks, like how her oldest brother, Shinichiro paid for her to have the biggest room in one of the dorms all to herself.
You heard that on the front, he had one of the biggest Motorcycle brands and behind all of that, his real business was handling the black dragons, one of the biggest gangs in Japan.
You wonder how Emma feels about her brothers' lifestyle, but judging from her huge wardrobe and expensive jewelry, you don't think it bothers her too much.
Not like you cared either. To you, she was just Emma. Nothing more or less.
The blonde haired girl swiftly turns to you with two options in her hand, a pink sequined dress and a white halter crop top and a pink mini skirt with ruffles at the bottom. "I need to look really good today, which one says 'I'm so happy my brothers are not at each other's necks for once?' " She asked animatedly.
You've never seen her this happy since you met her, unless Draken was involved and somehow it made you happier too. It must be nice to be so close to your family members all the time and be able to mend your relationship with them.
You've never had that. You don't think of your family much. You don't wish to either, ever since your father cursed you out for rejecting a marriage proposal from one of his friends to pursue higher education and your mother stayed quiet, complicit -all the while silently seething that all her training went down the drain. The first time you ever went against their old fashioned ideals after years of obedience was met with immediate punishment.
Ironic.
You don’t regret it, though. Because you wouldn’t have met Emma.
"The second one is a better choice." You said with a smile, gazing at her with adoration in your eyes. “The skirt ruffles makes your legs look good. Pair it with the white strap heels and you’re good.”
The blonde broke out into a wider grin, the clothes pooling at her sides as she rested a hand on her hips. “Look at you giving me fashion advice.” She teased lightheartedly. “I feel like a proud mother growing up!”
“I learned from the best.”
You both fall into a comfortable silence and you take that time to admire her. You’ve always thought Emma was gorgeous, from her bright smile, to the twinkling of her eyes when she’s mischievous, to her enthusiasm for life in general. It was a no-brainer that guys would gravitate towards Emma and try their luck into dating her. Eventually the threat of her brothers or the threat of her equally terrifying friends with benefits who just happened to be the vice president of Toman, Ken Ryugi, would be enough to back off.
You wished you were as likeable and as beautiful as she was. You were always too shy to do anything or talk to people, let alone guys that you liked.
“So have you picked your outfit for the party?”
You’re snapped out of the trance-like state to see Emma standing in front of you, her body so close, you could smell her vivienne westwood. “Me?” You asked her, your tone laced with confusion. “I don’t think I’m gonna go.”
“And why is that?”
You paused, trying to organize your thoughts on how to break this to her without ruining her mood tonight. “I don’t think…” you took a deep breath before saying. “Your brothers would want me there.”
There’s a shift in her look, so minor but you could pick out the way her smile faltered. You both knew that her brothers could be… weird around you. It was something Emma couldn’t understand for the life of her.
Izana was usually very displeased with your presence and makes it very well known he doesn't want you there with snide remarks and forgetting your own order. His friends, for the fear of him, wouldn't speak to you either. It took Emma angrily yelling at him for him to be civil towards you. But the second she turned her back, Izana would go back to his usual self, being rude and peppering it with little acts of violence like pushing your hand so that your drink spilled all over the floor and even pushed your laptop bag to the ground, destroying the device you saved money to buy for months.
Mikey was on the other end of the spectrum. He would ignore your very presence and talk to everyone else but you and the rest followed suit. You’ve tried to at least make small talk with him, anything but he would talk over you. You heard from other people that he’s the nice brother and he’s usually so easy going- you’ve seen it with your very eyes the way he interacts with Emma’s other friends, Hinata and Senju.
And it hurts you. You’ve had a crush on him for so long, longer than you even knew Emma, so you don’t understand why he’s acting so differently with you. Seeing him talk with other girls sweetly makes you green with envy, wishing that it was you. Craving for just a piece of his attention.
Maybe he just doesn't like shy girls.
Only some guy named Takemitchi would try and explain that they don't hate you. It was surprising, considering that you knew people like Hakkai - whom you attended the same confirmation class and high school with- and even he made no effort to at least speak with you whenever you came to the frat house or met on the road.
You stopped bothering to make either of the Sano brothers like you, so long as they let Emma keep hanging out with you. It was obvious that they hold some animosity for you when you’ve done nothing to them.
“Nonsense!”
Before you could say anything, Emma pulled you up by your arm and dragged you off the bed towards her closet. “That’s a load of bullshit. There’s no way I’m leaving my best friend to rot in her room when there’s a Sano party going on.”
“But-”
“Nope!” She cut you off stubbornly, before pulling out some clothes from her closet, trying to match them with your skin tone. Satisfied with the outfit she picked, she puts the clothes in your arms and practically shoves you into her bathroom.
“EMMA-”
“Don’t Emma me, (name). You’re going to take a shower and by the time you’re out, I should be back with a makeup kit that suits you.” You tried to speak again but she silenced you by pressing a finger on your lips. “We’re going to be the hottest girls at that party, whether they like it or not.”
“But these look very short-”
“Sorry, can’t hear you, bye!”
You sighed when Emma shut the bathroom door in your face, locking it so that you would do what she said.
There was no winning with Emma when she made her mind up. Might as well follow through with it.
YOU had no idea how big this party would be.
You've come to the Toman frat house before with Emma to see Mikey and Draken once, and admired how large and spacious the three story building was. Now imagine that large of a space being cramped up with nearly the whole school's population.
Somewhat, you’re grateful that the outfit Emma lent you was as short as it was. The house was so hot, you could faint from how stuffy it was.
You hold on tightly onto Emma's hand, intertwined with each other as the both of you push through the big crowd, ignoring the sweaty, drunk students as you headed for the stairs. She, being used to parties like this, was able to navigate through the raging crowd with some form of ease.
After a few more squeezes, you both finally make it to the stairs.
As you both climbed up, you could see different people, all having fun in their own way. You're rarely invited to parties, so this was still more of a nouveau experience for you. A girl is asking for a light, a tiny blunt in between her teeth until another person lights it up for her. You see some guy shotgunning another girl, before melting into a hot kiss, tongue melding with each other. Someone else is drowning shot after shot and a couple is practically dry humping for everyone to see, a poor excuse to dance with the music.
The obscene sight surprisingly doesn’t disgust you, knowing your background, it just makes you curious. How would it feel to try one of those things? Smoking? Drinking? Making out with someone? Emma had told you about her own experiences; as long as you took it easy, it could be fun. Her first time with anything was with Draken and he was always gentle with her, plus her brothers were fine with it, even making sure whatever she took wasn’t laced with anything.
However, you were taught differently. That your body is a temple that you should keep clean for God and doing any of these things will sully you.
You didn’t believe that as much as you did when you were younger, but you didn’t want to test your luck either in case it ended up being true. Besides, you would look like a complete moron if you tried anything with them.
You tried as much as possible not to make it obvious that you're staring, but that failed when you caught the attention of a tall silhouette smoking. Sharp golden eyes stared you down and you instantly looked away, not wanting to get in trouble with some random guy.
You've heard rumors about Toman or Tenjiku guys absolutely beating anyone up for just staring at them wrong. You don't want to be victim number seventy-five this year.
Finally, you both reached your destination; a room on the second floor where Mikey had asked Emma to meet him. The ground floor was always the place where non-members stayed, trashed and partied. The first is accessible to all members of Toman (and now, Tenjiku) to hang out, have a private party and smoke. The second floor is only for executives and their girls or sisters.
You're a bit worried for yourself as Emma spoke to the person guarding the door. Mikey never said YOU could come along with Emma. You're no executive. You're no girlfriend of their executives and you are definitely not related to any of them. You had told Emma to leave you on the ground floor but she insisted that no one would be angry with your presence.
You've suspected that Emma has been trying to hook you up with someone in either of the fraternities. She was always insistent that you at least get to know them.
"(Name) come on."
Without waiting for your protest, Emma yanked you into the rather pristine room that housed the executives. Your eyes drank in the sight briefly, thanking God that it wasn't filthy or smelly as you had imagined it. The execs were all playing a game of poker, with an orange haired girl -Hinata Tachibana, his girlfriend, perched on Takemitchi's lap, laughing at his bad luck.
Emma's eyes quickly scanned around the room for a brief moment until she saw her two brothers sitting side by side, both engrossed in the game. Mikey’s blonde hair is tousled, like he’s been running his hand through it repeatedly. His baggy white shirt is unbuttoned half way and slips down his shoulder, revealing a black tank top and large jean trousers. Izana is different, white hair falling across his handsome face, leather jacket discarded on the back rest of the chair, leaving him in only a tight red shirt and tighter leather jeans, various chains and accessories hanging from his neck. Two earrings dangle from his ears- you can’t remember the name or significance.
‘They’re really good looking. Really-’
Without a warning, she lets go of your poor arm and jumps on top of Mikey and Izana, tackling them into a hug. Cards fly as she squeezes them hard, to which they discard their initial anger of losing their deck and hugging her back.
"Emma, next time give us a warning, will you?" Mikey pouted. You thought it looked cute, but immediately discarded that stupid thought. The guy hates your guts, don’t think he’s hot. "You ruined my game."
"As if you weren't losing dipshit." Izana teased, his face more relaxed than you’re used to seeing. "She did you a favor. You were down to 100 chips."
"You were down to 50. Who's the loser?"
"Still you."
You could see a smile tug at the corner of her lips lift up as she stands up. "Finally glad that two of you aren't strangling each other for once." She said triumphantly, hands on her hips. Her voice has a pep to it. "Last time both of you were in the same room, it didn't end well."
"Doesn't mean I'm not thinking about it." Izana scoffed. Suddenly, his purple eyes left his sister's face and trailed onto you who just stood a few feet away, awkwardly. You watched in real time as his smile fell, his features darkening the moment he locked gazes with you.
Dear God.
"What is SHE doing here?"
His harsh tone made everyone in the room shift their attention towards you. Your blood ran hot with embarrassment, feeling Izana’s purple eyes scan you up and down in disgust while everyone else just looks at you. Mikey’s gaze burned holes into you as well, silently asking you what the fuck you were doing here.
It was obvious. They never wanted you here. This entire thing was a mistake from the beginning.
"I-I'm glad I could walk with you all the way here, Emma" you stuttered, lying through your teeth. You didn't like the way both brothers were staring at you, like they could walk over to you and wring your neck at any moment. "I'll go join the party downstairs now, so I guess I'll see you soon-"
Pulling away from her brothers abruptly, the blonde girl rushed over to you and grabbed your arm, halting your attempt at running away as she dragged you back in place. You cursed underneath your breath at Emma’s desperate attempt to try to get you to stay.
“Hold on, now (name). I’ll talk to them” Emma whispered reassuringly, before turning to her brothers and increasing her voice in full volume. "She's here with me, is there a problem?”
There was a tense silence in the room as everyone stared at you. Mikey's tone was ice cold as he directed his angry gaze at you, dark eyes scanning down your body. You shuddered when his gaze settled on your legs just briefly before snapping back at Emma’s face.
"Emma. When I sent you that text, I specifically said you should come ALONE."
You felt your heart twist in your chest at the emphasis of that word from none other than Mikey. He really hated you.
"Come on Mikey. This is ridiculous." Emma plead your case. You don't realize you're shaking until your friend squeezed your hand gently in an attempt to calm you down and you squeezed back, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. "Why would I leave her downstairs?"
"Because that’s where all the beggars like her stay."
Your eyes widened the second the words left his mouth, Emma following suit at his words. The shock was soon replaced by embarrassment as Izana looked at you with a devious smile on his face, continuing his verbal assault. "What? I was just making an astute observation. You did say she was poor, so am I really wrong?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you Izana-”
“Wait-” Mikey cuts in again, holding a hand to silence her, his eyes fixated onto your outfit, the wheels in his brain turning as he scanned your clothes from head to toe. You suddenly felt naked in the simple white top and jean skirt you wore, as he actually looked at you properly for the first time.
Your shyness is quickly short lived as his facial expression morphed from one of neutrality to nothing but pure rage.
“Is that the jean skirt I bought for you, Emma?”
Your heart dropped at how loud he barked, completely silencing everybody in the room. All eyes fell on you now, putting you at the center stage of attention. Emma quickly pushed you behind her, trying to shield you from their staring the moment she realized what was about to happen.
“Mikey, wait, I was the one who insisted she should wear it, not her.” Emma started to explain, her tone apologetic. “She had nothing to wear and i gave her those since you complained she dressed like a nun-”
“So you decided to dress her up like a cheap hooker instead?” Izana scoffed nonchalantly, his eyes flickering over to your outfit. “You know your clothes looks so cheap and washed out on her. She looks like she stands on the streets and asks for sex in exchange for money.”
"Izana!”
Emma started to reprimand her brother when Mikey cut in again to join Izana in practically insulting you. “Come on Emma, look at your friend. One wrong move and she’ll flash her panties. Don’t you think she’s looking a bit too desperate?”
Your hand flies to the edge of your skirt, dragging it down to try and cover up your legs as the gazes of the men leering at your legs. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Mikey, who is quick to point it out. “See? Even your friend knows she looks like a hooker. She’s trying to pull your skirt down because she knows she’s guilty...”
Each word seemed to stab you in the heart multiple times. You quickly averted your eyes to the ground as he continued to berate you about your looks, tearing down your confidence bit by bit with each word until you're reduced into nothing but nerves and silent tears. Everyone was staring at you now, scrutinizing gazes drinking in the sight of your exposed flesh, snickering quietly.
Unwanted attention.
"Next time, she shouldn't dress like this if she wants to tag along with you…"
“THAT IS ENOUGH."
Emma’s voice rang through the entire room, anger evident in her tone. The two brothers sat there in silence, stunned at the kind of tone Emma had just used on them right now, as if they’ve never heard or seen her this angry in their life before. You could feel her tremble violently, her grip on your hand tightening as fury radiated from her body.
You were sure she’s holding back things to say with how badly she is shaking. Like she doesn’t want to say anything that she might regret saying. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it immediately, as if biting her words back.
"We're leaving."
“EMMA-”
“Oh come ON-”
Emma threw an arm around you and guided you out of the room amidst her brothers yelling at her to come back. Your friend is gentle with you, hiding your teary face from prying eyes as she leads you through the stairs. The loud music was enough to mask your uncontrolled sobbing, but it didn’t stop people with prying eyes from turning their gazes towards you, wondering what the hell happened to you.
You had never felt this embarrassed in your life. As much as Emma tried to comfort you on your way to her room, their words kept on reverberating in your head. You knew how hard it was to get out of that mindset and now, every confidence you worked for, has crashed down like a pile of cards. Even the way they looked at you made you feel so sick to your stomach.
You've been drilled into as a young child that you're dressed the way you're addressed and because of that, you have always made sure you looked modest enough. You were used to your brothers calling innocent girls whores because of what they wore, that they were asking for it.
And now witnessing it first hand just made you feel so dirty. From the way they looked at you, to how they spoke about your body. It made you ill to the core.
You’ve never been so humiliated in your life.
The two of you managed to walk back to Emma's room, since hers was closer. Her phone never stopped buzzing all through your journey, even when you got back to her room. You could see the pain in her eyes as she ignored each call, only worsening your guilt. You wished you had stayed back in the dorms instead of ruining her night; she was supposed to be having fun, not walking you back to your room prematurely because you couldn’t take criticism.
"You should pic-"
"No (name)." Emma was quick to assert as she helped you lay down on her queen sized bed, the soft surface. "You don't need to feel pity for them, you're the one they hurt, not the other way around."
You wanted to protest when she fell on the bed beside you, yanking her covers over you both and encasing you in a hug. "You don't have to worry about them. I just want you to feel better." She whispered in your ears, rubbing your back gently. "You looked good tonight."
You could only nod in response at Emma's affirmation, wanting to so badly believe her. You want to believe what Emma thinks about you but you just can’t when you feel like abject filth. Your lips began to wobble, tears rolling down your cheeks once again as their words rang in your ears.
Months of unpacking that trauma, flushed down the drain by a single action.
Emma didn't say anything in response to your fresh tears, she only hugged you tight and rubbed circles on your back to soothe you until you cried yourself to sleep.
   “YOU implied that she’s a fucking prostitute Mikey, what the hell did I misunderstand?”
You woke up with a start on hearing Emma’s harsh tone echo throughout the room.
You opened your eyes groggily, rolling the covers down a little bit to see what was going on. She was standing at the open door, changed into her pink nightgown, her hair cascading down her shoulder as she argued with someone in the hallways. You push the covers a little further to see who she was talking to, catching a glimpse of a blond haired male standing in the hallways, blocking the only source of light filtering into the room with his body.
“Don’t yell at me, I’m still your older brother.”
‘Mikey?’
You perk up at his voice, instantly awake hearing his irritated tone. What was Mikey even doing in the female dorms by this time of the night? You glance at Emma’s sanrio clock on her nightstand that reads 00:00am. By now, no male student is supposed to be here, but knowing how influential Mikey is, he might have bribed the security to let him in.
His quiet sigh interrupted your thoughts and you turned your attention back to them, wondering what was going on. He started talking again, taking a tone much softer than before. “You’ve changed Emma. You blow me off to spend time with a stranger-”
“She is not a strang-”
“She is to me. You have enough friends Emma, what do you need this one for? What’s so fucking special about her?” His voice grows harsh again as he goes off a tangent about you. “You’re gonna get tired of her Emma. She’s a new thing but sooner or later you’ll get sick of her.”
Your heart broke at Mikey’s words. Is that what he thinks of you? This was supposed to be the easy going guy on campus that helped girls cross the street and everyone liked?
What did you ever do to him?
“Stop it!” Emma hissed underneath her breath, trying to keep her voice down but drive her point across simultaneously. “Stop talking about (name) like she’s a pet or a fucking toy Mikey. I care for her and I won’t stand you talking shit about her.”
“Em for fuck sake, just get dressed and get your ass back to the party.” Your jaw nearly dropped at how he’s quick to switch topics, ignoring what she just said. “Draken’s waiting downstairs and Izana’s gonna be pissed if you don’t come back.”
“You’re gonna ignore everything I just said right now, huh?”
“Em-”
“You and Izana can go fuck yourselves.”
“You can’t be seriou-”
Emma didn’t let him finish when she slammed the door in his face, turning the key as fast as possible. Her body sagged on the door, a quiet ‘god’ escaping her lips. Her silhouette stayed in that position for two full minutes before she walked to the bed again.
In silence, she laid beside you, wrapping an arm around your body and dragging the blankets over you both once again. You felt safe.
   THE next few days after the party were eventful.
Emma had spent them with you, hanging out in the library to study and going to your work place after a hard day at school, just sitting and talking with you when there was no customer around. You ended up in your dorm room or hers afterwards, eating the snacks you both got from shops around the school.
It was nice. Emma was usually busy with other things, so having her with you all the time seems so perfect. You enjoy the quality time you spend with her, really.
But guilt wouldn’t let you do so.
She had isolated herself from her friend group affiliated with either of her brothers, ignoring their pleas to at least talk to either Mikey or Izana. Hina or Senju would try to walk up to her on her way to class and Emma would outright ignore them. In a span of days, you’ve seen countless plushies, perfumes, expensive jewelry thrown into the dustbin, either from Mikey or Izana at the back of her dorm- their apology ripped letters ripped to shreds.
You had taken the time to piece one from Izana together and felt your heart bleed at his begging for them to “please work it out. We may not be siblings by blood but you’ll always be my little sister” and Mikey’s “Em I’m sorry for everything. Please let’s talk, I’ll listen to you.”
Your brothers had never done anything like that before. Usually, they would tell you to suck it up or even laugh at you for being too ‘sensitive’.
Then and there, you decided to talk to either of the Sano brothers in hopes you would mend their relationship. A naïve part of you thinks that this is the right thing for you to do; Emma has done so much for you, it’s time to return the favor.
You hadn’t told Emma what you planned on doing, knowing very well that it would make the poor girl far more furious than she was already. She would tell you that you have nothing to apologize for and get angry with you for suggesting to make peace with them, claiming you did nothing wrong.
The last thing you want is to escalate the issue. You just wanted Emma’s happiness.
You gripped the strap of your tote bag firmly, your eyes fixated on Mikey’s Chevrolet that was outside your department, possibly waiting for Emma to come out so that he would talk to her. Gathering all your courage, you walked towards the car and gently knock on the passenger’s seat tinted window to get his attention.
It wound down immediately, revealing the blonde haired man staring back at you with an annoyed expression.
“Are you trying to break my window?”
His rude tone made you instantly regret even trying to talk to him. Unfortunately for you, the decision was made and you stuck to it. ‘The letters, remember the letters’ You whispered to yourself. “I’m sorry Mikey I didn’t mean-”
“Manjiro.”
You blink twice at his interruption, trying to make sense of what was going on. “Huh?”
“Only my friends call me Mikey and as far I’m concerned, you aren’t one of them.”
There it is. That same attitude of that night. It almost made you angry with the way he was talking to you. You had every right to walk away from him - he was the one consistently harassing you, not the other way around, so who does he think he is?
Instead, you took a deep breath, thinking about just being the bigger person and how you want to make peace with him, so that everything returned to normal. “Okay, I’m sorry about your window Manjiro.” You added politely. “Can we talk?”
He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously and you expected him to roll up his window and just drive away after that.
“Get in.”
You were shocked, but that quickly wore off when he opened the door for you to enter. You settled in quickly, snapping the seatbelt on after closing the door behind you.
There’s tense silence between the two of you as the car moved towards a more secluded part of the campus. You anxiously looked at your lap while he drove, wondering how you were going to start the conversation with him without instantly setting him off. Your gaze eventually drifted up to his face; from his half-lidded dark eyes to his straight nose, down to his soft pink lips.
You could see the resemblance between him and Emma, from their facial structure to genuinely good skin -not to mention they were both attractive. Despite his height, you knew a large amount of girls that crushed on him religiously, you included. You heard he treated any girl he was with, from his ex-girlfriends to his situationships, down to his one night stands with utmost respect and care. And despite everything he’s said to you, unlike his brother, he never hurt you violently or physically.
You just wished he was just as polite with you as he was with other girls. Maybe you could bring it up in discussions.
The car stops, bringing you back to reality. You realized that he had parked behind an abandoned class far behind the rest of the school. According to the university’s history, this was the first ever lecture hall that was built for the school, and eventually they decided not to renovate it as a remembrance from their little beginnings.
Or they didn’t want to spend any money on it.
Mikey switched the engine off, completely silencing the environment between the two of you. It is then that the realization hits you. You’re all alone with one of the most dangerous guys in this school, in a place where no one could hear you even if you scream. The thought makes you nervous, hoping to high heavens that Manjiro doesn’t want to hurt you.
“Well?” He asked, breaking the ice between the two of you. Mikey leaned back on the driver’s seat, turning to look at you. “You wanted to talk? Start talking.”
‘Okay. I can do this’ You whispered gently, exhaling through your lips. You can do this. “Mike- I-i mean Manjiro, I know it’s awkward, after everything that happened at the party and now it’s all a mess.” You cringed at the way you’re jumbling your words, this was not how it was meant to go. “We still haven’t resolved things yet-”
“We?”
You’re taken aback by his shocked tone as if he didn’t remember what both he and Izana had said to you, but when he doesn’t elaborate further, you take matters into your own hands. “Yes. You both said some unsavory things to me that hurt me that day, and it made Emma mad.” You paced yourself, not wanting to start rambling again. “I also want to apologize for disrupting your party by taking those words to heart and if I have offended you in any way, please forgive me.”
There’s an unreadable expression on his face, as if he’s slowly processing all the words you had just said. You watched his reaction morph from surprise to blankness, nothing on his face, which scared you more than any other expression.
“Get out of my car.”
What?
You quickly turned to the man, trying to understand what you had done wrong. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go in your head. You expected that Manjiro would be civil enough to at least apologize for his actions too or talk, not this.  “Wait, Manjiro, what did I say wrong-”
“You don’t even realize you’re the problem!” You nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden increase in his pitch as he bares out his frustration with you. “Em can never fucking shut up about how I need to apologize to you whenever I try to talk to her! It’s always about you, you, you! It’s frustrating.” he snapped. “Ever since you came into Em’s life, she just can’t help herself bringing you up. It’s always shit like ‘Oh, (name) is such a nice girl, you should talk to her, she’s a good listener.’ ‘Sorry I can’t come to the outings, I have to study with (name), you know she can’t go alone anywhere’ ‘Oh, this reminds me of (name), she can’t even say the word sex without hiding her face, she’s so innocent.’ She’s so fucking enamoured with you and we’re sick of it.”
You knew the brothers were extremely family motivated, but you had no idea that you were getting in the way of them spending time together. “I didn’t know...” Your voice shakes, tone apologetic as your gaze falls onto your lap. “I…I didn’t know I was causing a rift between you guys, I’m so sorry. I just want to make up for everything and put this behind us.”
A tense silence followed, and you didn't look up from your lap to look at Manjiro, still intimidated at his sudden outburst. You could understand their aversion to you, their family is quite close and their bonds intertwined; so for a stranger to barge in and attempt to tear things apart, even unknowingly can be frightening for them.
Not like you would know what it is like for family to love you.
Eventually, you feel Manjiro turn his gaze towards you, dark eyes scanning your figure until settling on you. You held your breath as he finally cleared his throat, turning his attention to you fully for the first time, ever as he began to speak.
“You want us to make up.”
His tone was plain, as opposed to how angry he sounded a few moments ago. Somehow, you feel weird, slightly more alert than before as he pauses again, goosebumps littering your skin. ‘What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel so scared as he’s staring at me?’ you questioned yourself, before shaking your head, clearing your thoughts. ‘This is Mikey I’m with. Sure, he’s intimidating, but he would never hurt a girl. He’s a good guy.’
You decided to push your odd feelings aside. You were here for peace, not to think ill of him, not especially when you have a soft spot for him in your heart. And you wanted it to happen by any means necessary. Maybe showing him you were not a threat to his place in Emma’s life would make him feel much better around you. “I know that you may not trust me, but maybe if you got to know me better, and I also got to know you and your friends, you’ll see I mean no harm.”
“Is that so? You want us to know each other better?”
It was slight, but you could hear it. The slight mocking tone in his voice and instantly you felt stupid. It was clear he wasn’t taking you or your request seriously as you hoped he would, opting to see right through you instead as he stared at you, his gaze lingering to your hands lying in your lap.
“I-i feel like you’re not taking me seriously-"
“If you wore a longer skirt, then I wouldn’t have gotten so distracted.”
You instantly felt self-conscious when you realized where his gaze truly was from that moment on, and started dragging down your skirt to cover the space between your thighs and socks. The action only seemed to annoy him. “This is my problem with you. If you knew it was short, why did you wear it then?”
“I thought it was cute-” You felt stupider, uttering those words, but before you could say anything else, Mikey cut you off. “I never said it wasn’t cute, (name). It’s a cute skirt. It looks good on you.”
Your heart jumps in excitement at his compliment, your entire body getting warm at his words. “Really?” You uttered shyly, letting your guard down as a small smile crawls up your pretty lips.
“Yeah, real cute. You’d fit as one of the actresses featured in the schoolgirl category on a porn site.”
Your smile dropped instantly as the words left his mouth. “I’m not a slut.” your voice trembled, but just like arguing with your father, it’s no use. He let out a loud scoff, his gaze flickering from your face to your lap, settling between your legs. “But you dress like one. So might as well just perform for me, hmm?”
Your body tenses as you feel a hot palm grab at your exposed thigh, crawling underneath your skirt. You quickly push his hand off your thighs, earning a somewhat shocked reaction from him, as if he’s not used to being rejected. “I’m not…” you start to explain to him, slowly reaching for the door in a bid to escape. “... I don’t do things like that-”
“Does it look like I fucking care?” The blonde man snapped back at you, his surprise giving way to annoyance and he started to grab at your thighs again, only to be brushed off by you, angering him further. “I know you’re not as “innocent” as you claim to be. Stop fucking pretending. I know you want this!”
“I said I don’t do stuff like that! Stop it!” You yelled back at him, frustrated that he can’t just take no for an answer. You try to pry the door open or undo the latch, only to discover that it was stuck and that there was no way out.
‘No, no, no, no…’
Your heart starts hammering loudly in your chest, dread filling your veins when you realized how alone and utterly fucked you are.
You’re beginning to realize that Manjiro driving the both of you to a secluded place in the middle of nowhere was most likely intentional. He must have planned this so that no one would hear you both.
“Manjiro open the door or I’ll- I’ll-” 
“Or you’ll what?” He spat back, dangling the keys before your very eyes before putting it somewhere you couldn’t see. “You wanna open the door so bad? Get the key from me then.”
You’re quick to react, lunging forward in an attempt to snatch the key for him. He easily resisted you grabbing at his body while laughing at your repeated screams to stop. It was like the more you begged and pleaded for him to let you go, the more he liked whatever game he was playing.
“THIS ISN’T FUNN- MANJIRO!”
Your screaming did nothing to deter him from practically jumping on you and pinning your arms against your chest with one firm hand, a leg separating your thighs. You twisted and turned, trying to fight your way out of his tight grip but to no avail. He was heavy and stronger than you had imagined, holding onto you like you weighed nothing at all.
His other hand reached underneath your skirt, skimming through your panties, making you squirm in your position at the feeling. Panic rises against your chest as he pushes the crotch part aside, revealing your pussy. “Wait! Wait, please Manjiro, I’m a virgin-” you try to reason with him as he traces through a streak of your hairy vulva, curling a strand in one finger before moving to your clit.
“You don’t shave?” His tone is so casual, like he isn’t doing something very abhorrent and wrong right now. His question is left hanging in the air as his finger starts to slowly circle around your clit. "Not like I care, it's better this way, anyways."
You’ve never been touched before. You’ve never touched yourself there either. You grew up in a household that taught you that anyone who isn’t your husband touching you is wrong. Your body is a temple to be kept for your husband.
So when Mikey’s slow and sensual movement against your clit begins, your body nearly seizes up with sensitivity. A loud gasp escapes your lips, followed by heavy breathing, your body shuddering with something unfamiliar and electric, sending signals that you didn’t know how to respond.
He strokes you faster, rubbing your sensitive nub in circles that has your eyes glazing over and your hips moving to feel more of his touches, wetting his car seat and your skirt with arousal. Mikey watched with interest the way you closed your eyes tight, your head lolled towards the side as your chest rises and falls, quiet ‘oh’ leaving your lips. He started to take it a step further, leaning over to your neck and trails kisses from your pulse point, to your jawline. He moved up to your ear and his long tongue darted towards the shell, licking it.
“Manjiro-” You gasped at the foreign wetness, with each flick of his tongue, sending pleasurable shivers down your body to your very core. Encouraged by your somewhat positive response, he continues licking your earlobe, his teeth occasionally grazing the shell as his fingers progressively leaves your clit, gathering your slick between his two fingers and tracing the outline of your hole.
“Shit” he groaned, feeling how wet you were. “You’re so wet right now, I could just slide in your pussy with ease.”
You wanted to protest when you felt two thick fingers inch into your unused hole. You wanted to push him off you and run out of the car until you were far away from him. Every part of your mind, your heart, everything in you wants Mikey OFF you as he forces your hole to accept his fingers.
And yet, you couldn’t even scream, you couldn’t claw at his face to scratch his eyes out for doing this to you. No. Instead, you’re arching your back and breathing his name into his ears over and over again, your hands clenched tightly in his grip as his fingers stretched your pussy out. All you do is tear up and let this sick pervert lick the salt rolling down your cheeks off, before going back to kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear.
“You’re so pretty when you cry f’me. Come on, keep making those noises.” 
He curled up his fingers, experimentally looking for that spot as the burn graduated to a pleasurable stretch, repeated moans leaving your lips. He fingered you, progressively increasing his speed and pleasure overriding your senses as he circled his thumb over your poor nub, simultaneously with him curling up your g-spot.
Your body responded to his touches, lips kissing up and down your neck, licking your pulse point before sinking his teeth and mouth on it, making you gasp loudly.
Everything was too much. Your pussy tightened around his fingers, thighs trembling as he brought you closer to the edge. His lips left your neck and kissed up to your jaw, then the corner of your lips, pumping into you faster until you started to spasm.
“M-manjiro I-i feel, I feel- hngh-”
You arched your back uncomfortably with a strangled cry, soaking his fingers as your vision went blinding white. Your body trembled as he fucks and kisses you through your orgasm, shaking in his grasp until you fall limp on the chair, well spent.
You’re catching your breath as his fingers slid out of your pussy, a string of your cum connecting them. Manjiro looked at his soaked fingers with interest, before popping them in his mouth and humming to himself in approval. The sight feels so wrong to look at and you can’t find the strength to look away as he licked his fingers clean of your musky taste.
You don’t say anything when he let go of your wrists and adjusted your panties so that it covered your pussy. The blonde haired man climbed back to his seat, starting up the engine of his car again.
He doesn’t say anything when you start sobbing.
   “I GOT you food.”
You didn’t respond to Manjiro, hanging your face as tears rolled down your face. It’s the position you had assumed since he climbed off your body, something he couldn’t get you out. He thought that maybe if he got you some food, maybe you’ll ease up and eat.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Kissing his teeth, he entered back into the driver's seat before closing the door behind him, tossing the food at the back seat. You could tell from the way he was muttering underneath his breath that he was growing more annoyed with you. “Honestly, I don’t know why the hell you’re crying. You’re still a virgin. I didn’t force myself on you.”
You didn’t know what else to expect from him. That he would even offer you a shred of apology for what he did? The way his words are so callous, lacking any form of tact in the way he’s brushing off what he just did tore you apart.
Emma had painted this man as someone who would hang the moon and stars for her. Someone she knew she could call if anything was going to happen to her, who would fight through hell and back for her safety. She had told you of how he beat up anyone that touched her wrongly and how he would try to make her forget anything unpleasant. To Emma, Mikey was her knight in shining armor, her hero.
This was a man you had loved with all your heart. Manjiro was your first ever crush, and the more good you heard about him, not just from Emma, but from other girls too, the deeper you fell for him. You had admired him from afar, your heart set onto him as you hoped to be at least close to him. Despite everything, he was the sun in which everyone revolved around, the heart throb of your dreams.
But when you turn to look at him through your teary gaze, watching him rev up his car engine with a nonchalant expression on his face, all you see is a vile soul.
You felt sick.
“I’m going to tell Emma.”
Your voice was quiet, hoarse from all the sobbing but the anger was evident. There was no way you were going to let him get away scott free. You knew that the police would be as good as useless because you’ll have no evidence by the time you manage to file a complaint. The school authorities won’t help you either as Shinichiro Sano was one of their biggest benefactors and everyone in the faculty loved Manjiro despite his tendency to be disrespectful.
But if you told Emma, you know she’ll believe you. Even if the entire world was against you and for him, you would still be able to get her to take your side and stand with you.
You’re sure name dropping his little sister would make him scared at the very least. Mikey loved her to death, she had this perfect image of her sweet older brother that he has to uphold at the very least.
Without skipping a beat, he dropped his own phone straight onto your lap before continuing to focus on the road. Eyes wide, you turned your head to Mikey to see any form of reaction, even him flinching slightly.
Nothing.
Your mouth hung open at how he just blankly stared at the road ahead of him, his grip on the steering wheel normal as he drove you back to campus. As if he’s innocent, like he didn’t force his fingers into your panties and violate you.
His nonchalance irritates you; it’s as if he doesn’t care what you say or do to him.
“What?” you questioned him, wondering where the hell he dropped his humanity? Any other person would have reacted; begging you, threatening you or even giving a flimsy apology. “-why did you drop this on my lap?”
“You wanna call her? Go ahead.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Not like you told me no when I was fingering you.”
“That’s not how it works!”
“Then how does it work?” He cuts you short, taking a right turn to park outside of your faculty building. He puts the car in park before turning to face you. “You walk up to my car to ask me if we could talk, wearing that kind of skirt that gave me access to you. When I told you to get out, you didn‘t leave. You never told me to stop and you didn’t struggle. You know what you did instead?”
“Sto-”
“Ah ah- Manjiro” he mocked you in a high pitched voice, making you cover your ears in humiliation, not wanting to hear anything from him. You wanted to throw up, ruin his car. You want the ground to swallow you whole, anything that would take him far away from you. “Ah, mmh Manjiro, mmh mhhh ah ah- you moan like a pornstar by the way. You seem like you enjoyed being treated like that.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but all you felt was bile rise up to your throat. A part of you nagged that he had a point; you never said anything that sounded like ‘stop’ or ‘no’ and how you positively responded to his touches. ‘You even orgasmed.’ A gnarly disgusting voice bubbles up in your head, in defense of Mikey. ‘It was obvious you enjoyed it. Every second of it.’
You tried to deny it. Try to block out that voice as you attempt to remember everything you were told about assault. You’re fighting a war in your head, against the intrusive voices as you picked up the phone to tell Emma. ‘She’ll believe me. She’ll believe me-’
“Face it. You’re just overreacting because you liked what we did.”
Those words were the final nail to the coffin. The phone lies in your limp hand, finger just above Emma’s line to call her. Everything that led up to this point involved your choices. To stay in his car. Not fighting harder. Never screaming no.
You let him dirty your temple.
Mikey spared you one more look, dark eyes scanning every inch of your crumpled form. He slides the device out of your hand, placing it back in the middle of his car before grasping your hand in his.
“Alright, stop crying.” he soothed in faux sympathy, thumb tracing over the back of your palm. “I’ll take you shopping and buy you new clothes, hmm? And I’ll buy you anything else you want. Okay?”
You should known better to believe him. After everything he has done to you, from consistently insulting you, to assaulting you and then making you feel guilty for giving him the opportunity to do so.
And yet, you’re nodding along, agreeing with him and letting his warmth engulf you. “Okay.” You said in a small voice, your free hand grasping the hem of your skirt tightly.
“Look at me.”
You felt another hand grasp your chin, forcing you to look at his face, dark eyes peering at your face. “I don’t like that look on your face.” You wince as his fingers tightened around your jaw, your heart hammering against your chest when he commanded you once again. “Smile.”
You don’t know what else to do. With Mikey, it’s like going to a war knowing fully well you would lose.
And so you do as you’re told. Your lips lifted at the corners forcefully and you gave your best smile. He returned it with a smile of his own, genuine to the point his eyes dilated.
“Good girl. You look so much better.”
Your mouth went dry at his statement when he withdrew from your body and unlocked the door for you. Deciding not to ponder on it, you reach for the handle to leave. You had a class in an hour’s time and you were supposed to meet up with Emma beforehand to return her laptop that you borrowed for her project.
“Wait.”
You paused in your tracks, your hand hovering above the door handle. What else does he want from you?
“Your makeup is ruined. Fix it. You don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea that I hurt you when we were just playing with each other.”
Bile rose into your mouth once again at his words, but you hold yourself from doing anything that would set him off. You only nodded in response before opening the door and exiting the car. Tears threatened to escape your eyes as you hurried off to class, your throat burning with anger as you gripped both your tote bag and the food he had gotten for you, hard. Your body shook with each step feeling the intensity of his dark eyes burning into you.
You never touched the food, throwing it in the trash bin due to your appetite eluding you, replaced with a sinking feeling of pain and humiliation into your stomach. You don’t make it to the rest of your classes either, opting to lock yourself in a toilet, a loud cry ripping from your throat into your palms as your heart breaks into tiny pieces.
How could this have happened?
Bonus Scene:
MIKEY never tore his gaze from you as you disappeared into the building. Dark eyes watched as your ass bounced in that jean skirt you had worn today, nearly reviving the boner he had prior. He had to admit, notwithstanding his absolute disgust for you, you were a sight for sore eyes - pretty, naive, inexperienced and tight. So goddamn tight.
He’s never been with an inexperienced girl before. Not even when he lost his virginity in high school. It didn’t hurt that you also had the sexiest thighs he’s ever seen either, soft and doughy underneath his touch.
You weren’t as stupid as he thought -far from it. Mikey knew your strategy; picking your battles carefully. You’re rightfully afraid of both him and Izana. You were even more afraid of losing face with Emma, the only friend you managed to make here, which is why you came to him because you felt guilty for making her mad at them.
If played right, they could have you underneath their thumb like they do with the rest of Emma’s other friends. All this was to keep an eye on their little sister in the long run, to restore the natural order and balance that was their system. Family came first, then the gang, then their friends and finally, if they cared enough, their lovers. It’s a cycle that Mikey is used to, being the center of attention in Emma’s life and sharing that space with Izana. Even Draken knew that there are times he shouldn’t intrude when the two brothers are with her.
But you had no regard for the order of things. You just tried to insert yourself into his and Izana’s circles, as if you were somebody of any importance and not just another, a little gnat.
To Mikey, you deserved to be crushed like the annoying gnat you are. Seeing you cry and tremble underneath his touch, hearing you moan and beg him like a slut made him feel good.
Mikey looked at the building again before looking at his watch. He had to attend his criminology lecture by 3pm since he had a presentation today and it was already 1:30pm, having taken out time to talk to you. The frat member he gave his presentation to edit must be waiting for him at the coffee shop.
“I might not be able to meet up with ‘Zana.” He muttered, picking up his phone to dial him up instead. Finally, after the fifth ring, his line went through, his rough voice echoing through the phone.
“Mikey? What is it?”
Mikey could hear a bit of shuffling from the other end of the phone, and a quiet “Izana” spilling from a rather feminine voice, only for Izana to bark at the girl to shut up, effectively silencing her.
“Did I catch you at the wrong time?”
“No.” He grumbled. “Do you have any updates on Emma?”
“In a way, yes. I do.”
“In a way?”
“I have a feeling you’re not going to like my plan, regardless.”
Izana sighed from the other side of the line, probably sick and tired of the constant mind games Emma was playing with them and to be fair, even he was sick of it as well. Their little sister was easy to annoy but easier to please; so for her not to be as forgiving this time was frustrating. Mikey had played every game in the book he knew to please Emma and even Izana had put in far more effort than he cared to, but nothing worked.
Unless…
“It involves her, doesn’t it?”
Mikey could hear the irritation in his brother's voice, but then again, if they wanted peace to reign and for Shinichiro not to get directly involved in this issue in your favour, they were going to have to play it the smarter way.
“Not like we have a choice. Emma’s attached to that girl by the hip. You’ll just have to trust me on this one.”
Also, it doesn't hurt to have a little fun on the side.
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bitegore · 1 year ago
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you know what, actually this is worth a brag. I managed to eat for five days on a road trip for (calculated) ~$15 US total.
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thegoldencontracts · 8 months ago
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Hey! Can I suggest a tired & flustered Azul or Leona? Both are personal favorites
Hihi I gotchuu anon thank you for the requestt <3
also a bit off-topic but im indian-american (not native, like the asian country) and im the same shade as as leona which is why i hate hate hate when people talk about him blushing it'd be vy hard to see and i know its so weird and theyre good writers blah blah blah just a little pet peeve
Leona Kingscholar
You were currently being pulled into the arms of none other than the Prince of Afterglow, Leona Kingscholar. That wasn't particularly new - ever since you two started dating, Leona seemed to have a newfound love of cuddling you. It was pretty cute, actually. He really did act like a big cat sometimes.
Today, though, he seemed especially tired. He was always a bit tired - you knew why, and it wasn't a pretty story, but you had to digress - today, he seemed even more tired than usual.
It made sense. He had to pull an all-nighter yesterday catching up on paperwork for the Spelldrive club, something you still couldn't believe he'd actually done instead of just throwing the job onto Ruggie.
Still, he looked just about ready to collapse. You were getting pretty concerned.
"Wanna go to bed?" You asked, taking the opportunity to card your fingers through his hair. For once, he didn't try to hide the way he leaned into the touch. He pouted, though, and at that moment, you thought your heart was going to explode.
Leona, calm, always composed Leona was pouting at you. He looked almost like a kid right now.
You couldn't help the hearty laugh that escaped you. Leona huffed at you, angling his face in a way that made his dark circles much too prominent.
"Really, though," you said. "Get some sleep. I'll be here in the morning."
Leona mumbled something.
"What was that?"
"Come with me, herbivore," he said, more mumbled, and though it wasn't visible, you could tell he was blushing. The way he couldn't meet your eyes said it all.
He was surprisingly honest today.
He probably took your silence for teasing or the like, because he turned away with a huff.
"You can," he said. "I don't really care either way."
You smiled. It was genuine, not an ounce of teasing. You weren't going to do that, now when it was already so hard for him to be more vulnerable with you. It was overjoying just to know he was being honest.
"I'll take you up on that offer," you said, and that poorly hidden smile made every moment you'd have to spend listening to him snore worth it.
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul was working this evening. That was fine - he'd literally taken you out on a date so custom-tailored to you it made you wonder how exactly he knew you so well yesterday, you weren't going to complain about his performance as your beloved.
But he seemed tired. No, no, that was an understatement. He seemed like he was about to pass out any moment now. And yet, by some miracle, he was still working.
You had to perform well has his beloved, too. And that meant taking care of him when he was ill - or in this case, so tired he might as well have been.
"Azul?" you called out, and the thirty seconds it took him to process your voice and turn to look at you said it all. "Don't you think you should go to bed?"
After a few seconds, he shook his head blearily.
"'Can't," he mumbled, his words slurred. "Work."
You vaguely understood what he was trying to say. He couldn't sleep, he had work to do.
But it didn't seem like he was going to get much done in his current state other than pass out.
"Sleep, please," you said, and you were honestly shocked at how gentle your voice sounded. Being in love with Azul really did things to you, huh?
"But the money!" he whined, and you couldn't help but laugh. The money? That's what he cared about right now? How much money did he actually think he'd lose from sleeping? "'Want money."
This was the love of your life. This man.
Seeing you laugh, he huffed, cheeks bright red.
"Stop laughing," he said, pouting. "Ugh. 'S why you have no money."
Cold, Azul. Cold. Even in his current state, he had to remind you of your painfully broke reality.
"Then you'll have to help me make some, then." You said, trying to appeal to his love of rambling about finance. "Why don't you teach me? We can go to your room while we're at it, more privacy that way."
He nodded shakily, cheeks still a bit pink.
"I'm very-" he cut himself off, trying to pronounce somthing. "'Nevolent. Be-ne-vo-lent. I'll help you."
"Thank you so much," you said, and he followed you to his room.
You couldn't wait to see how embarrassed he'd get in the morning.
Bonus (Of sorts):
"I said what?"
"Yeah, and your face was so red! You kept slurring over your words, too. You couldn't even say 'benevolent'! Isn't that, like, your signature word?"
"Stop teasing me already!"
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idolomantises · 6 days ago
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I'm not sure if anyone who owns a patreon account feels the same way but one thing about patreon i find super weird is that it really, really wants its creators to see how much money they're making.
Which i know, sounds a bit odd, but i swear, they keep reformatting the website and mobile app so you can immediately see how much money you're making (or losing) and listing off every single person that unsubs.
I started to feel this way when a few weeks ago, they started straight up forcing the scrollbar to go a little downward so you can see how much money you're making every time you logged in. They have a notifications section that tells you when people delete their patron and even if you alter it to just see something like likes or comments, it still forces you to look at the users removing their patrons.
I'm saying this because I feel like im running myself ragged trying to upload weekly and every time i do set up a proper schedule for myself, something comes up and all of a sudden my patreon it at risk and becomes a greater priority (in my case, i have a 3 week long vacation in another country and i'm unsure if i'll be able to draw over there so ive been spending the past 3 weeks just sitting and drawing, but then i got sick which added to the stress)
It sucks a lot honestly. social media in general has been so obsessed with algorithms and pushing quality over quantity. i want to produce less comics and relax a bit, but despite people saying they're perfectly fine with waiting for new art, i tend to lose a lot of patrons and followers when i take a hiatus. im just a bit tired.
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corvidae-00 · 6 months ago
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Please some jealous (kind of toxic ) joost but with a happy ending 🙏🙏🙏🙏
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A/N: **fiddles fingers maliciously** this- I love this- He would so be sorta toxic and totally let his ego get ahead of him- this is gonna be fun to write! I hope you like it!!!!- GN!Reader x Joost :> CW: Toxic mannerisms, Marko is being used as the reason Joost gets worked up- (I love Marko I swear-), swearing, Angry Joost, tinny witty bitty bit of angst, Joost overthinking, smoking. (Let me know if I missed anything!! Word count: 1,747
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The after party for eurovisions semi final was packed with the singers and the energy in the room was for sure through the roof. Joost your good friend and his group invited you to come with, Joost wanting to share this moment with you more than anything- the excitement and hype of everyone putting their hearts out there and competing only to come together to talk about how much happened, having you there would make it even better, if that would be even possible.
You agreed to come along, not that you had much choice, the Dutchman having begged and nagged and spammed you until you agreed. Not that you didn't want to come! But you knew you would stand out like a sore thumb, probably hang out by a corner waiting for the delicious food to be available or not so crowded. Looking over your outfit and the time you smile pleased with how you look and wonder slightly if Joost would too. You have had the biggest crush on him since a few months after you got to know him, the feelings having appeared and clung onto you with every ounce of power possible, and honestly? You were fine with that. Smoothing out your clothes you look at the time and decided if you want to make it in time you absolutely had to leave.
Grabbing your bag you left your hotel you had booked for the event and quickly drove over to the Venue like Joost told you it would be, not leaving the Malmo Arena, I guess the hosts didn't want to spend more money renting another place out for the singers, at least it was well know and easy to find. Stepping out of your car you hurry inside showing the security your invite from Joost and entering the main lobby reading your friends text to find the way glaring at the device unsure of what Joost was even trying to explain
"Are you looking for someone?" A strong accented and shy voice came from behind you causing you to turn around and blink a few times at the man in a very midevil looking outfit and gentle eyes holding a cup of what you assumed was water, but could be vodka- maybe he was crazy like that "Sorry- Im Marko.." He quickly introduces himself before continuing "You look extremely lost- Im sorry for spooking you" He says with a genuine tone leading to a smile pulling its way onto your lips. After introducing yourself you look back down at your texts "Im actually here for the after party? my friend- one of the performers invited me and he is quite the character when it comes to instructions..." You rub the back of your neck trying to explain the situation to the stranger who was just as bashful as you "Oh! I was just heading back! I'm not very talkative so I got some air but I can take you to the area they have for us" He offers running his hand through his hair that is surprisingly still in good shape like he had maybe applied hairspray not too long ago "Oh would you??" You put away your phone letting Marko nod and wave his hand indicating you to follow
"So who is your- eh- friend?" Marko looks over at you trying to make small talk. "Oh! His names Joost, he is representing the Netherlands." You explain and Marko's face brightens a little "Oh yes! I enjoy his company!" Marko nods with a smile "Makes sense you two are friends! it seems he can befriend almost everyone" He explains putting a finger to his jaw in what seems to be thought "Do you like cats?" Marko questions as you two get closer to the room, music can be heard from inside. nothing too crazy or club like but maybe just background ambiance "Oh yeah! They are so cute! I don't have any of my own but I like visiting my friends kitty's" You smile watching Marko excitedly pull out his phone "Oh let me show you mine!" He says as you two enter the room Marko going through his camera roll leaning into you to get closer so you can see better
Joost Turns to look at the door, hearing the squeak of the hinges that whines under the weight of it being even cracked open and furrows his brows seeing you walk in with Marko...What was he doing out there? Realizing he must have left the party Joost grows even more confused as to why you two were together- wasn't his directions perfectly understandable? His large blue coat long since shedded, Joost rolls up the sleeves of his white button up and crosses his arms leaning on a table watching the two of you interact. 'he is very close to you' he thinks to himself, a sour taste in his mouth watching you laugh at something he had said 'why is he, the shyer one of the bunch all buddy buddy with you? I mean you always have been so approachable- but that's not fair.' Joost clicks his tongue growing more and more impatient 'what if you are leaving me for him? what if you even forget who invited you here?' Joost can feel his patience thinning and the party getting quieter the more he focuses in on you two. Marko with a big grin on his face and you laughing at a photo he had shown you.
"Hey there you are!" Joost doesn't even recall when he had took strides over- or when he was so close to you he could feel the warm body heat emitting off of you "Marko! How nice of you to find my nieuwsgierig hertje". he purrs looking down at the man who is staring up at him "Oh uh-" Marko looks over at you and then slowly puts his phone away and wraps both hands around his drink "Yeah no issues" Marko nods. "No issues." Joost repeats grinding his molars together forcing a grin. he had never any issues with the Croatian- until he was basically in your arms "Bye-" Marko waves at you with a small smile wanting to escape the current situation and looking at Joost before entering the party again "Joost- You spooked him away" You sigh wrapping your arm around your friend leaning into him and Joost can feel his mind calming "He was too close to you" Joost huffs taking his glasses out of his chest pocket putting them on and pushing them up his nose
"He was showing me his cats-" You raise a brow and Joost looks down at you "that close? I think he just wanted to be up on you" Joost rubs his arms and looks away with annoyance lacing his voice "Whats got you in a mood?" you tug on his shirt and Joost grumbles "Nothing." He reply's and you frown "Nothing my ass, what's wrong" You stand your ground not expecting the tall blonde to drag you out into the hall not caring about his grand exit.
"Nothing is wrong." He snaps once you both get out into the hall "You were all emojis and smiles before you saw me walk in with Marko! he was very sweet." you huff and Joost crosses his arms "Sweet huh? sounds like you have a crush." He fixes his glasses that are slipping off his nose "I just met him Joost, what's up with you?" you frown walking towards him "This is a new side of you" You observe and Joost shakes his head "Im always like this okay?" he throws his hands up and you shake your head
"What- is wrong." you demand and Joost glares "Maybe I don't want to see someone I think highly of with some other guy." He says sarcastically "Highly of?" You push and Joost shakes his head "What are you talking about." You reach for him and Joost grabs your wrist, not hard- you could actually pull away if you wanted too "Someone I have wanted as mine forever, walks in with a guy who clearly was hanging off your every word." Joost pushes through his teeth.
you both stand there still as a wall and Joost observes your face, his pupils scanning you over and avoiding eye contact " you- want me?" You repeat and Joost sighs "onoplettend" he mutters and you shake your head "You cant use your mother tongue to get out of this Joost-" you say and take a shaky breath "Do you like me? like- like like-" You mutter and Joost swallows hard "Ja." He responds and you can feel your face grow hot "Really?" you mutter and Joost drops your wrist "Really. and it really- shook me I guess seeing you come in with him.." Joost grumbles and you shake your head "Your directions were ass" You laugh a little upon noticing Joost's offended face "They were eligible-" He defends and you sigh "I- feel the same- I have for such a long time-" You admit with a small smile "I never thought it was possible-" You shrug and Joost blinks at you like you are speaking in a whole other language
"Not possible-??" he repeats in pure shock "You are the most funniest, smartest, good looking, talented, and so much more of a person that I have ever met." Joost says his eyes going soft and you cant help the silence that comes after your brain still playing catch up with the new information "I wanted to tell you properly- a way you would see me as the same ways I see you..." He rubs his forearms nervously tracing his scattered tattoos. "but I guess-" He smiles "This might do?" he chuckles and you rub your mouth slightly with your hand "It does more than might do- I'm so happy-" You mutter and close your eyes taking a deep breath before walking towards him and embracing him in a big bear hug "You don't know how happy I am that you feel the same way" Joost says exasperated "Next time just tell me you goof than getting all jealous" You tease and Joost shakes his head "I was NOT jealous lets get that straight right now" He states playfully "Okay Mr.Not jealous" You chuckle as Joost wraps his arms around you "how does dinner sound tomorrow night-" He smiles and you nod slightly into his chest "consider it a date." you hum
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Dutch translation: Curious deer: "nieuwsgierig hertje". Yes: Ja Oblivious: onoplettend A/N: heheheh I'm just cranking these out!!! I hope you liked it Anon and I hope it was what you were wanting! if not feel free to request again and I'm more than happy to keep writing!!! Thank you all for the love and the requests and everything! it makes my day seeing how many of you like my stuff....thank you! i love you all!!!!!
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slasherscream · 5 months ago
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Hello Bee! First I want to say that I really love your writing and your characterization of the characters. I've read so much of your stuff over and over again, it's so good! Thank you so much for writing it all!
Secondly, I wanted to make a request. Sorry if this sounds dumb, but could you please make a crazy ass husbands with an artisitic s/o? Like someone who may not necessarily create art, but is really passionate about like painting, and music, and just all the types of art? I saw you added Vincent Sinclair and thought of this 😄.
If not its fine, I still want you to know that I adore and enjoy your writing! Well wishes! 🩷🩷
Qimir (the acolyte) - Qimir likes the way you get carried away by music. The way you close your eyes when you walk into a cantina and musicians are playing. The little songs you hum to yourself when you’re piloting the ship, or fixing something. Music awakens something in your soul. You feel it deeply. Love songs and tragic laments alike light a fire in you. Every now and again he’ll have the two of you go to planets known for their music, their unique sounds, and singing styles. It’s always under a false pretense. The training or mission he sends you on are usually extra grueling before you’re given your “reward”. Otherwise, he feels like a slave to the whims of your joy. What wouldn’t he do to see you smile? To relish your little gasp the first time you hear a new instrument or song? He likes to reach out, using the connection you two share, and feel what you feel. He’s so glad he freed you from your shackles of repression. The way you indulge your passion is beautiful. 
Norman Bates - You’ve always loved flowers. The first thought you had about the motel was that it needed some nice flowers outside. You’ve traveled the country, visiting all sorts of gardens. It’s an odd hobby, but one you chased relentlessly. Until you met Norman, and settled into the hotel with him. But eventually you start to crave those gardens again, so you decide for the first time not to just admire gardens, but to cultivate one. There are a few false starts. Miserable failures. Mixed successes. But Norman is encouraging every step of the way, and eventually your little motel begins to shine. Ivy creeping up trellises you place against the house. Roses, peonies, lavender, poppies. All in ranges of colors and sizes. You repaint the motel when it begins to look shabby in comparison to the garden blooming around it. For the first time the motel starts to look… welcoming. Like a true home. People in town begin to stop by and spend the night just so they can have breakfast in the garden the next morning. People propose to each other at the Bates Motel. Get married there. Honeymoon. Have the celebrations for their baby’s christening among all your flowers and saplings. Norman doesn’t have a green thumb, but he brings you lemonade and kisses your cheek and thanks you earnestly for bringing color and life into his world. 
Hannibal Lecter - This is one of the ways you and Hannibal bond. You could talk about art for hours together. He’s a wonderful conversationalist, and your raw passion for the topic makes it so that you always have something new to say to one another. Date nights consist of going to art galleries for big and small artists. Something about being in one another’s presence sweetens the art itself. Hannibal often surprises you with trips to other countries just so you can go to their art museums and partake in new art scenes. Money is a small thing to Hannibal. The conversations you have about art? Those are priceless. 
Shane Walsh - He’s never been too interested in the arts. Not before the end of the world and certainly not after it. The only art that matters now is the art of survival. He tells you this often. Tells you to look to the future. Focus on surviving the day. On perfecting the skills he tries to teach you, day in and day out, so even if he’s gone, you’ll be okay. But you make him soft. For all that he bitches, he’s always giving in. Always looking to keep you alive, yes. But he wants you to be happy too. So he takes detours, and looks for libraries and bookstores that are beginning to cave in on themselves and smell of rotten pages and wood. He’s risked entire hoards of walkers to retrieve a book he knew was your favorite. He doesn’t mind when precious bag space is taken up by whatever paperbacks you can get your hands on. One day he might find a town that he likes enough and decide to go through the trouble of turning a library into a home for you. It will be well fortified, and he won’t like how many entry and exit points it might have. But he’d love to see you in your element, surrounded by what you love. 
V (from V for Vendetta) - So much art has been ruthlessly crushed beneath the boot of the fascist government you live under. Admiring the arts, any form of it, is like trying to hold sand in your hands. Your grip grows ever more desperate to hold onto anything. But there is no rhyme or reason to what is outlawed or taken away. Little bits of your soul are chipped away, with each new restriction, with each new burning or banning. Until V whisks you away to his hideout, and suddenly the world is made anew again. You are surrounded by art, art you didn’t even know existed. Things you couldn’t imagine in your wildest dreams. You inhale everything the gallery has to offer. You feel nearly gluttonous. In each room there is something new to see, hear, read. A feast for your senses anywhere you turn. You feel alive for the first time in years, maybe ever. V, in turn, feels his own form of gluttony. He cherishes every bit of delight he brings to your world. He feels like the worst kind of miser. The lowest of villains. What could be more precious than your smile? Or your laughter? Nothing. And by keeping you here, with him, he deprives the world of you and all you have to offer. But the world isn’t kind to precious things. So he keeps you like all the other treasures of this world. Hidden. Safe. Loved. 
Candyman - You collect book nook shelf inserts. Your home is covered in shelves, just to fit them. You have more book nooks than you do books separating them. Daniel is charmed to death by the collection. By the tender, diligent way you take care of them all. You spend hours of your week dusting. Fiddling. Making tiny adjustments. There must be something meditative about it, because you never complain. The joy he felt whenever he held a paintbrush is the same joy that flashes across your face when you open a new kit. He watches you assemble your precious, miniature worlds and ask you quiet questions, every now and again. He doesn’t want to break you from the beautiful trance you fall into, but he loves to peek into your mind. “What drew you to this scene, my love?” / “This one has an enchanting gloom to it. You have such an eye for art.” / “This one looks especially fragile, you might have to be more gentle, love.” He enjoys watching you lose yourself in your hobby. He loves the way you are unashamed in your joy. How you take pride in this work. You curl up into his side, after you’ve spent hours assembling one of your nooks, and the two of you will stare at it in all its completed glory. 
Robert Neville (I Am Legend) - At first he thought you were a hallucination. He’d been hearing things more often. Seeing things too. The human mind wasn’t built for isolation, as a scientist he was well aware of that. He tries to compensate as best he can. With his mannequins. With entertainment. By focusing on his research. He only has to stay sane long enough to fix the world he couldn’t save. That’s all. But then he sees you, while he’s hunting. The sun is still high in the sky, and you don’t move like a dark seeker. You’re cautious, slow. You also don’t move like a hallucination. You don’t really look like one either. He almost doesn’t approach you, afraid he’ll discover you were a mirage. He follows you all day long, until the sun is getting too low for comfort. Then Robert approaches you, fumbling through the obvious (it isn’t safe out here), barely remembering to introduce himself because people have names. Hoping desperately that you’ll trust a strange man instead of taking your chances with the dark. But the entire time he talks to you his eyes keep drifting to all the jewelry you’re wearing. Earrings. Bracelets. Necklaces. Rings. They glint in the light. Hypnotizing in their imperfections and intricacies. You move into his home, but you two drift around each other like ghosts. You’ve been alone so long, the both of you. You dreamed of meeting another living person. But faced with the reality of it, you’re overwhelmed. Until one night after dinner he finds you in the living room, making more of your jewelry. Slow and careful. He asks you about it, and you tell him it kept you sane while you were alone. Made you feel human. Then you look up at him, and he freezes under your gaze. (It’s been so long since he’s looked into someone’s eyes. It almost hurts. He can’t imagine ever looking away.) You ask him what kept him human. He’s not sure he still is. But he moves to sit beside you on the floor, hands you beads, and tells you he's been pretty fond of movies lately. 
Lestat De Lioncourt - You were a tailor in life, before he turned you. In death, in this eternity he’s given you, fabric is nearly your religion. With your vampiric eyes, you see even the tiniest flaw in stitching. All colors look more vibrant. The world looks more alive. Even though you can never see the way certain fabrics and colors catch the light of the sun, moonlight and starlight can be just as beautiful. You drag him to fashion shows in order to soak in the new styles, and cuts of clothing. You are as endeared by couture as you are the various counter cultures that arise throughout the decades you spend together. You spend exorbitant amounts of money on the finest bolts of cloth and thread. Sewing and tailoring and designing can be done entirely on your own. In fact, you’d probably be done quicker if you were just left to your work. But Lestat gets lonely when you lock yourself up in your work room for days on end. He likes to drape himself against your back, push himself into your side. Trail teasing fingers up your arm, to see if he can get your ever steady hands to falter (he cannot.) Looking over your shoulders and seeing what latest fashion has caught your eye is his hobby. You don’t mind the company of your muse. Sometimes you even sit him in front of you as you sew, and let the sound of him talking guide your needle and thread. He hardly wears anything you don’t make. Not only is your work superior, but every piece is made of love. 
Abe Sapien - You love everything about movies. How they’re made. Sound design. Light design. Set design. The difference between digital and film cameras. Abe was caught in your orbit the minute you were recruited. Talking to you, trying to form a connection, however, did not come as easy. Awkward nods as you passed one another in the hall. Stilted, dry conversation as you ate lunch at the same tables. It was enough to drive him mad. He didn’t know why he alone was unable to form any sort of acquaintanceship with you (especially when he wanted far more than that). This all changed during movie night. You were watching the voted on film play out on screen, entranced by every individual frame, it seemed. He’d never seen anyone smile so fetchingly, or blink so little. He bravely, and quietly, asked if you were enjoying the film. You began to eagerly whisper to him all sorts of details about how the film was made, the difference between the final product and script. Apparently, it was one of your favorites. With one conversation, the bridge between you two was crossed. Abe had been so caught up in enjoying literature, he hadn't explored much of the diverse realm of cinema. Happily, you appointed yourself the esteemed position as his guide. Somewhere between sharing your tastes, late night discussions, and dry eyes from sleepless nights, you leaned over to kiss him. He kissed you back, and you both forgot all about movies for a little while. 
Vincent Sinclair - You were an avid admirer of sculptures. You went to museums, and had to curl your hands into fists to resist the urge to reach out and touch the statues. There was something so beautiful about someone taking the time to carve human shapes out of stone and earth. To make marble resemble fabric as delicate as silk. It was breathtaking to you, really. Until you came across the House of Wax, you hadn’t really thought of wax as a means to make sculptures. Instantly, you are captivated. You forget that your car is being “repaired”, so closely do you look at every sculpture. You admire each one from several angles, for long periods of time, face giving away nothing. Vincent watches you, wanting to know what you’re thinking about his art so desperately he feels as if he’ll die. He interrupts Bo from the preparations to kill you and makes him ask you questions. Bo asks each one through gritted teeth, irritated to be playing a game of telephone, but even he is a little charmed by your thoughtful answers. When Vincent insists on not killing you Bo just shakes his head and washes his hands of the situation. You fall asleep in the town’s only motel, but when you wake up you’re in Vincent’s workshop. You’ll be able to admire his art for as long as you like now. 
Joel Miller - You tell him stories. You’re an avid collector of them. Wherever you go, you collect a story from someone. Sometimes they’re fantastical. Some myth or aesop fables that will be lost to the sands of time and the chaos of the apocalypse within just one more generation (if humanity makes it that long.) Other times they’re heartbreakingly real. The taste of an apple pie someone’s grandmother used to make for them. The memory of someone trying on their wedding dress for the first time. You have a way about you. It’s your eyes. The warmth in them. The understanding. Even after so many years of survival and fighting, you possess an empathy that should have gotten you killed by now. Instead you’re the keeper of people’s stories. You’ll be riding side by side on your horses, and Joel won’t sense any danger nearby, so he’ll say the magic words: You got a story for me today, L/N? And you always do. The sound of your voice keeps his head quiet. 
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A/N: i blushed bugs bunny curled ears style. thank you for the compliments, made my day! i think yours is the first crazy ass husbands gang request i’ve written! if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. Xoxoxo
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ilylovelyz · 1 year ago
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kenma fatherly headcannons
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i thought it would be interesting to think about what kenma would be like as a father 🤔
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look, im not even gonna be nice with it, i definitely dont see kenma being excited at the idea of having a kid 😭
definitely was like "are you being fr 😟?" when you told him
he obviously wasnt an asshole about it, but he couldn't help his feeling and indifference about the whole thing
the two of you had a long talk about it
the whole time he was more or less "are you sure about this"
hes not a horrible person/partner, he wasnt about to force you to do an abortion
he just wanted to make sure this was actually what you wanted to do and if you were actually serious about it
after you were stern about keeping the baby, he was fine with it
he was more worried about how he would be like as a father because he's very much scared of little kids and struggles to bond with just anyone
also a little peeved at the thought of his alone/free time being taken away
doesnt like the idea of his alone time with you having a literal permanent third wheeler but wont admit that to anyone but kuroo 🌚
during ur pregnancy, he was actually really okay with it
he would check up on you various times of the day, asking how you feel
yeah, he wasnt really excited for it, but that doesn't mean he wont try for it
would pause his games and go to wherever part of the house you were in, eyeing your baby bump with those wary cat eyes of his, all "..how are you feeling..?"
tbh i see you getting pregnant before marrying him because the two of you were kinda lazy with being careful 😅
he kinda facepalms because now hes like "why didnt i think of the possibility of pregnancy🤦🏽‍♀️"
while it doesn't speed up the whole process, he'll now begin taking the thought of marriage seriously
he'll bring up the idea of eloping, or a small wedding because he doesn't like the idea of a big and elaborate wedding ceremony/party
he didnt really care about gender, but he did care about baby names because he didnt want the baby to have a stupid name
now i see him being very curious tho
so he'll ask you a bunch of questions about how it feels to be pregnant, eyes wide when you tell him all the gruesome parts 😭
will also spend some time looking up more information about pregnancy and childbirth
now i do think he'd be aware about how he should change himself for the better
he grew up kinda isolated, and he 100% didnt want that for his kid, especially considering the fact that his child will most likely be an only child too
aw sleeping in kenma's arms while he plays video games cuz hormones made you sad
he'll like announce ur pregnancy to his followers/fans, it was so random he was like "yeah guys im having a kid 😪 kinda scary ngl" during one of his livestreams
really appreciates and is totally surprised when he's gifted money and baby supplies by his fans
maybe posts short little clips of you sleeping in an odd position or doing random things because he thinks its funny how you now do things differently because your bump prevents you from doing things in a certain way
i think it would interest him in the way your baby bump grows
he would be a little mortified at the way he would poke your bump's skin and watch his indent stay there long after he pulled his finger away
would be kinda "??? 🤔🤨" when he first feels the baby's kick/movements
he would "begrudgingly" walk to the store for you late at night if you were craving something
acts all annoyed but lets bffr kenma we know ur a softie 🤣
okay for the birth tho he's so mortified
definitely doesnt want to watch but obviously will be there for you because he knows better
the whole time he feels secondhand discomfort for you and feels your cries in his deep in his core cuz ur in pain and he doesn't like that 😕
this might sound weird, but i see him bringing his portable gaming system to the hospital so you can play with him and get ur mind off things
not saying his feeling towards the baby will change after the birth, but he'll definitely be like "oh wow 😳" when the baby is first born
have u ever seen that clip of steve irwin first looking at bindi when shes born and hes all amazed and awestruck by her?
its like that but its less noticeable and its more like "this is my child?"
a little scared to hold the baby at first because he's afraid to drop her
but once he does he'll look down at it and be like "ur not so bad afterall 😪"
DEFINITELY doesn't get any sleep during the first few months because he'll for some reason take late night feedings/crying upon himself
hes all "ur such a pain bro 😒" while rocking the baby back and forth to soothe it, all cuddly and gentle with it
tbh i cant decide whether it be a girl or boy so its up to reader to decide
omg hes mortified after the first belch spit hes gone afterwards
literally condemns the baby to hell
hates changing diapers but does it for the sake of the baby's comfort and health
when he's alone with the baby, he'd be like "ur kinda ugly 🤔" while playing around with it
tbh i see him getting random bouts of urges to play with the baby and speaking to it in a baby voice secretly
gets really embarrassed if hes caught and acts like it never happened
when ur not there to watch the baby while he's gaming he'll actually be okay with the baby sitting in his lap while he games
if he wins he'll be all "lets goooo 😝" all up in the babies face 😭 lifting it up into the air and just being such a gamer dad
also starts teaching the baby how to play games real early on, making them hold a controller or something and teaching them game logistics
the baby is like 5 months old and doesn't know about taxes but knows about dnd 🤣🤦🏽‍♀️
i see him like announcing the birth of his kid to his followers/fans a couple weeks after the birth
only shows what the baby looks like when its like 6 months old and crawling all in the background, he'll turn around and be like "wanna see my baby?", lift up the baby and put it's face all up close into the camera 😭
does 0.5 and only 0.5 photos on the thing 😅
does a couple more streams afterwards when he "games" with the baby and blame loosing on the poor thing 😅
aw i can see him and the baby having matching outfits when he goes out with it
he's not the best dad, but he'll try his hardest
on a sweet note, if kenma feels lonely when ur away, he'll allow the baby to sleep in the bed he shares with you as a "substitution" and cuddle with it
yk that tiktok audio that goes "leave me alone baby 😒" and then goes "ur my baby i love you ☹️☹️🥰😘" yeah that hes that
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onlyswan · 2 years ago
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summary: in which music waters a wilting flower on a chilly autumn night and jungkook is stuck by the glue onto you.
> idol!jungkook x reader / strangers to lovers / fluff, slight angst / wc: 4.4k
> warnings: mentions of oc’s toxic ex bf, slutshaming, and alcohol
> in which masterlist!
note: the in which couple’s first encounter reveal?! has arrived with a bam cameo at the end <3 recommend reading the ‘first times’ in the masterlist next if you haven’t yet :D as always reblogs and/or feedback are appreciated 🥰 and yes. i love beabadoobee.
“sir, will you help me-“ you panic, eyes pleading for help as you look between the door and the owner of the music shop. “i think it’s stuck.”
“oh! of course, of course. i apologize about that.” the middle-aged man, quick to your aid, ducks out of the counter. “i ought to get this thing changed soon. spent a fortune on it but it’s not doing what it’s supposed to do.”
you copy his chuckle, watching him push up the still half-closed door before shoving it open to the side.
“thank you!” you politely bow your head before stepping out.
“come back again next time! i’ll give you a discount!”
“really? a discount? then i have no choice but to come back!” you whine playfully, smiling at the promise of saving money in the future. you present him another bow. “have a good night! close the door now, it’s cold.”
the 90’s love song playing inside becomes muffled when the transparent glass completely shuts out the outside world once again. instead, the lead vocalist’s voice is replaced by a golden and dulcet humming by a stranger.
you scan for the source of the sound, and at once, you discover it when you whip your head to the right. scrolling through his phone, he’s sitting at the far corner of the old wooden bench— the same boy who was paying at the counter when you stumbled into the store. unbeknownst to yourself, your heart skips a beat. you were transported to a field of flowers when you brushed past him, and you met his big brown eyes briefly when he turned to leave.
burdened by the heavy and uneven weight you’re carrying on your shoulders, you decide to rest on the other side of the bench while you wait for a taxi to pass by. you spare a glance at the oversaturated band posters on the off-white wall behind it before sitting down as their audience.
the humming ceases when he feels your presence beside him.
you cautiously set down the padded guitar bag on the ground, securing it in between your thighs, anxious of getting so much as a scratch on the precious instrument. it’s a dear friend’s birthday tomorrow, and you only found the time and the money to purchase her gift today.
you check your wrist watch. 10:13pm. you fell asleep in the library while studying for a test, and because of that, you’re probably going to be home at around midnight. this place is pretty far and secluded, but apparently it’s known for its good and rare finds. you went here with your friend two months ago just to window shop and one of their bass guitars caught her eye. naturally, you couldn’t resist. her birthday gift has to be this. for some reason, it just feels easier to spend money on your loved ones than yourself.
will you even manage to send a birthday message before you pass out to sleep again? god, you hope so.
you feel your empty stomach grumbling angrily, and you’re not sure if it makes a sound or if it’s all just in your muddled head. yup, you missed dinner, too.
“i’m so hungry.” you cry out quietly, resting your forehead on the neck of the guitar.
fine, maybe you subconsciously said it a little louder than quiet. it was a shot in the dark, curious if the stranger beside you would have any sort of reaction. you hope for a glance at most. he has beautiful eyes, ones you almost feel envious of.
“me too.“ the sulky response slips out of his mouth with an exhausted sigh.
the sound of his voice makes you perk up in pleasant surprise, gazing at him with an amused, tight-lipped smile. on the other hand, he stiffens from the realization of what he just did. he stops manspreading, straightening himself up and awkwardly clearing his throat.
“sorry… it was a reflex.”
“it’s okay.” you reassure him with a quick laugh.
you tear your eyes away from him, watching the moths frantically flying under the street lamps. it’s silent for a moment, except for the shop owner’s on-going playlist and the occassional singing of the abundant crickets.
you face him again with a flair of innocence.
“do you want a granola bar?”
he lifts his head to look at you, the screen’s light reflecting on his tan skin, and that grants you the ability to see his breathtaking eyes. there might’ve been countless instances when they hated how small this bench is, most likely a tight fit for three people, but right now, you wouldn’t have it in any other way.
“it’s just that… i’m going to eat it and it feels rude to eat alone knowing you’re hungry, too.”
his teeth sinks in lower lip, contemplating for a few beats before nodding his head. “yeah, sure. i’d like one. thank you.”
you bring out the tupperware from your messenger bag, unfastening the sides open and separating the lid. as your own wordless way of telling him that they’re not poisoned, you grab one first, taking a small bite, before offering the container to him.
“here you go.”
you stifle a cackle when he pulls down the sleeves of his black hoodie as if he’s preparing to eat a whole course meal. he’s so fucking cute, gentle and dainty while picking up the granola bar along with the parchment paper underneath it. that leaves you with three left. you set down the tupperware between the two of you, loosely putting the lid on top.
“huh?” he exclaims with big round eyes, hand hovering over his mouth as he chews. “did you make this?”
the question makes you wince nervously. he didn’t like it? you could’ve sworn it's the best batch you’ve made so far. “uhm, if it tastes good, then i did. if not-”
“no, no. i like it.” he giggles, waving his hand to shoo your worries. “it’s not too sweet, and it’s soft? how did you make it chewy?!”
“oh-” you breathe out a sigh, clutching your chest in relief. “i just follow a recipe i found online! my neighbor gives me honey like every week so i found a use for it.”
“well, it’s really good. thank you.” he gives you a kind smile, scrunching his nose before resuming to eat the snack you spent your sunday night preparing.
and it’s quiet again. you look the other way to hide the proud smile playing on your lips, the fluttering of your unguarded heart raging and stubborn. maybe if you put food in your mouth, you’ll stop talking… not.
“i’m ___.”
he swallows before replying, distinctive dimples near his mouth making an appearance. “i’m jungkook.”
jungkook. it suits him so well. it’s perfect.
“do you play the guitar?“ jungkook asks curiously, motioning at the instrument you’re holding.
“oh, no- i just got this for my friend’s birthday. she’s in a band.” you share with a chuckle. “what about you? what do you need those giant speakers for?”
“ahh, they are big, aren’t they?” he scrunches his nose, glancing at the two boxes beside his feet. “i just figured buying new speakers would motivate me to work on music more.”
“are you a singer?” you gasp dramatically for effect. “or perhaps, a rapper?”
“i mean…” he smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. “i guess i can rap, too.”
“that’s cool. i think you have a pretty talking voice, too.”
“aigoo, thank you so much.” he jokingly bends down his torso for a bow, clasping his hands together with the small remaining piece of granola bar in between before taking it in between his teeth.
the harmony of your laughter bleeds through the chilly air, providing your hearts a wave of much needed warmth.
“thank you too. you gave me an idea what to gift my friends next time.”
“speakers?” his face lights up like of a kid unboxing presents beside the christmas tree. you’ve never met anyone who looks this passionate at the mention of the said device— this whole interaction is giving you the urge to dive deeper into the world of music beyond the sphere of being a casual listener. “they’ll love it. it’s the best gift for me personally.”
you tilt your head to the side. “you know a lot about them?”
“hmmm, i don’t know.” he purses his lips as he hums, eyes falling on the ground as he ponders. “they’re important for shows and work so i naturally learn a lot about them… i often look for reviews and new releases. it’s like a hobby?”
“really? then i’m sold. i need you.”
the carelessly casual words escape your mouth before you can think twice.
“need me?” he repeats your word in surprise, pointing at himself.
you disguise yourself with a nod and a coy smile, acting nonchalant as if you’re not screaming inside. you’ve always been this shameless when you have nothing to lose, but he’s just so pretty that you want to learn shit like what his favorite food is and whether your zodiac signs are compatible even though you don’t believe in them.
“help me choose the best speakers to buy, one year from now. i don’t know anything about music at all, so i always have a hard time with gifts.” you’re pouting sadly by the end, your words bearing the weight of truth, albeit you’re also using them as an excuse to glue yourself onto him.
in your mind, five seconds feels like it’s stretching into eternity. he breaks out into a shy grin, playing with the parchment paper left in his hand before folding it over and over again until it becomes the same size as the nail of his thumb. he stuffs it into the pocket of his washed denim jeans.
“okay then, i should help you. give me your number?”
your hands graze each other as you lay hold of his phone, clueless instruments of your and jungkook’s youthful impulses and anticipation.
“do you have other ___’s in your contacts? should i name myself ‘___ from mj’s music box’?” you inquire half-jokingly, raising your eyebrows at him.
”ey, come on. there’s no need for that.” he chortles, staring back at you with an unnamed emotion in his eyes, but you quickly revert your attention to the screen and you don’t notice.
“i don’t think you’ll remember me just by my name a year from now, though.” you mutter to yourself as you tap on the screen. after that, you tap the call button to save his number on your phone as well.
you’re already handing him back his phone when he finally constructs a reply-
“is that so? then make it difficult for me to forget.”
and the air gets robbed from your lungs. it makes you wonder how many hearts he has broke, being this handsome and charming, and if you’ll even drag this out and stick around long enough to find out.
“be careful of your words. i’m pretty competitive.” you playfully taunt him, softly tugging his wrist to put the device on his delicately wide palm. “don’t blame me when i end up being the only person you think about.”
he matches your energy, a cocky smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he shakes his head. “psh, why would i? that doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”
why are you thinking of ways to keep this flowing instead of retreating and coming up with an obvious excuse to leave? as always, you find yourself most liberated when you meet new people, even when you know they’ll only be a fleeting presence in your life, here to leave a stain or a scar. you wish a taxi never arrives. you wish to be left stranded here for the rest night so you can hear him talk about the first song he ever wrote and you can tell him about the stupid song your first boyfriend wrote for you.
but alas, the universe intervenes with your fantasies and the approaching blazing headlights almost blind your blurry eyes.
you wave your hand to hail the taxi, and you smile at jungkook one more time. “time for me to go.”
“oh, okay.”
the vehicle parks infront of the bench. he watches you hurriedly toss the granola bar you never finished into the transparent tupperware, a feeling akin to disappointment gnawing at his guts.
“wait- weren’t you waiting for a taxi, too?” you wonder out loud as you slide the resealed container inside your bag.
“i’m fine, i have a ride. you go take it- oh, oh- let me help you with that-” he stands up abruptly when he sees you struggling to stand up, lifting the guitar to relieve you of the barrier.
“thanks, jungkook.” you laugh airily, getting on your feet, closer to him than you’ve ever been. he’s taller than you originally thought, and it’s hard to ignore the fact that his flexing forearms are veiny… (you have a suspicion that he’s doing it on purpose. the guitar bag isn’t that heavy.) those, paired with that pretty baby face— he’s so manly and so adorable in a way you’ve never seen in anyone else. he’s a beautiful, refreshing sight to behold.
you’re holding your breath, as if that would freeze the hands of the clocks, halt the earth from spinning on its axis because it’s the only way for you to stay without blaming yourself. the love songs haven’t stopped playing, and a slow acoustic sets out to delude you that this is a scene from an indie romance film, a beginning of something beautiful, but it rarely is. it never is.
his bunny teeth sink into his bottom lip, tainting it a darker shade of pink, before his tongue sneaks out to lick it. “you can go inside.” he generously says, slightly raising his arms to gesture at your cherished gift he’s grasping securely.
you only nod in understanding, walking past him and proceeding to open the door to slide into the backseat. you assist him in putting the guitar inside the taxi and over your lap, and you force your brain to shut down before you can speak again and your friskiness gets you into trouble.
“get home safe, ___!” he brightly chirps, waving at you goodbye.
your cheeks are starting to hurt from all the giddy smiles, but you just can’t stop, not when he has this contagious and bubbly expression painted on his face that’s simply impossible not to adore.
“you too, jungkook.”
his meticulous eyes briefly wander around your figure, checking if you’re too close, and then he carefully slams the door shut. you sink into your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat before telling the taxi driver your address.
you don’t want to think too much, so you close your eyes, hoping to get more sleep to recharge your mental and social batteries. unsurprisingly, you grow restless not even five minutes after. the soothing piano ballads faintly playing in the radio aren’t much help either. an infuriated scream hangs on the tip of your tongue, and you bite it down into dust. instead, you dish out your phone from the pocket of your bag to save jungkook’s number… but then the venomous voice of your ex calling you degrading names ranging from ‘an ungrateful, attention-seeking bitch’ to ‘a slut’ after you broke up with him echo in your tumultuous head, and you begin feeling pathetically small and nauseous. for a split moment you find yourself contemplating whether you should just delete it or not. out of guilt or out of fear, maybe both, you’re not quite certain.
what ultimately pull you out from the dark abyss of relentless overthinking are the first notifications you ever receive with his name attached to them.
Jungkook:
hey this is JK
i just thought of this now ?!..
trade my music equipment expertise for your magical granola bar recipe? :)
you bury your face in your hands, silently crying out— “ah shit, this is so annoying. why does he have to be so cute? i need a drink.”
“i’m hungry.” the grumpy complaint spills from your tongue now that bam, your not-so little happy pill, is out from sight.
“me too.” jungkook juts out his bottom lip, lifting his head from your shoulder to look at you. “do you still have strawberry wafers in your bag?”
his question prompts you to hug it defensively. no, just no. “i’m saving them for emergencies-”
he puts his index finger infront of his lips, shushing you with a shake of his head. he tuts. “i know. this is an emergency, baby.”
cornered at the armrest of the couch, you have nowhere else to go. you unwillingly surrender to satisfying his craving, grimacing as he starts rummaging through your bag. this is exactly why you told him you should eat brunch before bringing in bam for his grooming, but jungkook insisted that it won’t take too long. sure, maybe the grooming session itself won’t… but the waiting in line part? that definitely took too long. making an appointment is technically futile when you’re visiting on a weekend.
“mhmmm, i love it.” he moans in satisfaction, devouring the slice of wafer in only two consecutive bites.
you glare at him when he offers you the plastic bag with a teasing smile, seizing it from his grip to snack on the treat while you continue to wait at the lounge area. you’re the only fur parents left here, the last clients before the staff goes on their hour-long lunch break. the sign on the door has been flipped to say ‘CLOSED’.
jungkook wraps one arm around you, pulling you closer by the shoulder and cupping your face with his warm hand to plant an apologetic kiss on your cheek. “i’ll cook you a hearty meal for dinner when we get home.”
you melt in his hold, leaning further against the backrest to release the tension from your body bred by hunger and impatience.
“really?” you feign nonchalance as you make the futile attempt of hiding the pleased smile curving on your lips. “i want chicken. the one you made before, with the creamy and spicy sauce.”
your mouth is practically watering as you describe the dish, the smell and taste of his cooking still vivid in your senses’ memory. it’s making the food you’re eating painfully insipid, but it’s better than nothing.
“and wine, too. no- actually, i’m craving tequi- argh, i’ll settle with wine.”
“okay! chicken and wine for dinner!” he agrees straight away, pressing a kiss on your temple before pinching one more stick of wafer between his fingers. he breaks it into two halves and gives one of them to you.
you accept it wordlessly, but a peculiar feeling is slithering its way into the tight confines of your heart, and you can’t withdraw your eyes from closely observing your gorgeous boyfriend. he brushes off the crumbs that fell on his white t-shirt and his lap after he finishes his share, still chewing as he tenderly takes the empty plastic from your hand. just as you predicted, he finds entertainment in folding it as small as possible.
“this is giving me déjà vu.”
“déjà vu?” he tilts up his head, doe eyes widening as you’ve captured his attention.
“uh-huh, you know when we first met…” you trail off, sending him a threatening look when the confused expression on his face stays unchanging. “you remember, right?”
his mouth hangs open before his eyebrows knit in irritation, posture straightening as he stammers with his defense. “what kind of question is that? you’re hurting my feelings- you were wearing a varsity jacket with the number 6 on it!”
“jungkook, i wore that like everyday for four months.”
his expression softens, pierced lip forming a pout. “do you even know that i-i… ah, i’ll show you instead!”
“show me what?”
he digs his hand in the pocket of his dark blue denim jeans, dishing out his wallet. you peer at him with curiosity as he rapidly unzips it to comb through his cards, pausing at his driver’s license and removing the white paper hiding behind it.
“no way-” you splutter, nearly choking on your own spit as your hunch grows enormously.
he unfolds it to reveal the faded blue ink that writes the most crucial and specific details of the first time the universe conspired to make your paths cross.
“look, i still have the receipt from the night! november 11…”
you notice him squinting at the faint characters, and you momentarily disconnect from the surge of mixed emotions to pull out his prescription glasses from the collar of his t-shirt. you affectionately wear it on him, weaving your fingers through his hair to brush away the loose strands from his bun blocking the lens.
“thanks baby- it’s november 11, 2017. at 9:55pm!”
jungkook originally kept this receipt for a month incase he had to return the speakers due to unforeseen defect or damage. but then you never stopped talking, and you became the only person he thinks of 24/7 just as your coquettish warning told. the thought of throwing it out never occured to him. instead, he preserved it in his wallet because he carries it with him everywhere he goes. he would even argue that it’s his most important property in it. he can have his credit cards cancelled then replaced, but this piece of paper is once in a lifetime.
mj’s music box closed down due to the pandemic. he hasn’t told you this, didn’t want to break your heart when he found out. he knows that you treasure the place as much as him, if not more.
meanwhile, the new-found knowledge has rendered you speechless, unblinking, buffering.
“what’s with that face? you’ve never seen this in my wallet?” he quizzes you in bewilderment, smiling humorously.
“of course i haven’t! you want me going through your wallet without permission?!” you whine, hugging his arm and hiding yourself behind his back to calm the intense pumping of your heart.
oh, your sweet, sweet jungkook— he never runs out of way to make you fall in love with him all over again.
“my love, you know i don’t care about things like that.” he chuckles, astonished by how you still highly value and respect his privacy and boundaries despite how long you’ve been together. it just occurs to him then, that at the very core of your relationship, this is probably why he never once regretted moving in with you. he says it all the time, but he just feels so goddamn lucky to have you in his life. he loves you. he loves everything about you. even the things he doesn’t like, he loves.
“aren’t you going to eat that?”
you’re overflowing with his love, you can’t stomach anything else.
“i won’t.”
“i’ll indulge myself then.” he cages your hand in his, raising it for the wafer to reach his lips. he bites it all the way down like a bunny eating a carrot, ending the journey with a chaste kiss on your knuckle. “you’re too quiet… are you crying?”
you shake your head profusely, tightening your embrace. “i love you so much, i can’t think. i just want to hug you.”
he smells a different type of sweet nowadays— more manly, more mature, binding you in an enrapturing spell, and with a suble hint of a baby scent that somehow makes him much more intoxicating. it’s overwhelming to think about— the amount of perfume bottles you’ve bought and consumed after asking one another if they smell too basic or too strong; the amount of times jungkook changed his wallet and took the receipt along with him because it only felt right.
“mkay, i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers, nosing at your hair.
and so, he stays stuck by the glue onto you as he gulps down a bottle of water, as he returns his wallet in his pocket with grunts of difficulty, as he deletes a promotional text on his phone sent by his service provider. he suspects that you’ve already fallen asleep. after all, you did spend the entire night dancing to the songs he sang along to. you wore the crocheted blanket you made as a cape and a dress, flowing with your graceful movements controlled by the lyrics and the beat and the melody and his compliments and his giggles.
he’s proven wrong when you slowly turn your head, cheek squished against his bicep. with heavy eyelids, you search for his hands, tangling them with your lonely ones.
“want to hear something silly about that day?”
“i’m all ears.” he beams eagerly, watching you twiddle with his long and slender fingers.
“do you know why i offered you my food?”
“because you couldn’t let a pretty boy like me succumb to starvation?”
“weeeell, there’s that…” you admit to his confident guess. “but aside from that, i wanted to see your nails closely.”
“my nails?”
you make a noise of confirmation as you trace his tattoos, a laugh seeping from the cracks of your relaxed demeanor. “to see if they were clean and trimmed or not.”
“so…” jungkook, the most hygienic man you’ve ever met, is digesting what you just confessed to him. “if they were dirty, you never would’ve told me your name?”
“hmm, yeah. because i always badgered my ex about it and you know how that relationship ended, so i thought enforcing those type of rules would help because i don’t want to deal with that shit again.” you cringe at younger you’s naivety and desperation, smiling shyly. “and it kind of… worked out so well? it sounds so funny to me now. i actually love myself for that.”
“fuck, baby,” he sighs.
he can’t imagine how a human being could ever dare to treat you with anything but gentleness. literally, can’t. it makes him sick to his stomach, makes the blood in his veins boil. he feels disturbed by the memories that still haunt you, and he feels angry because he is powerless and he can’t erase them no matter how hard he tries.
he caresses your face, planting doting kisses on your lips. the ghost of his affection lingers, like an invisible lipstick mark. “i wish i met you sooner.”
“what are you saying? i think we met at the perfect time!” you console his frustration, grinning when the epiphany lands on top of your bittersweet flashbacks. “out of the 365 days of the year, we met at 11/11. you’re my wish come tru- bam!”
the shocked, high-pitched squeal freefalls from your mouth when bam excitedly jumps on your laps out of nowhere, the weight of his upper half crushing your thighs underneath him. the dog smiles at you, panting.
“bam, i missed you but i was just about to tell your dad something romantic!”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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lustfulslxt · 10 months ago
Note
hi yk that one vid of matt where its like boston matt and hes scratching his arm with his phone in his hand... can you make a fic where matt and y/n fuck in the bedroom and then they walk out into the kitchen and they start cooking dinner or something and have y/n make the video
Wind Down - Matt Sturniolo
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warnings : nsfw
--
After a long week of seemingly never-ending work, I am finally able to make my way to my boyfriend's house. He's who I always run to when I have a rough day, so after the treacherous week I had, he's exactly what I need. Since we're both free this weekend, he invited me over for a little relaxing slumber party.
We both just finished school, and since summer started, we have been so busy with working and trying to stack money before moving forward with our careers. Saying that, the last couple of months have been exhausting, neither of us really having a well-deserved and much needed break. So, when he texted me and told me to come over, and that he's got snacks and movies for us, I was beyond ecstatic.
Within ten minutes of leaving my house, I'm pulling up to his. I park beside their minivan and grab my overnight bag, quickly making my way through the back, towards the backdoor. Before I can even open it, it's opened for me, revealing Matthew.
"Hi, princess." He smiles, grabbing my hand and pulling me into him for a kiss.
"Hey, baby." I smile, planting another sweet kiss on his lips.
"Ugh." He groans, pulling me into his arms, squeezing me. "I've missed you."
"I know." I whine, enjoying his warm embrace. "Everything's been so chaotic. I was thrilled when I got your text."
He grabs my bag and ushers me upstairs, following close behind me. "Of course. I knew we both have this weekend off and I just want to spend it with you."
Once we get to the kitchen, I interlock our hands and place my head on his shoulder. He's always been the best boyfriend, and I'm so thankful for him. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, with our hands still connected, and walks us to his bedroom. There, on the bed, are all of our favorite snacks and drinks.
I turn to him with a huge grin, "You're seriously the best. What would I do without you?"
"Simply cease to exist." He jokes, earning a playful shove from me.
We both giggle, me skipping to the bed while he sets my bag aside and gets his TV ready to play a movie. I gather all the snacks up and push them aside, making room for both of us to cuddle.
"Are you hungry?" He asks, joining me on the bed.
I shrug, "Eh, not really. But if you are, we can eat something real quick."
"No, I'm all good. I was just making sure." He replies, getting under the covers with me.
He lies on his back, me curled up at his side with one of my thighs wrapped around him. I place my head on his chest, and watch him flicker through Netflix, looking for a movie to watch. His scent fills my nostrils, making me feel all warm and giddy inside. He always smells so good. I slip my left hand under his shirt, resting it on his abdomen, rubbing soft circles just how he likes.
"God, I've missed you." He mutters, kissing the top of my head and pulling me closer to him.
He sets the remote down on his nightstand table and turns to face me. Closing his eyes, he pulls me flush against him and buries his head in the crook of my neck.
"No movie?" I question, closing my eyes and indulging in the warmth he's providing.
"Not unless you really want to watch something." He says, his eyes fluttering down at me. "I just wanna lay here with you."
I smile and place a kiss on his lips, burying my face in his chest. "That's completely fine by me."
He grins, snuggling impossibly closer to me, both of us finding solace in one another. His hand sneaks up my shirt and rubs my back up and down, the heat of his hand causing goosebumps to spread across my skin. I wrap my arms around his neck and hike my leg up higher, desperate to be as close as possible. Time like these, I just want to live in his skin.
"I love you, Matty." I whisper against his cheek, the side of my face now against his.
"I love you more, pretty girl." He responds, planting his lips on mine.
It was a soft, but meaningful, kiss. His lips always move so tenderly against mine, both of us savoring the feeling it never fails to bring. We pull away, cheeky smiles adorning both of our mouths, before going back in. Our lips blend perfectly, moving together in a delicate and loving manner. My hands tangle in his hair, massaging his scalp the way I know he loves.
He pulls away and looks me in the eyes, quickly putting our mouths back together more desperately than before. His hands continue to roam along my back, my shirt riding up the higher he goes. One of his hands reaches the back of my neck, deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue in my mouth. Our tongues glide over each other with ease before he's exploring my whole mouth with his. After a moment, he pulls away, tugging my bottom lip in the process. It didn't take long for the heat to grow in my core, suddenly needing him in another way rather than just cuddles.
"You're so perfect, baby." He groans against my lips, brushing the hair out of my face.
"Matt." I breathe in a slightly whiny voice.
His eyes stare into mine, and I know he can read it all over my face. I need him so bad. He gently flips me onto my back, hovering over me and putting our lips together again. His hands slip up my shirt once more, softly gripping my waist and caressing my curves. It only takes him a second to decide to remove my shirt altogether. I slightly lean forward, assisting him in removing the piece of clothing. The moment my shirt hits the floor, his is also on the way down.
I pull him back down to me, our lips meeting in a feverish and heated kiss. My hands run up his bare torso, feeling the definition of his body beneath my fingertips. He turns my head to the side a bit, his lips trailing down my cheek and to my neck. He flicks his tongue along the sensitive skin, latching his lips around it. Nibbling and sucking all over, leaving me needy and breathless. He continues working his mouth lower, now peppering open mouthed kissed along my shoulder and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake.
His hands never leave my body once, him straddling one of my legs with his knee pressed directly into my core. The small gesture is enough to have me clenching around nothing, excited to be filled. I can feel his dick growing, the bulge pressing against my inner thigh. I loop my fingers in the waistband of his pants, attempting to tug them down. He reluctantly pulls away from me, leaning back to remove the rest of his clothing. I do the same, both of us tossing them aside with our shirts.
The sight of his erect dick, his tip red and secreting the slightest dribble of precum had my mouth watering. His hands engulf my breasts, kneading them as his mouth takes turn sucking each nipple. The way his hands and mouth work against my skin, and the feeling of his dick brushing against my clit, has me softly moaning beneath him.
"Please, Matt." I moan out, slightly lifting my hips to grind against him.
"I know, baby, I know." He assures, pulling back.
He wraps his hand around his dick, stroking up and down, closing his eyes at the sensation. He leans forward, sliding his member in between my slick folds, coating it with my arousal. He aligns himself with my entrance, slowly pushing in just enough for his tip to be buried in me, before he's pulling back out.
"Don't tease." I whine, my hands clenching the sheets beneath us.
He slightly chuckles, pushing back in, this time all the way. I gasp, feeling the hard muscle deep inside me as he bottoms out. He stills, letting both of us adjust, his teeth biting on his bottom lip from the pleasure. After just a moment, he begins pumping in and out of me. I squeeze my eyes shut, my back arching off the bed. His strokes are slow, but hard, my boobs shaking with every movement.
He reaches forward, gripping plush skin on my chest, pinching the sensitive buds. Soft moans emit from my mouth left and right, my face turning to the side from the overwhelming pleasure. He grasps my jaw, turning my face back to him. He gazes down at me, studying my features, his thrusts gaining power, but keeping the slow pace.
"Always look so fucking pretty under me like this." He groans out, his hair dangling in front of his face.
"Mm, you fuck me so good, baby." I moan out, my nails digging into his bare back.
He smashes his lips onto mine, his hand still gripping my jaw as he fucks into me. He kisses me so deeply that it leaves me breathless. I'm on cloud nine. I can feel every vein that runs along his cock as he slowly pumps his member in and out of me, hitting my g-spot over and over again. The lewd sounds of my arousal and our skin slapping rings through the air, making this moment all the more delicious.
"Your pussy feels so good wrapped around me. So tight and wet." He moans, his thrusts becoming slightly sloppier. "Whose is it?"
I can't comprehend anything, my mind hazy with pleasure. Pornographic moans fall from my mouth, repeatedly. I can feel my orgasm sneaking up on me, causing me to clench around his dick.
"I asked you a question." He growls, his hand on my jaw turning me to look at him. "Whose pussy is this?"
"F-fuck." I whine out, "Yours. It's yours, Matt. All yours."
"Oh fuck-" He moans into my neck, his breath heavy. "You're goddamn right it is. All mine."
His thrusts speed up, him chasing our highs. My thighs clench around his waist and I can feel him throbbing inside of me. His tongue dances along the sweaty skin of my neck, teasing the sensitive bit. His panting and moaning in my ear, along with his deep strokes, push me over the edge. My legs begin to tremble, my head thrown back, nails digging into his back muscles. With a loud moan, I'm releasing onto his cock.
"Such a good girl, baby." He moans, his thrusts now completely abandoning their previous rhythm.
With just a few more pumps, his hips are sputtering and he's emptying his seed into me with a loud groan. He continues slowly fucking into me, riding both of our highs out, before he comes to a halt. He gently pulls out of me, collapsing on the bed beside me. Both of us have erratic breaths, our cheeks flushed a rosy, pink color. Our skin is slick with sweat, his hair stuck to his forehead, mine stuck to my neck.
"That was, wow." He pants.
"Matt." I breathe, causing him to look over at me. "I'm hungry now."
He bursts into laughter, making me join him. He leans over and places a sweet kiss on my cheek before getting up, grabbing my hand and helping me to stand.
"Let's get dressed. We can make something to eat, then shower and actually watch a movie this time." He suggests.
I nod in agreement, quickly dressing myself as he does the same. Combing my hair out with my fingers, I follow him out into the kitchen. He rounds the counter and opens the fridge, browsing for something to eat.
"Hey, do you wanna make a pizza?" He asks, looking back at me with raised eyebrows.
"Ooo, yes!" I cheese, "I'm just gonna go pee real quick. Get everything out and we can start when I get back."
He nods and does so as I make my way to the bathroom. I quickly go pee and wash my hands, heading back out to start out food. On the counter lays a baking sheet and a Totino's frozen pizza. I laugh upon seeing it.
"I figured we could just make this, since it's late and I know we're both tired. But if you don't want to, we can make a homemade one. It's up to you, princess."
I smile at him, "This is perfectly fine."
He smiles back and goes to preheat the oven. I take the frozen pizza out of the wrapper and place it on the baking sheet, then sit down on one of the bar stools while waiting for the oven to reach temperature. Matt comes and sits beside me, pulling his phone out to keep him occupied.
He looks so cute and so handsome. His hair falling over his face so delicately, his lips so pretty and pink. I pull my phone out, opening snapchat and start recording him. He doesn't have to do much of anything at all to make my heart flutter. He reaches back and scratches his back, suddenly catching my eye and seeing me record him. He flashes me a smile as I grin at him.
"You're so handsome, baby." I tell him, ending the video.
"Thank you, princess." He says, pecking my lips.
Once the oven preheats, we place the pizza in and set a timer for when it should be done. After it finishes, we run to his room with a plate and get in bed, eager to eat and watch a movie. This is exactly what I needed after the week I had. Matthew never fails to make me forget about everything else, instead, showing me a good time and making loving memories that I'll cherish forever.
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a/n : hii, this was kinda just short and sweet! i hope it was still enjoyable! and sooo sorry for the wait, still tryna get back into my grove :))) love uuu x
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