#i'm. oh my god this hurts bcs i know better i really do but these thoughts just persist n it hurts so much. it hurts so much
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ace-malarky · 2 days ago
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Snippet Sunday 22/12
Hello here is a snippet super early bc oh my god do I have things that need doing today
also I woke up with words in my head and chose violence <3
no it is not Halliel getting to use her sword <3
~~
Syn landed near Halliel's apartment and pulled their wings back in. For a moment, they almost looked like themself. They missed their antlers, but if they were to have any chance of surviving this…
They straightened out their clothes as best they could, crumbling off the dried on mud. A lot had fallen off during their flight, but… well. There was no hope for this outfit, really.
Their tinted glasses were gone, broken the first time they'd been arrested.
Syn flicked their tail under the fall of their coat, and perked their ears. Tightened their grip on Halliel's sword, tapping its scabbard against their leg.
No sounds out of the ordinary. It sounded like home. Just the quiet contentment of an evening after a long day of work. Music, laughter, conversations, several different shows going at once from different flats.
At least one person had a window open, practising their instrument. They sounded better than the last time Syn had heard them, more confident. Less prone to squeaking.
They took the fire escape down two floors and stopped outside the window there. Curtains still open, lights not on. The dim light from behind them let them see in, if just barely.
There was Trixie, curled up and asleep on Halliel's bed, tail over her nose.
Syn placed a hand against the glass, leaning their forehead against it. "Thanks for looking after her, Trix," she whispered. "I'll try to come back."
Trixie didn't stir.
Syn descended the last of the stairs and stepped out into the street, under the yellowing street lamps. How long would it take, they wondered. How far would they get?
They went back to work.
Three streets down, and [spoiler] fell into place beside them.
"I'm surprised you came back."
"Couldn't let you win, could I?" Syn shot her a wry look. "Not on my turf."
She laughed. "What is this, if not me winning?"
"That's cute," Syn said. "Real cute."
[Spoiler] frowned. "Where's Halliel?" She glanced at the sword in Syn's hand.
"Wouldn't you like to know."
"I - yes, that's why I asked."
Syn swivelled to face her. "What makes you think I'd tell you?"
"Because she's hurt. Because she needs help. Because why else would you make the mistake of coming back here?" She shrugged, scoffing. "You're predictable, Vale."
Syn hummed and kept walking. Two more streets. The buildings were older here. Archaic, really, with their wide columns and weather-softened corners and too-big windows. Syn had loved them regardless, but the city had changed too much around them and now they just looked… old and out of place.
Progress had come on apace with no care for the aesthetics of the place.
It would have been better, maybe, to come in through the park, but they'd wanted to check on Trixie just one last time.
They'd just have to make the best of their entrance with what they'd given themself.
There were guards on the steps, Verial and Sallen. Almost every window had a blaze of too-bright light behind it, spilling out across the road, almost reaching the trees in the park across the road.
[Spoiler] reached out to take Syn's arm. "Wait."
"No," Syn said sweetly, slipping out of reach. "I'm doing this on my terms."
[Spoiler] searched their face. "What's your play, Vale? Where's Halliel?"
"Wouldn't that be telling." Syn grinned, feral, sharp teeth and the mirrored skin gleaming in the brighter light coming from the building before them.
They walked up to the guards at the bottom of the steps. "Good evening," they called. "I believe you're looking for me?" They waved, their tail wagging in tandem.
[Spoiler] grabbed at their arm as the guards reacted to their presence. "I've got this, thank you," she growled.
"You haven't disarmed them," one of the guards said.
"He's right, you know," Syn said.
[Spoiler] huffed and reached for Halliel's sword.
"Ooh, no, not yet." Syn held it out of reach, dancing backwards. "Take me," they said, grinning, "to your leaders."
[Spoiler] narrowed her eyes, hand still outstretched.
"I promise I won't use it," Syn said. "You know me. Just need the comfort."
"This is highly irregular," said one of the guards. She'd come with Jaiel and Syn from Sallen, was one of the prince's guards. "We can't-"
"I have control of the situation," [Spoiler] snapped, and the guard subsided.
Syn winked at one of the Verial guards, tapping a couple of fingers against the scabbard.
He nodded and didn't argue as Syn walked up the steps to the door, [Spoiler] in their wake.
The next set opened the door without waiting to be asked, without challenging them, and Syn thanked them as they stepped inside.
"Just the usual place, is it?" they asked, looking around the empty foyer. All gilt and marble, a statue seated in the centre of the deer-formed architect.
Syn's antlers had been more impressive.
"This way," [Spoiler] said.
Syn let her lead just long enough to work out where they were going, and then strode past. They'd make her work for it, even though she thought she'd won.
Anyone else would've insisted that Syn hand over their sword, but [Spoiler] was getting cocky with the end in sight. More fool her, really, but then she thought she was winning here.
Syn stopped before the next set of guards. "I should be expected," they said. "Do you want me to announce myself, or…?" They waggled the hilt of Halliel's sword to point at the guards, as if choosing who to do their job.
They took in Syn's appearance - they grinned, feeling the stretch in their mirror-torn skin - and one knocked on the door.
"Yes?" Maj stepped out. "What is it?" Her eyes fell on Syn.
Syn watched the shock and dismay ripple across her face.
"… Vale," Maj said. "I see."
[Spoiler], only just catching up, took possessive hold of Syn's elbow. "I brought them in."
"Make sure Halliel gets this back," Syn said, passing Maj her sword.
Maj nodded and opened the door for them. "Please, come on in."
Syn didn't shake [Spoiler] free of them this time. They'd give her this much.
[Spoiler] cleared her throat. "I've caught Vale."
Neryd looked over Syn and scoffed.
Jaiel looked up from the couch. "Yes, but where is Lance? What have they done with them?"
"Ooh, you didn't tell him?" Syn asked. "Awkward." They bowed. "Your Majesty." When they straightened up, their dragon touched horns and scales were beading in. "Can't say it was an honour serving you." They swept it away before it reached their eyes, dropping back into Vale. Just enough to make a point, not enough to break the last of their guises.
Jaiel schooled his face into a sense of neutrality, but Syn had seen the shock and then the greed flit across him. "We'll take them back to Sallen to deal with," he said.
[Spoiler] really hadn't told him anything. Syn wondered if anyone knew about her.
"I think not," Rion replied. "They have endangered us just as much by their actions."
Syn shot him a glance but couldn't read anything. Did he know who they were? … Did it matter?
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maddyguru · 6 months ago
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tw: dark content, gang r*pe, AU where Gojo joins Geto to destroy the world after Riko so he massacred the village with him, loss of virginity, degradation, no remorse, wump reader bc i love suffering, reader getting bruises bc of them, MINORS DNI
it was a game of cat and mouse and they really enjoyed it. watching you run around the house in terror and crying as you go; it makes its all fun for them. the two strongest sorcerers do not worry about getting you or not because they know they will get you.
"i got you, kitty." gojo cruelly whispered into your ears, grinning as he did while staring at his best friend. from your behind, he hugged you closer to his chest.
even when you begged them to stop, but they completely ignored you- it dawned on you that they're raping you when your older brother suguru pushed your legs apart and his friend is holding your hands together above your head. you had kicked, screamed, plead, but all of those things did not work in your favour. you were held captive in your own family home. your panties were ripped downwards, dangling around your thighs, almost touching the floor afterwards. Through your cries, there you see, your older brother is taking off his school pants.
"you just couldn't wait, bro?" satoru cackled, and with no hesitation, a sharp pain was settling into your lower belly, shooting to your spine and your whole body. your lips turned into an o shape to scream, but nothing came out as the pain is almost blinding to you, but the two men can see how your hands were clenching and unclenching, your legs flailed together as your brother fucks into you deeper, and the way he smiled when he saw droplets of blood on his thick cock made you sobbed.
"Hard to believe my pretty girl is a virgin." he says, layer hissing once he stuff you full with his meat.
"Was, Suguru." satoru replied, which made you cry harder at the fact.
it went for hours, you were raped in your own family home. you saw your parents bodies near you and all you want was mama to come and save you and hold you- tell you its ok and everything will be fine but instead, you're assaulted by God knows why. You hardly talk to niichan and you don't know why he's hurting you. It made your heart sad when you thought about Suguru as your loving oniichan but no longer that person as his hips connecting with yours again and again.
"Stop.... oniichan.."
"no..."
"oniichan, it hurts..."
"my stomach hurts..."
Even after you plead, it did not stop him from passing you to Satoru. as soon as he came, satoru were eager to have you later on. He fucked you rougher than your brother did, going as far as bruising you on the arms and making sure you bleed from his teeth biting into your flesh ; you cried for your brother to help, and and you cried for your brother's friend to stop, but it remains the same- you were raped again and again.
"please just stop.... it hurts all over..." for the hundredth time, you plead.
A/N: I have left the writing world for quite a while since work is so hectic but I think it will be ok a little when i start my new office job. I've quit retail, and will start a new job soon so I'm excited about it! I will try harder to update my works and drop some short drabbles like this to keep the writing going on. Oh, and thank you for 1k followers ❤️ please continue to send me thirst asks longer the better ahha. more geto and gojo gang r*pe please 👀
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xxchumanixx · 3 months ago
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Hiii! If its not much trouble could I request a tim Bradford and reader fic where she's really shy and sensitive, but still diligent at work and his rookie? He usually had a soft spot for her bcs he has a crush on her but she messes up a case and gets yell at by him?? Calls her a crybaby and all?? But later he comforts her and confesses? Maybe she thinks he likes lucy up until that point?? Just a lot of angst filled with pining and fluff! Thanks sm and I love your workk💕
Headrush
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Tim Bradford x fem!reader
Warnings/Tags: language! (Shut up, Steve), fluff, hurt, angst
Word count: 2.523
Authors note: Oh my god, it's been so long, I'm so sorry! Thank you a lot for your request! I really liked the idea and I hope you'll like how I wrote it.
Lots of love! ❤️
Please, as always
Enjoy!
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"Shit, shit, shit!" you cursed under your breath, biting your lip as your fingers anxiously fiddled with the belt on your hips.
This was not how this case was supposed to go.
Not at all.
It was like a damn domino effect - one thing went down the hill, and so did the rest one after another.
A whole fucking shitshow.
That your suspect was lying dead on the street was just the cherry on top.
He had tried to run from you, not watching where he went. You tried to warn him, yelled that he should watch out, when a car hit him, and sent him flying over the street.
Tim stood beside you, eyes wide and mouth agape, not really believing what he saw. He wasn't sure whether to yell at you, comfort you, or just get back in the car.
He gritted his teeth, hands balling into fists. He usually was softer with you, than he was with other rookies he had.
You just didn't know that he harbored feelings for you that went far beyond being your TO.
A conflicting thing, really.
"You-" he started, cutting himself off, eyes flying over the scene. The dead man on the floor, the shocked civilians all around you.
The poor woman that drove the car that hit the man.
The ambulance covered the man with a sheet, calling the coroner.
That was what snapped him.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tim spoke up, rasing his voice as he looked down at you. "What the hell did you think?" You flinched at his tone, some of your usual shyness and sensitivity shining through.
Tim bit his cheek, so hard he almost drew blood.
He felt bad, sorry even.
To yell at you was one of the things he wanted the least, but he had no other choice if he wanted you to be successful.
At least, that's what he told himself.
"Sir, I-" you wanted to defend yourself, but he didn't let you. Once he was in that stage of rage, it was hard to see an escape through the fog.
"No, of course you did not!" he went on, the look on his face both terrifying and breaking you.
To ever think you'd stand a chance with the man yelling down at you seemed like the stupidest thing in the world suddenly.
"How could you let him get this far?" he continued to rage, seemingly not caring about the people around you that started to watch the commotion. "You should have stopped him!"
You swallowed, a bitter pill you'd forced upon yourself by letting the suspect get this far. That you'd fallen pretty badly along the way, most likely spraining your ankle, wasn't important anymore.
Who knew if he'd even seen it?
"I- I'm sorry." you breathed out, doing your best not to lose your face in front of him. The day had started bad, and it got worse the longer it went on. "I shouldn't have let him get this far."
Tim scoffed, hands fisting his belt as he looked around you. "I shouldn't have let you handle this on your own." he spoke, voice a mix of regret and spite. "I should have known better."
His words hit you like a punch to the gut.
You knew you were ready, and damn he knew it, too. Mistakes were normal, no matter how long you were doing the job already. But with your last week as a rookie rolling around, he pushed you more and more beyond your limits.
You felt tears burn in your eyes, the ugly tugging sensation in your jaw when you tried your very best to hold them back.
But Tim had already seen them.
His head tilted in disbelief, eyes widening before they narrowed.
Not a good sign.
"Are you gonna cry?" he asked, voice full of disbelief. "Are you kidding me? What are you? A fucking crybaby?"
Told you so.
You cleared your throat, cheeks burning in shame.
"No, no, of course not." you mumbled, trying to steady your voice. Tim tilted his head more, sending you a look that told you to repeat yourself. "No, I'm not crying." you repeated louder, looking up at him.
To say his behavior hurt was an understatement.
"Get in the car." he hissed, motioning at the shop. You nodded, doing as he told you without protesting.
It wouldn't have done you any good, anyway.
Moral of the story suddenly played in your head, and you couldn't help but think how right Ashe was, as you climbed into the passengers seat.
You had learned a lot about Tim the last year, yet he surprised you with how cold and harsh he was right now.
You should have never let your stupid crush get out of hand like this. Maybe to be hurt like this, to be talked down by him like that - maybe that was your moral of the story.
Like they said: Never fuck the company.
Not that you and Tim had gotten physically close somehow, but that didn't stop your mind from imagining sometimes.
You just were glad you experienced him like this before anything could have happened.
Not that you had much faith in that, anyway.
____
You let out a sigh, as you finally made your way out of the station.
It had been a long day, maybe the longest of your life. After driving back you had to wait before being questioned about the incident. It went on for nearly two hours, in which they decided you weren't responsible for the suspects death.
Yes, he had run from you, but it was his own decision, and you had tried to warn him.
You body-cam proofed it.
You hadn't seen Tim since you'd gotten out of the shop, silently thankful for it.
You didn't know if you'd been able to endure another round of his scolding today without actually breaking down.
Seeing Lucy though, only pressed on your sore nerves more. Yes, you liked her as a friend, but the thought that Tim seemed head over heels for her warred with that.
Only a fool wouldn't see.
The cold night air hit your skin, effectively cooling it down and clearing your head a little. You hoped to get home and fall in bed, only waking up again when you would have forgotten this day.
But someone seemed to have other plans.
"Y/N, wait!" he called out after you, and you only then noticed that his car was still in the almost empty parking lot.
You debated whether to ignore him, act like you didn't hear, but your consciousness said otherwise. You turned around as he stopped in front of you, silently cursing yourself for being such a good person.
He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, lips parted, like he didn't expect you to actually wait. "Listen," he then started, brows furrowing slightly as his gaze drifted away for a brief second. "I didn't mean to be so harsh on you back there."
You frowned, blinking a few times in confusion. Was he a-
"I'm sorry."
You didn't know what to say, now at a loss for words yourself. "I- i'ts okay." you then said after finding your voice, biting your cheek. "You lectured me, and it's not like it wasn't justified, sir."
He gritted his teeth, you could see even in the dim streetlight.
"No, that was too harsh." he gave back, shaking his head, frown deepened. "It wasn't your fault he was hit by the car. You tried to warn him and he didn't listen."
You pushed your bottom lip forward, not sure where his sudden change in mood came from. "Look, sir-" you started, but he cut you off. "Stop that." he demanded, the frown on his face bordering on angry now.
Your lips parted in confusion, not sure what you did wrong now.
"Stop calling me sir." he said. "We both know that's needless. It's not like- I mean, you're one week away from becoming a p2. We both know you'll make it with flying colors. Call me Tim."
He was selfish, he knew it.
But if it meant he'd hear his name from your mouth even once, he'd do anything. He didn't know yet if you'd choose to stay after graduation, and he'd have to take what he got.
He was in way too deep.
You swallowed before you nodded, gaze meeting the ground. Your teeth maltreated your cheek, not sure how to react.
"I've never- I've never seen a dead person like this before." you suddenly spoke, looking back up at him. "I didn't know where my head was, and you yelled at me. I was overwhelmed."
It just bubbled out of you. Maybe the dim lighting made you bolder.
"That's not me." you continued, shaking your head. "I- I'm tidily, I always make sure to give my best, it just-" Without you noticing, tears formed in the corners of your eyes, and you gasped for air.
Tim's own eyes widened, as he realized you were about to panic.
He closed the distance, wrapping his arms around you.
It was pure instinct, every nerve in him telling him to hug you, to comfort you.
To not make him see you cry.
He couldn't.
"It's okay." he spoke softly, as your fingers fisted the material of his jacket. "It wasn't your fault. I'm sorry for yelling at you."
You couldn't help the tears from flowing, not when he held you like this, doing his best to make you feel better.
"I should have known." you sobbed, pushing the shame for crying onto his jacket aside for now. "I wasn't ready."
He shooed you, one hand carding through your hair.
He knew if someone saw you two, this would have ended badly.
But he couldn't bring himself to care.
"You are ready." he gave back. "More than ready. I've seen you out there, you always have yourself under control. You're diligent, something that not every rookie is. You may be shy, and maybe a bit sensitive, but that's something good. You know how to talk to people, you understand them. And I know this wasn't your fault. You did your absolute best, and that's exactly what I told them back there."
You swallowed, cheeks heating up at his words.
You didn't expect him to be so open and soft with you.
"You- you really think that?" you asked, sniffing as the tears slowly subsided. He chuckled softly. "God, you have no clue." he mumbled, gaze flitting over the dark parking lot.
You frowned, not sure what he meant. But before you could have asked, he continued on his own.
"I'm not good at this emotional stuff." he said with a huff. "But you are. And I'm grateful for it, I really am, because I learned to get better at it, because of you. And I'm supposed to be the TO here, not you."
You chuckled, not having expected him to learn something from you whilst training you.
"You should talk to Lucy, then." you suggested, the thought jabbing at your heart. But if he wanted her, he'd be prepared for the emotional talk now, then.
Tim frowned, looking down at you with confusion. He gently pushed you away enough to look in your eyes.
"What do you mean?" he wanted to know, trying to make out what you were telling him. Your cheeks heated up, but you knew there was no turning back now.
Might as well reap what you've sown by digging into his personal life.
"I mean that you can tell her how you feel if you're better at emotional stuff now." you explained, doing your best to look encouraging. He scoffed a laugh, nose crinkling slightly. "Wait, you think I-" he started, but cut himself off with another laugh.
You frowned, suddenly feeling uncertain. "Yes, I mean-" you wanted to explain yourself, but he cut you off, hands on your arms as he leaned a bit down to look into your eyes. "No." he said firmly, a grin on his lips. "I'm not in love with Lucy."
The thought almost seemed absurd to him.
Why would he want Lucy when you were here, standing right in front of him?
Your frown deepened, thoughts running a million miles a minute. "Wait, you're not?" you asked, voice carrying a hint of disbelief and maybe relief. He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "No." he confirmed. "I'm not."
Silence hung between you like a heavy fog, only broken by a huff leaving your lips. "Well, I'm not as good at reading people as I thought I am." you mumbled, biting your cheek.
He shrugged as if to say I noticed. "If you were you would have known I don't want Lucy." he said, empathizing her name.
You cocked a brow, looking up at him again. "What do you mean?"
He sent you a smile that sent your heart into a frenzy, and for a moment, you thought you'd have a headrush. "I mean," he began, eyes wandering over your face. "That I can't wait for you to be a p2."
You felt dumb.
"Tim-" you started, but cut yourself off, as realization suddenly hit you like a freight train. "Wait, what?"
He chuckled, a sound that seared its way into your brain the first time you'd heard it. "Yes." he confirmed. "I don't want Lucy, because I already want you, Y/N."
It felt like the night sky had decided to let all it's lucky stars rain down on you at once.
A mix of emotions rushed through you, and you felt like you'd actually have a headrush.
"What- How?" you stammered, words escaping your brain. "I- I mean, why me? Why not her?"
Tim cocked a brow at your words. He knew you'd say something like that, a clear sign of how well he knew you by now. "Because you're you." he said. "Because you care. You're smart, funny, cute. You are a good cop, and I couldn't ask for more in a person than you already are. I don't want Lucy, because I'm not interested in her the way that I'm interested in you."
You inhaled shakily, his words like a balm to your wounded heart.
"And if you'd let me, I'd like to take you out once you're officially a p2." he added with hope shining in his bright eyes.
A smile spread your lips at his words. "I'd love to go out with you, Tim." you gave back, causing his own smile to grow.
His eyes fell to the smile on your lips, and suddenly he cared even less about the open space of the parking lot.
"Can I kiss you?" he wanted to know, eyes finding their way back to yours.
Your smile widened, and you nodded. "You can."
It was delicate the way he pressed his lips to yours, like petals of a flower. One hand snaked its way into your hair, cupping the back of your head to pull you closer. Your own hands gripped his jacket, anchoring you.
It was all you could have wished for.
And suddenly, the headrush wasn't so unpleasant anymore.
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@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm @dhundhchrih @augustvandyne @rookietrek @nachofriess @dtftheavengers @wonderland2425 @freyathehuntress @skywalker0809
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soft-beams · 10 days ago
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this is like my second request bc honestly obsessed with ur posts abt vi 😭🙏🏻 can I request modern college vi and reader but angsty 👀 a little something inspired by King Princess' song Talia in vi's pov. They broke up because of a massive fight and after a few weeks of vi and her unhealthy coping mechanisms, her friends desperately come to reader, and when reader visits vi one night vi thinks she's just hallucinating or having drunk daydreams of the reader so she starts being more vulnerable and breaks down in front of the reader, begging her to come back and how she's going to try and be more open to her and all.
The rest is up to you but I just really need angst and comfort at the moment, LOVE YOUR WRITING HEHEHE
hello hello! hopefully, this hits the spot for what you're looking for. 🙏🏾 and thank you so much! i'm glad you enjoy my writing! 🩷
She's hallucinating again.
That's what it has to be because there's no way you'd be standing her bedroom willingly. Not after everything she's done and said to you. Not after the hurt she's caused you.
Still, it's always so nice to see you, even if you're just a figment of her imagination.
"Oh Vi," you say sadly, lips turned downward and brows furrowed. "What have you done to yourself?"
That, she can't really answer. All she knows is that she's drunk beyond reason and hasn't been able to properly function for weeks. She's pretty sure she's failing her classes on account of missing every single one. It wouldn't be surprising if she ended up losing her sports scholarship.
It's a hard question to answer, though.
"I...I don't know," Vi slurs, her face half hidden by her pillow. "I think, um, I think I'm drunk and I'm...I'm really sad."
When you don't move or speak, Vi takes that as her signal to just talk and talk and talk.
"I mean, you were the best thing that ever happened to me," she starts softly. "You...you expected me for who I was. Tolerated far more than you should of. You...you loved me despite me being all fucked up."
Suddenly, her vision's growing blurry and something wet is trailing down her cheeks. It takes her a moment to notice that she's crying.
"But then I pushed you away. I pushed you away until you couldn't take it anymore and I—" Vi sucks in a deep breath, her throat choking up with sobs. "I didn't know what to do. I wanted you back more than anything, but I lost my chance."
Trembling, she attempts to push herself up into a seated position, but her hands slip against the sheets. She's sent tumbling towards the floor but she never meets the cold, harsh wood. Instead, she's greeted by the warmth of your embrace and god, her hallucinations feel real.
They even smell like you; fresh and clean.
Vi sinks into your embrace, hiding her face in the softness of your chest. Her arms go around your waist and hold on tight, afraid that this hallucination of you will vanish at any moment.
"Please come back," Vi murmurs desperately into your chest. "I promise to do better. I'll try and be the best me I can be for you. Just please come back..."
It may just be her brain playing tricks on her, but she swears she feels you hug her back, just as tight.
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moviecritc · 7 months ago
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june 18th ⋆ oscar piastri smau
pairing: oscar piastri x singer!reader
summary: everyone thinks that your new album is about break up and that you ended your relationship with your boyfriend
warnings: hate comments
a/n: i used midnights by taylor swift, it fits perfectly with the plot <3
english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes
masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd
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yourusername just posted!
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liked by lilymhe, yourbff and 627,921 others
yourusername life is emotionally abusive... 💎
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user1 IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING?
user2 TEASING A NEW ALBUM???
user3 everybody stay calm GEWUIEORLGNFDSKVBGFDSFG
user4 FINALLYYYYY, it's been almost two years we miss singer y/n
user5 wait why isn't oscar in the likes?? 👀
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yourusername just posted!
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liked by yourbff, sabrinacarpenter and 923,531 others
yourusername 'MIDNIGHTS' out June 18th 🌙🥀☁️
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user1 sabrina, billie, girl in red and now y/n WE ARE BEING FED
user2 LET'S GOOO
yourbff ok i'm so excited <33
user3 THE COVER, THE MAN AT THE BAACK
user4 it's giving break up album user1 it HAS to be a break up album user5 the tracklist feels very sad
user6 GUYS WHERE'S OSCAR.
user7 this can't be happening rn
user8 JUNE 18TH COME FASTTT
user9 guys, guys, june 18. 18 backwards is 81, OSCAR'S RACE NUMBER
user10 OH WE'RE GOING TO CRY WITH THIS ALBUM
user11 wait but we saw them together past month, i don't think she could wrote the album so fast
user12 idc IT'S GOING TO BE A BREAK UP ALBUMMM
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yourusername just posted!
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liked by yourbff, landonorris and 941,645 others
yourusername Some pics from the making off of 'midnights' 🌙
ps. when should i drop the first single?
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user1 wait she looks so happy
user2 she's healing from tha oscar guy
user3 DROP IT NOOOOWWW
user4 lando in the likes??
landonorris 😍
user5 ok this is taking a weird path now user6 he has never liked any of the posts on yn in all these years AND NOW HE'S COMMENTING user7 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE user8 this wasn't in my 2024 bingo card honestly
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oscarpiastri just posted a story!
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[caption: ready for the weekend]
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user1 tf you think you're to hurt y/n user2 thank god you broke up with y/n, she deserves way better than this user3 not this guy thinking he could pull y/n user4 i hope you don't win any race for what you did to y/n
yourusername just posted!
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yourusername Sometimes all that a girl needs is terrorizing herself for 3:20 minutes. Anti-Hero mv is now yours 🌙🌙🌙
Writing and directing this mv was an amazing experience, huge thanks to all the crew that make this possible.
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user1 SLAY AND SERVED CUNT
user2 MOTHER
user3 it's giving tyler durden and the narrator ngl
user4 THE "EVERYONE WILL BETRAY YOU" SCENE?? OSCAR YOU'RE DEAD
user5 AND THE ORANGE IS ALL OVER THA MV (that is oscar's color team) user6 WHO TF THIS MAN THINK HE IS?? dude hasn't even achieve anything and has the courage to hurt y/n user7 FRR, i love him when he was supportive with her, but now? he better hide himself user8 oscar we're coming from you
user9 wait oscar is back in the likes
user10 he can leave honestly, we don't want him here
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yourusername just posted!
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liked by oscarpiastri, chappelroan and 193,523 others
yourusername I know the album drops in one week, but... here's the Lavender Haze music video. Starring me and @oscarpiastri 💐
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user1 this is probably the most iconic thing anyone has ever done
user2 NOW THIS IS HOW YOU BEAT ALLEGATIONS
oscarpiastri my girl, i'm so proud of you ✨
user4 COUPLE GOALS. COUPLE GOALS COUPLE GOALS user5 oh shut up you were hating on him two days before user3 the fact that LANDO had to interfere bc of all the hate to oscar
user6 i'm so happy for them 💜
landonorris i wasn't aware of that part of you mr piastri
user7 so it's not a break up album
user8 it's literally a love letter 😩😩
lilymhe you guys are the cutest can't wait to the album to drop
yourusername you're so sweet lily 💖 user10 i need them to be friends user11 PLEASE
user9 ugh i'm so lonely
oscarpiastri just posted!
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oscarpiastri happy midnight release day for those who celebrate 💜
tagged yourusername
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yourusername my everything 💜
landonorris booo go get a room
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luveline · 1 year ago
Note
hi jade !! this is me resending my hotch request bc of ur recent post 🤍 i sent the one about hotch taking care of bau!reader who has a really bad stomachache, thanks so much, i think you’re amazing 💞💞💞
thank you for requesting angel! fem
You do this sad thing with your hands when you're in pain. Aaron wishes he didn't know your tell, that he'd never had reason to understand it, but he does. Your fingers, in particular your pinky, curl toward your palm frenetically, and he has an ample view of your closed off face in the chair opposite. He can pin the moment he knows you're in pain down to the minute twitch of your lip. 
He peeks at Morgan where he lays on the couch before leaning across the table to touch your arm. The jet offers little privacy, so Aaron tries to be delicate. 
“L/N? Are you alright?��� 
“Mm,” you hum, too high-pitched to have come out the way you meant it. 
“What's wrong?” 
“Nothing.” You say this, and yet you can't open your eyes, leaning less than subtly away from him as though your pain is catching.
Aaron keeps his head down as he stands so as not to attract attention. You've sat near the wall, leaving an empty seat for him to sit in. “Hey,” he says, touching the crook of your elbow, wanting to fix it, soothe the twitch from your hand, “you're in pain.” 
“It's nothing.” 
“Saying it won't necessarily make it true,” he says. 
“It felt worth trying.” 
He is genuinely perturbed to see you in pain like this without explanation. “You have to tell me what's wrong.” 
“Hotch, I…” you say, your voice wrought with embarrassment as you open your eyes, “it's just my stomach hurts. That's all.” 
“Sharp pains?” 
“Just hurts. Nothing dire.” 
“How do you know?” he asks. 
“Happens sometimes.” 
He puts his arm around you, careful not to jostle your back. You're tense as a rubber band about to snap. It's unlike you to be the more rigid of the two of you, less foreign for Hotch to have softened, especially when it's you. “How often?” he asks, wary of the tears brimming like silver at the corners of your eyes. 
“Just sometimes, I don't know.” You speak in a concise, panicked tenor. 
In this line of work, it could be anything. Not eating enough, not having time to stop for breath. You could be thirsty, sick, anxious, stressed into pain. It could be purely psychosomatic or you could be injured. He can't remember you taking any blows during the last few days away. It could be your period. You might not want to mention that. 
“Y/N,” he says, falling out of boss mode now he's sure it's not going to kill you, and into someone who cares for you, “what can I do?” 
You shudder a breath, slouched under his touch. “It's not that bad.” 
It's clearly a shocking amount of pain. Your shuddering worsens as he pulls you into his side. He's prepared to sit with you until you can give him better instructions, or until the pain passes, or, God forbid, things get worse. “I'm here,” he says, rubbing your arm gently. “Try to breathe.” 
He's wondering why you might think this amount of pain is normal, or acceptable. Wondering why he shouldn't just call for medical assistance here and now, but then you start to come around, your face shining with perspiration. “Oh,” you sigh, wiping your face with your sleeve, leaning into your hand, hiding. 
“Is it getting better?” he asks. 
“I think it's anxiety or something.” Your breath slips out in disjointed huffs. 
He can't guess what it is. Have you been to the doctor? he wants to ask, but perhaps in a moment, when you're steady in yourself again. “From the jet?” 
“No. Maybe.” You frown. 
“Jack doesn't understand that I'm on a plane.” 
You lift your gaze in confusion. Aaron moves onwards.
“He doesn't understand that this is a plane. I brought him by, once, to try to explain why I can't always answer the phone. It's thick metal, you know?” It was an easier explanation than having no signal in the sky. “But he didn't get that it was something that could move. I had to take him to the airport. We watched…” He slows as your eyes meet his completely. “We watched them take off for hours. Now he doesn't get so angry when I don't answer.” 
“Jack was angry?” you ask, half incredulous. 
“A bit.” He tries to string the story together before you can realise what it is he's doing, his arm curling around your from behind, fingers making the most tenuous of circles into the very side of your stomach. A barely there sort of comfort. “It's not like him. He reminds me of his mom when he's angry.” 
Your smile is a physical relief to see. “Does he have tantrums?” 
“Doesn't every kid?” 
You talk about Jack in dulcet tones while he tries to keep the pain at bay, his arm steadfast behind you, your faces closer than they have any platonic business being. He'll pester you into doctors appointments when you touch down, but for now, he just holds you and talks to you like everything is normal. 
You cover his hand with yours when the pain starts anew, talking through it, pain in the soft line of your bottom lip. 
“Am I hurting you?” he asks. You give him a weak smile. He feels awful, but it makes his heart race. So close, and so pretty, and so upset. “Is there anything I can do?” 
An embarrassing amount of weight lies in ‘anything’. You shake your head, whispering, “Nothing. This is enough.” 
Aaron pulls you in closer and wraps both of his arms around you, hiding you from the others, an aimless attempt to protect you from a pain he can't touch. Someone puts a cup of tea on the table for you, but otherwise you're left alone for the rest of the flight. 
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kenslilove · 11 months ago
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᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Who’s Little Sister?! Pt.2
preview: You called him your boyfriend? Why would you do that? Draken isn't sure he's cut out to be the boyfriend to Takemichi's precious little sister...
ft. Ken "Draken" Ryuuguji x fem!reader
wc. 9kish... help 🫠🤪😰😵‍💫🥴🤡
W. NFSW 18+ MINORS DNI, age gap (Draken is in his late 20’s and owns the bike shop, reader is in their early 20’s in university), fem reader (takemichi’s little sister), crybaby/bimbo reader, angsty in the middle, Draken is very insecure of his ability to be in a relationship, slight exhibitionism (Draken fucks you while on call), multiple cream pies, messy make-outs, oral (m!receiving), mating press, squirting, lots of praise, aftercare, lots of pet names, it gets soft and passionate at the end 🥹🥹
an. The long-awaited part 2 of “Who’s Little Sister.” I put my heart, soul, and pussy into this piece. I think it's my favourite thing I've ever written in all honesty, it very much encapsulates how I think Draken’s and I’s relationship would start. God, I love him so much. It’s also the first time I've written anything remotely angsty though, and I can’t tell if it's lame or not LMFAO. Please, let me know what you think. I'm so very happy to be reposting this piece on this blog to share with yall, it’s literally so important to me <33 and I’m so so happy this is the fic that is bringing back my writing spark! Part 3 will hopefully be even better than this 🙏🏼🤭 Constructive feedback, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. 
extra note: Listen to “Nothings gonna hurt you baby.” By Cigarettes After Sex during the last scene. It’s Kenny’s and I’s selfship song and help inspired me for the ending <33
tagging: @enchantedforest-network @eveningatthemoviesnetwork and @shoyosdoll bc you've been such a supporter of this fic hehe <33 i hope you love part 2 as much as part 1 <33
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“Draken-Kun, are you coming tonight?” 
There was silence on Draken’s end of the phone as all the other males on-call waited for a response. Mikey was the first one to say something back, annoyance clear in his tone as he spoke directly into the receiver, making his voice sound much louder than necessary. 
“Oi, Ken-Chin, get off the phone if you’re just gonna ignore us.” 
“Sorry–” Draken finally responded, his voice seeming just a bit more… strained than usual. Not enough for the boys to notice until he grunted softly, what seemed to be creaking or something muffled in the background of his audio call. 
“You good, dude?” Mitsuya piped up, his own voice a little muffled due to a sewing needle between his lips but nothing like Draken’s. 
“Oh yea, fuckin peachy–” Draken breathed in response, his huff coming out as a soft laugh when a bit of sweat started to roll down his temple. 
If he was being honest, he wasn’t really paying attention to the call, how could he, when you, Takemichi’s precious little sister was underneath him, sprawled out and trembled as his cock drilled into you at a steady pace. You were biting down on your bottom lip so hard, Draken swore that blood would free itself soon from the delicate flesh, your eyes screwed shut as your pretty chest bounced with each thrust of his hips. You were trying so hard for him to be quiet, just like he instructed as soon as he picked up the phone. The attempt was adorable, considering how vocal you usually were for him. 
But Draken was twisted, he knew that deep down, so he just couldn’t help himself when he angled his hips just right so his cock head would jab right into that gummy sweet spot within your walls. You yelped, pleasure shooting up your spine, only for the sound to be cut off by the smack of Draken’s free palm clamping over your mouth. 
“Who has a girl over~?” Baji piped up, suddenly very much interested in the conversation. Draken laughed shallowly into his receiver, his hand tightening up along your jaw as he continued to ram into the spot that made you see stars. You couldn’t even control your babbles when he did this, an endless stream of whimpers and sobs being muffled into his palm as you held onto his wrist for dear life. 
“Gotta go, Text me what time I needa be there–” Draken didn’t wait for a response from his friends. Instead, he hung up quickly, abandoning the device somewhere on the bed. When he released the hold on your mouth you whined at him, the tears finally spilling from your eyes. 
“K-Kenny, Kenny please– Please–!” 
“So fuckin loud pretty, all the damn time,” Draken says it with a grin, easily manhandling your thighs over his shoulders so he can fuck into you deeper. He presses a kiss to your ankle, right beside the anklet he bought you as your pussy flutters so desperately around his cock. 
“O-Oh! Please, Ken–!”
“Please what?” Draken grunts, his hips slapping up against yours ruthlessly now as his release comes dangerously close. He knew you weren’t far behind. Had learned your signs very early on. Your toes would curl, your eyes would get foggy, chest stuttering. Your pussy would milk him so tight and leave rings of arousal on his cock. 
And he loved every second of it. 
“Wanna cum, needa cum again–!” you pleaded with him, nails digging into the muscles of his flexing biceps. He nodded in agreement, his own voice becoming hoarse due to the sheer squeeze of your pussy. Although his pace started to get sloppy he still fucked into you, one hand slithering between your sweaty bodies in order to massage ruthlessly at your clit. 
“Go on then, cum, make a fuckin mess f’me gorgeous.” He breathes, licking his lips when you throw your head back with a cry. The mess you make on his cock is breathtaking, arousal squirting from your used hole and dousing his hand, wrist and abs. He swears under his breath at the borderline painful grip your pussy has on his cock when you finish, one final thrust allowing him to spill ropes of cum right up against your cervix. 
Draken’s trembling when he falls onto his elbows over you, his breath coming out a bit shaky as his cock still twitches within your walls in the aftermath of both of your highs. He starts pressing wet, opened-mouthed kisses along your neck and face to help you come too, a soft chuckle leaving his lips when you whine softly. 
“You okay baby?” His voice is a whisper, and as the energy slowly comes back to you he smooths his palm over your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye to pick up leftover tears. You nod, one of your trembly hands lazily dragging through his black locks of hair. “Mhm, m’good, Kenny. Help me sit up?” He does, one big palm on the back of your neck to help you to sit up against the headboard. 
He presses a smooch to your lips before easing himself out of you, both of you wincing softly from the loss of contact. It’s only when he pulls out completely and his softening cock falls against his thigh that he realises just how big of a mess the two of you made of yourself and the sheets. It makes him swell with pride, a grin slowly curling on his lips. 
You’ve come a long way, from the sweet girl who was just learning to cream on his cock to the messes you’ve made on his bed on the daily. 
“M’gunna get a cloth.” He says, handing you a glass of water and your phone as soon as he stands to keep you occupied. His muscles are still a bit tingly as he stands, arms stretching up and above his head as he heads towards the bathroom. 
“Nice butt!” You call out, making him snort softly as he stands before the bathroom mirror. He can’t help but admire the marks you’ve littered across his neck and chest, the cute little bruises reminding him of the shape of your puckered lips. He then examines the nail marks you’ve left along his forearms and shoulders, some of the red pathways breaking in the middle to show little droplets of blood. Lastly, he sighs dreamily at the sheen of your arousal that coats his pelvis, a ring of white still layered at his base. 
Man knew he was in heaven. 
When he came back to the bedroom after tidying himself a bit, as well as with a cloth in hand you were on the phone with someone, giggling into the receiver and looking up at Draken with a playful glint in your eye. 
“I’ll actually meet with you later, m’with my boyfriend right now~” Despite the way your giggling increased and you squealed to your friend about how you’ve mentioned him before with such excitement, Draken was anything but that. 
His chest tightened up, crease forming between his brow. Boyfriend? When did that become his title? 
“Kennnnnny~” You snapped him out of his thoughts, though his brows stayed furrowed. “Hurry! The mess is only getting bigger over here.”
One hand was planted on the mattress as he gently wiped the dampened towel over your pussy and thighs, your hand coming to cover his, making him pause in your tracks. “Shouldn’t scowl so much, handsome.” You murmur it gently, thumb gently smoothing between his brows in an attempt to fix the crinkles there. “You’ll get wrinkles~”
“You called me your boyfriend–” His voice was blunt, which took you by slight surprise. A little pout formed on your swollen lower lip as you subconsciously squeezed at his wrist. 
“Well, yea–”
“We haven’t talked about that.” He was still being blunt as ever, so much so it almost startled you, made you feel much smaller under him as he sat up on his hunched, throwing the soiled cloth into the laundry bin. 
“I-I know…” You simply muttered, chest started to feel tight as you watched just how serious his face had become. He was tugging his strands of black hair into a low bun when you sat up a bit more, fingers gently brushing over his chest. “But I just thought, thought that we were together…”
And it wasn’t wrong for you to think that way. Ever since that first night at Draken’s apartment the two of you had been secretly hanging out. You went out to restaurants, and the local arcade took his bike to the mountainside and watched the sunset. The two of you had bought little things for one another, like the gold anklet that sat pretty on your ankle and the hello kitty keychain that was currently attached to his bike keys. You even made sure to turn off your location so Takemichi couldn’t see just how often you were having sleepovers at Draken’s place. 
You two did the things that couples did together. You two did the things that you saw Takemichi and Hina do on the regular. Dare you even say, you did things with Draken that he and Emma used to do–
Plus, he was fucking you every chance he got. 
“Well, maybe you shoulda thought about talkin to me about it first before you go squealing that I’m your boyfriend.” His tone was harsher than he wanted it to be, a tone he usually used with his friends but never really with you. It had you suck in a soft breath, suddenly feeling very exposed curled up in nothing but his bedsheets. 
“You don’t have to be so mean–” 
“M’not being mean, I’m being realistic. It ain’t cute to just assume I’m your boyfriend when we haven’t talked about anything official.” He was off the bed now, tugging up his boxers. When you didn’t respond he sighed. “We hang out and fuck around, why do we need to be more than–” 
When he turned around again to look you in the eye his own voice caught in his throat. Your eyes had gotten wide, a glossy layer of tears hiding the usual beautiful shine your gaze held. Your lower lip was trembling softly, fingers clutching onto the covers so tightly he noticed how your knuckles turned white. 
“Hey–” 
“M’gunna go.” You interrupted, the crack in your tone only making his heart plummet harder in his chest. As you got to your feet, his blanket securely wrapped around you he grabbed both your shoulders. 
“Hey, don’t be like that (Y/N), you don’t even have a ride–” 
“Gunna call Michi.” You slipped out of his grasp by tucking yourself out from under his hands, bending to grab at your clothes scattered across the ground. 
“Like hell you are. We’re not telling him about us, remember what happened last time?” Draken could still hear the boy's ruthless comments after that first night, the crack of Baji’s fist against his jaw– 
“Don’t care, wanna go home.” Your muttering had gotten softer, ready to slip into the bathroom and shut the door right in his face. 
“Would you stop being such a brat?” Draken grabbed at your arm this time, tugging it back towards him. He himself hadn’t expected it to be so forceful, the little squeak you released and the falling of tears instantly making him let go of you. You both stared at each other a little shocked, Draken’s breath froze in his throat and his fingertips went a bit cold as you looked at him. 
Teary-eyed, shrunken in. Scared. Were you scared of him? 
Without a word, you finally went into the bathroom, and it was only then that Draken let out his frustrated breath, cheeks feeling hot as he clenched his fists up at his sides. Fuck, what the fuck was happening right now. He hated this nonsense, hated just how frustrated he felt, hated that look on your face, hated that he couldn’t even really understand what emotions were running through his head. 
Why was he mad anyway? Why was any of this really a big deal? 
He used his own phone to call you a cab, knowing you wouldn’t actually call Takemichi to pick you up. You had also gotten an ear full after getting caught, and as much as you trusted your brother, the last thing you needed right now was a lecture. You stayed locked in the bathroom until Draken gave the wood a gentle knock with his knuckles. 
“Cabs here…” He murmured. You didn’t look at him when you walked out, eyes bloodshot and downcast and when slipped past him fully clothed. He watched from the ledge of his bed, jaw set rigid as you so casually adjusted your bag over your shoulder, now a little overfilled with the stuff you had started to accumulate in his bathroom. Something slipped from your fingertips onto his kitchen counter before you made a beeline for the door, Draken only getting up when it closed firmly behind you. 
He approached slowly, that odd feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach seeming to grow, expanding into his chest as he noticed the subtle twinkle on the countertop. It was the anklet he bought you, dainty, gold, shiny, his initials hanging from the small tag. 
“Fuck—!“ His emotions boiled over into anger, face red when his fist connected with the drywall. A crack formed in the white fall, his knuckles taking on a deep purple almost instantly as he pulled his clenched fist back to his side. Instead, he let his forehead rest in the dent he just made, thoughts spiralling, making his heart pound in his chest. 
Had he really just done that? Made a big deal over nothing? Put his hands on you? And for what? 
You called him your boyfriend… was that really… so wrong? 
Was he really so set on “not being a sister fucker”, did he really care so much about what the boys thought, what people said about him, that he was willing to let you go? 
He wasn’t sure how long he stayed leaned up against the wall like that, thoughts running wildly through his mind, making it pound. Eventually, when his eyes started to get sore, narrowing down in an attempt to hold back unwanted angry tears he moved back to his room to plop himself down into bed. And he didn’t get up for the rest of the evening. 
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It had been a week. 
One whole week since you had left Draken’s apartment, and the two of you had not spoken since. Day three was when Draken caved and texted you, considering you had turned your location off for him so he couldn’t check up on you from time to time. 
“Are you okay? Please, we need to talk.” 
Radio silence. The message was left unread by you. He even sent another the day after, just a quick message but a little more firm than the last. 
“Don’t shut me out like this.” 
And still, nothing. It was killing Draken from the inside out. Each day that passed made him more anxious than the last. Were you okay? Did you hate him now? Were you crying to your brother? Draken couldn’t ask Takemichi about you, cause he didn’t even know you two were a thing in the first place. But every time he saw his black-haired friend his heart would stutter, tightening up in his chest. 
You laughed just like he did. Were you laughing right now? 
Draken had a bad habit of letting things like this consume him. Almost everything seemed to remind him of you or something the two of you had done and it was driving him a little crazy. And all because you had called him your boyfriend. 
All because Draken was afraid to commit to someone again despite his need to do so. All of his friends always thought he was so mature, and yet here he was, working through feelings that were staring him right in the face like some teenage boy. 
He kept his headphones in at the shop, his body hunched slightly on the stool he set up beside the bike he was currently repairing. The music was loud, drowning out not only the background noise but his thoughts that seem to repeat themselves over and over. His brows were slightly furrowed when he lifted from the busted engine only a moment, just enough to wipe away excess sweat that built up on his brow. 
That’s when he caught a glimpse of you. It made his heart pause mid-beat, breath hitching in his throat. He caught the last bits of you as you rounded the corner that led up the stairs, probably in search of Takemichi But that didn’t matter. 
Draken found himself scurrying from his seat, the stool skidding from under him as he was quick to follow suit. With long strides, he made it to the stairs and there you were, hand on the railing, one of those cute little skirts he loved hugging your waist just right. He called out to you, twice actually, quickly pulling his headphones from his ears when you actually turned to look at him. 
“Hey–” 
“I won’t be long.” You simply responded, voice sounding much too sad for Draken’s liking. He noticed how your hand tensed up on the railing when he approached and it made him frown. “I’m just grabbing something for Michi–”
“I wanna talk to you.” He took another step, a tentative one. He hated how your eyes were already getting a little glassy. “Let’s just talk, sweetheart.”
“Don’t wanna talk, Ken.” There was that familiar shake in your tone, the one he had become very aware of. You were just like your brother in so many ways.
His sweet little crybaby. 
“C’mere…” He was on the step right in front of you now, the levelling allowing him to lean down just a bit so his face could be close to yours. You took your time meeting his gaze, fingers now fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “It’s okay baby…” 
“You–” He could tell you were trying to gather your bearings, trying so desperately not to crumble and let the tears fall that were already sitting in your lashes. He was patient with you, scared that if he went in too strong you’d just run off from him again. You sucked in a shaky breath before continuing. “You really hurt me, Draken.” 
He could have hissed, chest getting a little tight. He hated the way that nickname sounded coming from you. 
“I know, I know little love and–” 
“Do you not wanna be my boyfriend? I thought you liked me.” 
“I do like you–”
“Then be my boyfriend.” It had been a bit more firm than he expected, your brows set and a little pout on your lips after you spoke it. Had things been a little different, he would have told you just how proud he was of you for standing your ground like that. 
“It’s not, it's just not that simple.” It was his turn to think his words over, lips catching between his teeth as those doubtful thoughts started returning to him. He was right, wasn’t he? It wasn’t that simple because– 
“Why not?” You were being blunt again, words bordering on angry as you sniffled. The first few tears finally fell and Draken wanted nothing more than to wipe them away. 
“Well to start, there’s your brother–” 
“I don’t care what Michi thinks!” You groaned it out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I wanna be with you, Ken–” 
“But–” He really hated that he couldn’t seem to find the right words. 
“What are you so afraid of?”  
That really made Draken stop, eyes widening just a bit as he looked back into your teary ones. Your chest was heaving a bit as the silence sat heavily between the two of you. Draken blinked, once, twice, brain reeling over this one simple question. 
Draken had been in many fights, grew up in a brothel, seen blood and gore and sex and a lot of things people shouldn’t see. He wasn’t scared any of those times. So, why now? Why was he so scared now as he looked into your eyes that were basically pleading with him for an answer. 
“I–” His words were shaky, and finally broke the intense gaze the two of you were sharing as he looked down. “I dunno.” 
There was another beat of silence before you continued up the staircase. Draken only looked up when he knew you were at the top, far enough away from him that he didn’t have to feel like your gaze was piercing him. He wished that he didn’t look though, wished that he hadn’t seen that sad smile on your lips. 
He never wanted to see that ever again, not on you. 
“I hope I’ll still be around when you figure it out.” 
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Drake wasn’t sure how much time had passed now since he had seen you. The first few days he refused to even think about that interaction on the stairs. That sad smile of yours easily pulls his heart apart and thinking back on it only made him more and more pissed at himself. 
So instead of thinking of you, he filled his time with work. He found himself opening and closing the shop, despite Inui trying to make him go back to their balanced schedule. He took on more projects, burying himself under the weight of grease and bolts instead of dealing with the weight that now sat in his chest.
You hadn’t come back to the shop yet either, he had a feeling you’d never come back. 
What got Draken out of work early one night was a call from Mitsuya. He called twice before Draken reluctantly picked up the phone, the annoyance clear in his tone as he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder. 
“Ya know m’working–” 
“Well, you sound just delighted to hear from me~” Mitsuya hummed, chuckling when he heard Draken’s grunt from the other end of the phone. Mitsuya was organising threads by colour when he spoke. “Come over tonight?” 
“I don’t feel like partying,” Draken answered back right away. What he meant though was that he didn’t wanna go in case Takemichi was there because then he would only remind him of– 
“It’s not gonna be a party doofus, it’ll just be us two.” Draken made a look of disgust, more so at the insult than anything else. “Just come.” 
“I have shit to do here–” He was trying his best to get out of this, but if anyone could see through Draken’s bullshit, it was Mitsuya. 
“You’ve locked yourself in that damn shop for the past week, I know you can make a little time to go out. Let Inui close tonight.”
“Nah, it’s my night.” It wasn’t.
“Bet you haven’t even showered.” 
“Oh fuck off–” Draken grunted, sniffing himself only because Mitsuya wasn’t there to give him the side-eye. He scowled softly to himself when the scent he picked up coming from his overalls was far from pleasant. “Will you quit nagging me if I come, mom?” 
“Absolutely buddy.” Mitsuya was chuckling softly, rolling in his chair to pull back up to his sewing table. “See you at 7, doofus.” 
Draken wasn’t given the opportunity to snap back with something clever, the phone went dead right away. With a huff Draken resultantly found himself putting his tools away, tucking his overused workbench in its proper corner so he could head off to Mistuya’s. 
But not without a shower first. 
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Draken’s hair was still damp when he headed for Mitsuya’s place. With how fast Draken sped his bike down the freeway, it only took about ten minutes tops. Draken lugged a case of beer with him up to the familiar walkway that belonged to Mitsuya’s townhouse. When he opened the door he still had his work glasses on, a lazy grin tugging on his features when he was met with the sight of Draken’s scowling face. 
“Would you look at that, he showered.”
Draken just rolled his eyes, nudging past Mitsuya and making himself at home. The two found themselves quickly situated on the couch, spread out on each end and open beers on coasters. Mitsuya had pulled out his old N64, so the two were currently in a round of Mario kart. The silence had been comfortable between the two, as it usually was until Mitsuay finally decided to speak up. 
“So, what's got you fucked up?” 
“What?” Draken said with a short laugh, his eyes staying glued to the tv screen. 
“You only get all solitary like this when something is really bothering you, so–” 
“Nothin’s up, m’good.” Draken simply grunted, which quickly turned into a scowl when Mitusya passed him for first place in the game. “Quit distracting me.” 
“Is it Takemichi’s little sister?”
Draken almost choked on his beer, finally looking away from the screen to look at Mitsuya who was still calm as ever. Only after he passed the finish line did he meet Draken’s gaze, one brow lifted up. 
“What about her?” 
“You were seeing her–” 
“I was not.” 
Now it was Mitsuya’s turn to laugh, a hearty one too that only made Draken’s brows furrow further. He pulled his glasses from his face, sighing out as he shook his head. 
“You think you’re so hard to read, but you’re not.” Mitsuya kept talking before Draken could bark at him. “I know you kept seeing her after that night.” 
“Okay, so?” Draken wasn’t sure why he was getting so defensive, maybe it was because it pissed him off that Mitsuya knew him better than he knew himself. 
“So, did you two break up?”
“We were never together.” Draken simply stated, going to start another round of Mario kart. But as soon as the words left his lips he hated the way they sounded, and now that they were out there, floating around his head it made him grip his controller a little tighter. 
“Oh, you weren’t?” Mitsuya said, that dumb smile of his making Draken shake his head, grit his teeth even. It was Mitsuya’s turn to scoff, tipping his beer back to polish it off. “You are such a fuckin doofus dude.” 
“Watch your mouth man–” 
“Why are ya doing this to yourself?” Draken sucked in a little breath. The silence hung in the air between them a little and Mitsuya rolled his eyes when he saw how Draken’s head tipped slightly to the side in confusion. He continued as he opened up another beer. “Why aren’t you letting yourself be happy? You can do commitment, you’ve done it before.” 
Draken felt a little frozen in place, eyes unfocused as he tried to process what Mitsuya had so obviously laid out for him. His heart started to pick up in his chest as he really thought it over, well at least tried to. “Yea, I did it before and look what happened.” 
Flashes of his relationship with Emma were impossible to ignore. How things went from wonderful to terrible so quickly. How the two of them became each other's world so fast for it all to crash and burn. The fighting, the lies, how he was so scared after he lost her but to also lose everyone he loved. His found family was all he had, and if they had decided to up and leave– 
“Sure, it was a bad breakup,” Mitsuya spoke with a simple shrug of his shoulders, looking at Draken’s pained face over the lip of his bottle. “But it didn’t stay bad, did it?” 
“Guess not…” Draken murmured. It didn’t. He didn’t lose his best friends, he didn’t even really lose Emma. After time apart and some growing up, the two had gone back to speaking terms. 
“So, let yourself be happy, dude.” 
“But she’s another little sister–” 
“Yea you have a type.” Mitsuya couldn’t help but laugh, especially after Draken sent his controller flying at him. Mitsuya thankfully caught it, holding a hand up in defence. “Relax! I’m joking… The boys are gonna bug you about it, but Draken, who the fuck cares.” 
Draken slowly nodded at that, allowing himself to really think it all over. He had never been the type to care so much about what others thought about him. He was letting himself get in his head for something that was already over and done with. Rubbing his hand over his forehead, he picked up another beer, shaking his head as he twisted the top off to chug some of it down. 
“I hate you, you know that?” He mumbled to Mitsuya, which only made him laugh out loud in response. He clinked his bottle up against Draken’s. 
“Love you too buddy. You should really make up with her.” Draken eyed Mitsuya over the lip of his beer. “I assume you said some dumb guy shit to her.” 
Draken pouted, mumbling something along the lines of “maybe I did” before he took another drink. Looking down the stem of the bottle Draken sighed softly, thinking of that sad smile on your face. It made him scoff at himself. “I just– I’m not sure I’ll be able to treat her right, as her boyfriend.” 
“Well, she’s stuck around this long, hasn’t she?” Mitsuya started to set up another game of Mario Kart for the two of them as Draken nodded slowly. “I’m sure if she didn’t think you’d treat her right, she woulda left.” 
Those couple words were left lingering in Draken’s head the rest of the evening. Mitsuya didn’t bring it up again, and Draken didn’t dare to. But as he started to pass out on his friend's couch, he had one too many beers to be driving himself home, he really thought over what Mitsuya had said. What he knew was right. 
I’m sure if she didn’t think you'd treat her right, she woulda left. 
Draken chuckled softly to himself, his palm coming up to slap him right on the forehead. The sting made him hiss to himself, but it's what he deserved. He’d never admit it out loud, but sometimes he wished his brain worked the way Mitsuya’s did. 
“I’m such an idiot.” He spoke, and it was Mitsuya sleepy agreeing with him on the couch beside him that had him laughing all over again. 
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He knew you’d be finishing classes up on campus right now, had picked you up and dropped you off many times before to know that you’d be coming out of the big college building any minute now. He parked right out front, his hands dug deep into his pockets as he watched the door. His eyes scanned over many faces, all different kinds, all of them filtering through, onyx gaze trying to lock onto– 
You. 
You were in the middle of giggling, those familiar wrinkles showing up around the corners of your eyes, your pretty manicured nails holding the books you had tighter to your chest. The image made him smile fondly, lips upturned just a little when the two of you finally made eye contact. 
He was more than grateful that you returned the small smile. The darkest parts of him had conceived him; you'd simply walk right by him, or even turn around in the opposite direction. But instead, you excused yourself from your friends, who all couldn’t help but side-eye the older, imitating dude leaning on a motorcycle, dragon tattoo on full display with his hair pulled up in a loose ponytail. As you approach he speaks, unable to keep his eyes off your own. 
“Hey.” 
“Hi, Ken.” Just the way you say his name makes his heart flutter a little. He moves to the side, opening up the small compartment on his bike that’ll allow you to put your books inside. 
“Come with me?” He asks, and the momentary silence makes him feel more nervous than he had in a long time. You could say no, he could have taken too long. You could have already slipped right out of his fingertips and it would be all his fault– 
“Okay.” You simply reply, and your smile doesn’t falter. It stays as you tuck your books away, as he places his helmet on your bread and helps you adjust the straps. You in front of him on the bike just as you had on that first night he picked you up. His hands easily swallowed yours on the handlebars, and before you knew it the two of you were speeding off towards his place. You knew that because the route had become too familiar after the many times he’d whisked you away after school. Your heart was beating fast in your chest like it normally did when you rode on Draken’s bike. It filled you with a type of adrenaline you hadn’t been able to find anywhere else. 
That and the fact that his hands seemed to be holding yours tighter than usual. 
After a couple of sharp turns and uphill roads, you two made it to Draken’s apartment. He gave you your space as you two headed to his room a couple of floors up, his heart seeming to be in his throat. He needed to relax, he knew exactly what he had to say to you, knew what he had to do, and yet as he fiddled with his keys a bit to find the right one that opened his apartment, the familiar scent of your perfume was making his brain a little foggy. 
It was the warmth of your fingers that shook him from whatever haze he was in, the tips of his ears feeling a bit hot as your fingers easily tugged the right key, helped him slip it into the lock. “It’s this one, Ken.” You say it as if your presence alone isn’t making him weak at the knees. 
He just nodded, allowing you in first. Shoes were slipped off and the two of you found yourself in his kitchen. You stood right in the middle, your arms tucked neatly behind your back, hands clasped. He missed the way you used to make yourself at home, grabbing something from his fridge or sprawling out on his couch. 
He wanted you to be that comfortable again. 
“I really needed to see you.” He started, his voice a little hesitant. He cleared his throat, fingers once again in his pockets. He looked everywhere but at you, despite the way he felt your gentle gaze burning into him. “I needed, I just–” He huffed. “I really fucked up–” 
There was your familiar warmth again, but instead, you were grabbing at one of his hands. So easily your fingers threaded into his, and suddenly the weight in his tummy didn’t feel all that heavy as he looked down at you, those wide pretty eyes he had missed so fucking much. “You did kinda fuck up–” You murmur, which makes him huff again, this time with a hint of laughter behind it. “I know I did. I know.”
He pulled you in a little closer, and he was so very grateful that you weren't resistant. In fact, you melted into his chest, your face finding that familiar comfortable spot against his peck, cheek pressed up against where you felt his heartbeat, which was currently pounding in his chest. He sucks in another breath, one hand coming to gently pet your head. “I’m sorry, I’m real sorry sweetheart…” He feels the way you start to tremble and it eats at him, brows furrowing up. “Please, don’t babygirl, m’tryna apologise to you–” 
“Don’t be dumb like that ever again Ken.” Your voice waves and he knows you’re about to cry, but he doesn't stop you from speaking, if anything, your shaky words only make him hold you tighter, a fond smile coming to his lips. “Don’t leave me like that again!” Your voice cracks and Ken has to chuckle under his breath, but there's no bite to his laughter, only fondness. “Next time, just talk to me. I-I know I’m younger and inexperienced b-but I know what I want and that's you–” 
That's when he finally stops you, one big palm cupping your cheek. He tilts your head up, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone before he's pressing a smooch to your lips. You both seem to relax against the embrace, and when he feels a salty tear hit his thumb he swipes it away, lips parting from your just enough so he can murmur against them. 
“I know, lil love. I know.” When your lower lip trembles a bit a smile breaks out on his lips. One that makes the corner of his lips twitch, little wrinkles showing up around his eyes. His hands cup your neck so gently, thumbs pressing up against the underside of your jaw. He murmurs again, this time his words slurred along with your breathy, soft whimper. “I want you too…” 
This time the kiss is desperate, needy. Your fingers turn white at the knuckles when you grip at his shirt, lips moulding against his own. Draken’s tongue is impatient, slithering into your open mouth and reexploring the warm cavern that is your mouth. He huffs when your chest presses flush to him, and with ease his big hands cup your thighs, scooping you into his embrace. Your legs cling to his waist without a thought, the giddy giggle bubbling from your lips and against his own making a bit of blush rise on his cheeks. 
Oh, how he missed that sweet, sweet sound. 
Draken tries not to trip over himself as he carries you off to his bedroom, his back hitting up against the door at the same time your teeth playfully tug at his bottom lip. He drops you down and the bounce of your body has both of you a little too excited, Draken’s shirt easily coming off as he tugs it up over his head. 
“Lemme show you how badly I want you, baby.” His voice has already gotten deeper, and as his big hand comes to cup the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss he’s a bit surprised when both your palms press against his chest, pushing him away an inch.
Surprised and panicked. Was he moving too fast, did you think he was just using you in your vulnerable moment? Had he really fucked up so soon again– 
His breath left him in a huff when his back hit the mattress, your body rolling over him. He blinked a few times as you straddled him, palms pressed against his chest and your face heated. He could tell that a flush was working its way up to your cheeks when you looked down at him, your body slowly scooting down from his waist to his hips. 
“No, let me s-show you.” Despite just how nervous you were, Draken could tell by the way you chewed on your lower lip, how your fingers trembled a little, undoing his belt and zipper, his cock still twitched with excitement underneath you an odd sense of pride flowing through him. 
You had come a long way, from the virgin he met all those months ago. He had just been the biggest idiot and here he was, pushing his hair from his face so he could watch how your pretty little hands handled his semi-hard cock with such care. How you looked at him first, batted your lashes when you leaned in and pressed the sweetest of kisses right to his tip. 
“Oh fuck—“ 
Yea, he was never letting you go again, ever. 
You took a deep breath through your nose before taking his tip between your lips, your eyes never leaving his dilated ones. He propped himself up on an elbow, free hand easing the hair away from your face. It was a sight that would be burned into his mind forever. Wide doe eyes, hand barely wrapped around his fat base, pretty lips suckling away at his tip. 
“You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me pretty girl.” Draken chuckles breathlessly, and the little glint in your eyes tells him you would have smiled had your lips not been preoccupied. He kept his hand gentle on the back of your head as you slowly took more of him, your tongue flattening out against his underside. His head tilted back in a groan at your steady pace, the warmth of your mouth making his skin prickle with pleasure. His fingers curled in your hair just a bit, enough to hold him back from jerking his hips into you, make you gag– 
He’d save it for another time. 
“Atta girl…” He murmured, chest rising and falling a little faster as you gained your rhythm. Your eyes peaked up at him again, before you got back into it, cheeks hollowing as you took as much of him into your mouth as possible. You reached about halfway, which Draken noticed made your brows furrow up. 
“S’okay, we’ve got plenty of time to make it fit, keep going lil love.” He encouraged, and you listened, head continuing to bob faster, sloppier. Draken could feel your drool dribbling down his shaft and onto his balls and it made him shiver. It didn’t help that your ass was up high, practically swaying like an excited little puppy just to be sucking him off. Swearing under his breath a moment as his balls suddenly felt all too tight, he pulled you off his cock, the pornographic pop of your lips making him grunt, you whine. The string of drool connecting your swollen lips to his cock was thick, and when it snapped onto your chin Draken could feel himself getting lightheaded. 
“W-Why did you–” He silenced your whining with another fierce kiss, and without hesitation you were manhandled back into his pillows, flat on your back. He has no problem working your soiled panties off your thighs, deciding to just tuck the extra material of your skirt into the waistband “Felt fucking awesome.” Your panties are tossed right over your shoulder, a cute yelp leaving you when he hauls both your thighs up, over his shoulders. “But I wanna cum in this pretty pussy.” 
From this position your pussy was split wide open for him, your clit poking out and throbbing from under the hood. He sighed, content, pausing his previous actions to lean in, pressing the softest of kisses right up against your clit. 
“My pretty pussy.” His soft touch is gone, replaced with his burning desire to claim you again. A few rubs of his cock against your slicken folds, along with your drool is enough to get his cock wet enough to slip in. His breathing hitches once his head makes it past the tight ring of your muscles, the squeeze vice-like just from the simple intrusion. 
“K-Ken–” 
“Shh, I know.” He coos, hunching over you. With your thighs on his shoulders, his shifting has you in a mating press, a position that all too knew and is making your head spin. Your tummy folds the closer he gets to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your clit while the other intertwines with the hand you had gripping the sheets close to your head. “S’always gonna be a lil tight, isn’t it babygirl.” 
You’re already moaning in a wonton fashion, eyes struggling to stay open as he rocks his cock head in and out, his thumb working at your nub. When your pussy starts fluttering for him he works in a few more inches, needy sounds spilling into each other mouth due to his lips staying inches away from your own. “Gonna take it all f’me? Be my good girl?”  
You nod, and when you look at him again your eyes have that familiar glassy sheen he’s grown to love. He kisses you right under the eye before with one good push his cock is all the way inside. The sound you make is downright sinful, something between a cry and a mewl and it has Draken’s cock twitching within the tightness of your cunt. It makes his vision go a little stary, the growl he releases vibrating through his chest. 
“Good fucking girl.” The slap of his hips into your ass resounds throughout the room, squelching soon coming from between your bodies. In this position his cock nuzzles your sweet spot, seeming to reach down deep, into parts of you that you didn’t even realise existed, and it quickly has you falling apart, babbles freely spilling from your lips, tears wetting your hot cheeks. Draken is quick to kiss them away, his fingers tightening around yours as he puffs hot pants along your face. 
“D-Deep~!” You manage to squeak, and Draken has to crack a grin, his hips suddenly stopping their brutal pace just so he can roll them instead. That had you gasping, drool spilling from your hung lips as you look up at him with a gaze that's already beyond fucked out. “S’real deep baby, s’good though yea?” 
You nod, fresh tears on your lashes. “Only the best for my baby.” He utters, hips switching back and forth between rutting and grinding. He’s convinced you’ve already cum on his cock, the amount of slick bubbling around his shaft and the tightness of your walls are his hints, but he keeps going, needing to fill you up after so long. Despite your cries, he brings his hand back to your clit, his rubs becoming sloppy. He only releases your hand to cup the back of your neck instead, keeping your foreheads pressed together. 
“Eyes on me, lil love.” You do manage to open your teary eyes, meeting his dilated pupils. “Good, good girl.” His body starts to twitch, broad shoulders rippling and his thighs starting to tremble as his own release quickly builds in his gut. “I– fuck. Baby, I love you, pretty–” 
And despite just how dumbed out you were moments before, those words seem to bring some clarity to your eyes. Your fingers tangle into his sweaty hair, gripping it at the roots for your sanity. The pleasant little laugh you let out and breathe against his lips makes his heart jump against his ribcage. 
“I love y-you Ken, love you so much, Kenny–” 
His climax hits him hard, the full-body chill he experiences making goosebumps rise along his spine as he fills you up. The feeling of his warm, thick cum is enough to have you coming undone right along with him, the sensation being yet another new one when liquid seems to gush past your little hole. It makes Draken’s balls tighten up instantly, the warm splash of your arousal onto his fingers that still gently coax pleasure out of your clit. And he can’t help but grin, a boyish grin that quickly turns into a grunt. “Fuck, fuckin squirtin on me, how cute.” 
He doesn’t pull out, he can’t. He needs to be close to you, keep your limp body tucked carefully underneath him. You’re too far in to even notice the mess, your whines and whimpers dwindling down into soft breaths as he turns to his side, keeping you in his chest. His cock slowly softens in your walls, and even then, Draken’s keeps you glued to him as you both come down, tremors and pants still coming over both of you. 
“Sweetheart.” He murmurs, face nuzzling up against your temple. When he gets a whine in return he holds you closer, careful to ease your face away from his chest so he can cover your tear-streaked face in kisses. “You’re okay, my baby…” 
Draken is usually more responsible than this. Then to let you two doze off without a proper clean-up. But feeling your soft heartbeat against his, your fingers still lost in his hair, your lips pressed right up into the crook of his neck and puffing soft air, he just couldn't bring himself to let go. He didn’t want to let go now, or ever. Keeping you here, wrapped in his embrace, he was certain that you’d be there tomorrow morning too, with that beautiful smile he had fallen stupidly, hopelessly, in love with. 
Fuck it. He was taking on the little sister fucker title with pride. 
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“Kenny, your hand is sweaty.” You murmur, trying to hold back your laughter when he shoots you a glare, pulling his hand away from you and dramatically rubbing it along his jeans. 
“Fine, just won’t hold your hand, brat” He grumbles, and that sets you over, wrapping your arms around him mid-walk to press small kisses along his collar bones. 
Draken hadn’t felt this nervous ever, in his entire life (this was a lie, he’s just dramatic as ever). The two of you were only steps away from your place, the same place you and Takemichi lived in together. Everyone was there, the entire found family, and you two were now official…
He was getting flashbacks of the group chat, his friend's ruthless behaviour, the way Takemichi hadn’t talked to him for one whole week, and the sweet satisfaction Baji got when he got one free punch to his jaw for Takemichi’s sake. 
“Maybe we can tell them next week, or over a call. Whattya think lil love,” Draken murmured, his face hiding in your hairline. Your sweet laughter sent that familiar warmth through his chest, and one good tug on his hand had him reluctantly walking back towards the house. “You’ll be fine.” You say with a smile, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “We’re gonna do it together.” 
When you hopped up onto the front step, Draken’s eyes trailed down to the sweet dangling sound that was the anklet looped around your ankle. The gold one, with his initials, right where it belonged. The sight had him calming a little, brows furrowed in the way they usually did when he became focused. “Right, together.” 
“Michi-nii!” You call out once the two of you enter the house, the sound of music and chatter already filling the front entrance. Draken holds your hand a little tighter as if he had been entering a place he’d never been before. 
“Living room!” Takemichi calls out, surrounded by founding members of toman, each huddled around the kotatsu table that was covered in snacks, beers, and cards. Oddly enough the chatter died down as Takemichi was dealing out for another round, a laugh leaving his lips. 
“You guys gonna take this round seriously–” It was Mikey’s elbow into his ribs that silenced him, a little puff escaping his lungs. He was about to complain when his eyes were brought to what everyone seemed to be staring at. 
And that was you, beaming smile and all, with your hand held tightly by Draken’s, who couldn't seem to make eye contact with anyone. 
“Hi Michi~ Hi everyone! What are ya–” 
“Finally.” Mitsuya was the first to mutter, leaning back further into his spot on the couch. “Chifuyu, you owe me 20 bucks, told you they’d come out today.” 
“No fair!” Chifuyu blurted out, grumbling when he reluctantly pulled bills from his pocket. Pah and Peh were the first to start laughing, clinking their beers together.” 
“Wait, you knew? How?” Mikey questioned Mitsuya, who triumphantly took the money from Chifuyu with a laugh of his own. Kazutora was even starting to crack up, hiding his smirk behind his beer. 
And despite all the commotion, Takemichi sat dumbfounded, eyes glued to yours and Draken’s intertwined hands. When he did finally speak, it only made the group that much rowdier. 
“Well, what the fuck is this–” 
“Time for another punch,” Baji said with that signature grin of his, basically hoping from his spot on the couch. 
“Wait wait!” You said, your pout only stirring the pot further. “No one is punching anyone! We’re–”
“We are dating,” Draken said, eyes a bit narrowed as he spoke. “We’re dating, Takemichi, I wanna date your sister, and I’m gonna.” 
There was another round of silence in the room, but it didn’t last, not when Pah mumbled under his breath. 
“Classic sister fucker–”
“Well, you could have at least asked first?!” Takemichi was dramatic as ever, tears swelling up in his eyes at the thought of his precious little sister being tarnished by the big, mean, scary man that was Draken. He let go of your hand then, being just as dramatic as Takemichi if not more so “I did ask, I just asked in front of everyone.” 
“But you’re already dating, have been a while no…?” Classic Mitsuya, stirring the pot and making everyone act up yet again. 
“Now why would you say that you ass–”
“C’mon Michi, I’ll punch him again for you, one good punch like last time–” Baji was punching at the air for emphasis. 
“Sister fucker behaviour,” Peh said with a shake of his head, only making Pah laugh harder. 
And amidst the bickering and nonsense that always seemed to break out between the boys, you took a seat next to Mikey, taking the Taiyaki he had to offer you with a little huff. He noticed the anklet, observant as ever as you rolled your eyes when Takemichi actually started crying, something about you losing your innocence. 
“He’ll treat you right.” You looked at Mikey, who spared you a small smile and a pat on the head. “Draken–”
“I know!” You responded happily, eyeing him as he held Baji back, the nerves he was feeling earlier long gone. You took a bite of the Taiyaki and giggled. 
“I can’t wait to be with him, forever!”
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oh-no-its-bird · 4 months ago
Text
Obkk modern au where where Kakashi and Obito are online friends who have never seen eachothers faces. It's a years long friendship (and mutual silent crush) where they've helped eachother through what was truly the darkest parts of eachothers lives.
But irl they also happen to know eachother from childhood due to having gone to the same schools and shared the same classes, and they fucking DESPISE the other. You can not stick them in a room without someone starting a fight.
When they interact irl, play into specifically the early dynamics of obkk, with kind of superficially happy/dumb Obito and a "follow the rules to the letter" grumpy overachiever Kakashi
But when they're online, play more into the older obkk dynamic.
Where Obito shows that he has a pretty big mean streak/humor and a serious talent for playing dumb; where he overlays his happier side irl for just social reasons.
While Kakashi shows he's actually super lazy and imperfect with most other factors of his life outside of work/school (and ofc downplays his actual work ethic when it comes to work/school, framing himself as doing bare minimum when he should really do more (bc he genuinley believes that)) and has a pretty wicked sense of humor himself, a love of over-romantic, fluffy porn, and a habit of using endless "cute" emotocons
Kk: Did my proposal today, it was so bad... I really slacked off this time on it. I was so nervous they'd tell me no (。﹏。")
Kk: I guess the other presentations must have been pretty bad too because they picked mine anyways? I feel so lucky (╥﹏╥)
Ob: it's ok even if you tried your best!! Im proud you were able to do even as much as you did.
Ob: I'm glad you got it, at least one of us won their proposal today. That jackass had a fucking 30 slide detailed slide with 6 DIFFERENT PIE CHARTS and a scheduled water break inbetween. Fucking kissass
Kk: nooo im sorry ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)
Ob: it's whatever. Just glad you got the thing :)
Ob: want me to kill your boss tho.
Kk: lol
Kk: I'll help hide the body ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
And then one day Obito does some sort of very mean prank on Kakashi. And it goes uhh. Badly.
I mean, badly for Kakashi. Obito thinks it went great!
That is till he gets home and finds his best friend for a decade, and crush for even past that decade, texting him about a very specific mean prank that got pulled on them.
Wait. No. Wait. WAIT. FUCK.
So like. Obito is a bit conflicted now. He doesn't know what to really do here??? Like. What if it ruins everything with his best friend??? But also hey best friend why the FUCK are you such a BITCH.
But also also, suddenly Obito is recontextualizing SO many of their interactions— from Kakashi suffering the devistating loss of his father when he was especially annoying, to explanations of why he reacted certain ways. And oh my god Obito is... also a kind of a bitch???
Obito has NO idea what to do and is just swinging so violently back and forth on what are really his only two options.
And sometimes he's like gleefully feeling vindictive bc after arguing with irl Kakashi, online Kakashi is ranting about "that same asshole again" at work, so Obito is like "I KNEW it was getting to u, haha you're NOT better than me after all!!!"
But then later he feels kinda bad about it bc like. Aw wait no he actually might have genuinley hurt the person he loves. And also he doesn't want to lose getting to see the real Kakashi, a mix of both of his masks, by fucking this up and choosing wrong.
Anyways Kakashi finally somehow figures it out on his own, they fight, they make up, they make out.
The end yay happy ending
There's an alternate universe where neither of them every found out about eachother and continued to be friends online and hate eachother to escalating degrees offline. But one day they start to slowly shift in dynamics. Irl they get closer and online they get so much angrier and more distant. Till we've swapped and now online they just have this GIANT fallout but offline they're actually in love now. And this continues till they're about to get married/no longer on speaking terms with eachother. And so on their wedding day they reach out again online but ONLY to hate on eachother like "oooo fuck you I'm so happy rn I just got MARRIED."
"Oh yeah you bitch??? So did I. And my husbands better than anything your ugly ass could ever pull"
"FUCK YOU MY HUSBANDS FUCKING AMAZING AND YOURS IS PROBABLY LOOKS AND ACTS LIKE SHIT"
"OH YEAH????"
"YEAH!!!"
"PROVE IT!"
And then they very sharply turn and take simultaneous photos of eachothers furious faces and then angrily, instinctivley press send.
And then they stop. And then they have a moment of dead silence.
And then they begin to have an actual, physical fist fight in front of the uncut wedding cake with ALL of their friends and families watching. And the photographers with their very ready cameras.
There was a lot of cake.
Yeah that was ah uhh. Interesting
The good news at least is now they have a photo of them fist fighting like they want to kill eachother while covered in wedding cake in a frame that says "happy marriage <3" on it, and they like to joke about it (to many, many peoples horror)
The end yay happy ending x2
If I were to write this fr I think I'd legally have to write both versions bc both are excellent
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tenwhiteandalusians · 7 days ago
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olivia rodrigo get him back! dot mp3. so you’re telling me tenax ARRESTED his boyfriend while he was emotionally at his lowest for a trick they used to pull together in order to convince him to come back to him. it’s not like you could’ve just asked or anything.
and then no one said anything about the fact that if i watched ONE MORE episode tenax pulls a "i'm not angry i'm just disappointed i'm hurt" about scorpus signing with the white faction.
#‘for the sake of our old friendship’ WHAT KINDS OF ELABORATE FOREPLAY DO YOU ENGAGE IN#god. the pained little wait wait the brief SECOND of real anger and frustration tenax has when scorpus doesn’t immediately come back to him#and he can’t understand why. the smirk and the needling that all is right in the world when scorpus says yes and tenax says my friend#the FUNDAMENTAL MISUNDERSTANDING GOING ON HERE I COULD CHEW THROUGH STRAIGHT OBSIDIAN!!!!!!#can we also talk abt the MOTG speech tenax gave UGH perf. wish i could steal it that’s the vision/voice for him. at all times a lil smirk#having a real What Did I Know w/this one as well bc the breakdown he has @the senators? what if u got everything u wanted &nothing changed.#what if they still thought of u as lesser even tho u’d been raised quite literally 2 their level but a ft below. always 2little. not enough#WHAT A BEAUTIFUL PLOT TWIST SPOILER IF YOU DON’T KNOW BUT OF COURSE TENAX THE BASTARD OF A PATRICIAN OH I COULD DO SO MUCH DAMAGE WITH THAT#ON HIS POOR PSYCHEEEEE question everything about your life like hunh. are you a true stray if u killed your father (the ultimate roman sin#of patricide what a Guilt Complex) do you. are you a man of the people if you have the divine blood of the patricians do you even know what#they want and is what YOU want real or is it just the blood inside of you calling like to like. because even at your basest instincts#you know that you are only for yourself you have always been. and given the chance if they’d treated you equal you’d be just like them.#that’s what you wanted. isn’t it. if you admit it. is it really what anyone would do though? a true member of the masses which you’re not?#ALSO I SEE THE LESBIANS!! I SEE YOU HUNTRESS OF DIANA WITH YOUR HORN!!! OKAY WE WILL ALSO GET THERE!! WITH MY KWAME NARRATIVE I’M BUILDING!#i love that y'all get to watch me break down in semi-real time MONTHS after this show has been out.#i'm tagging spoiler for things you have known for like. a long time now. it's not news to you but it sure is to me!!!!!!#bc i drafted the post i am reblogging in AUGUST. & i just watched episode i am talking about on 12/16. uh. wasn't kidding abt the watch rat#never too late to enjoy things never too slow to watch and certainly not to start!!!! take your sweet old time rome wasn't built in a day!!#we are SO insanely back for the non-existent divorce fic. sometimes you DO have to put your partner in jail and make them suffer#true to form for the myths eh. but when i tell you the absolute whirring inside my brain when tenax didn't let him out like oh?#does he have to beg? are you coming back later with the key? is this a fun little game you divorced freaks play and make everyone witness?#AND THEN!!!! if i could bottle the exact way he says to scorpus “you're drunk” oh my god. scorpus hurt because THIS IS WHAT THEY DO#he's playing his role perfectly again but he doesn't know about the extortion he doesn't know what's going on because tenax won't tell him#and the quiet way he fades out and backs off yelling give me my money when tenax grips him then turns away oh. OH. the uncertainty of maybe#he thought wrong. maybe this is finally the time they don't do this anymore and tenax has given up he's found calla he sees the way he look#at her and she is better he knows that. he'd love her too. over him. and it's NOT THATTTTTT tenax can't tell him because he wants to protec#him that's what they've always done if no one knows you're safe. not too close to be a lover not an enemy someone would kill to gain favor-#a friend. an old friend. and he's shaking him by the shoulders bc if he wasn't drunk tenax would tell him now he needs him he NEEDS him#but instead he can't so he grips his shoulders & tries to say i don't have it he can't say it here in front of everyone he wants so badly#for him to understand. and scorpus of course does not. i love not-writing vague angst i don't have to clear up <3 between friends.
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partycatty · 1 year ago
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are you open to doing hcs or a fic with johnny (mk11 or mk1 variant idc lmao) and reader with dacryphilia? i just know the sex is so good he can make a mf cry. 😭😭
stares at this anon with incredibly wide eyes
mk11 & mk1 johnny cage > dacryphilia
warnings: nsfw, overstim, johnny being a dickhead, author struggles to write dominant johnny bc they know deep down he's a pathetic little bitch boy
notes: oh my god i am . i am so excited. i love this so much i've been holding onto this for .... days . ilysm i'm writing for ALL THREE. lh ymg OGLDJRKSKWJD
masterlist <3
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dilf >
• by FAR the most dominant of the three. he's been around. he knows how to please a woman and he'll make that abundantly obvious when you're reaching your fifth orgasm of the night and he's still pumping into you.
• while he's the most dominant, he's a soft dom! he absolutely worships his love like a goddess and will put her pleasure before his. but he's gonna have his fun while he does!
• johnny loves to please you with every inch of his body. facesitting, fingerfucking, thigh riding, cockwarming, humping his boot, eating you out, he will get you all fucked out one way or another. there's a lot of ground to cover on his huge body, and he devotes every square inch to your pleasure.
• he'll mix his praises in with degrading when he's really into it. he blabbers on and on and he gets closer, the degrading taking over when he's about to cum.
• johnny, on really good days, won't be done fucking you until your mascara drips down your cheeks. he's mastered the art of lasting during sex, so he will be hard for quite some time. and even if he goes soft, he'll just stop and eat you out until the erection returns.
• "such a pretty girl... my needy whore... oh fuck, baby, you're killin' me here..." he loves to just say things into your skin. he'll bite your shoulder or bury his face in your folds and still have something to say. a ball gag wouldn't even stop this man from yappin'.
• "just one more, love, i know you can do it for me," he groans into your ear as he plows his fingers into you again. by now, they're nearly pruned from how much he's been fingerfucking you. his other hand is wrapped around your waist while you sit on his lap. when you reach the next orgasm, he gently caresses your thighs. "there we go, good girl. that wasn't so bad, now was it?"
• when you reach the point of mentally breaking, tears prick at your eyes and fall down your cheeks and you pathetically squirm in his grasp. you don't even know how many times you've came, but this man has somehow found a way to make it happen so many times all you can do is sob.
• in his younger days, that wouldn't even be close to implying a finish line for his torture. but now, with age, he knows better. he sees you cry and stops being as rough. he knows it'd just stop feeling good and start hurting or go entirely numb. johnny would still squeeze in one more orgasm though, just for good measure. just to prove that he can.
• aftercare KING. you just lay there like a little soggy sock and this handsome devil will wipe you clean and pepper kisses across your body, telling you how well you did for him.
• "sorry to make you cry, sugar, i just couldn't help it. you looked too damn pretty," he'll mumble into your neck. "every time you cum for me, i just wanna watch it again and again..."
• your coworkers keep asking if you're okay the following morning from how puffy your eyes are and how sore you claim to be from... training.
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younger >
let me just say first that it is so unbelievably funny that he is looking at himself on imdb in that gif
• he's so mean. SO MEAN!
• degrader to the max. bro is the definition of a cruel and unusual punishment.
• and yeah the jacket stays on during sex.
• "you like being a filthy whore for a movie star? you gonna take it like a good slut? yeah you are," he'll yap and yap while he downright uses your body. he doesn't rub your clit to make you feel good, he rubs it so you spasm around his dick more. he wants to feel how much you crave his cock, his touch. it's all about him, baby!
• more than anything, he just loves to fuck you in every position imaginable. he wants to be buried in whoever fell victim to his charms, dammit!
• mirrors. send tweet.
• no fr, this guy loves having mirrors in every place he could picture himself having sex in. he'll pull your hair and force you to look at your reflection.
• "no, no, no, baby, don't look at you. look at me. look who's fucking you nice 'n good," he wraps his hand on the front of your neck to make you watch him rail you.
• at this point, his dick is painted with your orgasmic fluids and he's still not done. you're so fucked out you can't even think straight. your body has gone entirely limb and you're just in a hazy bliss. you've finished so many times your entire body is trembling and jerking around, and your cute moans and whines have just turned into gasps but the skin on skin slapping is incessant.
• "you gonna cry?" he asks menacingly, holding your face with one hand. "yeah you are. good fuckin' dick, isn't it?"
• you lazily nod as the gasps turn into sobs. you're just so full of pleasure and pain that you don't know what emotion to feel anymore.
• "pathetic girl, can't handle this much boom?" he chuckles breathlessly, approaching his own high. "just stay like that, baby, i'm close. tell me how bad you need me."
• that doesn't even sound possible in your current state. he may be talking, but all you hear is distant sounds as tears streak down your face.
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new era >
• this johnny is like a mix of the former two, but with his own little quirks! i believe this man is a switch through and through with a heavy preference for submission. but, yknow, that being said, sometimes a man just needs to fuck his girl's brains out and watch the tears flow!
• he's a man that's desperate for reassurance and this carries through during sex. he's not insecure, he just loves inflating his own ego.
• "you like that? you like how i fuck you?" he asks with deep whines in between. "tell me how much you love this, baby, please — aah —"
• he'll wipe your tears but secretly pray they keep flowing. it gets him off so good to see how much he affects you.
• also, ngl, i feel like he loves to be overstimulated too. a long ass day of shooting, he comes home and literally wants to get edged and overwhelmed for hours just to release all that pent up energy. he's a crier too <3
• 🚨 🚨 IPAD BABY 🚨 🚨
• he looooves to record you guys have sex, and if he even hears the slightest sniffle from you, the phone shoots to his hand like telekinesis. he's gotta capture every time he fucks you crazy, it's his favorite little memento to hold onto.
• "you look so pretty when you cry," he purrs out, stroking your hair as you choke on his dick. "could never get tired of this sight." he'll play with your hair but also use your throat as his own personal fleshlight. angle or debil.
• if anything, he loves to ruin pretty things. he'll feel accomplished when your lipstick is a mere memory, your clothes are missing buttons and your mascara is now painted down your cheeks. his favorite part of sex is cleaning you up, and his second favorite is ruining you to begin with.
• johnny would honestly love to keep going after you start crying, but he literally can't. he cums the second you're overstimulated because the sight alone gets him there so damn fast. as soon as the waterworks pool in your eyes, he's already getting sloppy with his thrusts and his groans turn into whines.
• he'll kiss your eyelids after sex, the heat of his body providing comfort after the rounds upon rounds of ruthless orgasms. he'd probably also lick your cheek to rid of the tears because it's funny.
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thebearer · 9 months ago
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willow attempting to scare richie but when tho she poorly hid herself and he could see her he still acts like she’s the scariest
he's so good at it too.
fak actually might be better because he really goes there.
so one time, when teddy was a teeny toddler, she was going through a 'scaring' phase. she wasn't very good at it, thankfully, but she loved to 'scare' people.
she'd run ahead and hide around corners, and pop out at you or carmen or whoever, then die of laughter lol. it was honestly cute, and so you and carmen just let it happen bc it's cute? and she's little? and she's not hurting anyone- everyone knows when she's 'hiding' she's not very good at it lol.
anyways, so one day, at the restaurant she's helping richie and fak 'set up' and decides she's going to 'scare' them. she hides behind a booth, and richie's like grinning, looks at fak, "watch this." he mutters. "aye, neil, you see teddy anywhere?" real loud and dramatic, and they can hear her giggling.
fak blinks like ??? "yeah, richie, she-she's right ther-"
"-hey, don't be a jagoff, alright? what's the matter with you?" richie hisses, rolling his eyes. "neil, do me a favor and, uh, will you check behind that booth? make sure the tables good?" loud and dramatic again.
neil is so confused but walks over, right as he's turning, teddy jumps out with a "boo!" giggling and excited. richie gives a loud "oh! you gto me! you scared me, kid, where were you?" because he's richie. he's silly and a little dramatic.
neil on the other hand... he just blinks at her. "the tables fine, richie."
teddy's little face falls and she's pouty and it's no longer fun in there, so she goes to find carmen or you or tina or someone fun.
"the fucks the matter with you?" richie throws a hand up. "you tryna be a jerkoff? huh? you know that's cousin's kid? what? you got a problem with him? with her? because you know, neil geoff, that's my god daughter right there, and if we've got an issue you-"
"-no, no, no, no. what? richie? no." neil's backed up away from a furious richie.
"then why are you bein' a dickwad right now? why would you do that, huh?"
"i'm not being a dickwad!"
"you're definitely bein' a dickwad. teddy pretends to scare you, and you- you what? you're not gonna pretend to be scared? for a kid? your cousin's kid? c'mon you-"
"-richie, i could see her." fak scoffs. "she didn't scare me. i could see her the whole time."
richie just blinks at him because honestly he is at a loss for words. "you... you're a fucking moron."
"hey! you can't call me that-"
"-no i can and i will. what's the matter with you? of course you can see her. you think i couldn't? you pretend to be scared, you cazzone. play it up." richie huffs.
and neil takes that personally.
the next time teddy does it, neil wants to make up for the fact that he didn't give such a big reaction.
she hides, and when she jumps out, neil screams. like a final girl, horror movie kind of scream.
"teddy! you scared me! oh my god, oh my god! you scared the shi- i mean, you scared me!"
and he really thinks he's done a good job, and in a way he has.
except it scared the shit out of teddy this time.
she freezes, face falls in fear because he screamed really loud and scared her. everyone's there in a matter of seconds, scared by the scream.
"what? what's the matter? what happened?" carmen is panicking, even more so when teddy is sobbing towards him. "what's wrong? you alright? you alright? richie, what the- what happened?"
"you're a fucking moron." richie snarls, walking over to carmen.
"what? what did i do now? you told me to play it up! richie!" fak follows him, feeling guiltier than before.
he has a lot of time to practice. by the time willow comes around, he's perfected the in between of being realistically scared... to a toddler's standards lol. fak's actually pretty good at it by then, can really play it up to get her giggling and happy.
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Text
Babysitting Their Kid-Selves
I threw this together in a haze on Discord uhhhh enjoy thank you to @windalchemist001 for putting the idea In My Brain
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HEARTSLAYBUL
Riddle - struggles between wanting to help his youngerself have positive experiences, but also knows that depending on how old he is, it might just be super stress inducing. Finds a middle ground in giving his younger self an "easy" assignment and then giving him the time of his life, 10/10
Trey - he's burnt out from being the oldest, and from momming Riddle, and from taking care of the dorm. His kid self is being told to go play outside and don't get hurt (which his kid self obeys, and comes in when he's hungry and that's about it) very laissez-faire bc he can't be bothered. He knows the other boys in the dorm wouldn't let his kid self get hurt anyways, especially Riddle, who likely ends up taking the brunt of the responsibility 7/10
Cater - hehe yeah his kid self is Traumatized, he brings him to play video games/teach him to skate board/intro to Not Sweet snacks and ends up getting a kid trauma dumping to him. Or. he sees his kid self and nopes out, immediately asks anyone else to take care of him because he's gonna go :sparkles:cry:sparkles: but you don't need to know that. Either 9/10 or a 2/10
Deuce - Awkward at first, but honestly, just does what his mom did for him, smooth sailing, 10/10
Ace - "hah, I'm the best babysitter in the world, only the coolest kids can handle me. Think you have what it takes?" <- secretly really good with kids but only because he had his big brother as a role model. He also knows now all the tricks his big brother used on kid him so he has some fun being that to himself, as much as a handful as kid self is. 8/10
SAVANNACLAW
Leona - Sees how hopeful his younger self was, knows that Savannaclaw knows better than to fuck with it, leaves his child self in community care and leaves bc he doesn't want to reminded of the love he didn't recieve when he was little 10/10 for looking out for both of their mental health
Ruggie - oh my god he adores younger self, teaches him everything he knows, uses his "adorability" to his advantage, but also uses Leona's cash to buy ingredients for a food his younger self rarely got to try as a treat. Honestly, 10/10
Jack - He's a little awkward around his kid self, asks Leona for advice, gets none, asks Vil for advice, Vil ends up Momming and taking over sorry baby Jack. N/A he didn't give up the child intentionally but he also didn't really get to babysit
OCTAVINELLE
Azul - Oh hell no, like at first its like "look how far of come" but the self loathing immediately takes over again. Kid Azul's only saving "grace" is the tweels who terrify the baby by accident but are actually really soft and caring with him. Azul just makes sure his kid self has something to hide in bc "nobody wants to look at that" 2/10
Jade - Knows What He's Doing, and he's going to treat his kid self as gently as possible because he knows what's coming for him in later years :) 10/10
Floyd - Does fine until the kid cries and then pawns his kid self off to Jade 6/10
SCARABIA
Kalim - He's a big brother, but he's not big brother, you know? He likes to make sure the kid has fun and feels safe but he forgets to take breaks and give him water and oh god now he's on a magic carpet bc child self has to go to the bathroom and they're on the WRONG side of the dorm. Very caring, very loving, a little airheaded. If he takes his attention off him he wanders off. Jamil usually has to step in, but neither of them want him to. 7/10
Jamil - In a similar boat to Leona, but instead of leaving his kid self to someone else, he ends up going off campus with his kid self and lets him beat him in races/video games/ dance offs/ etc. so he can feel like he's the best at something for once. They end up cooking together, and honestly it heals adult Jamil a lot too 10/10
POMEFIORE
Vil - Carries a bit of contempt as well as admiration for his younger self. There is a part of him that wishes things had gone differently. Vil likely ends up keeping his kid self in his room all day, but while they're in there, they do all the things Vil remembers wishing he could do, like throwing a tantrum, finally having his feelings about Neige be validated, making a mess, eating whatever he wants, etc. etc. It's just it takes half the day for him to get to that point, before there's a break through it's almost pure ice on adult Vil's side with his kid self just sitting on the bed. 6/10
Rook - Doesn't want anything to do with his kid self, knows his kid self is self sufficient, tells him to not talk to anyone and leaves him alone. ???/10
Epel - Epel uses his kid self as an excuse to go get messy and dirty and play all day. He WILL blame his kid self for any accidents that may occur inside of Pomefiore. Kid self finds it unfair but funny, but can be bought back with some apple slices with caramel. It's a lot of fun, but a lot of clean up. 8/10
IGNIHYDE
Idia - Blames his younger self for the whole ||Ortho|| thing and uh. Would probably lock him out of his room. Ignores/pretends he doesn't exist. Kid Idia seeing ||Ortho "alive"|| would probably have him breaking down. 0/10
Ortho - .....
DIASOMNIA
Malleus - Can't handle his kid self as much as he insists that he can. Probably does something that accidentally triggers himself (both versions) and Lilia has to take over before there's a major melt down. They do have ice cream together after. 5/10
Lilia + Silver - I'm Waiting, Sorry
Sebek - Doesn't want to take care of his kid self. At first he thinks it's cool but then his kid self is biting everything, asking so many questions, getting close to Malleus without permission, showing off his adorable baby side, and kinda hates big Sebek purely because he has magic "already". (Sebek was canonically a 'late bloomer' with magic). He gets Too Stressed and then also gets more pissed off when Silver seems to do a better job baby sitting, but Lilia runs intervention. uhh. 3/10
hhhhhhhhhh bye Tag list: @fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain
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tastesousweet · 1 year ago
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⭒ the girl with the tattoo (i)
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grumpy!matt sturniolo x sunshine!fem oc / reader
summary : matt is a grumpy tattoo artist and y/n books him for her first tattoo.
warnings : needles and pain (not very detailed tho)
mickey speaks : i don't have any tattoos so i actually know nothing ab the procedure lmaooo just guessing but i’ll be writing multiple parts for this. also i am very much self indulging bc i headcannon y/n as poc! but obvi anyone can read there's not much exclusivity ab how i write her, i js wanted to note that for any poc readers <3.
THIS IS PART 1 BTW!!!!
“SHITTT,” you draw out the last syllable at the rumble and screech of your car engine as you continue your attempt to start it.
eventually you throw your head backwards in defeat, annoyed by the unbudging car. this is the actual worst timing. you're supposed to be at the tattoo shop (that is a 12 minute drive from your apartment complex) for an appointment in less than twenty minutes.
you truly want to scream and border on throwing a tantrum but decide it would probably be better to find a solution than complain about the agony further.
you quickly find your roommate's contact, raising your phone to your ear and pinching your eyes shut as the vibrating ring hums through your skull.
"y/n? what's up?" andrea answers confused as you had only just walked out of the door five minutes ago.
"hi drea... so i know you have your own plans right now but is there any way you can give me a ride... please?"
you hear shuffling on the line, "mmm, where to?"
౨ৎ
“thank you again for driving me,” you smile at andrea and squeeze her hand before reaching for the door.
“yes, of course. you can call me when you’re done and i’ll head over here- m’sorry i can’t stay with you.” she replies and exaggerates a frown.
"i'll be fine, i think- i hope..."
"you will be fine. just don't stress or it'll hurt more."
౨ৎ
your arms are crossed tightly over your chest as you make your way into the shop (in its form of an oversized warehouse, fixed up to look stylish and comfortable- something you’d never really seen before). the rickety jingle of a small bell kindly indicates your presence to the rest of the shop.
a few people sitting in a waiting area look up before continuing their conversations (though some continued to stare as you walk by). you see a surprising amount of people crowding in a brightly decorated lounge area, housing many arcade games and a kitchenette.
you reach the receptionist desk and are greeted by a young man dressed casually, humming along to the music playing in the background of the space.
“um, hi. i’m here for my 1:30 appointment.” you state with a smile, you’re suddenly aware of how nervous you truly are.
the brunette looks over to a desktop screen with a soft scrunch of his face, “for y/n, right? huh, that’s crazy…” he rubs his chin, “1:30 was like nine minutes ago,” he looks up at you, almost like he was questioning you; who do you think you are? and why do you think you’re important enough to be late?
as soon as your face begins to morph into fear and embarrassment his own face splits into a large smile as he laughs softly. “i’m sorry- i’m such an ass but i had to- your file said you’re new clientele so i just had to fuck around.”
“you’re sick! i was fully prepared for a fucking lecture on timeliness or something,” you let out a soft laugh.
the boy comes from around the desk holding a paper and clipboard. “yeah, sorry, i’m chris,” he reaches a hand out to which you willingly return and restate your name to him, “‘m not usually up front so you probably talked to asha over the phone when booking.”
you nod and smile at the familiar name, “yeah, she was so helpful over the phone.”
“she’s awesome, i miss her,” he touches each of his shoulders then forehead before kissing his hand and pointing to the sky.
"oh my god? i'm sorry for your loss."
his eyes squint and lips pucker in confusion, "oh, she's not fired she's just on vacation right now."
"so why'd you...?"
chris cuts you off by handing you the clipboard and grabbing a pen from a cluttered mason jar on the desk as he explains, “okay, we’re just gonna have you fill out this quick consultation form; just so you and your artist will be on the same page about things.” you nod in understanding. “keep it brief, matt’s not big on reading large bodies of text,” chris laughs.
“got it,” you smile before turning to find a chair and begin writing. you truly were relieved that chris wasn’t hard on you about being late, for a second you thought you would be lectured and have to carry the guilt of dissapointing someone into a room where you'd be paying to lie in excruciating physical pain. (damn, double homecide)
the sheet had general information to fill before the questions specifically about the tattoo you’d be getting today came.
you go back up to chris once you’re finished.
“cool, follow me we’ll set you up with matt.” he leads the way and your nerves are suddenly back as it's feeling more and more real with each step. you pacify your thoughts by looking around at the many images and messages written in sharpie along the walls of the hallway. there's also plenty of hanging shelves around with vintage trinkets and succulents that compliment the space around.
chris reaches a curtain and dips his head past as if he were checking for something before giving you a chance to see. you notice the small "Matt" embroidered on the black curtain. chris then opens it wide enough for the both of you to walk into the surprisingly large space.
(who you can only assume to be) matt sits comfortably in a wheeled desk chair, legs spread. his elbow rests on the arm of the chair and he holds his head up with two of his fingers, as his middle finger grazes his irritated mouth with a stern look on his face while he scrolls on his phone.
he doesn’t move his position when he looks up at the two of you.
“alright! matt this is y/n,” chris motions between you two. matt hums, placing his phone on the desk and placing his hand out expectantly for the clipboard. chris goes to hand it to him and whispers, “fix your face, jackass,” then turning around to leave you some reassuring words, “good luck y/n, the tat’s gonna look amazing.”
but chris doesn’t see matt exaggerating a large, sarcastic smile from behind him in defense of chris’ words (he immediately drops it though). something that would make you at least giggle if you weren’t so nervous.
“thanks,” your voice is a little hoarse as you haven’t used it in some time. matt watches the boy leave before looking over to you. he rolls the chair closer, reading over your short (as requested) responses.
“you can sit down.” he forms it almost as a question like are you going to sit down or do i have to direct you to do everything?
you sit on the black cushioned bench, lined with a disposable white cloth and begin to fidget with your fingernails as matt goes over your paperwork quietly.
“''kay, so you’re getting a small hello kitty on your lower hip?” he summarizes while checking and signing a few lines on a paper.
“yeah, um, i told asha over the phone that way you could have it sketched already- she told me that’s best and saves time for the both of us.”
his response is a slowed nod and a breathy, “yep,” as he rolls over to his desk and places the clipboard on the surface before opening a drawer and digging through it.
you gaze around the room and wonder if he decorated the space himself or if he wasn’t the type to be bothered enough to add personal things to his work area. almost all the posters are of music artists or tattoos, the most personal things you see are a small picture frame on his desk and a pokémon plushie sat on a chair in the corner of the room. all of which just pose more questions in your working brain.
you notice him switching to a different swivel chair that is lower to the ground and bringing himself (as well as a moving table with already prepared supplies) closer to you.
you’re nervous again. even after your roommate and older brother have both given you advice on first tattoos and the pain expected you’re still finding yourself scared of what to expect. your ear piercings would have nothing on this.
“first tattoo?” matt clarifies, as if he could read your mind. you nod and go to speak but stop when he gestures for you to lay back on the cushion.
you’re sure that he only was searching for a quick confirmation from you and is not too interested in your life or what brings you here but you’ve found that talking relieves your own stress and you absolutely cannot just lay there and only speak when spoken to.
“yeah, i guess m’nervous. i just hope i don’t, like, die from pain or hate the outcome or curse myself in a couple years for the placement- but it's not that i'm doubting that it'd be cute. younger me would be screaming at the fact that i'm even here..." you pause just for a second. "but then again i'm not sure how much forty year old me will appreciate it. so i guess i just don’t know. you know?”
you lean yourself up to get a look at matt, only to realize he has airpods in and simply has not been listening or interested in you (just as you expected). he’s moving his head the smallest amount to the beat as he works on his sketch.
he notices your movement though and takes a headphone out of his ear, “are you okay?” is all he asks.
a pretty broad question. and an anxiety inducing question to ask a girl who's been questioning her decisions as much as you have. you hope you’re okay. will you still be okay when this (mostly) permanent decision is etched into your skin forever? is he okay? will he give you any sense of encouragement or comfort during this process? are tattoo artists typically like this or are you just considered especially needy clientele?
“yeah, i just was- like, curious, i guess.” you mumble a little and internally hate that you feel so insecure in this situation. so out of control.
“was just adjusting my sketch to be a smaller. nothing crazy happening over here.” he shrugs. “you can go ahead and pull your shirt up, though. i’m just gonna clean the area and prep before inking.” he explains to you very straight and to the point.
you fall back into place and obey, inching your shirt up further to expose your lower stomach. you drape your arms over your face to gain composure as you hear matt rip some packaging.
the coolness of the cleaning pad sends your stomach butterflies and you try to not think too hard about the fact that matt’s hands will be on your lower stomach and hip for a good length of time.
eventually matt speaks to you again, “i’m starting so if you’re feeling the need to get the fuck out you gotta do it now or for forever hold your peace.”
you smile a little at his dry joke but when you turn your head to see him fully serious you blink, “no, i’ll be fine. thanks though.”
he just nods his head and goes to put his airpods back in before you’re interrupting again, “wait. whatcha listening to?”
he’s suprised by the question. his clients rarely get too involved in what he’s doing. mostly because he does a great fucking job no matter how few words he may utter over an entire session. there's a mutual understanding there that he's never had to speak up about to anyone. other artists use a strong bond or charisma to secure returning customers but matt finds there’s nothing better to display than his pure talent and passion for his craft. that’s how he keeps clients. they ask and he will always deliver; and that’s how he particularly likes it. no questions and minimal conversation.
the sound of the tattoo gun begins and just for your sake he decides to answer the question without malice, “just some frank ocean instrumental tracks." he places his hands back onto your skin, "don’t start moving.”
you pinch your eyes shut and squeeze your forearms as soon as the initial pain takes over. it’s a feeling you can only describe as a needle poking into you a trillion times at once. which is literally what's happening to you.
you’re not oblivious to matt’s disengagement with your attempts at conversation but you need him to continue to speak to you or else you’ll think too much about the needle actively puncturing you. “oh yeah? i’ve never listened to him before…”
“surprising. he’s pretty big.” matt mumbles slightly, focusing on his work far more than his slight interest in your knowledge of frank ocean.
“mhm. i’ve been meaning to give him a listen. could you share?”
matt’s eyes just move to look up at your face as he tries not to beg you to just be quiet and let him do this so that you both can leave within an hour. “i’m good on that.” he returns to tattooing.
“huh? you can’t share music?”
“i would prefer not to but-” he doesn’t even know why he’s continuing to fuel this anymore.
“what if i add a pretty,” you pause to wince a little as the needle moves lower, “pretty please?”
“i’m almost done,” he mumbles the lie.
“matt?”
he pauses for only a second to glance over to you. he’s met with a face scrunched in pain with an attempted smile that he thinks makes you look more like a doped up hippie than the cute effect you were going for. you plead after his glance, “pretty please?”
he rolls his eyes and sets his tattoo gun down, reluctantly swiveling over to his desk. before you even realize what exactly he’s doing there’s a airy beat of drums and piano playing from a small speaker in the room.
once he's back over to you he can tell you’re smiling even though your face is mostly covered by your arms. “thank you, i needed a distraction or something.”
he mumbles an “mhm” and returns to his work.
౨ৎ
there was generally no talking after that. only a few moments you observed (due to your need to cling on to literally anything going on besides the pinching at your lower side) that were any indication of matt's quiet presence. you noticed when matt would softly hum the lyrics to the instrumentals over the speaker and when you began to tap your fingers out of boredom and nerves, to which he simply placed his hand over them to force them flat while muttering a small “stop.”
when matt was completely finished he asked you if he could take a picture to add to his instagram and you agreed eagerly. he then added a strip of tattoo film over a layer of protective ointment. after he helped you to fully stand he explained how to care for it and how important cleaning is because “that shit will get gunky as fuck.” and you told him that you promise to do everything he said. he also gave you a detailed list on a card for you to follow just in case you forget.
you glance down at your tattoo one last time before you begin to leave the room you’d just spent a lengthy hour of your life in. you assume matt doesn’t want much else from you until he calls your name from his desk. you turn and see him still looking at his phone before glancing up, “uh, what’s your insta handle, so i can tag you in this?”
you don’t know why you’re surprised but you are.
you agree to exchange handles with him before deciding to compliment him once more, “my tattoo is perfect, by the way. i love it so much, thank you.” you want to tell him that you hope you didn’t annoy him too much but you don’t know if that will annoy him more. so you take his nod and hint of a smile as his way of showing appreciation, keeping your own smile bright to mask the crushing feeling of someone seeming so indifferent towards you.
after walking past the curtain and through the trinket-filled hallway you’re back to the main area of the warehouse. you see a different collection of people gathered playing pool and some more huddled on a couch looking at a girl’s phone in awe. chris is busy talking with what seems to be a close friend when you walk up to the reception desk.
when his eyes find your bright expression he’s bouncing back with energy, “hey! i’m assuming it went well?" he asks.
"very well. glad it's over though, i can't lie." you laugh while taking your debit card from your purse.
"yeah, definitely not the best feeling. especially when matt's ugly face is that close to you." chris jokes and takes your card to cash you out.
you laugh along with him but assure him that matt's looks weren't an issue. he raises his eyebrows and has a growing smirk that travels to his eyes when he gives you your card back. you try not the blush at the implication, "i didn't mean it like that."
"right," he nods and chuckles softly, "well hopefully you'll be back for another eventually?" he hands you a receipt.
"i mean how could i not with such a sweet receptionist asking me? i'm sure you get everyone to come back," you joke.
chris shrugs with a cocky grin, "somethin' like that."
౨ৎ
"oh my god it's fucking adorable, what?!" andrea exclaims with a spoonful of frozen yogurt still in her mouth.
she initally begged to see it as soon as she picked you up but you dramatically told her you had just experienced the worst pain of your life and you'd need a sweet treat if you were planning to not sleep the rest of the day away. so she just rolled her eyes and demanded you show her once you both arrive at your favorite frozen yogurt shop (conveniently down the street from your apartment complex).
"i knowww," you respond and quickly pull the lower part of your shirt down with a smile, taking a seat across from drea.
"how'd it go, though? i'm curious. i've only been to warehouse 79 like once, and it was for an event."
"it was good, they were all generally kind and my guy did exactly what i wanted. i'm pretty happy."
"'my guy,' oh okayy?" she takes a bite and smirks.
"not what i meant! i should have just said matt. like, the guy who did my tattoo-"
"mhmm."
"stop.” you smirk, “i mean he was not ugly by any means but he seemed to not care to get to know me at all. which is fine, he's not paid to care about me. but i doubt i'll ever see him again." you shrug taking another bite of frozen yogurt.
꩜⋆ ˚。⋆🎱˚
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webslingingslasher · 1 year ago
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thinking about nerdy!peter getting reader a gift for national girlfriend day and feeling shy bc he doesn't know how to give it to her or if she'll like what he got her🥹🥵
it was a dumb gift and a dumb idea. it sounded better in his head, but knowing you were minutes away he was sent into a panic and told himself the flowers would be enough. and they were. you thought they were beautiful.
three days later and you're drumming pencils against his desk. peter let out a groan of your name, you had no regard for his desperate attempt to finish his tiny bit of homework.
'nope, don't care. you promised me ten minutes, twenty minutes ago.'
peter scoffed, your attempts won't work on him. 'the one time i encourage you to go on a deep dive of youtube shorts, you suddenly hate your phone.'
you drum out a solo, peter's clenching his jaw at the god awful wacks. 'i love my phone, i just love annoying you more.' he allows it for another minute, then it starts to hurt his ears.
'baby, please.' it's his 'i'm being nice, but i'm done playing' voice. you drop the pencils in a second, choosing to blow horse breaths and spin slowly in his chair.
you mumble out a song stuck in your head, your spins come to a stop. hidden, underneath the tiny shelf of his desk, a wrapped box. the hiding space is so uniuque you wouldn't have seen it unless you were in this circumstance, bored and looking for something to do.
your head tilts, you assume peter had forgotten about it too. your socks glide over his floor as you scooch in closer, it's a skinny box and only about five inches long.
'oh, c'mon. i was really enjoying your rendition of billie jean.'
you grab the box, it's light. it's not as dusty as you expected, it looked newly placed. you spin towards him, 'what's this?'
peter slowly looks up from his textbook, his eyes stare at the box in your hand. he's quiet for a bit too long, 'um, a gift.' you break into a smile, 'for who? for you?' you shove it out, 'open it!'
he looks at it like it's poison, but carefully grabs it and sets it next to him on the other side of his leg. your shoulders drop, 'open it, petey!' peter shakes his head, 'i will later, let me finish this first.'
you boo at him, 'c'mon, nerd. you can spare two minutes, i'm curious!' peter ignores you and it doesn't sit right, 'who's it from?' suddenly you're thinking it's from someone he doesn't want you to know about.
'no one.' you don't like how he's brushing you off, or lying.
'really? you got yourself a gift, wrapped it and hid it? from yourself?'
your boyfriend shuts his textbook and looks at you carefully. peter grabs the gift box and runs his thumbs across a seam.
'it's for you.'
your eyes soften. 'i got it for national girlfriend's day but it's dumb so i didn't give it to you.' your heart melts for him, 'why do you think it's dumb?'
he shrugs, you hate when peter's unconfident. 'i don't know. i just don't want you to not like it so, i guess i took away that option.' it hurts to know he thinks you wouldn't like a gift from him. it's not about what it was, it was the thought that mattered most.
'well,' you rest into the back of the chair. 'if you don't want to give it to me that's fine, just make sure you get your money back.' it was too understanding for peter's comfort.
'i want to give it to you, i just don't want you to hate it.'
you frown at him, 'why would i hate it?' he could explain it to you, or you could just see for yourself. peter hands over the box, you take it with caution to make sure he could stop the transaction at any moment.
'open it.'
you're weary, you don't want to force him. 'are you sure?'
peter seems more confident, 'it's for you.' you slowly start to unwrap it, before you can get far you stop and look back up. 'if i don't like it do you want me to be honest?'
'i don't think you'd be able to hide it.'
you tear open the paper, a gift box stops you. when you peer up, peter looks away, you pull the top off and gaze at the gift. your chest swells, you can't do anything but gasp.
'peter, oh my god.' you can't speak, it's beautiful, you have no idea how he could think you'd hate it. you've always wanted something like it, you think you've mentioned it to him before too.
your lower lip wobbles, 'i love it, thank you.' peter stills, 'really?' you nod, you can feel tears blot at your eyes, they're nothing but admiration for the boy in front of you.
'i told you i wanted one.' you cry because you feel seen.
peter smiles in relief, 'you did.' you take a sharp inhale, 'and you listened.' he laughs, he doesn't know why he was so scared, 'i did.'
you peer at the box again, a silver necklace with a pendant. It had a 'P' engraved. you hide your face, you feel like sobbing. you've never had anything so nice.
you hear peter move around, then he's hugging you. you jump up and wrap your hands around his neck, keeping a tight hold on the necklace. 'i love it. i love you.'
peter's warm and soft, 'i love you, too.' you push him away to wipe your nose, before handing him the box of understandment.
'put it on me?' 
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grandlinedreams · 1 year ago
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helloooo!! i was wondering if you could write a story about how law and the reader had a fight, but the reader feels really bad about it,, so they take a hit for him in an battle and almost die ?!!
i understand if you don’t feel comfortable with writing this,,, have a good day/night !!🫶🏻
OUGH I LOVE THAT TROPE TOO GOD LET'S BRING THE PAIN TRAIN but also love putting Law in situations. like bro if you didn't want to don't be so blorbo (borrowing a lil bit from one of my favorite books bc it has a scene like that and OOF)
[heads up!: angst, blood/injury]
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There's blood on his hands.
Thick and smelling of copper, it covers his tattoos, his fingertips, his palms. When he looks at his reflection, he distantly notes that it's spattered against his neck and his shirt, too.
There's so much of it, and none of it is his.
"Captain?" Bepo's voice is small and hollow, uncertain as he watches Law sway a little at the sink before he turns the handle and begins scrubbing at his hands. "Are you okay?"
Law wants to laugh. What a stupid question ㅡ but he isn't sure how to answer. Does Bepo mean physically? Mentally? Emotionally? He scrubs at his nails, watches his skin tint pink from the force. Watery red swirls down the drain. "I'm fine, Bepo."
They both know he's lying.
"I'm telling you, this is a bad idea!" Your eyes are narrowed, blazing with fury as you jab your finger into Law's chest for emphasis. "You know better than this. There's no way this will end well, Law. You're going to get someone killed!"
Law's temper flares, and he reaches to bat your hand away from him before he steps around you. "If you have such a problem with the way I lead this crew, then maybe you shouldn't be part of it."
Law won't let anyone else change your bandages.
He winds and unwinds them, an endless loop with peeks at skin knitted back together with thick black thread. His hands ache with the memory of sewing you back together, knowing he'd been actively trying to wrench death's bony fingers from around you.
Pulling back, his gaze drifts over the bandages to the steady rise and fall of your chest. If there's a god who takes requests, he's ready to offer up a plea for you to make it out of this. You have to. You need to.
He still has to apologize.
It takes almost a week before you open your eyes. It's the twitch of your fingers that alerts him first, the shift in your breathing ㅡ and then you're staring at him. Your expression is blank and your eyes are still a little cloudy from medicated sleep, but you're awake. You're alive.
There are a thousand things that Law could say and should, but what tumbles from his lips is nowhere close to any of them.
"You're an idiot."
You blink at him. "Your bedside manner is terrible," you croak, hissing when pain lances up your left side like a wildfire. "What happened? Did I get in a fight with a sea king and lose?"
Law doesn't laugh at your attempt at humor, terrible as it is. He lets his gaze drift, assessing your injuries from minor to major, as he's done for days now. He doesn't want to look at the biggest one, the one that almost took you from him ㅡ so he stares at the bandaid on your cheek. "You were right," he finally says. "About that informant."
You blink. "Oh." You try to move a little, trying to see what else hurts. "Could you repeat that? It's not every day that I hear you admit that I was right about something."
His eyes narrow as his temper flares. "Don't joke," he hisses, "you almost died because you just had to get in the way."
He's doing this all wrong, he knows that ㅡ but he can't quite control his tongue because somewhere he's still a child demanding to know why someone is willing to risk their life for him.
"You're right," you say, and when he looks up he finds you watching him, expression neutral. "I shouldn't joke. I'm sorry."
Law studies you for several long minutes before he speaks again. "Why did you do it?"
"What do you mean?"
His eyes narrow. "Don't play dumb, [Name]. You know what I mean."
You stare at the ceiling, counting the rivets. "Because the Heart Pirates are nothing without our captain," you say, "because we can't afford to lose you. And...I needed to apologize."
Law stares.
"...Apologize." He hears you mumble softly, paler than he's ever seen you as he gathers you up, clutches at you like that alone will stop you from bleeding to death before he ever gets a chance to try and save you.
"So you almost got yourself killed in order to apologize to me? That'sㅡ"
"Something an idiot would do," you interrupt. "Good to know I'm doing what's expected of me."
"Youㅡ" Law shuts his mouth with the click of teeth, jaw taut as he tries his best not to blow up on you before his shoulders sag with a sigh. "Just concentrate on healing. And don't pull a stupid stunt like this ever again." He reaches up, giving the brim of his hat a nervous tug. "I don't like almost losing crewmates."
He doesn't like almost losing you.
"Does that mean I'm still part of the Heart Pirates?" He's confused by your question before the crux of this entire ordeal comes back to him ㅡ the argument the two of you'd had. He doesn't know if you mean to turn the knife, but you do as you repeat his words to him. "If you have such a problem with the way I lead this crew, then maybe you shouldn't be part of it."
His stomach twists. "You're still part of this crew," he reassures you, "which is why I'm telling you that you're not allowed to pull stupid stunts like this again. Am I clear?"
Your eyes lock. "Yes, captain."
The expression on his face softens. "Good."
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semperamans · 6 months ago
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i'm going to hell bc all i can think about is attendin' a picnic and betty is there :( and you like her, you really do, she's pretty and nice but she's johnny's fucking wife n'that's a problem because johnny is yours :( doesn’t johnny know that it breaks your heart to see the two of 'em together? johnny is supposed to be holdin' onto you :( dropping kisses on your knuckles as you tug him toward your tent :( but no. he’s doing it with betty. you really don't wanna be toxic, don't wanna be mean, but it does make you feel better when you see johnny's smile splat on the fuckin' ground when he and betty rejoin the group and he sees that you're sat on danny's lap. so you decide two can play this game.
everything becomes about danny. danny. danny. danny who extinguishes your on-fire marshmallows. danny who licks his thumb and swipes your lower lip to get the sticky residue off. danny who poses you here and there for photographs because "m'gonna need somethin' to show my ma and pa when i tell 'em 'bout the girl i'm gonna marry." and oh! johnny is mad, but this is what he wanted, right? wanted you to pretend like you weren't madly fucking in love with him. who wanted to parade his wife around in front of you. so you enjoy yourself! you avoid benny's confused looks! dodge johnny's furrowed brows! slip past him on the way to danny's tent with a smile and a petulant wave because this! is! what! he! wanted!
but now it's gotta be three in the morning and betty is sound asleep, snorin' softly in his ear, and Johnny can only imagine the things danny is doin' to you. to his baby. he lets out a sick-sounding sigh that stirs the woman at his side, but she doesn't wake and he's left to fight with his fucking brain until he can't stand it anymore. he shuffles into his shoes, slips his jacket over his pajama shirt, and ventures into the night searchin' for you. he doesn't know what he's gonna do - what he can do - i mean it's not like he can cause a fuckin' scene without betty gettin' suspicious, but he thinks about what would happen if he were to stroll by danny's tent and hear those precious little mewing sounds you make when you're close to cumming and god, he knows he'd tear the world apart - tear danny apart at the very least.
it's quiet, though. when he presses his ear to the nylon he hears nothing, which is good, he supposes. but fuck, he's not going to be able to sleep - not gonna be able to close his eyes without seeing you and danny. you and danny. you and danny.
"benny? y'wake?"
johnny doesn't wait - unzips benny's tent and let's himself in - and that's when he finds you. his sweet angel curled against a barely conscious benny.
"she came in 'bout two hours ago. right after y'went to bed." benny mumbles, rubbing his ringed fingers down your arm. "s'real upset at ya." johnny knows. he fucking knows and wants to kick his own ass but what is he supposed to do? he didn't know you or benny existed ten fucking years ago when he married betty. if he had... if he had then things woulda been different. so that's what he tells him. tells benny all that and how he doesn't know how to fix it - doesn't know how to make it right - just knows he loves you so much it hurts and that he doesn't feel the same for betty, not anymore.
so that's what you hear as you pretend to sleep in benny's arms.
n'that's what turns betty's stomach as she presses her ear to the canvas.
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