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kalims · 1 year ago

Text

he's a ten but he...

premise. sometimes certain bad habits of theirs make their overall rating just a tad bit lower—besides the fact that they keep doing it.

characters. dorm leaders

content. gender neutral reader

malleus (doesn't have a sense of space)

"look beastie, that flower is a native of ours,"

"I agree mal, but I didn't think you taking up the entirety of my seat will make me see it better,"

he blinks, then shrugs.

like i said, has NO sense of space.

if an average person would make an excuse to constantly be in physical contact with who they admire, then malleus is the complete opposite. well, not entirely but he doesn't even bother to construct an explanation as to why he's literally sat over your seat when you coincidentally get put in a table together.

if you start questioning him about it the most you'll get in a very outright 'because he wanted to.' it's not even one of those sarcastic replies he's 100% serious!

cause he believes there's no use in lying about things to be honest.. to further emphasize that, if he ever acts like he does hold fondness for you that surpasses the platonic meter but doesn't mention it he probably hasn't realized yet.

if he did he'd already walk over and bluntly tell you about it.

(I wish I could be that unbothered.)

lilia thinks it's the cutest thing though. you swear you see flashes of light for a split second from the ceiling but when you look up there's only a suspicious swinging chandelier.

^ totally has his own album full of pictures.

if malleus ever discovers it he won't even be disturbed, probably would ask for a copy 💯

since human lives, and their bodies are so fragile he'd taken it upon himself to protect you from harm. even if it means trailing behind you everywhere way too close for comfort, or standing a bees wing away.

while he is respectful most of the time, he's encouraged if you don't comment. if anything, he seems pleased you dont seem to be bothered! (and it'll get harder to tell him to stop when he's so happy the more you let it happen..)

"child of man, have you slept?"

*starts leaning his body forward, to squint at your eyes.* practically right in front of your face.

"WTF."

not even a warning or anything! but atleast he's concerned?

idia (won't even show up for anything and insists a 'virtual' date is better.')

user: where tf r u??

ghoul666: WDYM? at the dorm?

user: IVE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR 20 MINUTES

unintentionally stood you up 💀

you literally have to tell him that you're waiting for him to arrive at the specified area you discussed where your date would take place but would end up vastly irritated when he questions if you guys even did.

ghoul666: we do??

user: I'm taking my minecraft bed away from urs.

ghoul666: NO PLS

ghoul666: HELLO????

next time you log in minecraft it's probably because he begged you to play, you WILL end up seeing some kind of structure that probably took days to make. that's not even the entire thing cause the inside is entirely decorated to your taste.

in short: he constructed some kind of venue for a wedding.. even changed his skin to wear a tuxedo 😭

though he has sparked your pettiness, hence the ignoring him period. even you have got to admit that it's freaking adorable...

big sign, emphasis on please: Im sorry pls put ur minecraft bed back I can't sleep w/o u and I have to wait entire days for it to turn into morning :(

with what he's built you're sure it's 65% true.

if you do end up forgiving him, few weeks later attempting to schedule another date will only end up in naught.

ghoul666: can we not go there

user: 😐

user: you are testing my patience love

ghoul666: 😓 (he is screeching about the term of endearment part btw KABSJAJSAJA ortho would enter his room very concerned.)

ghoul666: how abt

ghoul666: mimic together? call

user: sighs

user: I'm only agreeing cause I want to spend time with you

queue more screeching from his end that you're completely oblivious to.

the only screeching you're gonna hear though is when you guys do get into call as you play, and it's mainly out of terror when his soul gets sent to the void ascending when the entity pops out of a corner and starts chasing him.

"I GOT THIS. ILL CARRY U THIS IS FINE" *screams again* but really wants to impress you so he pushes through.

unsurprisingly does carry you.

asks to match avatars right after (idia love languange)

vil (frets over you way too much.)

"vil, did you see the chocolate in the freezer?"

"oh, that? I noticed that you've already gone through the ideal number of bars this week so I took it upon myself to make sure you don't go sick on me,"

"I love you but please give it back—"

"I love you too, and no."

disclaimer: he does this for your own good 😜 (average mom excuse.)

looks out for you more than he does for his own dorm residents. everyone is wondering where he ran off to after class, especially since he's the one that scheduled the pomefiore meeting every fridays!

and to think he was the one getting irritated over the more newer first years for being late..

*shows up literally half an hour in*

why you ask? you simply shouldn't have texted him about abandoning your daily walk together through the gardens in favor of catching sleep since you called in sick (you're suspicious if crewel really did go in to check for proof, and not concern.)

vil's really feeling the absolute regret of not checking his phone during classes.. well, he only saw the message which was coincidentally sent like somehow ONE minute after the lecture started and he's only seeing it 59 minutes later.

oh you poor thing!! though the lunch break is short, he has about 5 minutes for a trip to the mirror chamber..

you'd think the 'seen' icon below your message was a weird omen for something you're not sure but it must be doom cause vil is right at the front porch of your crappy dorm. at his own expense?! looking more disheveled than you've seen him before.

if a few stray hairs was disheveled at all. more importantly, he still looked drop dead gorgeous!

you probably looked quite terrible with the blanket draped around your shoulders looking like you just crawled out of your grave, because he looked absolutely mortified at your state.

"oh great sevens.." he looked like he was faint, huffing and fanning himself with his hand. "look at you, why didn't you tell me sooner, darling?"

you blink, swallowing to make your throat less dry but your voice still comes out raspy. "I did, like an hour ago—" without your invitation whatsoever, he steps in. promptly shutting the door behind him (which surprisingly still stands sturdy.)

vil takes a hold of your shoulders before reaching his hands upwards to tilt your face around. "you should have sent earlier," he says. you keep in the comment that you were sleeping during it, and you told him about it during second period so.. "your face is so pale."

you sigh.

"yeah, I just saw. I know, I look hideous right now."

vil frowns at you, stopping to angle your face at him. "don't ever say that. I always find you beautiful even if you are.." he glances at you from face to toe, then back up. "sickly."

"... I feel offended."

"hmph, shush now. let me draw you a bath then I know something that will boost your system."

after much coaxing in his end, you reluctantly take a warm bath in the hopefully hygienic bathroom. true to his word, vil did... concoct something. though it looked pretty the random steam that flew from it was really suspicious.

the residents don't dare to question, except rook of course. who already knew what transpired! :)

epel: 😃 (atleast vil wasn't around.)

"roi du poison~ tell me, tell me! is the trickster well? have you cured them with your love?"

"rook, you have 5 seconds to get out of my face."

rook giggles away.

kalim (thinks money will buy anything, including your forgiveness.)

"here!" there's a suspiciously bright smile on his face as he hands you.. some keys?

you deadpan, jingling it in your hands. it weighs heavy than the average, probably because of the fact that it's literally made of gold. "... kalim what is this?" you emit a sigh, from suspicion and concern.

"a gift!"

"wait why does it say lot 111--"

as you can already, that was an actual, literal house. which you imagine would probably be a lots more grand, and new compared to your old baby ramshackle.

but you do love it despite it's love for falling apart at the most inconvenient of times..

fighting with kalim was rare but it was hard to even argue with him because the notion of disagreements are so bizarre to him that he unintentionally doesn't treat you seriously with your concerns, accidentally downplaying them aaaand now you're upset.

after the ranting to jamil about how you must be busy with a lot, since you haven't even talked to him in the past 2 days. all it took was a side glance to his friend in denial and jamil immediately knew.

"what do you mean they're mad!? D:"

"just.. go apologize, I don't want to get caught up in this."

if his definition of an apology is buying you an entire house...

( ^ it is btw.)

kalim really doesn't mean any harm. he just really wants to sate whatever anger you held for him <- maybe he's overthinking it but it's kalim so he's 99% sure it's his fault! even though it hasn't even been confirmed from your end he'd probably accept it whole heartedly.

he wanted you to talk to him again so badly that he wouldn’t mind showering you with houses... since your living situation doesn't live up to your kindness (sorry ramshackle love u xx)

you know what. he wouldn't even notice he's the reason you're upset at first even though he's been asking around on who put you in that mood. despite himself being the perpetrator but he didn't really know that did he?

the only reason he does is because he assumed you were just because you avoided him like some sort of.. cockroach! (he dislikes those.) and he couldn't take it anymore.

was probably 1 sec away from barging into your dorm which wouldn't take a lot of effort since one ram to the door would probably break it.

bless jamil for jailing all the carpets so kalim doesn't find them.

even if said carpets fling him off when he's riding them.

"kalim, why would you buy a literal house... and you also got a rare address paid--"

"for them! ;D"

"... you do know they'd be more offended by the fact that you'd try to replace that.., ahem. dorm, right?"

"oh... should I buy them a vehicle then?"

you only promise to forgive him once he takes back the keys, and the house entirely...

(grim begged you to keep it, 'house for him apparently.')

azul (keeps trying to offer you discounts thinking it's a good excuse to have you over.)

"I assure you. you'll find no deal better than this."

"I'm not even that hungry for sea food, actually I'm craving some--"

"you're in luck then! ahem, it's 26% off due to a special event for today."

pro tip: keep insisting to eat at other places cause he's gonna keep increasing the discount by 2% until you eventually relent. once, you made him go to the point of 75% off, it's almost hilarious if not for the fact it only worked once.

now he won't go last 50!

ahem. if you look closely you can almost spot tiny cracks accumulating with each denial you respond with, and each increase of his discount. he's grown to be wary about the bullshit 'lucky' promos you just happen to stumble on.

last time you did he practically lost a week's worth of the presumed income he's predicted cause you actually went around and told your first year friends about it... who.. in turn told some, other friends of theirs about it and you could guess.

love must hurt.. and unfortunately it's his wallet wailing.

but azul is not so easily swayed by this! for you have swayed him first! *wink wonk*

but azul has another trick up his sleeve... keeping on roping jade and floyd into it; whom are far too enthusiastic cause finally— something fun to do! someone to bother! not only have you got the most stubborn octopus having frequent suspicious 'deals' but here are his equally suspicious lackeys.

who keeps.. talking about fried octopus..

yeah, you're not sure if preaching about azul’s species is the job they were assigned.

they're fairly easy to point in the right direction anyways. the tweels have always associated you with the word 'fun' so just a little, friendly suggestion from and they were off to their merry way. mortifying every single person you come across with their sudden attachment.

one of their tricks? following you around. and just somehow, every single place you enter is just mysteriously full even though you peered inside and there was like 7 tables empty. what are they hosting? ghosts? spirits?

...

they do look like they've seen some though..

jade rn: "a shame indeed, you must be hungry. why don't we escort you back to monstro lounge?" :)

long story short you can't even reply cause the sleek eel is already guiding you around by the use of his hands on your shoulders. just to make sure you don't stray away from the destination, he says.

"didn't you say that yesterday's promo was like, a one day thing?" you quirk a brow, and you almost fool yourself into thinking he flinched.

azul clears his throat. "well—today is.. the month before you've graced octavinelle with your assistance—"

he praises himself for his quick thinking.

COME ON! it doesn't matter if you're sick of eating stir fried shrimp, or the butter one, or every single dish they serve that includes shrimp! (also do not mention that you ate somewhere else before you just decide to visit his dorm because that establishment just mysteriously got filed a non-legal business report.)

then you've got floyd chasing you around with a fork. which is more terrifying because he's holding it in a notion that would seem like he'd just stab down at you when he catches up with your little goose chase.

it's just.. you're not sure if your stomach could take another bite of the poor food he stabbed into, and is now chasing you around with.

you screech. "JADE PLEASE."

the man shrugs. "it's a free taste."

"AZUL."

"... only on a condition of course."

frankly. it took all the balls he had to actually sputter out the most simplest sentence ever, cause during the time he rehearsed that in front of his mirror it just plagued him with embarrassment but he's getting desperate.

'I'd like to take you out to dinner, somewhere else of course.'

actually, maybe obliterating any possible craving for the food of his lounge just might've been part of his plans to ask you out..?

leona (prevents you from actually being productive via dragging you down to 'nap' every. single. time.)

"I will literally fail if you don't let go of me right now."

"hmph. so what? it's not like failing a grade killed anyone."

"leona just because you've lived through a lot of fails doesn't mean I have to, we're not all rich enough to not finish school."

to which he'd retaliate that all you'd need is to marry him and you'd be set for life.

there is no winning an argument with leona when it comes to his naps. if he states that you're to be next to him as he sleeps, its final. no buts, no retaliations, cause apparently they're all invalid according to him even if you drag him to court.

rhetorically of course, that if its a comical court scene his only statements are; 'well you're wrong', 'who cares', and 'i dont care'. one way or another he's still gonna win you over and now you're fit snugly in his arms, lamenting.

and if crowley chastises you for not doing the errands (via leona's common interference.) the only thing you need to honestly do is to complain to leona about it and suddenly crowley has the kindness to forgive you for your 'laziness' then says something about enjoying your time together?

leona's work no doubt.

you suppose he does has its perks. even if most of it isn't exactly ideal.

if you're being smart then you should give him an ultimatum or something, or bribe him. but... that really has no guarantee to work either cause you're ending up defeated, or just defeated and flustered since he's somehow unconsciously flirty.

at the end of the day you can't really hate him cause the following day you find out he sent an already sleep deprived ruggie to do your work. 'so you can shut your fussing up and let me enjoy you.' he says, and you quote.

it goes something like;

"if i finish my work i'll stick by you all day."

a stready flow of confidence keeps your voice firm as you glower down at the blank-faced leona sat on the grass. he merely tilts his head, raising a brow at you and seemingly pondering from the way his eyes fly to the sky.

you'd think that maybe your plan actually worked but he merely grunts and flops backwards, holding the back of his head with his palms as he laid. and! he ignores you.

...this little greedy man... "why should i care whether or not you finish your work?" he huffs, like the evil, arrogant spawn he is but you can't really defend yourself cause said evil spawn bewitched you so much that you actually still like him.

"because you care about me?"

"...fine," he scowls, releasing a breath you'd mistake for irritation. "then, do you really think i need you to finish your work when i can just keep you right here?"

you sulk. "i'll do anything you want?"

he deadpans as if you said something stupid. "i don't need you to anything else but sit still and be pretty."

...

see what i mean about him eventually winning you over? yeah.

next morning there's a rebellion in savanaclaw about overworked residents and ruggie is the head of them.

"he said that he doesn't need you today." <- ruggie, steering you away.

"really?" <- you, confused

riddle (overthinks TOO HARD.)

“I'm just a little busy.”

“I understand,” riddle says.

“I'm just a little busy.” he understands.

“a little busy.” its just… a small thought…

“I'm just busy.” his mind is a hazard at this point.

for someone as supposedly maintained as riddle—you'd think his mind is as composed as it is organized. like the pens you'd perfectly align in correlation to order of colors, or the neat pile of clothing folded neatly, tucked in some corner in your closet that is farther in since it's used less.

that's just how he is, or at least seems to be. a bundle of organized thoughts, every thought connected to another. a mind too clean to be going on haywire (when he isn't in a particular mood, that is.)

you're just busy. he thinks. you said it yourself, with that agonizingly nice smile that must be sprinkled with some kind of spell from the way it just eradicated all the protests in his throat upon sight. he isn't one to question it, he wants to help but not if you don't ask.

he can only stare with resigned acceptance at your insomnia induced eyes.

but when the curtain of darkness befalls night raven college, even in the comfort of heartslabyul is he still thinking about that thought–and he can’t help but wonder; why exactly are you busy? its not that he’s suddenly hyper aware of your lack of presence since you’ve been attached to the hip the previous week and now you’re just.

…busy…

riddle likes to think of himself as a level-headed, private person. like the boy he raised himself to be and therefore proud of. but its way past 10AM. which is usually the time he sleeps, and let me tell you that he’s never once broke the cycle for years. yet here he is, a frown of frustration present on his face as he wills his mind to sleep.

somehow closing his eyes felt forced, he immediately snapped them open once his mind decides to conjure an image of you even in the darkness his lids offers.

“THIS IS ABSURD.”

and the yell promptly woke up the entire dorm from the ferocity of his scream. (and of course gave them the flashback of their year.)

that night was one of the worst he’s ever had because he woke up with red rimmed eyes and a pounding headache that ensured his bad mood the rest of the day.

everyone noted to steer clear.

and he unknowingly steered clear of yours since you were ‘busy.’

“why are you sulking?” a voice queried, spoken as though they were eating something as they asked. a reprimand rises in his throat, but it all just dies down once his sharp eyes settle on you, slipping into the seat in front of him then raising a brow and the traces of irritation practically evaporates from his eyes.

he feels the need to cough–so he does. “i’m– i’m not.” he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes but still sneaking in glances, something he notes is that you’re still looking everytime he does. (and boring an unimpressed face because he knows you don’t believe him at all.)

guilt rises in his mind, because he feels a slither of annoyance and its the presence of pettiness that bothers him. riddle knows you’re not at fault, just his mind at convincing that you just somehow decided in the span of a day that you might not like him anymore–so he can’t help the bite.

“why are you here?” a glance not intended to look mean.

“i thought you were busy.” he adds.

your brows raise, he spots your teeth holding your lips back from showing your grin and he feels warm. “what?” he hisses defensively, despite you not even having replied to him yet.

he leans backwards, straightening up in his seat when your chin leans forward, resting on your intertwined fingers. you flash him a smile.

“mr. rosehearts, are you perhaps… sulking because i’m busy?”

“no!”

silence.

“no.” he repeats, weaker.

“well,” you continue, beaming. “i heard from ace that you were awake the entire night, and that you kept him awake too. are you alright?”

he sputters. “it wasn’t because of you!”

you snort. “i didn’t even say anything about me.”

so you incline to following riddle around, poking fun at him and still trailing after the seemingly enraged red head because despite his angry protests, demanding you to go away because you’re annoying he keeps glancing back to see if you’ll follow,

so cute…….

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moon-fics · 2 months ago

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hi hi hello apologies if u get a whole lotta notifs from me i’M OBSESESSASSEEDDD WITH YOUR WORK UGH SO SO GOOD got me giggling spending all-nighters readig your fics😭 saw that ur requests are open and what do u think of our sweet sweet bob reynolds and a flirty + really outgoing/extroverted reader? like life of the party bc dawg i am SOOO in love with shy boys as an extrovert makes my heart SOAR ugh love you!!!!!

PLEASE NOT THE ALL-NIGHTERS!!!! I never thought I'd have that honor!! I will write this with all my power!!

You don't know how Valentina managed to get everyone to agree to this. Truly, you cannot fathom what she had to pull to get the New Marvels to attend a gala. Yet, here you are in a gown talking to public officials and important people.

It's not that you mind it, because you're glad to be socializing with people outside the team. It's nice to meet people and not have them know about your shame room or your backstory. It's even better when there's free food involved as well.

You're talking to a group of people who you can't remember the names of, but you know one of them is a journalist. You do your best to instill confidence in them about the team and to keep their hopes up.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Bob wearing a suit with his hair greased back. He looks extremely uncomfortable, and you're so glad he's been working on himself. Otherwise, this place would be a mess. However, he still has his limits and you're sure he's reaching it.

You excuse yourself and approach him. He's standing alone because as far as anyone here knows, he's not officially apart of the team.

"You doing ok, Bob?" You ask while stepping in front of him. He gives a shy smile while nodding his head awkwardly.

"Yeah, I just don't enjoy crowds." He answers. There's still a smile on his face even as he pulls at the collar of his jacket.

"Ok, well, you look like a wet cat. So, let's just fix some things," You say. You don't let him protest before you run your hand through his hair. You shake it out until it's no longer streaked back. Instead, it's parted in the middle again, just as it should be. "There we go," You hum.

"D-does it look better?" He asks with uncertainty. His cheeks are a light tint of pink that only you'd notice. It's adorable to see him like this, and you wish you had a camera. "I don't want to get anyone in trouble for looking bad."

"No one is going to get in trouble for how you look. That would be insane, and I'd honestly stomp on anyone's toes if they mentioned it." You assure him. He still looks like he's trying to hide a grimace. You quickly realize it's the coat that's causing the issue. It's tight around his body, and you know he prefers baggy clothes. "I'll take your coat," You suggest.

"What? No, you'd just be holding it the entire night." He says. You give him no room to argue and are already pulling it off his shoulders. The white shirt underneath is enough to keep his appearance. "S-stop!" He insists while trying to pull the coat back on.

"Listen, if it bothers you that much, I'll just wear it!" You huff.

"Wear it? Won't that look weird?" He asks. He aids you in pulling off the coat and lets you take it. You wrap it around your shoulders, and the warm material feels nice on your skin. He stares at you for a few seconds with his lips slightly parted. His eyes roam over you as if taking in your outfit for the first time.

"Got something to say?" You laugh. He snaps his eyes back to your face and gives a half smile. He's adorable, and you cannot stand it.

"N-no, you just look really nice," He mumbles while rubbing his nose with his sleeve nervously. He glances away from you and looks around the crowd. "Do you mind staying with me? I don't like being alone at functions." His voice is soft. His hands fidget with his sleeves, and he squints his eyes.

"Yeah, I'll stay," You agree. You move to stand next to him and get a glimpse of what he sees. As much as you like talking to people, you wish there was more to do. It's fancy, and the music playing sounds like something you'd hear on an elevator. You'd much prefer some more upbeat songs or at least a ball pit. "You look good, too." You comment.

He looks at you, and there's a twinkle in his eyes. "Uh, thanks. I didn't really know how to dress. I had borrowed it from Bucky," He admits quickly. You're surprised by that because the suit should be bigger on him, not smaller. "It's really old." He clarifies when he sees your confused expression.

"Well, next time we'll just stay home." You suggest. "Besides, I'm a little jealous other people get to see you in a suit," You tease.

He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. "Y-you are?" He wants confirmation that you aren't making fun of him.

"Oh yeah. I was practically drooling over you when you exited your room," You giggle. He catches on that you're flirting with him and tries his best to play along. Even while his heart is beating way faster than it should.

"Well, I'll, uh, have to take you as my date to one of these sometime," He tries to flirt back. He's certain he's not very good at it, but at least he's trying. "Unless that's not something you want to do. I could totally just wear a suit around the tower more often," He begins rambling.

You slide your hand into his and curl your fingers between his. "Or, you could just ask me out on a regular date," You suggest.

He nods and lets out a chuckle. "I could do that," He shrugs. There’s a moment of silence where you wait for him to ask. Instead, he keeps staring at you with a goofy smile. As if you just hung to stars.

“Are you going to or is this like a waiting situation?” You ask. His eyes widen and he covers her mouth with his free hand. He clearly thought that was him asking you out.

“No, no yeah! I just- I didn’t know if now was a good time or if that meant we were going to go on a date,” He scrambles over his words. “Would y-you like to go on a date… with me?” He asks.

“No, I think you took too long. You’re going to have to wait a week or two,” You tease. You can’t help the sly smile that spreads across your lips. He looks helpless at your statement and it’s almost too much to handle. “Yes, I’ll go out with you,” You confirm.

He lets out a sigh of relief and his body loses any tenseness. “I genuinely thought you were going to make me wait,” He laughs nervously. “I would have but I really wanted to do it sooner than later.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to wait that long either,” You nudge him playfully.

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iqxatlantic · 4 months ago

Text

" POUND, POUND, POUND TOWN ! "

ft. shidou ryusei . afab! reader . reader was off alcohol and then shidou pulled up smh . smut . dark content . non/dub-con (if ur uncomfortable pls click off!) . alcohol usage . shidous a freak its shidou... . HE'S HUNG . frat party yeahhhh . college/uni au! . they freak each other in order to get over someone else . cursing wowza . cunnilingus ? . unreliable narrator ...

cw: non/dub-con (?) bc they were drunk. (damn both drunk thats acc crazy) alcohol is constantly mentioned within this fic

wc: 1.3k

synopsis : getting drunk with your annoying classmate (also school whore) ended up into an intimate situation..!

the blaring, colourful bright lights was driving you absolutely insane. your classmates annoying ass voice wouldn't help your ragin' headache calm down —i'll tell ya that much.

"c'mon sugar! just give alcohol a second chance," shidou smirked. waving the glasses in your face to taunt you. "fuck off, ryu. don't push it. jus' cause we made out doesn't mean i'm getting back into that shit." you grumbled.

"we're at a party, c'mon... give it another chance yeaa?" he continued to press you. wanting him to shut the fuck up you finally agreed. "fine just one bottle." you rolled your eyes.

you swore you saw his eyes sparkle when you finally agreed. "hell yeah, [name]. i knew you weren't borin' like that!" he grinned mischievously as he passed you two bottles.

you cautiously popped open the bottle cap of the tequila. hesitantly placing your lips on the bottle and you gave it a quick chug. you peeled your lips off the bottle as liquor as you wiped your mouth.

"off that tequila again hm, mamacita?" he laughed, teasingly. you felt your body fill with disgust. oh you absolutely hated this man's guts. you passed the bottle to him. he took a longer chug. letting out a content sigh.

"don't cha feel all your stress being relieved?" shidou smiled. you didn't reply, just taking another gulp. the bottle was passed between the both of you until it was empty.

shidou stuck out his tongue trying to get the last drop (Freaky ahh.) "ya down for more?" he asked. you were a little tipsy so you just agreed.

the both of you were wasted by then. expecting a deep conversation with shidou cause he's drunk? hell nah! he's fuckin' making out with you for the second time! a lil more passionate however...

he reeked and tasted like alcohol, a nostalgic sense you hated so much. that didn't stop you, however. the both of you kept going, so damn messy...

it felt euphoric, his MOUTH was euphoric. you swore no man could do it better than your ex (who also made u drink girl what r u on..) here you are. "ryu.." you gasped as you pushed him slightly.

oh this was wrong, so so so SO wrong... you vowed to yourself there would be no one who'd ever have you so vulnerable. yet, here you are. the pink eyed man wasted no time painting your collar bone with his saliva. how messy.

"y'know you're real cute, [name]." shidou breathed against your sensitive skin. "real fuckin' cute." oh jeez... what would your friends say when they catch you with one of the whores in the whole university..?

"quit thinkin' 'bout what ya friends' gotta say, think about the moment, think 'bout me." he mumbled almost desperately, to then suck on your skin. this man? desperate? no way...

biting, sucking, you name it, this guy'll do it. "y'know [name], i have a huge... huge crush on you." shidou babbled (where'd your pride go brah.) "i always wanted to do this."

being under the influence of alcohol, you were too drunk to realize what was going on LMFAO. his words went from one ear to another. your body was red and heated, cooling down a bit as he stripped you.

"ooh hell yeah!" he let out an excited whine. he unbuckled his pants and slipped it down with haste. "y'know a bitch like you, you're hella hot, [name]." shidou smirked. if it wasn't cause you felt like jelly, you would've BITCHSLAPPED him. (no bc who tf says that)

despite being everything but a gentleman, shidou did the one thing the guys you've had a relationship with or the guys you've slept around with didn't. asking you if he could put it in LMFAOO.

sliding your panties to the side, "[name], gonna put it in. prepare yourself." he breathed. due to your blurry vision, you didn't know how big he was. that is, until you felt something foreign stretching your opening. oh dear...

"r-ryusei!" you'd whine out. "it's jus' the tip, babe. can't take it? deal with it." shidou grinned, pushing himself in. in a way, shidou wasn't an asshole. well not yet. he hadn't forcefully put his whole length in you. like every other guy... (oh girl, if any guy does that RUN?!)

"damn, you're taking me so well." he mumbled, shocked. "for a whore like you i didn't expect you to be this tight n grippy." oh my days this man is a NASTY FREAK.

the audacity to call you a whore.?! "tough comin' from a man who acts like he's a bitch in heat every morning. whole world hears your sexual fantasies." you'd retort.

shidou frowned, "ahh, sugar don' be like that!" and with that a sudden thrust. nevermind! he's the same as every guy. each thrust had you ECSTATIC. it felt like doing weed all over again.

just the smell isn't the disgusting burning of marijuana, it was the smell of sweat and sex (eeyuck?!) shidou felt himself slowly reaching hish high. he swiftly pulled out and pulled your panties off.

he placed his tip onto your panties and began pumping. sooner or later, yeah no who am i kidding, he busted the moment his tip touched your panties. he came so damn much, "i feel like a virgin all over again! t' think i jack it everyday..."

you looked at him shook. "everyday and still that much nut?!" you'd mumbled. that is until you felt a quickly cooling sensation on your precious pussy. no fucking way this man just slid your panties back on, WITH HIS NUT.?!

shidou pressed his fingers against your opening, pushing his semen in. (what in the kinky shit man.!) "hey, doll. put this on." shidou whispered as he gave you his blazer. "guess you're not that bad as a guy after all huh? rated top-3 worst gentlemen of the scho-" you were cut off as you realized why. he did NOT want anyone else's eyes on you (honestly, mood af)

your vision began to blur. maybe you were too intoxicated that you gosh darn passed out immediately after! your memory a straight up fog. just to wake up to shidou lapping away at your pussy and an unfamiliar dorm.

"ryusei what the heee-oh god!" you yelped as his mouth went crazy on your labia. this man is a damned animal. at this point, he was DEVOURING your vulva.

you were somewhat sober, pulling at his hair. (woah un-gelled shidou hair hawk yeah!) "ryusei you gotta stop!" you babbled. "please, my friends are gona-!" your babbles were quickly changed to moans as he went ballistic on your sweet pussy.

"ryusei please! please! stop!" you sobbed. damn, never in your life did you have a man eat you out THIS good you're in tears! the moment he prodded his finger in you lost it.

bucking your hips forward, you came undone. shidou being the little freak he is lapped away so rapidly the moment your juices came out LOL. he pulled away, licking his lips.

your cunt was so soaked, messy as well :( messy with his saliva and your juices. shidou had his shit eating grin. "best pussy i've ever tasted." he smirked.

what a turn off... you glared at him. "heeeey, can't ya at least be a little nicer? i'm the only one whose made you feel this good." shidou continued, his pride skyrocketing. he knew he was right.

"can we do this more?" he asked, disgustingly sweet. "yeah. yeah we can." you replied, unironically enjoying it LMFAOO (we got two attractive whores on staaack)

"by the way whole time i was just tipsy, not drunk. i knew what i was doing." shidou chuckled, "i knew you'd agree to do this more."

you're perfect [name]. why couldn't he push himself to say it? big fat ego having ass. his cock's huge too, FUCKKKK. you both couldn't understand, was this to get over someone? or did you actually enjoy each others company... yikes. seeing him in class the next day was something.

— ©iqxatlantic / isaisliterallyhim, 2025

tags ! : @twijaxx, @kyvkc

a/n: HI. so i've been working on this for unironically so long and its still doodoo but you know what! who really cares!! i had lots of fun writing this LMFAOO i LVOE shidou i'm shidou, he's me frfr we're both freaksters :3 i desperately need a partner omg ;-; idk how people are pulling but i fear i #needthat. anyways ilygs mwa mwa dont have sex when you;re drunk ofc actually don't even drink bc drinking sucks </3 also don't drink if like your tolerence is low omg i was gonna add in drugs because i struggled w that at one point but i forgot the plot ABGAIN midway writing (this took me 2 weeks to get out LMFAO) i have more drafts that are abt to come i swearr T_T

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yan-randomfandom · 7 months ago

Note

Hii! Could I request a yan! Jinx with a darling who is on hunger strike? (Bacically, darling got kidnapped and so she decided to stop eating till she gets freed...is that even a word?)

Anyways, ty 4 reading my request and I would be really happy if you were to fuffil it <3

Make sure u drink enough water!

Yandere!Jinx x GN!Starving!Reader

a/n: thank you for your kind words anon! 😺 i just realized how much energy i gave mc here omg 😭🙏

tw; starvation, kidnapped MC ermm

💧 ;

Stubbornness is something both you and Jinx share. It's built into your very core. She knows this, and yet, here we are.

You're tied to a chair, looking away from her with a deep frown on your face—unwilling to eat.

"My sweetest," Jinx groans, dragging out her words. "Darling, baby, angel..." She places her hands on the back of your chair, her breath brushing the tip of your nose—"beloved."

...

You roll your eyes. "It stinks."

With an offended gasp, she recoils from you, her eye twitching. "I— You— Come on! At least I had dinner, but you? You haven't eaten anything for days!"

As if the Gods have a sense of humor, your stomach lets out a loud, drawn-out rumble. It goes on for a few moments... like her hideout wasn't quiet enough already. You have half the heart to glance at Jinx, who's watching you with an unimpressed expression.

Against your better judgment, and despite the deadly stomachache, you don't say anything.

Jinx pushes the bowl of food in front of you. "...Your, uh, stomach's hungry. Please. I just want you to eat—"

"I want you to let me go," you snap, glaring at her. You emphasize your point by rattling the chair with your frail limbs in frustration. "It doesn't help that you tied my arms and legs up. Honestly."

She returns your look, almost clueless. "It didn't have to be that way! You kept trying to escape!"

"I wonder why!!"

An annoyed groan. You can't even tell if it was from you, or her. Maybe both.

...

"...I told you I can't," she mutters softly. Not when she started a war.

You scoff and turn away. "Not that you can't. You won't."

Jinx does not reply.

Then, she chuckles. "Still amazin'. All this energy, even in starvation."

...

You press your lips together. Truth be told, you're barely holding it together. You're simply not giving up. Even if it's out of spite. Especially.

She starts walking. The sound of her booted footsteps grows fainter and fainter until, finally—the exit closes.

Jinx left you.

Nothing else accompanies you but the quiet humming and faint lights in her hideout.

Your body seizes the chance to collapse, eyes closing in one blink.

...

The next time you wake up, you grudgingly rub your eyes. A yawn escapes you.

You stretch your body. Your joints pop, relief spreading all across—

Wait.

You sit up from the softest surface you've ever been on in a while. It takes a moment to clear your vision, but once it does, you fall in disbelief.

Lifting your hand, you eye your wrists suspiciously. The patterns of the rope is still visible. But faint. It must have been a while since they were removed.

The chair you've been stuck in for days is gone. Your limbs are untied, finally fucking free from the numbness. A small fan offers a refreshing breeze next to you.

Your heart starts racing.

A whiff of your favorite scent. You perk up.

There's a glass of water filled with ice on the table. Beside it, an irresistible array of food. All your favorite types.

You don't even think twice.

either u try to escape or eat the food—your choice. do both tho cuz u might idk die

#yandere #yandere arcane #yandere arcane x reader #yandere jinx x reader #jinx x reader #arcane imagines #yandere league of legends

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crepezinhos · 1 month ago

Note

hey, so i did reath BOTH of those before i requested these hehe they were really good omggg (highkey fulfilled my desires….)

idk.. im just REALLY craving a yanderer scara bc i jst love the way u write him,, when u write one ill be super happy like biting the edge of the desk happy, so pleek PLEASE keep this in the back of ur mind i beg of

Number 1 Fan

(REQUEST #14) POV: After the failed dinner with your family, things in your life started to suddenly feel eerier than usual. Scaramouche felt extremely awkward to talk to and even your secret lifestyle seems to have changed with the arrival of a new premium viewer called ‘Balladeer’.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a NSFW Yandere work

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains: Sex work, masturbation, dirty talk, threats and lots of insults

— Stalker!Yandere!Scaramouche x SexWorker!Reader

— AU is: Modern

— Reading of previous part is advised

Makeup? Ready.

Toys? Ready.

Lingerie? Ready.

Ok, here we go.

Another day, another livestream.

Three, two, one, and...

Click

The little camera at the top of your computer brightened in red, signaling it was turned on. Then you breathed in and out as you begun to wait for viewers to join before you could start today's performance. Since most of your watchers were already aware of the time you start your livestreams, quickly, the viewer numbers popped from 0 to 17, to 39, and so on...

You like to wait until you reached 100 at minimum before beginning to say ‘Hi’ to them, and 500 to begin the actual performance. Thankfully, reaching 100 viewers was a matter of seconds now.

"Good night, sweeties!" You cutely spoke to your computer’s screen, welcoming all of them warmly as you watched many messages in the chat begin to pop up.

Iloveasianhotties334: You look hot

garrykafka0275: Show your boobs

11037kuwata: Can I request something?

As always, the messages made you feel a bit disgusted and disappointed at humanity, but you held back your aggressiveness and just kept smiling at them.

“‘Can I request something?' Not yet! I'm still going to wait a few minutes..." You answered to ‘11037kuwata' while drinking a quick sip of coffee from the cup you left laying by your computer.

kittylover123456: Beautiful 😻

theballadeer6: Hi

11037kuwata: When are we starting?

lolisonmydee: r u cosplaying

"I'm not cosplaying, but you can pretend I am!" You answered with honesty while winking at him, ignoring the other comments above that last question.

You didn't even realize you had already reached 323 viewers while reading those initial messages.

"Oh, wow! We reached 300 viewers in less than 2 minutes!" You clapped your palms together gently, trying to act excited but cute at the same time.

Men absolutely love women who act cute. No matter what's their type, if they act cute, they'll love it.

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Hello, my queen! 😍

lolisonmydee: You should cosplay tho

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Looking absolutely gorgeous tonight 🤤

The orange username caught your eye.

Ah, yes... 'I love Y/N's lives’… Probably the only man in the chat that restores your faith in the men using this site. You don’t know how he looks behind the computer screen, but he’s unrealistically kind and considerate to you.

"Oh, hello there! Thank you for the compliments!" You waved at the screen, trying to communicate with him. "Also, what characters would you recommend me to cosplay as... 'Lolis on my dee'?" You answered to the guy's message, struggling a little bit with his username, although you'd probably never cosplay in your lives anyway.

11037kuwata: Mikan Tsumiki

(👑) ilovey/nslives: l'd say Jessica Rabbit

theballadeer6: You don't need to cosplay

theballadeer6: You look beautiful like this

lolisonmydee: Kana from Dragon Maid or any lolis

Since you didn't get any of references rather than Jessica Rabbit, the only message that caught your eye were from this 'Balladeer' guy.

"You think this is enough, Balladeer?" You jokingly leaned upwards and squeezed your boobs together in a teasing way, cackling in your own afterwards since you didn’t take yourself seriously.

theballadeer6: Absolutely

user38291646: Do that again but with a dildo between them

"Thank you! I'll even start earlier because of that!" You winked at the screen and got up with your laptop in hands, placing it down in the floor.

You then walked back to your table and grabbed some materials on top of it before going back and kneeling down at the floor, angling the screen of your computer to read what happened in the chat meanwhile. Some emoji particles were already beginning to pop in the corner of the screen, meaning that people were interacting.

theballadeer6: You're welcome

cr7thegoat: put that dildo in that beautiful pussy of yours

(👑) ilovey/nslives: So kind!!

vladmirputin2028: сними свою одежду

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Am I late?

"Nope! Not at all, Mr. Daddy!" You shrugged your shoulders while beginning to undo the hooks of your bra and let it slowly slide away from your body.

You got very lucky this time because that move was executed perfect, which made the grin your face grow a few inches. To see if you’d really been successful, you decided to take another peek at the chat in the corner of your screen, wanting to see everyone’s reaction.

doinggodswork: Repent for your sins. ✝️✝️✝️✝️

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Woooohooooo! 😍

user10297373: 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

user38291646: Get fully naked already

lolisonmydee: dayum

Aside from the annoying unrequested preacher, you smiled at the other compliments you received. At the same time they made you a bit happy, deep down it still made you feel dirty to be doing this kind of work.

“‘Repent for your sins’? Sins? What sins?” You joked with the preacher, trying to gain your chat’s support to get him out of the live. “If anything, the only one sinning here is you. What is God’s messenger himself doing in this site? Watching this kind of livestream? How sinful of you…” You crossed your arms together, watching how the chat immediately turned aggressive towards him.

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Yeah!!!

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Shame on you! 🍅🍅🍅

theballadeer6: gtfo no one cares about god

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Just ignore them baby

You didn’t even know if you could call these guys that watch you human beings or living puppets. They quite literally do whatever you tell them to do as long as they get to see you naked. But at the same time you don’t have a lot of power over them either. If you ever decide you won’t be streaming anymore, none of them would ever keep supporting you. They are your providers, not yourself.

“Thank you, sweeties… I think I’ll give you guys an extra for helping me out.” You launched closer to your computer, wanting to get rid of the annoyance in the chat already.

doinggodswork: CORINTHIANS 12:21: I am afraid that when I come again my God will humble me before you, and I will be grieved over many who have sinned earlier and have not repented of the impurity, sexual sin and debauchery in which they have indulged.

theballadeer6: sthu bro

And… banned!

Now this guy won’t ever disrupt your lives ever again unless you choose to pity him.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, sweeties!” You scratched the back of your neck, trying to act cute again to regain their interest in you and today’s show.

(👑) ilovey/nslives: So annoying…

theballadeer6: hope he dies

user38291646: Start

This unnamed user was also a bit annoying with his impatience and rudeness, but at least you’d rather read that than some religious guy spilling nonsense just to degrade you.

“Ok.. Shall we..?” You crawled backwards towards your spot, positioning your whole body in front of the camera again while opening your arms, trying to invite and embrace all men in the chat indirectly.

You couldn’t read the chat anymore, though, meaning you’d have to guess that the chat was ready for your show.

“Alright then!” You said after a few seconds in silence, just watching new messages from new people pop in the chat faster and faster the more nudity you showed to them.

You stood up, slowly taking off your panties in a way that would certainly brick up some men if they were not hard already. Then you looked at the side and grabbed the dildo sitting in the floor, positioning it under you.

“Time to breed this pussy again…” You talked dirty to yourself, trying to replicate what they probably would want to say to you since they weren’t there in your room to do it right to your face.

And with the assistance of your hand opening your labia, you finally slid the dildo inside you, the plastic fitting around your tightness easily.

You were quick to start hopping on it since you were used to the feeling of fucking dick-like objects inside you. Both your hands were holding you back from the floor behind you so you could expose yourself erotically the most you could while being comfortable.

“Oh, it feels so good…” You moaned to yourself while pretending you were sitting the best dick in your life.

But unfortunately, your role-play was shortly cut by a sudden notification coming from your computer that you immediately recognized. The donation notification.

“User ‘@mrdaddy900030’ donated 25$!”

The artificial voice spoke out and paused for a moment, the same way you did.

“Baby, it would be a crime for you to do this like that… wasting the beautiful view we could have of your ass… I’d like to request you to turn around.”

The artificial voice spoke again, and you giggled at the message.

“Thank you for the 25 dollars, Daddy! Your wish is my command!” You smiled to the camera excitedly, using both your hands to do the peace sign before abruptly turning around, not wanting to make those precious 25 dollars feel like a waste in the slightest.

The rules of your donations were simple:

5 dollars to set your vibrator to a medium strength for 3 minutes, 10 dollars to set it the highest strength for 3 minutes too to influence the buyers to keep buying that asset over and over, 15 or above to send you a message along a vibrator command, 25 dollars to make you do something such as changing a position, taking off a layer of clothing or the camera angle and 50 dollars to command you to do whatever they wish to see you do.

Yes, you might be a little greedy with your prices and conditions, but it works. Don’t fix what’s not broken.

You were quick to unpause your hopping, beginning to moan in a high pitch to make yourself sound as good as possible to them. You also chose to singularly move your ass and legs instead of your full body, making it the most attractive thing of the screen they could see. You were also occasionally grinding on the dildo and swaying your hips to make it extra seductive, perfectly recreating the reverse cowgirl position.

And that’s how you’d continue acting for the next minutes until you either orgasmed or someone donated enough for you change your position under their command.

It’s hilarious, really.

She has no idea.

I can’t really blame her, I chose an unrecognizable name on purpose so she’ll never know one of her work colleagues is watching these special livestreams of hers, and that’s funny.

But now there is nothing she can do about it. I already know enough. I know how you look naked, how you moan, how you talk dirty, how your pussy stretches at the presence of a cock inside it, even if it’s not mine.

You l should be glad I don’t feel like using this little secret of yours for my advantage. Really glad.

The only advantage I’ll take from this is actually sitting back and watch these lives as much as I desire to. In fact, I can even command her to do whatever I want if I give her some money. How greedy of you, Y/N… I thought you were the kindest woman in the world but deep down you’re a leech for porn addicts… I don’t know whether I should or should not feel glad that I’m not your victim. But I won’t interfere much anyway. The less I interact with her, the less she is aware of met presence in this chat.

So that’s exactly what I do. I slowly leaned back against my chair, stretching my arms in the way and relaxing them on chair’s arms right after, eyes never leaving the screen.

You look so beautiful tonight, Y/N… If only that stupid McDonalds didn’t force us to wear those stupid hair caps so I could see this mesmerizing hair of yours every night… At least I’m glad I get to see it when you most work on it…

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Mamma Mia! 😍

user38291646: 💦💦💦

harbinger2: Hottie 🔥🔥🔥🔥

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Keep doing that for us! 🥰

funnyjokesguy: You’re as hot as fire!!

funnyjokesguy: Get it?

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Waaaaa~~ I feel blessed!!!

vladmirputin2028: Я эякулирую

Oh. My. Goodness.

Who the fuck is this guy and why the fuck does he talk like he’s a 16 year-old anime chick? Does he not realize he sounds cringe as fuck?

This must be the mother fucker who keeps stalking Y/N’s Instagram DMs. He can’t be genuinely serious with the way he types… This must be a cute facade he puts on so that Y/N can build trust with him… Too bad he’s horrible at it… and that he won’t ever beat my relationship with her.

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Shitttt I want to cum on you so bad

(👑) ilovey/nslives: If you keep riding it like that I’m gonna cum too soon!!! 😩😩

cr7thegoat: what happens if I donate you 100 dollars?

cr7thegoat: do you do this irl too?

(👑) ladyguujiyae: How late am I gentlemen?

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Later than me as expected 😎

winnerslovewinning: use your fingersssss

This guy surely knows how to ruin a party…

You know what? Sometimes bullying is the only way to fix people.

theballadeer6: bro

theballadeer6: can u sthu

theballadeer6: who tf types like that in the big 2025

(👑) ilovey/nslives: ?

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Oop-

theballadeer6: “L-Later than me as expected! Heh, these fake fans…” 🤓🤓🤓

(👑) ilovey/nslives: ???

(👑) ilovey/nslives: What’s wrong with the way I type? I’m just being kind to Y/N…

theballadeer6: everything???

(👑) ilovey/nslives: What’s everything? 😂

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Who even are you?

theballadeer6: just listen to yourself and you’ll know exactly what im talking about 💀

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Okay, tourist…

Tourist? Me?

Oh, this guy also zero notion of who I am, right?

If I’m a tourist, than he’s a random cockroach.

theballadeer6: tourist?

theballadeer6: u calling me a tourist?

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Yeah

(👑) ilovey/nslives: What’s wrong? Did I annoy you? 🥺

Annoy me? This loser really thinks he is annoying me by typing like this? The only thing he’s annoying is his mother who has to force herself to accept her middle-aged son living in her basement all day because he can’t fucking afford to live alone.

theballadeer6: no

theballadeer6: u r the annoying everyone here

theballadeer6: u r ruining a mood

harbinger2: I gotta agree I can’t beat my meat properly here

cr7thegoat: yup

(👑) ladyguujiyae: One man against the world…

Yeah, this guy is almost done for. Because, as always, I’m right.

(👑) ilovey/nslives: I really wish I would care about what you guys have to say

(👑) ilovey/nslives: But then I remembered that Y/N would rather choose a premium fan like me over 5 of you randoms that can’t afford to pay 20 dollars monthly 🤷‍♀️

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Fake fans 😂

theballadeer6: fake fan?

theballadeer6: u calling me a fake fan?

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Begone, tourists!

theballadeer6: im y/n’s number 1 fan buddy

garrykafka0275: You. Look beautiful..

angelofdawn: Can y’all sthu

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Of course I’m calling you a fake fan

(👑) ilovey/nslives: After all, you ARE one 🫵😂

theballadeer6: who do u think u are? 💀

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Y/N’s ACTUAL number 1 fan, duh

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Cuz if you really were all that, why don’t you have premium, hmmmm?

theballadeer6: that ain’t any of your business

(👑) ilovey/nslives: So you really are a tourist 🫵😂

theballadeer6: shut the fuck up

theballadeer6: u know nothing about me

(👑) ilovey/nslives: I surely know you are a tourist

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Can you two kids stop?

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Clock it!

theballadeer6: oh yeah?

theballadeer6: u really think you are all that?

theballadeer6: lemme show you smth really fun

(👑) ilovey/nslives: T-O-U-R-I-S-T

(👑) ladyguujiyae: And he went off…

lolisonmydee: finally bruh

lolisonmydee: y’all annoying asf

(👑) mrdaddy900030: This generation…

Jesus, vibrators really lost their charm to you, haven’t they? Thank God you were forced to turn backwards because this would be extra boring if you’d have to force yourself to express a pleasure you weren’t feeling. At least, in the position you were, all you had to do was open your mouth to occasionally moan or talk dirty to yourself, then you could just zone out.

Maybe this demotivation is affecting your performance… All donations your computer alerted you about yet were about were all the cheaper ones of 5 to 10 dollars. Maybe you should really just start overacting if that’ll get new people to buy your products or to convince your consumers like Mr. Daddy to buy more things aga—

“(Ding, ding, ding!) User ‘theballadeer6’ has become a premium viewer of the channel!”

Your head abruptly turned to the computer as soon as you heard those dings. When you saw the colorful announcement popping up in the screen and shining with multiple particles, especially crown emojis, your eyes shone in happiness.

“Aaaah! Thank you so much, Balladeer!” You said while turning around to make cute gestures such as putting your palms together and slightly clapping your fingers repeatedly. “I hope you have a lot of fun with my premium content and that you stay tuned for more!” You purposefully made your voice sound cuter than usual while saying that.

After all, you have to make good impressions to keep these men paying you monthly. But the show couldn’t stop, so you spun around your spot again and faced the same white wall you previously were. You breathed in and out. You only have about an hour left to perform… You can do it.

(👑) theballadeer6: AM I A FAKE FAN NOW HUH????

(👑) theballadeer6: WHERE R U

(👑) theballadeer6: FUCKING PUSSY

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Oh lord here we go…

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Oh wow you did the bare minimum…

winnerslovewinning: Men ☕️

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Real

(👑) ladyguujiyae: I feel like a female bull watching two male bulls fighting for me rn

(👑) theballadeer6: BARE MINIMUM?

(👑) theballadeer6: YOU’RE THE ONE DOING THE BARE MINIMUM

(👑) theballadeer6: R U FUCKING MENTAL??

lolisonmydee: y’all should just kys

winnerslovewinning: They should kiss

justalittleponyboy: I can’t believe I’m forcing myself to come here rn but

justalittleponyboy: For fuck’s sake just take it to DMs

justalittleponyboy: We all just want to watch some porn

justalittleponyboy: So like

justalittleponyboy: SHUTTTTTTT UPPPPPPP

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Lmao

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Do you think this is all I have?

(👑) ilovey/nslives: If only I could send screenshots of my DMs with Y/N here…

(👑) ilovey/nslives: It’s safe to say we’re dating at this point

(👑) ilovey/nslives: And that’s because I’m not counting all the money I’ve spent

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Wowwwww you spent 20 dollars on her!!! I’ve probably spent more than 500 bucks on her 😂

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Then you’re technically not the biggest spender. I am.

(👑) theballadeer6: STFU

(👑) theballadeer6: NO ONE CALLED YOU HERE OLD FUCKING HAG

garrykafka0275: These. kids…

justalittleponyboy: Y’all are just taking advantage of Y/N

justalittleponyboy: She will mute the both of you in the end.

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Ownnnnn… Look at him! He’s hurt! 🥺

(👑) theballadeer6: IM NOT HURT YOU FUCKING STUPID

(👑) theballadeer6: IM JUST TELLING YOU THE FUCKING TRUTH

(👑) theballadeer6: Y/N DOESN’T LIKE YOU

(👑) theballadeer6: U R NOTHING COMPARED TO ME

(👑) theballadeer6: NOTHING

(👑) theballadeer6: NONE OF Y’ALL ARE “REAL FANS”

justalittleponyboy: 🙄

(👑) ilovey/nslives: If Y/N ever starts doing these service irl you know who to thank

(👑) theballadeer6: SHE WOULD NEVER DO IRL SERVICES

winnerslovewinning: Have y’all ever stopped to think that maybe Y/N isn’t even straight in the first place

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Yeah no Y/N isn’t for the women…

(👑) ladyguujiyae: But I am

winnerslovewinning: Oh?

winnerslovewinning: DMs?

(👑) ladyguujiyae: After this live 😉

lolisonmydee: Get out of here yuritards

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Says the lolicon

winnerslovewinning: Shut up male

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Maybe she would start it because some people ACTUALLY give her all the money she wants for it unlike some people…

(👑) theballadeer6: OHHHHHHH YOU REALLY THINK YOURE ALL THAT JUST BECAUSE OF SOME BUCKS

(👑) theballadeer6: DO YOU THINK SHE’D EVER LAY DOWN WITH A DISGUSTING 40 YEAR OLD CHRONICALLY ONLINE CREEP LIKE YOU?

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Oh wow

(👑) theballadeer6: EVEN IF SHE DID START DOING IRL SERVICES I’D BE TEN TIMES AHEAD OF U IN THE LINE

(👑) theballadeer6: FUCKING LOSER

(👑) theballadeer6: IF MONEY MATTERS TO U THIS MUCH THEN THAT’S HOW WE WILL FUCKING PLAY

Scaramouche, fuming and grunting in pure stress, closed the chat tab to not get annoyed anymore and went directly to the “Donate” button in your screen, almost breaking his mouse when he clicked it. He was so mad with this guy that not even the view of you could calm him down. So mad he was barely holding himself from either destroying his own computer or beat himself up.

Meanwhile, you still bounced up and down on the dildo with a bored face, trying to calculate how much you’ve gained yet tonight to distract yourself from the shallowness of your performance. You believe you’ve gotten three 5-dollar donations and 2 10-dollar donations, which eventually add up to 35 dollars. Adding this up with the singular donations of 25 dollars from of your premium viewers, you get 60 dollars in total.

Damn. For an unpopular streamer that didn’t even get to cum once yet, you’d done quite some bucks… You know what? It’s not better not to think so positively about it, or else you might jinx—

“User ‘@theballadeer6’ donated 200$!”

Huh?

Two… hundred?

No, you must be hearing things.

You looked backwards immediately, meeting the decorated pop-up that alarmed the donation telling you what exactly you heard. Two-hundred dollars. A number two and two perfect zeroes sided to each other with no comma in between. Even if you were witnessing it, you still didn’t want to believe your own eyes. So you blinked once, then twice, then another time, but the number wouldn’t lose any of its zeroes.

“Two… Two hundred?! Oh, my God! Thank you so much, Balladeer! This really means a lot to—!”

“THERE YOU FUCKING GO YOU FUCKING WORM. IS THIS ENOUGH FOR YOU?! NOW DO YOU SEE WHO IS THE REAL FAN BETWEEN US OR DO YOU WANT MORE FUCKING PROOF?! BECAUSE I CAN GIVE YOU MORE. I KNOW Y/N’s NAME, HER FULL NAME, WHO HER PARENTS ARE, WHO HER SISTER IS, WHERE SHE WORKS, HER HOME ADDRESS AND EVEN THE NAME OF HER FUCKING CAT.”

…

What..?

Your smile died, not understanding at all what the message meant. You looked to the chat, meeting many caps-locked messages from the Balladeer guy and from other people too.

(👑) ladyguujiyae: What the fuck

(👑) ilovey/nslives: Ew?

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Y/N, I think you should end the stream.

winnerslovewinning: Men 🤦‍♀️

(👑) theballadeer6: IS THIS ENOUGH FOR YOU? DO YOU SEE THE TRUTH NOW?

Was this guy… talking to you?

“I…” You tried answering him but you just simply couldn’t form any phrase that made sense.

Your right hand reached your mouse and started scrolling up, meeting much more caps-locked texts that gave you better context of that message. It was a fight, one they’ve done while you weren’t looking. How naive of you. Your heart slowly twisted in disgust and fear for your life, your throat trying to push something out of it… vomit.

What is this? Who is this guy? Why is he doing this? Is his message true? Does he know who you are? Is this that Instagram stalker that always finds a way to contact you over and over again? Has he made this much progress?

You didn’t know how you looked to the people seeing you, but you knew it wasn’t pretty. You knew you were giving an ugly image of yourself almost panicking like that.

justalittleponyboy: Yeah Y/N just ban these weirdos from your chat

This guy was smart. He was thinking the same thing as you. Your “biggest fan” apparently was a victim of this Balladeer guy’s rage, meaning it’d only be fair to ban the Balladeer and perhaps mute your “biggest fan” to make sure this isn’t brought up to the stream anymore.

But should you really ban this guy? He just gave you 200 dollars, and this was his first stream of you. He’s creepy, he’s one of the most bizarre men you’ve ever seen yet, but reading the fight that happened in your absence, all he seemed to be was to be a bit too possessive of you.

Remember how he praised you in the beginning of the livestream? He wasn’t rude or aggressive to you, only them. Was he really a stalker? Specifically the one in your Instagram? Or just a really dedicated fan? In the chat he seemed to still be trying to convince your “biggest fan” that the title belongs to him instead while indirectly apologizing to you. Maybe… it isn’t worth to lose those monthly 20 dollars… Not when you need that money so much.

Your life isn’t cheap. Even if you can handle your conditions the way they are, you still desire more money. You want to have a comfortable life after retirement and you want to especially show your family you aren’t little. You aren’t worthless despite this second job of yours. You want them to have zero false pity for you.

So… you won’t ban him. If he suddenly becomes a less prominent spender, then you’ll definitely ban him, but if he keeps spending this much money on you… you can’t ban him. The sacrifice might be worth it.

But, you don’t even want to be naked anymore. You want to stop. You want to put on your favorite pijamas, lock your doors and windows and go to sleep. So, you quickly messed with the moderation tools in your chat and muted them both. Your “biggest fan” was muted for an hour while the Balladeer was muted for a day.

“I-I’m sorry, guys… I don’t feel comfortable continuing today’s livestream.” You quickly stated, too embarrassed to face the camera, before abruptly pulling up another tab to stream to the viewers, your ‘pause tab’.

It was a picture with a big pink-aesthetic text saying “Be right back!” with another cute and sexy picture of you in the back of it to entertain the viewers while they waited. You pulled up this screen before closing the live so you could read the last comforting messages from your normal audience while you dressed your underwear again.

(👑) ladyguujiyae: Rest well :(

lolisonmydee: bruhhh don’t let them affect you

(👑) mrdaddy900030: Stay safe Y/N

justalittleponyboy: they’re just random douchebags Y/N ignore them

harbinger2: 👋👋👋

“Thank you, guys.” You quietly spoke, trying to hold back the shake of your mouth and voice.

And finally, you clicked the red “End Livestream” button, and your viewers ceased.

FUCK!!!!!

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!

This guy..! THIS GUY!!!

What have I done?! What the fuck was I thinking?! I fucked it up! No, no, HE fucked me up! He orchestrated me to do this! He baited me to rage to a screen and make myself look bad to Y/N!

“Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid..!” I slapped my own face over and over as I repeated those degrading words to myself.

It’s been a while since I’ve last freaked out like this and I’m surprised this triggered me to react like this. But I just can’t handle it. My Y/N working in this industry… having this kind of men following her… It’s too much. I fucking hate it. I hate it bad.

So much that my anger finally boiled up enough for me to scream. It was once and brutal, letting most of it out. It also forced my hands to move up to my head and grab my locks as if I wanted to rip them off, and I almost did. The pain of pulling my own scalp this hard made me scream harder, but it was the only way I could get rid of this itching anger without harming my materials.

I need to know Y/N’s relationship with this man. I can’t let him too close to her at all. He’s a danger to me and her and he knows it.

I’ll show him what a real fan truly is.

Taglist: @shy-ent @the-stinky-winky @bigmantiddys @goofy-ego @sasuri123 @gaboplaydespacito @thegriffinbird @alatusorrow @luminieee @toobytub @wandereryumee

Anon, I know you probably weren’t expecting a part 2 of another fic for your request but… unfortunately my Scaramouche battery is seriously running out right now and I took advantage of the fact that you said the original fic did please you a lot, so I hope this serves you too! Sorry for not making a whole new original prompt! 🙏

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

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hey-itsdollie · 2 months ago

Note

HIll HSUSHDXB I LIVE UR WRITING SO MUCH I HAVE A REQ PLS HMO.. I saw a tiktok where a girl was "getting ready" and her bf came in and asked "what are u getting ready for? " going and she answered "u mean what are WE getting ready for?" and basically she was gaslighting him into believing they had a date that day:DD I RLLY RLLY RLLY wanna see this with Isagi, Bachira, Barou, Gagamaru, Chigiri Kunigami and maybe Ness :pp IF THEY ARE TOO MANY U CAN PICK FROM THEM PLSS and also can u write it so y/n tells them it was a prank when the guy is halfway thru getting ready??

Ps i realized i had the video saved while writing

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNdhNPJMQ/

You didn't forget did you?

Thank you for the request! I love this idea!!!

‧₊˚ ┊ In which you trick them into thinking they forgot you had a date.

୭˚. ᵎᵎ featuring » isagi. bachira. barou. gagamaru. chigiri. kunigami. ness.

⋮ ⌗ ┆cw ⪼ established relationship, female reader, prank, pet names

Part 1 -u are here!-, Part 2

── .✦ Yoichi Isagi

Isagi just got back from training at the gym with Bachira when he opened the door to your shared home. His blue eyes looked around once he took his shoes off feeling something was off.

You hadn't come to greet him yet... which was odd because you always greeted him at the door with a kiss. Always even if he had just come back from doing the smallest thing outside.

"Sweetie?" he called concern lacing his words as he set his gym bag down and began looking around the kitchen and living room. Nothing. You were no where to be seen.

That was until he heard music coming from your shared bathroom. He quickly jogged to the bathroom, slightly out of breath due to panic of searching for you. He leaned against the door frame, the sight before him making his body freeze in it's place.

"Sweetie? Whatcha doing?" he questioned carefully.

A scoff left your lips as you turned to him your hair done up all pretty, and your make up finished besides your lips. "What am I doing? What are you doing? You came home so late."

Isagi shook his head confused walking up to you. "Late? Late for what?" he tilt his head, his hands already hesitantly looping around your waist.

"Don't tell me you forgot? Our date Yoichi."

You could see Isagi's face visibly pale almost immediately. His hesitant smile fully dropping from his features. "Date?" he muttered in a questioning tone, in response you nodded like it was obvious.

"W...we have a date... tonight?" he tripped over his words pulling away running a hand through his dark hair. There was absolutely no way the two of you had a date that he forgot about.

Hell he was the one that asked you out on dates!

His eyes shot to your face as a frown grew on your features. "So we aren't going out?" you asked sadly making your boyfriend's heart ache. "N...no, we are! Just let me get ready okay sweetie?" he stated quickly before rushing off to the closet to put something presentable on.

As he left the room a grin formed on your features. Your plan working almost too perfectly, though you felt a bit guilty after seeing the pain on his features.

Not even ten minutes later Isagi came rushing back into the bathroom his collared shirt crooked as his belt wasn't through the right loops. He looked like a mad man.

"You got less than ten minutes Yoichi." you hummed applying your lipstick carefully in the mirror.

"Fuck okay..." he muttered trying to fix himself quickly.

"Oh and Yoichi." you called making the male huff and turn to you, mentally preparing himself in case he forgot something else.

"This was a prank."

Time froze. Isagi froze along with it. You turned to him holding in a laugh that was on the verge of bursting out.

"A what?"

"A prank. Got ya!"

Isagi got silent as he crouched close to the floor placing his hands on his face, looking stressed whilst taking deep breathes.

You grew concerned looking down at him. "Uhm... you okay Yoichi?"

"I will be..."

── .✦ Meguru Bachira

"Hey babyyy- woah..." You turned your hand with the mascara wand freezing in the air, as you look at your husband. Bachira looked you up and down with a confused grin. "Whatcha getting ready for?" he asked curiously tilting his head. He wasn't even trying to hide the fact he was actively checking you out. "Uhm our date?" "Date?" "Yeah... date..." Bachira could beat a statue in it's own game from the way his body went rigid. "Woah woah! What date?!?" he shouted running up to you waving his hands frantically. "We don't have a date?! I would know- I plan them!!" he stated quickly his brows furrowed. "No way you forgot Megs! Really I've been looking forward to it!" you whined placing the mascara wand down as you crossed your arms over your chest. "Right... right... uhm can we reschedule it?" he questioned flinching as if the mere proposition would lead to his death. "No. Go get ready Meguru." you stated firmly with an unamused glare. "Okay... okay..." he slumped off, feeling bad for forgetting something so important to you. Bachira came back in one sock on and the other no where to be seen, his shirt was on his head as he went to the sink as he began brushing his teeth quickly. "You promise we have a date?" he said his mouth full of toothpaste. "Yes Meguru, don't speak with toothpaste in your mouth!" You sighed watching him spit the stuff out and begin to wash his face. "Uhm another thing Meguru..." you said hesitantly as he continued to splash water on his face humming in response for you to continue. "This was all a prank..." you said quickly. The bathroom got silent after that, the only noise being made from the running sink. The male seemed to freeze still hunched over the sink. "Sorry Meguru I saw this video and wanted to try it!" You tried to reason with him but he slowly turned to you almost scaring you. Then before you knew it, you were dripping wet. "Megs?!?!" you gasp after your husband just splashed you with water, his face blank. "Oh oops! My monster told me to do it!"

── .✦ Shoei Barou

"Hey where did you put-" Barou froze in the doorway of the bathroom. His red eyes trailing up your figure which was in a form-fitting dress. The one you recently just bought on your most recent shopping adventure. "Where the hell are you going dressed like that?" the male questioned crossing his arms. You scoffed looking at him through the bathroom mirror as you actively put your makeup on; "Our date obviously?" "Date? What fucking date?" he scoffed taking his phone out; most likely going to his calendar app. Something he used quite often. Just as he got on to the current day he scoffed almost laughing, "You in your right mind, we don't have a date tonight?" he rolled his eyes leaning against the bathroom wall. "Yes we do." This time you turned to him with a glare. "Remember the beach restaurant?" Your words made Barou's eyebrows furrow. He didn't remember having a date tonight. And there is no way in hell he wouldn't have wrote it down if he did plan one. He left the room coming back shortly after his departure walking up to you. "What game are you playing at? Because neither the virtual calendar nor the physical one says anything about a date tonight." You frowned. "We do though Shoei!" "Quit lying, or I'm not making your pastries tomorrow." he growled out. You froze forgetting he promised you those. "Ugh you're no fun. I wanted to try this prank I saw." "God why did I marry someone so childish." he groaned patting your hair. "Let me go get ready..." You looked up confused as your husband walked off to your shared closet. "Get ready for what?" "Our date obviously."

── .✦ Gin Gagamaru

You walked into your bedroom seeing your boyfriend laying on your bed watching Natural Geographic on your computer. "Gin what are you doing? What about our date?" you questioned putting your earrings in as you stood at the end of the bed wearing a sundress. The male turned to you tiredly after a few seconds. His wide eyes gazing at your figure, no emotions showing on his features. "Date? Since when?" he muttered his voice deep and blunt. You sighed walking to him and grabbing his arm trying to drag his large body off the bed. "Since tonight! Don't tell me you forgot!" Your whines made Gagamaru get off the bed standing a near foot taller than you as he looked down at you. "Where are we going?" he muttered blankly completely clueless on what was going on. You comically pushed him towards the closet. "That one restaurant remember." A sigh left his lips as he hated going out to a fancy restaurant. "Do we have too?" "Yes! The reservations were already made Gin!" After five minutes of trying—and failing—to push your beast of a boyfriend to the closet he gave in and went on his own. You sat on the bed waiting for him as you grinned thinking about how it was easier to trick him than you thought it'd be. "Is this okay?" he muttered stepping out of the closet wearing nicer clothes than before. "Yep, you look great honey!" you grinned walking up to him. He was about to walk to the bathroom when you muttered something that caught his attention. "Now I feel bad..." you muttered as he tuned to you. "Feel bad about what?" he questioned tilting his head. "Oh that this was all a prank... sorry!" you confess with a sheepish smile. A squeal left your lips as the male grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder as he walked towards the bed. "Huh hey Gin put me down! What are you doing?!" you questioned hitting his back slightly. He tossed you on the bed as you gazed up at him, your vision focusing on him. "Oh boy..."

── .✦ Hyoma Chigiri

"Hey baby have you seen my... oh wow okay." You glanced at your boyfriend through the mirror. "Huh, why aren't you dressed yet?" you questioned a frown on your features. The question caught the red-head off guard. "Dressed? Where are we going?" "Don't tell me you forgot Hyo..." you gasped turning to face him. "Remember we were gonna go to the pier..." "The pier?" he repeated turning his head as if it would help him hear you more clearly. "Yeah you were gonna win me a plushie Hyoma." You turned back continuing to do your makeup as he watched you silently not knowing if you were joking or not. He decided to test the waters by letting out a slight awkward laugh. "Haha... very funny Y/n, now what are you talking about?" "Hyoma I don't understand what's so funny. Are you seriously saying you forgot our date?" you glared at him through the mirror. He felt his muscles tense slightly before shaking his head. "No... no of course not... it must've just slipped my mind- yeah..." he left the room to go quickly get ready. Whilst he did Chigiri grabbed his phone checking his reminders for the day. Finding that no reminder was set for a date at all for any day of the week. "What the hell is she talking about? Did I seriously forget?" he muttered grabbing one one of his dress shirts. He quickly got ready not wanting to make you even more pissed than you probably already were. He walked back into the bathroom shortly after, grabbing his brush as he gazed down at his skin care products. He wouldn't even have time to do his routine. With a groan he began brushing his long red hair, feeling a pair of eyes on him. "What is it?" he sighed a frown on his face. "Nothing, you're just making me feel bad now." you groaned leaning against the counter with a bored look. "Feel bad? What?" he looked at you confused. "That this was all a prank of course." you replied simply shrugging. "Y/n... are you serious?" Chigiri sighed with two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yep!" "God I hate you."

── .✦ Rensuke Kunigami

Kunigami has just gotten home from the gym when he saw that dinner wasn't ready yet. He grew confused considering you normally always had dinner ready by the time he got home. "Y/n?" he called confused as he walked into the master bedroom. You sat at your vanity fixing your hair as his eyes widened at your appearance. "What are you dressed up for?" he questioned. You looked over at him "Our date, don't tell me you forgot Rensuke." you spoke looking him up and down. A unamused expression growing on your face. "Why are you just sitting there? Go get ready before we're late." "Woah pause, when did we have a date to begin with Y/n? And why didn't you remind me before I went to the gym?" his right hand ran through his hair, a sign that he was becoming stressed. "Well you've never forgot about date before..." you muttered innocently as you went back to fixing your hair. You hard a groan come from him as he walked to the bathroom starting the shower. "Damn that was easy..." you muttered to yourself as you began to do your makeup. Kunigami then left the bathroom wearing a white button up shirt that showed his muscles well along with black dress pants. "Where are we going anyways?" he muttered heading to the dresser to grab his cologne that you bought him for his brithday. "Uhm... the kitchen" you answered like it was the obvious thing in the world. Your words made the ginger freeze, his cologne mid spray before he turned to you. You were already grinning up at him makeup done, hair done, and dressed in one of his favorite dresses. "Y/n... tell me the truth..." Kunigami spoke slowly needing to make sure if his thoughts were correct. "Our date will be in the kitchen... surprise!" You waved your hands happily as he just stared at you for a few seconds. "Ren?" you tilt your head as he rubbed his face. "You're a lot of work you know that?" he muttered his tired gaze on you and only you. A scoff left your lips, "You don't mean that! Right Ren?" His silence said everything as he went back to the closet to change. "Ren! No come back!"

── .✦ Alexis Ness

Ness just got back from training with Kaiser, when we was heading into the bathroom to shower. His eyes spotted you at the bathroom counter wearing a light flowy dress whilst in the midst of fixing your hair. "Woah hübsche, what's the occasion?" [ᴾʳᵉᵗᵗʸ] he hummed smoothly wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. "You didn't tell me you were going out with the girls tonight..." he muttered resting his head on your shoulder as he gazed at you through the mirror. "That's because I'm not, did you forget Alexis?" you raised an eyebrow at him. "Forget what?" he returned. "Our date." you spoke bluntly. To say he didn't feel hurt that you would ever think he would forget something as important as a date, deeply hurt him. That's like saying you were questioning his love for you. Which is something he has proven to you more than once... "No no we don't have a date... did you get your dates mixed up Y/n? We have one ten six days from now at 4pm at the aquarium but not tonight." he spoke simply with a close eyed smile. Your eyes widened forgetting how good of a memory he had. "N...no we have a date tonight... go get ready." With a small huff Ness went and did as told. His mind racing with ideas of what you were planning. He knew damn well there was no planned date. Was it a surprise? No you wouldn't have accused him of forgetting if it was... Just what was his girl plotting? By the time he was out of the shower and dressed in his nicer wardrobe. You were leaning against the door way. "Wanna know something Alexis?" you asked gazing at your boyfriend. His attention turned you, already noticing you didn't seem to be in as much of a rush as before. "What hübsche?" "This was all a prank..." Your confession made him smile wide. Which confused you heavily. "What you're not mad or upset? Not even relieved?" you questioned walking up to him quickly. "I mean you just proved I was right. You know I never forget our dates." he replied, his words sickly sweet. His eyes didn't match his smile as they held more of a warning as if to say "Don't try this again." Which you most definitely was not going to...

©hey-itsdollie please don't copy, change, or steal my work. Thank you!

339 notes · View notes

lndsismaeverything · 8 months ago

Text

Drunken moments

Lnds men gets a little drunk and spills away their feelings at the moment ( MC is already in a relationship with him )

An: here I am writing another fic even though I don't wanna ᕕ(˵•̀෴•́˵)ᕗ took me 3 days to write this ...

Not proof read sorry for mistake and grammar issue. And some words

Xavier

You and Xavier are having a home hotpot. Just a little celebration form todays mission. It was his idea to eat hotpot in the new hotpot restaurant . But when y'all got there it was to crowded and have to wait 2 hours for a table.

Xavier was disappointed to say the least . It was late at night ,almost 10 pm already and he was really craving hotpot

" Xavier why not have hotpot at home? We can buy the ingredients at the store plush it be a lot cheaper and more food" you said looking at his gloomy expression turn into bright smile

" yea, it would be just the two of us too "

The two of you bought the ingredients and headed straight to your apartment since you have all the equipment for the hotpot

No later did you pulled out the alcoholic peach drink you bought a few days ago that was sitting in the fridge, nothing is better then having a cool drink with hotpot on a chilly night

Xavier didn't usually drink but today was an exception and was worth it after defeating a wonderer

I don't know if Xavier can hold his liquor or not judging by his appearance he looks like he'll be knock out cold after a few glasses. Or he can hold it every well since she's been living for over 214yrs on earth now

But let's say he's weak to alcohol for now-

Xavier cheeks are dusted with a hue of pink he should stop drinking while he's still sober. But he can't because of the delicious hotpot u made goes so well which this nice refreshing alcoholic peach drink

After cleaning up the table with the help of your boyfriend you decided to settling on the sofa, to watch a some random comedy video

" Xavier I think u have enough to drink " you said to your boyfriend and grabbing the alcoholic drink and put it on the coffee table, which he protested but let it go

You lay on the sofa , switching from show to show not knowing that Xavier stared at you lovingly. The next moment Xavier lean toward you and kissed your cheeks

It caught you in surprised of the sudden affection of his just now " you look pretty bunbun " Xavier wrapped his arm around your waist and snuggled close

You just smile at him realizing he's a bit drunk but also a bit sober but not completely.

" thank you for the delicious hotpot " his voice so gentle yet soothing

" can we hotpot like this everytime? " he said looking up at you as you played with his soft fluffy hair

" yes of course " you replied, your hand cupped his cheek as you draw small circles.Letting go he plopped his head back on your thighs snuggling close and holding you tighter making you laugh as it tickles

" my honey is the best person in the universe. And not only is she strong, beautiful , kind, trustworthy , independent and a bit stubborn sometimes . She also an amazing cook and Baker."

"I love her so much , my little starlight "

"Your my brightes star in my univers. Beaming brightly when I miss you. Reminding me that I'm not alone "

with that Xavier fell asleep. You turn off the TV and join him holding him tight as he lay on too of you

Both of you woke up from the sofa with back pain.

Zayne

You and zayne just got out of the bar and headed straight home.

Of course zayne didn't drink but that didn't mean you didn't. It was a bummer that zayne didn't enjoyed the free cocktail that the hospital will pay later on . Congratulating zayne for having the title of the youngest doctor that maded it so far in his career as a cardiac surgeon.

The small part only included zayne colleagues and you .

Greyson try to convince zayne to at least have one glass or a beer but zayne refused saying " I'm responsible for taking y/n home "

After zayne dropped you off home you invited him over saying you got him a gift for him. Grabbing the gift from th kitchen table you handed to him and congratulated him on his achievement

He open the gift and it was chocolates

" may I ?" He asked you told him it's his and he could eat it now if he wanted. Knowing zayne sweet tooth he immediately devoured 3 of them while you get something to go along with the chocolate and-

You forget to tell him those aren't just any regular chocolates

" zayne-" your cut off by the sight of him, cheeks tinted pink hes already unwrapped his 4th chocolate already

" these chocolate... I never tasted something like his before..its quite unique ..it taste like Cherry's and grapes.." he popped the the chocolate in his mouth

You told zayne that these chocolate has wine infuse in them. That's why it's taste like grapes and a hit of cherry

each chocolate ball contains 13% alcohol and are meant to enjoy slowly with something salty like ham or cured meat

" how many did you have already? "

" this is my 4th one "

Thinking he has enough already for one night you take the box out of his hands and settled it on the table

You let your boyfriend stay for the night as he can't drive, having eaten a lot of chocolate

You dragged him to your bedroom as he's in a daze looking at you with such fondness. After his shower you have him some spare clothes he left you in case he's staying over

Zayne, siting on the edge of the bed watches you gently dry his hair. He hasn't spoken much since he ate the chocolates which made you a bit worried

" dear, is everything alright ? You seem at a daze, you haven't spoken much since you at the chocolates "

Zayne just pulled you on his lap and started giving you soft butterfly kisses on your face and neck before replying

" it's just that you seem so beautiful that I consider myself lucky to have met you "

"Your existing in my life is everything to me , I can't imagine my life without you by my side...''

"Your my the warmth to my heart, with you I experienced summer in snowy blizzard"

" you're like my precious flower that can survive. in the winter"

" also I want my flower to be careful and not hey hurt during mission . I don't want to see her coming to the hospital injured "

After sharing a moment with your beloved snowman both of you settled to bed , zayne spoons you closely in hin arms kissing the top of your head before whispering " goodnight "

Rafayel

Rafayel avoid drinking during his art exhibition. Especially when someone hands him some wine , wanting to toast him for his great success as young artists

Rafayel doesn't drink the wine as it might be spiked or something. But he except the glass and carefully examinen the wine before cheering with some business men and taking a sip

He's very careful with his surroundings, the moment he say you coming through he excuses himself to be with you

" you late miss body guard "

You apologize and explained that the wonderer you delt today took longer then you expected

" what's important now is that your here "

The art exhibition almost lasted for 4hours, you where by rafayel side the entire time as his request for making up to him for being late.

Rafayel having to meet a lot of people congratulate and toasting him for his newest work , grew more and more red as he takes sip after sip of his wine

Being by your boyfriend as he spoke with some important investors and buyers you noticed Rafayel getting less and less sober

Something wasn't right here, you felt uneasy why was there only wine served and not other drinks?

And the wine they give out isn't weak one either. You saw on the bottle it was 17% alcohol

Feeling worried you looked at Rafayel, you can feel Rafayel getting annoyed and wanted to leave as more people approach him and want to speak with him bout his art you decided its time to go

" let's us give you a toast, to our partner ship Mr. Rafayel ! " they raised there glass before Rafayel could take another sip you took his glass from him and-

" sorry gentlemens I'll drink on Rafayel behalf, he had enough for today " they understand and you leave with your boyfriend

You hold Rafayel hands the inter way out, Rafayel couldn't help but blush, admiring you as you took him away from those annoying people

You called Thomas telling him your taking Rafayel home as he's clearly getting drunk and it was probably someone plan wanting Rafayel to get drunk so they can write something about him and publishing it on the news.

Thomas understand and ended the art exhibition earlier then expected

You call a cab and headed to Rafayel house ( island )

You unluck his house and guide Rafayel inside

" you know what miss bodyguard , your the best bodyguard there is"

" without you my world would be full of black and greys "

" I miss you when your not around "

" I hate it when you keep me waiting "

" but I love it even when your late you try to make an effort to come see me and make it up to me "

" you're my special pearl from the deep sea"

You stayed with Rafayel for the night, the next morning thosmas blew up Rafayel phone asking him to check the news

The news about 'having a secret relationship with his bodyguard?' With a picture of the two of you holding has while waiting for a cab

Sylus

You don't even know how sylus got drunk or at least he looks like he's drunk . When you where at the bace you heard them coming back. So you decided to great them at the door and asked how it go

But you where met with sylus disheveled look like his been hit by a truck

" I'm going to my room don't bother me" sylus said passing through you

You ask luke and kierran about him as they just came from a business deal

You asked like and kieren if sylus drink got spiked . They laugh at you, you think the great leader of onychinus got his drink spiked and fell for it ?

It does sound ridiculous because you know he can handle his alcohol.

Like explain that sylus in hailed some gass that enemy planned , supposedly to make you weak and not able to think straight kinda like alcohol

" yea boss man got hit with ton of gass that's why he looks like that " kierran informed you

" don't worry boss won't go down that easily it will wear off in a couple of hours "

you headed straight to sylus bedroom to check on him but you go to the kitchen counter first to get two glasses of gin fiz that you prepared earlier

You don't know if it's a good idea or not but you already made them anyway

Holding two glass you couldn't knock on the door your about to call for sylus until the door open for you to come in

" didn't I say don't bother me?" stood beside his record player in a robe clearly stated he just got out of the shower

" but you still open the door for me " you settled the two glasses of gin fizz at the coffee table at taking as seat before turning to him

" I heard form like and kierran. How are you doing? Everything okay?"

He just sighed and pick up the glass and drinks it enjoying the refreshing drink before sitting next to you and shared about what happened

" have I ever told you when your with me on the meetings times goes faster? "

"But today was particularly slow bec you where to there so I told them to hurry it up as they where waisting my time. They didn't took that lightly so they grew a surprise attack "

" I was pleased as it turn out like that because I didn't needed them anyway "

" the moment the gass took a but affect on me on the ride to the bace my mind was occupied by you "

" I couldn't stop thinking about you "

" your laughter, your smile, you scent ,everything "

He finished his glass and looked at you, his eyes soft as he gently caress your cheek

" your everything to me..."

" without you I feel trapped in a cage , living out life without it's full potential"

"With you around, I like feel the chains around me being broken setting me free "

" you are my key to my cage..."

" my kitten, my sweetie, my miss hunter, my beloved...."

He's words are sweet and he ment everything he said but you couldnt help but tease him a bit

"Who are you and what have you don't to my sylus" you said you couldn't hold in your laugher .

Sylus just chuckled and shook his head .It was rare for sylus to be sharing his feelings and thoughts

" I wonder if it's the gun fizz fault or the gass you in heiled" you wonder tapping your chin

"Gues we'll never know the answer'' Sylus just took both your hand and gently lean in to kiss your lips

And took another

And another

Before you giggle at him, removing you hand from his , you looped it around his neck before kissing him back

After you finish your glass sylus carried you to him bed , he wants to be sleeping next to you and waking up next you everyday and every night

He carefully lifted the blanket up and holds you tight before humming as soft tune that both of you fell asleep within minutes

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rafescolors · 3 months ago

Text

meeting dad!rafe and his baby girl.

𖹭 pairing: rafe x reader.

𖹭 summary: you meet rafe while his baby is crying and you offer your help.

𖹭 tags: fluff, au, rafe's a girl dad.

𖹭 warnings: one mention of postpartum depression (mentally ill girlies let's go), suggestive stuff at the end.

𖹭 other: fem!reader, reader doesn't like the idea of pregnancy but feels insanely attracted to dad!rafe.

tis what happens when u have baby fever thinking about rafe cameron being a girl dad but detest the thought of actually having babies. not proofread<3

act: i have no idea how babies work please excuse any inaccuracies.

◟ ⟡ ◟

USUALLY, YOUR FIRST INSTINCT WHEN ENCOUNTERING A BABY IS RUNNING AWAY. You know you are not meant to be pregnant and have a baby, the risk of postpartum depression too big to take it. And also, you are kind of really fucking bad with them. They stared, you did, they cried, you looked away. Rinse and repeat.

And yet, when you see a big, tall guy with a tiny baby in his arms, crying like it's getting mauled, you can't help yourself: you walk closer to him, his misty, desperate eyes waking something in you.

"Hey, can I help you with something?," you whisper gently. "'M kinda bad with babies, but I can try. I'm also great at following directives."

He looked up, his watery eyes meeting yours.

"She's- she's been crying non-stop for like half an hour. I think she's hungry, but I forgot her formula, and I can't take her to some local grocery store, they death glared me when I tried, but I don't have anyone to look after her."

You hum, nodding at his rapid words.

"I could grab the formula. Or the baby, if you show me how to-" You make a gesture indicating having a baby in your arms. "It'd be safer for me to buy the formula, though." You frown, thoughts going to dark places about people trusting their kids with strangers.

He starts nodding, clearly relieved. "Give me your number. I'll send you a picture of her usual formula and a B and C option."

You smile at him, grabbing his offered phone and typing both your number and name. When he sees it, he says it softly, like tasting the way it sounds from his lips.

Your heart skips a beat.

He smiles brightly at you.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he kind of purrs, the name softly rolling from his tongue. You shiver.

With a dazed nod, you walk towards the closest grocery store and look for any option. Finding none, you huff and try two more of them before you finally find one of the options.

You brandish it as if it's a prize, smiling at him.

"Here! Do you have where to make it? I live a few blocks from here if you don't."

He smiles, relieved, and nods at you. "Yeah, please. You're an angel."

You blush before turning around and guiding him to your place. It's a little two bedroom with a small private yard. You enter the place, giggling when your puppy jumps up at you. "Hey, girl, down, we have visits." You let him in.

"I'm Rafe, by the way," he mumbles, his eyes looking around at your home.

You hum in acknowledgement, pointing him to your favorite reading couch, knowing it's soft and cushiony and the best place to sit on.

Yet he stands there, his expression thoughtful. "Would you mind looking after her?," he whispers over his baby's cries. You blink up at him, confused. "I have to make the formula. It's a specific heat and all that, so it's safer if I make it."

You look down, frowning, realizing you hadn't even thought about it. With a firm nod, you walk towards your couch and sit, making grabby hands in his direction. "Please feel free to accommodate, I don't have the slightest idea of how to grab babies so small."

He chuckles, his eyes softening when he looks down at his baby.

With a nod, he walks towards you, moving the baby to one arm while using the other to move yours around until they're in the perfect position. You hold your breath, gently grabbing the baby, scared you'll hurt her. He stands behind you, his arms wrapping around yours in a way that makes your breath quicken, tightening your grip and accommodating the baby's head on your arms.

"Keep her head up," he whispers in your ear, making you shiver. "Be gentle but firm. She won't break." You nod silently, scared of moving.

He chuckles at the image you make, gripping the baby with scared and wide eyes.

He hums while making the formula, checking on you with quick glances. You sit still, not even breathing too deeply, the baby looking up at you with wide and curious eyes while she sniffles lowly, not crying bloody murder anymore. You think it's because the curiosity trumped her hunger. You keep your eyes on her, both of you staring at the other, and strangely, you feel yourself relaxing, gently moving one hand until you can tap her little hand that's on her mouth. "Hi, there, little lady," you whisper.

She blinks up at you with big blue eyes, and you can't help but smile when realizing they're the same ones as his dad's.

"Oh, you're cute," you whisper in a small whine. "I usually think babies are ugly, you know?" You keep talking to her as if she understands you, as if she's a fully grown human being. She garbles in response. "Oh, yeah, you're really cute, actually. It's strange."

You hear someone chuckling and gasp from surprise, yet your body doesn't move an inch in your attempt to not let the baby fall.

"She likes you," Rafe murmurs in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. "She's never stared at someone so hard, you know?" Your breath hitches at his proximity.

"Babies kinda stare at me a lot. But then they cry. 'S weird she's not crying."

He laughs softly, his arms wrapping around you again before he lifts his daughter from your arms.

"Seems like she really likes you, then."

You stand up abruptly once she's in his arms, your eyes following the way he walks around your small living room, lightly patting her back. He reaches for the baby bottle, shushing her when she cries out softly and grabs for it, gently moving it in the right position so she can suck. Your breath catches in your throat, the image in front of you so domestic and hot at the same time. How is it possible that being so gentle with his baby makes this man ten times hotter? The way his biceps bunch under his clothes, his strong forearms around the baby's small body, his big hand wrapping around the whole baby bottle. You squirm a bit in your place, feeling something you've never felt before.

Fuck, you're attracted to a dad.

He's so big yet so gentle yet so strong yet so soft and it's making your head dizzy. You clench one of your hands in a fist.

"You're staring," he smirks, arrogant.

You blush, huffing. "Baby's cute."

He snorts. "I think you're staring at her cute dad," he teases you.

With a roll of your eyes, you cross your arms.

"'M just ovulating, probably," you grumble, feeling too vulnerable under his knowing, intense stare.

He laughs, the baby in his arms moving with his body, yet never getting her grip off the bottle.

"Ovulating you say? Means you want a baby and a baby daddy?"

You chew on your bottom lip, eyes crinkling with a smile.

"Maybe," you mumble softly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Who the fuck cares, that man is hot, and has a kid, and he's very soft and gentle with her and you don't see a ring on his finger. And you just know if he was with someone she would never let him out of her sight with a baby in his arms. Women go crazy over dads.

You included, it seems. For this specific dad.

"Don't actually wanna be pregnant, but maybe I'd like the act of trying," you shrug nonchalantly.

His grin turns wolfish.

"Well, sweetheart, you're in luck. 'Cause this baby daddy would really like to try to get a pretty girl like you pregnant."

You blush, giggling and squirming in your place. "Jesus, explicit much?"

He laughs, throwing his head back and baring a strong, wide neck you just want to kiss and bite all over.

"Oh, angel. I can be way more explicit. Can't, though. My baby girl here is an innocent bystander."

You huff. "Yeah, wouldn't want her to know her daddy is thinking dirty thoughts," you tease him.

He smirks at you, eyes dark. "Wouldn't want that."

You look to your side, hiding a smile.

"Are you here for some vacation or to stay?," you ask quietly, your eyes darting to the way his baby blinks up sleepily at him, her grip on the bottle slacking with the last drops of milk.

He hums, walking closer to you until you feel both his and his baby's body heat from the little space between you.

"To stay. Why?" His question is said in a rough, low tone, his voice scratching some part of your brain that makes it go a bit hazy.

"We could see each other again?," you ask hopefully.

His eyes scan you from head to toe, slowly and heatedly. "I'd like that, baby," he purrs.

Your heart skips a bit, the baby's small yawn waking you from the trance he has you on. You jump a bit.

"She's done."

He smiles. "Yeah, would you mind me staying a bit? The hotel's check in is a bit later."

You nod your head before he can even finish. "You can," you say breathlessly.

With a sharp smile, he throws the bottle towards the big couch in the middle of your home, his hand sliding towards your face, gently tracing your cheekbone.

"Great. Maybe we could get to that baby making stuff. Without an actual baby resulting from it," he wiggles his eyebrows.

You laugh, turning red. You can't believe you said that and he just rolled with it.

With a small nod, you agree. "Yeah, maybe."

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron blurb #outer banks fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x yn #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron one shot #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x yn #r.c. fics #my fics #my r.c. fics

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stellar-bluelock · 4 months ago

Text

until the world knows your name ☆ itoshi rin x reader

On the night of the U-20 vs. Blue Lock XI exhibition match, you will never forget the way everyone's jaw drops when you ask where Itoshi Rin is.

"Rin?" Someone asks in confusion. "You wanna see him?"

You hear the other members whisper, but you're not that surprised.

If Rin hasn't changed throughout his stay in Blue Lock, it makes sense for his teammates to question how confidently you request for his presence.

"Uh, he was in the locker room when I saw him last. I don't know if he's still there...or if he's in the mood to see any visitors?"

Ah. The celebrated striker of the night, Isagi Yoichi.

"That's not unlike him," you respond. "But, could anyone tell him that I'm here to see him?"

One of the blue-haired members volunteers—a quick memory of remarkable passing abilities flashes in your mind. He asks for your name before returning inside the main building.

The chilly air bites at your face as you wait. For a few moments, silence hangs heavy in the atmosphere.

Well, up until someone opens their mouth. The dam breaks.

"Are you Rin's friend?"

"A secret sibling we didn't know about?"

"Significant other?"

"Guys, don't bother them."

You chuckle, a little amused at their curiosity.

(You'll never admit it, but there's a selfish joy you feel from being someone that Rin can trust wholeheartedly.)

"Best friend."

Your answer effectively cuts off their stream of questions—for a few seconds, at most.

The concept of Rin having a best friend seems entirely foreign to them.

"You're..."

"Wait, they're looking for Rin, right? Not Sae?"

"Are you also friends with Sae?"

"What the heck happened between those two-"

Oh, that's not territory they can cross.

"I won't entertain any other questions, sorry." You smile, perhaps a little too sweetly. "But anyway, congratulations on the game."

Some of the boys pout at being denied the chance to learn juicy information about their teammate; thankfully, they don't protest.

"Thanks, it was a tough one," Isagi states and you nod.

This is the first time you've met the striker, but your gut tells you that he's Rin's newest rival—if Rin's glare at the end of the match was anything to by.

"Even I couldn't tell how it was going to end," you admit. "You all had me at the edge of my seat."

"I was lucky to be in the right spot." Isagi pauses for a moment. "But, it only happened because Rin managed to get the ball."

He smiles but it falters for a moment. "I just wish that he was a little happier about the win, but at least he seems fired up!"

"That's Rin for you."

"Are you talking about me?"

At the sound of a new voice, everyone's head simultaneously turns to the facility's entrance.

Rin's eyes are narrowed in suspicion, but you see the way they widen a fraction when they land on you.

(You're not sure if anyone ever notices, but you always do.)

"Yes. I was looking for you."

"You should've gone home. It's getting late."

A few scandalized gasps escape from the group, but a quick glare from Rin shuts them up.

"Uh, we'll leave you to it...nice meeting you!" Isagi laughs nervously, hastily pushing the rest of the team away.

You chuckle at the chaos while Rin scoffs. However, as the rest of the Blue Lock members disappear from sight, you can see his shoulders relax more.

It's just you two now.

As you look at his expression, you realize that it holds a wild mix of emotions. You can't tell what it is just yet.

So, you start with what you know.

"What did Sae tell you on the field?"

The frown is immediate.

"Piece of shit," he seethes. "Didn't even acknowledge me. Talked to me just to praise that stupid Isagi."

You click your tongue. When you were all kids, Sae was never the best with words and talking to others.

(Even then, you find yourself wondering what the hell happened to him in Spain.)

"Just because he scored that damn goal." Rin clenches his fists. "The whole team was centered around me and my attack ability. I got that ball!"

He lowers his head, shaking in frustration. "But nothing. Everyone's cheering his name. Even my shitty brother would rather talk about him."

Hesitantly, you reach a hand out to brush his bangs to the side. Out of instinct, you nearly want to tell him that everything will be okay.

That's what you used to tell him in middle school; a bad match, a bad score on a test, a scolding from his parents, a minor injury, even small arguments with Sae.

But now...those words feel empty. Not when his life has truly turned upside down, for better or for worse.

"Rin?"

He hasn't pushed your hand away, so you get a clear view of his teal eyes, round and unguarded—the very ones that have been burned into your memory for years.

"Although your team won, you have every right to feel frustrated."

He sighs. "Finally. I've had enough of them telling me to cheer up."

"They've been pestering you all these months, huh?" You chuckle lightly.

"I'm sick of it. They keep thinking we're friends. We're not. They're all rivals. It's bullshit."

You recall Isagi trying to hug Rin on the field earlier, only to fail miserably; you can only imagine his and the others' futile attempts.

"Well, whatever the case, stay true to yourself, yeah?" You punch his arm lightly. "You are Itoshi Rin."

Though he doesn't smile, something in his eyes lights up.

"I am Itoshi Rin." He says quietly. "I don't need him. I'm not Itoshi Sae's little brother."

It almost seems like he's saying it to himself instead of you, but his statement makes you sigh in relief.

It's precisely what you (and perhaps Sae) wanted him to realize all this time.

"Yeah. You were never meant to live in his shadow. You're here to make a name for yourself. Rin, do you even know how many people in the world tuned in to this match?"

He shakes his head.

"It's all over the news. It's being streamed everywhere." You smile to yourself, recalling how excited you were to finally see him again.

"But listen, Rin. You held your own throughout the game. You scored a goal. You blasted through the U-20 defense. You managed that one-on-one with Sae. There are people out there that have their eyes on you."

You take his hands into yours, squeezing them gently.

"Whatever you feel about this match today, tomorrow, a week, or months from now, you need to keep them watching. Score the next goal, keep on playing. Don't stop until the world knows your name."

masterlist

#stellarwrites #first bllk fic hooray #so i wrote this like i was possessed? (not with my tongue out tho lol)#i might cry at this tomorrow afternoon but im trying to stop being a perfectionist #get rid of the writers block ykno #blue lock #bllk #itoshi rin #x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock oneshot #blue lock scenarios #fluff #blue lock fic #itoshi rin fic

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shinysobi · 4 months ago

Text

sleepless in busan

he's been running his whole life, and hadn't realized how tired he was.

well, this was supposed to be a collaboration that unfortunately fell through, but the image of diner owner jihoon was so stuck in my mind it refused to leave, so here we have chapter one of this monstrosity (don't even ask) I've yapped in everyone's dm's about this at this point. genre: angst, fluff, mentions of drinking and smoking a/n: to all the people whose inboxes I have invaded: kae @ylangelegy, tiya @gyubakeries, jay @ppyopulii and many, many more, I do hope you enjoy this as much as I did. Special thanks to jay who beta read this in record time, i love u my fellow woozidan listen to the playlist here w.c: 9.1k chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | masterlist

Verse one—haemul-tang.

Now, of course, there are methods to running a restaurant. Jihoon is perfectly aware of this, and yet, he has made it a personal mission to flout each and every rule of that (bar the safety precautions, because well, he isn’t an asshole, never mind what Jeonghan says. Jeonghan has to say an awful lot, apparently, because, and this is true, he’s been telling Jihoon about the apparent health and safety violations of his diner. Jihoon knows this is a false and untrue accusation, because the health department has been to visit once in the six months that Jihoon has been running his diner, and it has all been up to code. Likely, Jeonghan was trying to get underneath his skin by feeding him lies, and Jihoon cannot put it past Jeonghan simply lying to get ahead in the game. And unfortunately for him, Jihoon really cannot get angry with the man, because he simply has his best interests at heart, but he will use his God-given, natural right, to get pissed off and complain. A tiny little thing like friendship is not going to stand in the way of him complaining about Jeonghan, no matter what other people might say about him. He’s a grown adult now. And grown adults can complain about their best friends. And Jeonghan is the kind of person who would lie to get under Jihoon’s skin. Seeing him squirm is like a shot of dopamine for him.

“It doesn’t matter how good the food is, or if you’re being considered for an Orange Ribbon, Jihoon,” the offensive man in question is sitting at the bar at the moment, staring at Jihoon, infuriatingly attractive, “the state of this place is disgusting. This is probably the fourth time I’ve come to see you this week, and already it's filthy. Do yourself a favour and shut this down before you get inspected for a health code violation.”

Jihoon says nothing. Saying nothing in response is the easiest way to rile Jeonghan up, because after half a moment’s silence, he pipes up again, “you clearly hate running this place. Take my advice, and go back to your old job. You know, the one that you used to have, since you left everything and began a diner, of all things.”

Jihoon scoffs, rolls his eyes, and says, “what do you want me to go back to? Being a pianist? Being a performer? Or being a producer for the company? Because as far as I can recall, I am still doing that, just not in person. I still make songs. I’ve just stopped going into the spotlight.”

“Exactly. Do you know how much we spent trying to find you? You just dropped off of the face of the earth, without a single explanation as to where you were going or what you were going to do afterwards. People thought you had died, you know.”

“My parents knew where I was.” It is strange, how easily he slips back into being a petulant teenager in front of Jeonghan, who, when Jihoon had first met him, was a rather petulant teenager himself, but manages to not sulk too much, lest Jeonghan make fun of him, “and I was doing fine. I just didn’t want to deal with everything.”

“Your parents can keep a secret; I’ll give them that.” Jeonghan grouses, “I thought they were professional spies at some point, because nothing I said could make them open their mouths about why their only son dropped off the face of the earth after his contract—a very alluring contract that I fought with the company executives to secure for him—expired, and why he had not been picking up the calls of his friends.”

Jihoon has the self-awareness to look bashful. He was an asshole to all of them, he knows. Jeonghan was the one who was the most affected, but all the others—Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Minghao—he’s been a jerk to all of them, dropping off of the radar because he just couldn’t deal with the fame and what came with it. “I’m sorry about that.”

“What were you even doing for all those years?”

“I was doing things. Other things, not producing or playing the piano in front of a crowd.” Jihoon shrugs, “ran away to Paris. I Learned how to cook. Came back to Busan, opened this diner.”

“Man,” Jeonghan runs a hand over his face, “you used to love performing. And then you leave without a word, for years, and then I find you running a diner in the middle of Busan. What really is going on here, Jihoon?”

Jihoon sighs, “not today. Nothing I can tell you today, I’m afraid.”

Jeonghan nods, “fair enough, but you have got to come back to the industry.”

“I’m still writing songs!” he protests, “is that not enough? I said I’d still be producing, and I am making songs for the company. Is writing consecutive hits not good enough for you?”

“It sounds like it’s not good enough for you, man,” Jeonghan says, finishing his food and placing a ten-thousand-won bill on the bar, “keep the change. And for god’s sake, fire Soonyoung. Or at least, make him stop coming here. He’s going to ruin his public image if he starts serving people in your diner. Look at him, he’s putting food in front of people wearing a tiger-print apron.”

“He works without pay,” Jihoon replies, “there’s really nothing I can do about a person who comes in and volunteers their time. Also, the only way he said he was going to serve people was if he was allowed to wear the tiger print apron.”

Jeonghan lets out a long-suffering sigh, “at least make him go home at a normal time. It’s good that he’s spending his break away from people, but serving drinks and food in a diner owned by Lee Jihoon is not really the answer.”

And with that, Jeonghan is gone, and Jihoon is left alone, with three other people in the restaurant, two of them being served by an overenthusiastic Soonyoung wearing a striped apron. He really had meant to let everyone know about his whereabouts, really. Even after all those years of being at the company, being a pianist, then writing and producing songs, even after all of that took a toll on him, he had meant to let the people closest to him know.

But he hadn’t, and his relationships had suffered as a result.

“Jihoon,” Soonyoung drifts into his field of vision, an orange-striped monstrosity, “shouldn’t you be closing up shop? Last call should have been half an hour ago.”

“Hm,” he nods, “I’ll close up shop. You can go ahead, if you want to.”

“You don’t look good,” Soonyoung says, worry laced in his voice, “should I call someone? Jeonghan-hyung? Your mom?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Jihoon can feel the telltale signs of a migraine coming along, but he ignores it in favour of being nice to Soonyoung, because Soonyoung will definitely go and tell Jeonghan if Jihoon is not well, and he doesn’t think he can handle the emotional turmoil of dealing with Jeonghan on two consecutive days, “just go, I’ll clean and close up.”

“You already cleaned,” the other man points out, “you were cleaning before Jeonghan-hyung came by, and I finished the rest of it for you. You just need to wash the dishes from the last two customers and take out the trash, and you’ll be done.”

Jihoon stares at him, a newfound appreciation for Soonyoung colouring his vision. Yeah, screw what Jeonghan has to say about him working here, he’s going to let him work. If he likes it, let him do it. as long as it doesn’t interfere with his work and rest.

When he takes out the trash, Soonyoung having gone home earlier, sits in front of the diner, still wearing his work clothes, and takes out a cigarette. He really shouldn’t be smoking, but here he is, trying to get rid of a habit he had thought he’d left behind. So many people in his life—his parents, the record label execs, Jeonghan, Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Minghao, Soonyoung, now, and he’s managed to let down at least eighty percent of them, soundly. What was he thinking, opening up a homestyle diner in the middle of Busan? He knows why Soonyoung comes out here to work with him, even if his own house is in Namyangju. He’s aware of why Jeonghan has been running around to get him to come back to Seoul. But unfortunately for Jihoon, he enjoys the smell of the sea a bit too much. Likes Busan because he can wake up and go for a walk and have breakfast with his parents, come back to open the restaurant, and live a life that is enviable, perhaps. Hard, but enviable.

He presses the code to lock the doors, then pulls the shutters down. Time to clock out.

—

“No, Seungkwan, I refuse to go to your home for the holidays,” I tell the man sitting in front of me at the café, “I barely know your parents! Why would they want to host me for the holidays!”

“They love you already, noona,” the man wheedles, fully aware of the power of a handsome face, “please, they haven’t ever met a writer in real life.”

“I’m not a zoo animal to be paraded, Kwan. Besides, I have my own, very loving family, to get back to for the holidays.”

“But you won the Daesan literary award!” Seungkwan groans, “please, noona, it would mean so much to my parents if you came to visit them.”

Unfortunately, I’ve never really been able to say no to him, which is a weakness of mine that he exploits on the daily. Besides, who really contributed to the award? Was it me, who wrote the story, or was it Seungkwan, who found my manuscript languishing in a pile of rejected scripts and fought for it until it was published? I thanked him in my speech after I won, but it doesn’t seem enough.

“Fine,” I say, “I’ll go on the day after New Year. I can get a ferry or something.” Ugh. Never mind the fact that Seungkwan has something else brewing (he always has) in that mind of his, travelling the day after New Year, when all the roads are bound to be filled to the brim with people arguing, yelling, and trying to make their way to their own families, is not exactly my idea of heaven.

But, on the other hand, Seungkwan was my best (haters would say my only) friend, and I would actually enjoy his company, so I make a face, but make a purchase for a ticket to Jeju either way. I can always bully him into giving me a ride to his house after I land. I will have to make my excuses to slip away from my home, but I think my parents would be happier if I spent at least part of the holiday at a friend’s place rather than at theirs. It would stop the questions of ‘when are you getting married’, that’s for one.

I make a face at the amount of money I was being charged for single two-way ticket to Jeju, and I show the screen to Seungkwan, who pulls a frown of his own, “I’m taking that out of your pay check, Boo Seungkwan.”

“You don’t even pay me,” he counters, “and don’t pull that face. We all know why you’re even saying yes to this. You just don’t want to deal with your parents asking you when you’re going to get married.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“I’ve known you for three years, so it’s kind of obvious to me,” he preens, “are they still on your case about that?”

“They mean well,” I take a sip of the too-sweet boba tea, “but after a point, they get overbearing. Even they are aware of it, which makes me think that they’re just doing it on purpose.”

“And they still don’t know that you’re a writer?” Seungkwan has this look on his face, the one that I’ve dubbed ‘Incredulous Seungkwan Face’ where he has heard a piece of information so outrageous it cannot possibly be true, but here it is, in his face, as he tries to process it, “come on, at least tell them that you won an award! At least then they’ll stop asking you about when you are going to get a proper position at your job, and I don’t have to lie every time they ask me about it.”

“They ask you about it?” I groan, “I thought I told them not to bother you about anything, but they ask you about it.”

“They worry about you, that’s why,” Seungkwan sips on his coffee, “of all the writers I’ve met, you are the one who’s the most secretive, despite being one of the most famous.”

“You’ve been talking to more writers?” I gasp for dramatic effect, “cannot believe you are betraying me.”

Seungkwan gives me an unimpressed look, “As opposed to who is betraying you?”

I twiddle my thumbs. “You know, who else.”

“Never mind that,” Seungkwan sighs, “at least tell me that you’re coming to Jeju for New Year’s. I’ve already told my parents about you, so you know, no pressure.’

“Yeah, no pressure, you dumb shit,” I grumble, “I’m going to be terrified the whole time.”

Seungkwan laughs, before standing up to leave, and finally, I am all alone in the shop, with only my brain for company. Daesan Literary Prize. Until the previous month, I had no idea it was even a real thing, and when Seungkwan had called me up to deliver the news of my winning, I thought it was a prank call delivered to the publishing house. But it wasn’t, and now I am—well, what am I? a writer? An accomplished one? Someone who makes a fair bit of living from her craft?

Doubtful.

“Why are you based in Busan?” Seungkwan had asked me, when we met for the first time, an open question, that I had failed to answer, just stammered my way through a bunch of excuses that didn’t make sense to either of us, but at least he had accepted it, had not pressed further, had not asked the question, why do you avoid Seoul?

The boba shop is on the edge of the wharf, and I make my way to the sea, salty air whipping onto my face, realising, after a long time, ah, I miss my mom. It’s in times like these that I miss the days of my youth, when all I had were dreams clogging my senses, when I thought about nothing but becoming famous, being known for my writing. And when I’ve finally managed to achieve even a little bit of that goal, I hid away in the middle of a city where no one knew my name, or at least, even if they did, had the sense to look the other way. Seungkwan doesn’t press, doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t go beyond his limits. Even if he could, he never once asked me about the reason behind leaving.

My phone rings, “Hello?”

The familiar voice of my sister floats in through the speaker, “are you okay?”

Are you okay? There is an answer to this, but I’m not sure if I should be telling anyone about it, really, are you okay? Who am I to say I’m not, beg for love and attention and all the other things that come with the experience of being loved and cared for, to be an important person in anyone’s life?

“I’m fine,” I reply, kicking away a stray pebble, “just walking on the beach. It’s a Sunday.”

“You love that damn beach too much,” my sister grumbles, “even ran away from the city you were born and raised in, just to see the beach. Have you had your fill of it now? Aren’t you sick of seeing the same thing over and over again?”

“The sea changes every day, you know,” I laugh, “I come here every day to find a different person waiting for me, the same way that you have your family, I have the beach for myself.”

“I wish you would at least think about it, you know,” my sister sighs on the other end, “I just feel as though you’ve been running for years.”

“One has to stop at some point, right?” I laugh, “I’m fine, eonnie. I like it here, actually. The sea is—it’s comforting.”

“Do you want me to tell you about New Years?” she asks, still cautious, “or do you want to skip it this year?”

“I’ll come, don’t worry. Mom and dad will miss me if I didn’t show up at least once,” I laugh, “hey, at least we get mandatory leave those four days.”

“I thought you would have other plans.”

“Seungkwan invited me to go to Jeju for the New Years, so I’ll probably do that the day after New Years,” I say, “I don’t know, might cancel that. Would like to stay with my parents for the holiday, you know?”

“Mom and dad would be overjoyed if you went to a friend’s house for New Years,” she replies, “ah fuck, the kids are acting up again. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Bye.” She hangs up, and I stand there, in the middle of the beach, the sea a comfortable distance away from me, and wait a while.

I hate Seoul. Hate the bustle of it, hate how people move quicker than they need to, but who knows? Maybe they do need to move that quick, maybe they all have places to be, things to do, more important than the life of a twenty-something who does not know exactly where her dreams began and where her reality ended.

Most importantly, I hate how I miss it.

In the dying light of the sun, I kick away pebbles, hoping to find a different outcome for all this want inside of me, and come up with nothing.

—

Jihoon is scared. He’d been staring at the work computer in his room for an hour the past night, and all he ended up realising was wow, I’m fucked. He’s staring at the amount of drafts he has in his computer, titled neatly, with the day and time of composition (as if that really mattered, but Jihoon was a stickler) and really, he can’t sustain himself with recycled beats and old compositions he’d made in the earlier days of his contract with the company. He’s been unable to really make anything anymore, has essentially kept staring at the screen, unable to even make a single tune. It’s a far cry from the Woozi of his previous years, who had a new song to be presented for scrutiny at the company meetings every single week. Jeonghan might take offence, but he is not the one who has to craft songs, only has to present them, and he can wait a few more days.

Jihoon knows he’s good at making songs, he’s been called a genius far too many times for the term to not go to his head. Three years ago, just before his contract ended, he was awarded Producer of the Year and Songwriter of the Year, a distinction reserved for three people before him. He'd written around thirty songs that year, more than anyone else, and had his hands in the production process for at least twenty more. Writing songs came easy to him then, as easy as breathing. He could sit with a draft in the morning and be done by lunchtime.

And then breathing became difficult, so all he could do was clutch his chest and run.

Jihoon shakes his head, standing at the doorway to his apartment building, he has to get groceries for the restaurant today; the produce will be coming in a bit later than usual. Which means delays in the prep, which means delays in getting orders out. It’s funny, how he’s become accustomed to thinking like a restaurant owner, even though he had no idea about this stuff when he first started out, washing dishes in the back of a Parisian bistro, telling the whole world to fuck off just because he could. All of that was the bravado of a twenty-year old, someone who had enormous power thrust into their hands before they even realised the gravitas of it, and most of the time, people watch on in a sick sense of pleasure, hoping to see the other person drown.

And well, he was a good swimmer, but swimmers drowned too.

By the time he ends up finishing his prep for the day, there is only about ten minutes left for the lunch regulars to begin walking in, and he makes a face, realising, not for the first time, that running a restaurant, even if it’s a homey little diner on the edge of the Busan wharf, is a lot of work.

Soonyoung walks in halfway through the afternoon, rubbing his eyes as if he’s just woken up. He picks out his designated apron from the rack, and Jihoon averts his eyes because he cannot bring himself to be the one to tell him that the tiger-print is an atrocious one. In many ways, he’s grateful to Soonyoung, who works at the diner without asking for payment, just grateful to be able to hide away from the reporters in Seoul that seem to constantly be on his ass for something or the other. Soonyoung had entered the company when they were at the last stages of The Seventeen Project, something that was being touted as the 'next big thing' in k-pop since BTS. Jihoon was also dabbling in producing, sick and tired of the failure and the scrutiny. He had initially felt sad for Soonyoung, given how he was walking into a company that was on its dying breaths, desperate to try anything to get by. They all knew, the HR knew, the producers knew, hell, even the trainees knew. Production had seemed like a safer alternative at that time, and he was eager to do anything for a paycheck. Turns out, Soonyoung, or Hoshi, as he called himself, was the goose that laid golden eggs. Or was it Jihoon who was the goose? Either way, Hoshi’s popularity meant more work for Jihoon, more money for the company to be poured into the other struggling groups. When one succeeds, everyone gets a piece of the pie. Years later, and he was begging for his contract to end.

The shift is a slow one, meaning he has more time to think about his impending doom, where he is hunted down the sands of the beach by a group of company executives, headed by Jeonghan, who, inexplicably, has a contract termination notice for his diner in his hands. Jihoon knows it’s an unrealistic dream, but it does not keep it from shuddering in fear whenever his mind conjures up that image.

“One seafood stew,” Soonyoung sets down a ticket in front of him, jerking out of his thoughts, “should I say last call?”

Jihoon checks his wristwatch, already past midnight. He wants to keep the diner open a while more, but he still has to go home and decide on what to send Jeonghan for the upcoming deadline, something that he has been avoiding to the point that Jeonghan had to make the damn trip to tell him to fix his mistakes. He has to do something, or the tentative bit of goodwill that he has, will all go down the drain. At least he can talk to the others over the phone every once in a while, he won’t be able to do that either anymore.

“Last call,” he shouts over the counter, and the customers begin to stand up and leave, “Soonyoung, clean as much as you can, then leave the rest to me.”

“Ah, well, you see,” Soonyoung says, half-apologetic, because Jihoon knows how much he loves performing, “I’m going back to Namyangju tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Your vacation finished early?” he asks, keeping it light, “you stayed back longer this time.”

“Ah, you know, vacation is never really a vacation with these people,” Soonyoung laughs, “but, I’ll still be in touch, if you want me to.”

“Of course I want to remain in touch,” Jihoon laughs, “drive safe on the road back home, huh?”

“Sure, sure,” Soonyoung walks out of the door, “keep the apron for me, would you?”

“Fuck no.”

Soonyoung leaves, and Jihoon is alone, back in a void of his own making. He could just clean up before leaving, but Soonyoung is apparently a much more diligent worker than he had ever thought he would be, because he’s left a spotless kitchen and nothing for Jihoon to take care of, nothing that he can do in order to make himself feel useful. So, he sits at a corner table, looking out onto the beach. He’s been raised in this city for all his life, and yet he’s never really seen the city. He’s never even been on a Blue Line tour, for god’s sake.

With a sigh, he stands up, dusting off a table top. I’ve still got to go back home and work on a draft, useless as it might be. All these responsibilities are probably not good for him; his mother (and his doctor, but he fears his mother more) has warned multiple times against him overdoing it, but Jihoon is part of a group of people who just don’t know when to give up.

The bell rings, and even before he can stand up to look at the person walking into the store after hours, a voice rings out, “are you still open?”

Jihoon turns around, and he truly, really, fully intends to say “no, I’m afraid we are closed for the day,” but instead says, “why do you ask?” because the person in front of him, with the faint scent of cigarette smoke on her, looks straight out of a novel—hair windswept, eyes shining with unshed tears, the heroine of all his dreams brought to life.

If she was a song, she would be—

—

Social media is a disease. I keep repeating that to myself, walking along the wharf. I’m happy now, social media is a disease. I should have never really gone on Facebook after work ended, instead I should have done some overtime work to at least assure myself of remaining in the same company for another year. Unfortunately, I had the bright idea to go online, where by some cruel twist of fate, there they were, happy, married couples who wanted to show themselves off to the world because they can, and they don’t have anyone else to think of when they post happy pictures or whatever.

As I stared at the photos of the gorgeous destination wedding, because of course, who can stop themselves from doing horrible things, all I can think of is university, years ago, perhaps the last time I felt any real sort of happiness.

Don’t contact me ever again.

Hope you heal from whatever you are going through.

The subtext was clear, and try as I might, I could not get anyone to tell me outright, you’re a bitch. You’re a bitter, insecure bitch, and I hope you never find happiness again. Then again, that would not have come off very nice over text.

I lean against a shop, lighting up a cigarette, but the words don’t leave my mind. Hope you heal. How many times does one have to be on the opposing ends of people leaving them to realise that maybe, just maybe, they are the problem themselves? Your ex-partner was a piece of shit and you tolerated all his actions. That makes you even more of a terrible person in my opinion, even if you left him, because at the end of the day, you are a bitter person.

The worst part is I agree with it, all the accusations that are basically condemnations, I agree with them all. I smoke too much, I’m insecure, I don’t have the courage to even talk to anyone properly.

“Ah, fuck,” I mutter, because of course the tears are coming right now, hard and fast when there is no one around to even see it because if no one sees my tears, are they even real? I’m tired, hungry, and overstimulated from the workday, and all I want is a place where I can settle down and think nothing until I get something to eat. Except it’s after midnight, and every shop in a fifty-metre distance from me is wrapping up their workday, closing down shutters and leaving to go back home.

There’s only one shop open on the beach, and I walk towards it, harsh ocean winds ruffling my hair. The bell makes a noise when I step in, announcing my presence to the only other person inside the space, the owner of the store.

“Are you still open?” I ask, and he turns back to look at me, and in the warm yellow glow of the shop light, the man seems like he’s been waiting for me all along, with his kind face, and the soft way he tells me, why do you ask? Instead of just declining outright. Am I overthinking again? Probably.

I take a deep breath. “I just—I saw you were open, and I didn’t feel like having a meal from a convenience store again.”

He laughs at that, “no, no we really don’t, because convenience store meals are the scourge of every working person’s stomach lining, aren’t they?”

I say nothing in response, and he turns back to the kitchen, “We only have the seafood stew left, if that’s okay?”

“Seafood stew is fine, actually,” I take a seat at the bar, staring at the man who’s preparing my meal. A philosophy professor in university had once told me, that one of the ways to get to know anyone, is to look at them from behind once. People have their defences up when you look them in the eye, and they tend to hide themselves away from you. Every time you look them in the eye, they have their ways to deflect, no matter how truthful they are. Everyone has some sort of secret they want to keep, even from themselves. When you look at someone from behind, everything becomes visible—the way their shoulders drop when they walk away from you, the telltale signs that give away their hurt and their anger.

Looking at this man, with his starched white shirt, probably ironed carefully in the morning, preparing a meal for me, I can think of only one thing.

Ah, this man. He looks so lonely.

I’m not unfamiliar with loneliness, given the general trajectory of my life, but this man, he seems to have made the loneliness his own. It’s almost as if he does not want to move away from the dark cloud that hangs around him, as if he’s made himself comfortable in the blanket of his own self, to the point that I don’t think he even registers that he has people around him.

Or maybe, it isn’t your fucking problem, a voice tells me, one that sounds uncannily like my tormentors, because what else could top off this truly delightful moment? If it's not your problem, then don’t go around poking your nose in other people’s business. You’ve done enough; let it go.

The problem is, I’m not good at letting go, and haven't ever been good at it, even as a child. Screaming and crying over old books being given away or sold; keeping record of every moment in my life until it became too much for my diary. Letting go of people was easy; letting go of myself was difficult.

And yet, you’ve managed to run away from your old life, to a place you barely know. Haven’t you been practicing the art of letting go?

“Seafood stew,” the man says, placing a steaming stone bowl in front of me, “here you go.”

“Wait, aren’t you about to close?” I ask, a wave of guilt coming over me suddenly, “ah, shit, I’ll make sure to eat it fast.”

“Unless you want to end up in the ER tonight, take your time,” he replies, “Although, since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you know one thing: you’re also eating my dinner, in case you wanted to, maybe, tip me some more.”

I stare at him, half in disbelief, half in wonder, until he begins to laugh, “don’t worry, the house dinner is secure, so you don’t really have to give up half your food.”

“Half my food? How aren’t you sure I didn’t want to give the whole thing up?”

He laughs again, pointing to the bag sitting beside me, forgotten altogether in the process of sitting down, ordering, and whatever else that entailed, “you’re an office worker, on their way back from working, roughly six hours overtime, and you look like you haven’t had a single bite of food since the morning. Of course you were not going to give up the whole meal, I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“Hence, half.”

“Hence, half of the meal,” he smiles, “and here I’m being generous.”

I narrow my eyes, but take a spoon and dig in anyway. It’s a seaside diner, I tell myself, there’s no way you’re going to find a Heston Blumenthal hiding in the sands. It’s humble fare, the kind you like.

The first bite, and I want to kick myself for being this wrong. It’s a homely dish, no doubt, but the workmanship behind the dish is exquisite. It's simple, clean, the aftertaste of it not too overpowering. It’s a reminder of Busan, the sea present within the three spices he had used—chilli powder, soy sauce, and soybean paste. It's subtle, briny, and delicious. I used to consider myself a gourmet, because at one point in time, I used to be rich enough to eat at good restaurants (and I enjoyed it), but after this dish has announced its presence on my tongue, I don’t think I can really say that I’ve had anything as good as this.

“You look like you’re enjoying it,” the man says, smiling, “is the stew that good, or are you just starved?”

“Both,” I muse, “it has been a long day.”

“That makes two of us,” he grins, “care to unburden yourself?”

I narrow my eyes. As good as this dish is, I doubt I want to tell my life story to this man, who I have known for all of half an hour. For all I know, he could be a serial killer, using this diner as a front to get intel on his next victim. Also, why the hell would anyone listen to the story of a person who has been abandoned by her entire social circle? How much loss can be contextualised? At what point do I have to come to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe, I am the problem?

“Don’t worry, I’m not a serial killer,” he laughs, and adds on, to my horrified expression, “I realised that maybe asking for your life story without knowing you properly, might be a bad idea.”

“A self-aware man, I see.”

“A rarity these days, no doubt.”

I sigh, choosing not to reply, and busy myself with eating, keenly aware of him observing my every move. It’s awkward, but not entirely unwelcome. Despite watching my fair share of true crime documentaries, I don’t stand up and storm out of the diner, instead I stare right at him, realizing, however belatedly, he has beautiful eyes.

“Unburdening can be hard, I’ve come to realise.” He says, after a pause.

“Why? Is running a diner that hard?” I laugh, “you have the sea right in front of you.”

“The sea is not always benevolent,” he replies, “sometimes, the diner is tiring.”

I hum, “I understand. Adulthood seems to be a series of exhausting events, one after the other, with pockets of small happinesses scattered in the middle.”

“Happiness seems to be hard to come by,” he nods, “I keep forgetting why it was that I opened up a shop here, of all places. It’s on days like these, that I need a violent reminder.”

“Do you want me to shake you by the collar?” He laughs at that, and I feel a sense of pride, because I made him laugh. When was the last time I did that? “Happiness might be difficult to come by on most days, but it's not impossible to find, as you can see.”

“What do you mean?”

I take a deep breath, “I live my days on small, certain happinesses. Moments throughout the day, when I can think to myself, "ah, this existence is not too bad.”

“Moments like?”

I hold out my hand, “when I get my favourite chocolate milk from the store in the morning, I’m happy. When my mother calls me just because she missed me, I’m happy then too. Right now, I’m eating delicious stew. All this makes me happy, in small moments. One day, I think that these small moments of happiness will build up enough for me to live the rest of my life in relative comfort.”

“And this will be enough for you?”

“Well, it all depends on the kind of person you are,” I reply, shrugging, “and the kind of situation one is in; most people try to find as much happiness as they can, even in situations that would have broken their spirits otherwise. It’s just important to, you know, have hope.”

“You sound suspiciously like one of those late 2010’s Keep Calm and Go On posters,” he narrows his eyes, and I snort, “cannot believe I’m on the receiving end of hope-core propaganda.”

“Funny you should mention hope-core,” I wipe my nose with a tissue, “I learnt the meaning of the word from the intern at the office, just this morning, actually.”

“Ah, so you’re fully qualified to give me advice,” he grins, “Soonyoung was the one to explain that to me.”

“He sounds like he’s got his finger on the pulse of today’s youth,” I nod, “or at least, that is what my boss would have said, if he had heard those words. Seeing as he is not here, I will take this opportunity to act as a stand-in.”

He laughs, “Your boss seems great.”

“He’s—surprisingly nice, given how he has to put up with all my tantrums and issues.” I shrug, and he places a glass of tea in front of me, “as an employee, I think I am also obligated to tell you that I have the best boss in the world.”

“You don’t really have to say that,” he says, now wiping down the counter, “Soonyoung probably does not have a single good thing to say about me, but I still keep him employed here. Most bosses don’t really care what kind of people you are, as long as you get the work done.”

I sigh, yeah, there’s the actual problem. I’m behind on work, and everyone else has to pay the price because of me.

It must show on my face, my feelings, because as much as I would like to brag about my poker skills, it’s evident, my discomfort. This man does not prod, instead, offers me another tissue with a smile. He doesn’t push, and I don’t reveal anything. It’s bad manners, really, to be spilling all your secrets to someone you’ve barely met, and within the first half-hour too.

The seafood stew is finished by this point, and I stand up, pushing a ten-thousand won bill towards him, and he fixes me with a look. I shrug, holding it out, “For the haemul-tang,” I say, smiling, “and for listening to my woes.”

“If I took money from the girl who gave me bad millennial advice, I’d be ruining the sanctity of this kitchen,” he says, so seriously I cannot even bring myself to laugh, “come by another time when I have more to offer than the leftovers of the day, and then I’ll take your money. Not before that.”

I make a face, “nothing in life is free, is it? Because now, I have to come back to your diner once more, in order to get my money’s worth.”

“I’ll make sure to serve you my best dish, that day.” he says, and I laugh, because apparently this man doesn’t only make good seafood stew, he also makes other dishes that are, presumably, just as good, “what is it?”

He smiles, conspiratorial, “well, you’ll have to come by again to find out.”

“And if I simply abscond? What if I never come back again?” I stare at him, lit warmly under the lights, soft, yellow, almost ethereal. This was the kind of encounter people fantasised about, wrote about, thought about incessantly. This was what dreams were made of. He’s smiling at me now, because for all the bad things in the world, sometimes, you do get to meet a stranger and even strangely, you both connect on some level that neither of you really understand. If I could, I can stride forward to the bar, and ask him for his number, something I do not really think he will be averse to. I could just do it, establish a connection with someone. And it would not even take a lot of effort, just a conversation. A few lines of words, spoken easily, lightly, as though it did not matter. I could do this. There was no reason I had to remain lonely in this city, when I could have a singular friend to talk to, on nights like these.

Do you even deserve this?

I take a step back, and the back of my knee collides painfully with a chair. I wince, and before he can come to my aid, grab my jacket and bag. “I’ll come by again—” are the only words I manage to say, before opening the door and stumbling out onto the street. God, its fucking cold. If I could just reverse the flow of time, I would never go into that damn restaurant, never would have struck up a conversation with anyone, least of all that man. Someone whose name I don’t even know, someone who (hopefully) will no longer be here when I take a walk on the beach tomorrow.

Before coming to this city, I had not really thought of myself as someone who was cut out to make large decisions. In fact, I thought of myself as perfectly average, right in the middle of the pecking order, someone whose existence brought neither great joy, nor great suffering. The middle ground between two warring sides, and apparently fooling no one. Busan had not even been on the radar before, had not even been in any of the plans I liked to draw up when I was a child, ranging from “World -famous chef” to “President of the United States of America” (yes, I know, that one was a mistake. I wasn’t aware we needed to be old men to be considered for that role). Nowhere in those crudely written crayon drawings had I put the words “Small-time editor for a company in Busan”. I suspect if I put it in one of those sheets, my elementary school teacher would have called my parents, because there was no way that the girl with the best grades in the school would imagine becoming a lowly office worker in a mid-tier city.

Unfortunately, I woke up one morning, four years ago, and decided that Seoul was simply too oppressive for me, and I needed to leave. It was nothing as dramatic as running away in the middle of the night, which was a pivotal point in one of the stories shared by my batchmates on a class outing. Imagine being subjected to a half-drunk woman rambling about the time she was almost robbed at knifepoint, and framing it as a heartwarming story of youthful problems, as something everyone did, at least once in their lives. “How else did you cope with the stress of the exam?” Because apparently, getting into one of the most prestigious universities in the country implies you had to have been in the throes of extreme irrationality as a teenager, or else it does not count. No, my act of leaving was as boring and adultlike as possible, practical and dry, to the point where people did not really understand why I left. That ruse lasted a while, of course, until the rumours began to grow so insistent that no one, not even my mother, that most oblivious of women, made the trip to Busan and insisted on staying with me for a whole week. She didn’t believe them, of course, and asked me only once, on the final day, I’m hearing things about you, you know. Are they correct? I don’t believe them, but I’m asking you again.

They’re not correct, mom, I had said, feeling only slightly sad at lying this blatantly, I do not know what you are talking about, and I know that is not correct.

And my mother had believed me, but a false rumour is only marginally worse than a half-true rumour. And even if they were not true, why did you run? Why did I run, when it meant that everyone could point their fingers at me and say you ran, therefore you are guilty. On what count, we do not know. But you are guilty. And you will remain guilty, for the rest of your life.

I light up another cigarette, walking rapidly away from the diner. The chill in the air has become worse, with the winds sharp enough for me to huddle into my coat as I make the short distance home, five minutes away, but I smoke two cigarettes before I even step foot into the building, and a third is halfway to my mouth as I punch the code in the lock.

You’re gonna die of that one day, man. At least put the cancer sticks away.

I flick the lighter even before I reach for the lights.

—

She smelled strongly of cigarettes, Jihoon noticed, out of everything she did, it was the cigarette smoke that stood out to him, heavy and surprisingly, slightly comforting. She was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger, but—the spicy smell of Dunhill cigarettes, a cross between clove and mint ones, that, that was a scent he was familiar with, years of suffocating boardrooms and producing studios that seemed to be made for the express purpose of forcing him to bend to the will of the executive members. The faint tobacco smell was a reminder of the years he spent in that company, giving up on his youth to chase his dreams. They’d all stopped smoking after a while—him, Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Minghao. Or at least, he thought they had. He can’t be sure anymore.

He'd been at his work table for hours in the morning, with little to no work done, but his hands reach for the headphones of their own accord, now, and he starts humming a tune under his breath. It’s a wistful tune, one that would have Jeonghan breathing down his neck, but for once in a while, Jihoon finds himself incapable of caring. Sure, he has to make an upbeat boy group song, and what he’s doing is an indie ballad. But also, he’s been steadily running out of his saved drafts, and Jeonghan would have become aware of it, one day or the other.

He's got only a rudimentary beat done, but it's more work than what he has had in months. It’s a soft progression, reminiscent of the indie songs of the late 80’s, and Jihoon wonders if he should compose a city-pop song for the new female soloist from the company. He could get away with it too, sending over unauthorised songs. Anything will work, as long as the company gets their check.

Jihoon, did you hear? You’ve been nominated for Producer of the Year.

Jihoon, make sure you’re present at the meeting tomorrow.

Jihoon, I’m sorry but you’re not a good fit for the debut team.

Jihoon, make sure you get that track finished by next week.

He leans back into the chair, heaving a sigh. It was destined to crash and burn from the start, wasn’t it? Late nights, strict deadlines, short breaks. Jihoon was on top of the world, but it took mighty little to get him to come crashing down. All of a sudden, he was in a strange city, with no one to talk to him, but more importantly, no one to answer to. How pathetic was my life, if I only managed to taste freedom at the age of twenty-six?

But today, she was there, standing in front of him, and Jihoon had felt, for the first time in a long while, a strange sense of déjà vu—or was the feeling merely camaraderie? That they knew each other, or some level, even if they had never met each other before. She reminded him of a time when he knew nothing but work, cigarette smoke enveloping her like a crowd of despair. And she’d seemed sad, too. Sad enough to not look at him when she spoke.

He'd never managed to get her name; she had come into the diner, into his life, and disappeared with nothing but the faint trace of her habits behind her. He’s never really wanted to know someone this desperately. He could ask someone for help, but his parents would probably ask him to sit back and do nothing at all.

She’d said one thing that had stuck out to him. One day, I think that these small moments of happiness will build up enough for me to live the rest of my life in relative comfort. Even in his moments of despair and depression, he had had support. His parents were there, rallying behind him, keeping their mouths shut about his whereabouts because they knew that Jihoon was not well. He’s one of the lucky ones, the people who had both money and a good family to fall back on, a fact that he says his prayers daily for. All he had to do was tell them I’m not doing well, dad, and they had opened their arms to shield him from the rest of the world while he recuperated. Small amounts of happiness, she’d said. What were his small doses of happiness? To be able to get dinner with his parents every two days? His father, a stoic man who didn’t take off the watch Jihoon had given him—his first present—for a whole month, and his mother, the woman who had been the one to put him in his first piano class, the person who kick started his career, essentially, to be able to be a good son to them, to be a filial person, is that happiness? He thought he was happy, at one point, when he was cranking out a song in two hours and being lauded for it, when he had the high life, going from country to country every year, aspirational discretionary income stored in a platinum account.

Are you doing well? You look—

I’m fine.

He’d repeated the words so many times that he had started believing them. I’m fine. I can do it. This doesn’t bother me; words that made no sense to him, yet happened to come out of his mouth on a daily basis, and what was funnier was that everyone seemed to believe his obvious lies.

He has things to do for the next day; keep track of purchases and go to the market to get things wholesale, banal duties that keep him sane, except Jihoon cannot focus on anything but her right now. You’re going insane, Jeonghan would say, except Jeonghan isn’t here to save his ass right now, is he? It’s just Jihoon at the moment, going slightly insane, apparently.

He’s going to find her tomorrow; more accurately, he has to. She owes him the price of her seafood stew.

—

I wake up before my alarm rings, apparently trained better than a soldier. The morning is crisp, calm, and bright, and as I make myself a coffee before stepping out of the house, I’m hit with a pleasant breeze through one of my many windows. Seungkwan has left me a message in my inbox, sent at three in the morning.

“Remember, you’re supposed to send in your first article by next week. We’ve worked really hard for this serialisation, so don’t miss the deadline, although I’m sure you won’t, because you understand my problems, anyway, remember the deadlines, please.”

I’d almost forgotten about this. The serialisation was a big deal for Seungkwan, since my mainstream success meant the same for him, as my editor. He was the one who worked for the pitch; sending in letters to the chief of the department, begging them to give me a chance. The fact that it was only approved after I’d received an award, doesn’t take anything away from his hard work.

The call to Seungkwan goes through immediately, and his sleep-deprived voice floats through the phone line, “What’s up?”

“What’s the deadline for the serialisation?”

“No mincing words, I see,” he mutters, “next week.”

I sigh. Next week. I’ll have to come up with an idea and a way to execute it, all within a week. “At least tell me if there’s a brief.”

“Brief?” he’s immediately wide awake, “don’t tell me—you haven’t even written anything yet?”

“Besides the point. Just tell me if there’s a brief.”

“That’s the whole point! If you have no idea what to write, man, I don’t know how to say this, but I might lose my job.”

Now it’s my turn to be speechless, because what the fuck does he mean, “What?”

Seungkwan sighs, “look, I really didn’t want to tell you this, but I did bet my job on your column. Sure, the award was a good push, but the Editor still didn’t want to give it to you. Our best writer used to write this column, and now—”

“Now he’s dead,” I reply, “yes, I’m aware, Seungkwan, that my opportunities depend on the timely passing of literary greats.”

“Good god, and now I’m late for work. Just remember you have until next week for the deadline. And write something fun, new age, one that the readers will relate to. We’re already losing subscribers to the magazine as is.”

“Ugh,” I open my mouth to tell him some more, but unfortunately, he’s cut the call, desperate to get to his job on time, and I’m left, standing in the middle of the street, because fuck it’s no longer my writing that’s on the line, it’s Seungkwan’s job as well.

taglist: @facethesunflower @hisnowbie2

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nathanbatemanfucker · 4 months ago

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REMY!!! REMYYYYYY

"Beyond Misconceptions" is EXACTLY what I needed today oh my GOD my anxiety has been acting up and this was such a tonic 🥹

The fact that Joaquin is the kind of lover to truly and selflessly go "if you'd be better off with someone else, then I want that for you even though it would break my heart" but then he is so comforted I'M CRYING I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC SO MUCH

Also, bc you said requests are open, if it's not too much to ask... could we maybe get something where Joaquin is very serious about reader and wants to introduce her to Sam and has a convo w Sam about how he feels? Idk if that's too sappy ofc you don't have to im just swooning thinking about it 👀 - ips anon

Between Sips

about this: wc: 658, characters: joaquin torres, sam wilson (f!reader mentioned), contents: alcohol mention, canon typical injury, joaquin’s a simp, SAMBUCKY if you squint, an: hope u enjoy this my sweet love & as always thank you for your support! <3

danny ramirez characters masterlist

Joaquin stands up from his desk, walking across the room to plop down on Sam’s. “Hey, come get a drink with me.”

“Man, I’m going home. To bed. You see this?” Sam points to the sling his arm is in.

Joaquin raises a brow at him, “What if I add in pizza?”

“Dude—“

“I wanna tell you about my girl. Please?” He presses his palms together, pleading.

“Oh now you wanna tell me about your girl? After I’ve got a couple of broken ribs?”

Joaquin tries to bite away his grin but can’t. “You getting the shit beat out of you kinda made me realize I want you to meet her.”

“Little shit— you’re getting me dessert too,” Sam grumbles, grabbing his bag and heading toward the door.

“That late night cookie place is right across the street,” Joaquin calls after him.

—

Sam watches Joaquin fidget with a smirk on his face. He’s never really seen the man like this, he’s always overly confident. “So, you gonna stall until the food gets here to stall again or—“

Joaquin’s grip on his beer tightens as he gazes down into the amber liquid. “Nah, man. I just, I don’t know— I’ve never met anyone like her before.”

Sam sobers a little bit, realizing how serious Joaquin is. Sitting up, he leans in a little, curious.

“Tell me more.”

Joaquin takes a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “It was kinda random, y’know? One of those things where you meet someone and think, this person might change my damn life.”

Sam raises a skeptical brow, waiting.

“I met her on a mission—nothing crazy, just some intel work. She clocked me right away, which should’ve been my first clue she was special.” Joaquin huffs a small laugh, shaking his head.

“She’s got this way of looking at me, like she already knows what I’m gonna say before I say it. And she’s funny, man. Not just funny—sharp. Quick with it. Keeps me on my toes. But she’s also… sweet. Kind in a way that doesn’t ask for anything back. And when I’m with her, it’s like—” He stops, searching for the words.

Sam tilts his head. “Like what?”

Joaquin’s grip tightens on the beer again. “Like I don’t have to be anyone but me.”

Sam lets out a low whistle. “Damn.”

Joaquin laughs, feeling a little shy. “Yeah. Damn.”

“Can I see her?”

“Yeah, hold on,” Joaquin fishes out his wallet, pulling out the photo booth film strip he keeps there.

Four photos, all of them where he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you— not when you were looking so angelic. Looking at the photo along with Sam makes him miss you more right now.

“Oh, she’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

“I…I would do anything for her. I think anything, for real.”

“Would she do the same?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Sam nods, taking a pull of his beer. “And have you told her yet?”

“Told her what?”

“That you’re in love with her.”

Joaquin’s cheeks warm. He scratches at the back of his head with a sheepish smile. “Was hoping you could give me some pointers?”

Sam sighs. “Maybe I can finally give you some after this weekend.”

“Finally gonna tell him, huh?”

“Yeah, I think it’s about time. He’s got a weekend off appearances, we don’t have a mission. I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, letting his eyes drift to the mounted tv screen playing an old sports game.

“It’ll be perfect man. Just be yourself.”

Sam scoffs playfully, his eyes returning to Joaquin. “How’d you end up giving me pointers?”

Joaquin shimmies his shoulders. “Must be the natural leader in me.”

“Yeah, yeah. So when am I meeting her?”

“I don’t know, let me pull up our calendar,” Joaquin starts to type in his password, scrolling through the date.

“Our calendar? As in your shared calendar with her?”

“Fuck off.”

Sam can’t stop laughing. “I can’t wait to tell Buck.”

lmk if you'd like to be on the sfw (or nsfw for 18+) joaquin taglist!

sfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath, @arsonhotchner, @moonymeloncholymoney, @sidkneeeee, @galaxywannabe, @retrosabers, @marchingicenotes7

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #sam wilson #sambucky #joaquin torres fanfiction #joaquin torres imagine #captain america: bnw fanfiction #arson writes #al's mail request #ips anon #replies #thank u honey for this request and i hope you're feeling better <3 #al’s mail requests

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minisugakoobies · 3 months ago

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hello! mingyu for the 🤍 pls!! thank u <3 :)

🤍 [ Wedding ] - A romantic kiss shared during a wedding ceremony

Okay, anon, first of all, I’m thrilled you wanted a Mingyu drabble from me, thank you. Second, I know that I stretched the word “ceremony” here, but just go with it. I couldn’t help it, that’s where the prompt took me! Third, I once again failed to keep this to a short drabble 🤷‍♀️ As if we didn't know I was a wordy bitch. I hope you enjoy! 💕

Pairing: Mingyu x Reader (no agab) Genre: fluff, established relationship, Wedding!AU Rating: T Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: mingyu is referred to as 'husband' but reader is not given any pronouns or gendered in any way, kissing, mentions of drinking, it's very soft and sweet because i think about husband!mingyu and i just melt, special guest appearances by Seokmin and Seungkwan Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don't own svt - they just inspire me

**********

Halfway through your wedding reception, you escape.

The cake has been cut and the dance floor is filled with your drunk friends and even drunker relatives. The entire evening flew by like the birdseed your guests pelted you and Mingyu with when you walked hand-in-hand down the aisle. You’d love a minute to stop and soak it all in - you and Mingyu are married. You’re his and he’s yours, until death do you part.

But you don’t get so much as a second to breathe as yet another one of his relatives comes up to congratulate you and offer some terrible marriage advice. If you took a shot every time you heard “Don’t go to bed angry,” tonight, your body would be about 60% vodka by now. Instead, you’re too sober for your own comfort as you pretend to laugh at another goofy joke.

Mingyu, standing a few feet away where two of your great aunts have cornered him to ask about his thoughts on giving them some great-great-grandnieces, laughs harder, louder, and faker than you do, audible even the combined chaos of a live band and your family at an open bar event. You catch his eye and raise your eyebrows, hoping that will communicate the ‘take it down a notch’ message that fails to send telepathically.

He grins back, shrugging a little. He can’t help it if he’s too charming. It’s just how he is, how he’s always been, ever since your family moved in next door to his when you were in grade school. He was your first friend in town, drawing you in with his bright smile, and soon the two of you were inseparable.

Mingyu’s attention is drawn to his smartwatch and his grin widens. He says something to your aunts to excuse himself to join you, greeting his uncle with a bow. Thankfully, said uncle runs out of advice not long after that, and you turn to Mingyu with a sigh.

“I need a drink. And some more cake.”

Mingyu takes your hand in his and squeezes sympathetically. “I could use a break too. Why did we invite so many people?”

“We didn’t. They did.”

Your parents and his parents became friends almost as quickly as you and Mingyu did. It was common for your families to hang out, even vacationing together occasionally. The Kims became a second family to you, and yours was the same to him. You and Mingyu grew around each other, like trees with entangling limbs. It wasn’t long before love took root.

It only made sense to get married in his backyard, then have the reception in your parents’ yard. And they were only too happy to host. Which shows in the size of the ceremony and the bounty of the reception. You’re thankful, but you hadn’t realized just how much time you would be spending with everyone other than your husband tonight.

“Oh, right.”

“I’m gonna hit the bar before anyone stops me. Do you want a drink?”

“Actually, I’ve got a better idea.” He nods toward the far side of the yard. “Check it out.”

Two of Mingyu’s groomsmen, Seokmin and Seungkwan, have taken the tiny stage in your parents’ backyard with the band your parents hired to play. As they launch into some old jazzy pop standard, a crowd grows on the dance floor. You notice that the front row is all of your aunts as well as your mother and your now mother-in-law. That tracks - Mingyu’s college choir friends were always catnip to ladies of a certain age.

“You know I love your old choir setlists as much as the next noona, but what exactly are Seok and Kwan doing?”

“Creating a diversion at my request.” Mingyu squeezes your hand again. “Wanna get out of here?”

Mingyu’s the one who convinced you to sneak out the first time. There’s a playground in your neighborhood, where the two of you would run around playing games and swing on the swing set. One summer night, when you were on the cusp of being a teenager, he talked you into climbing out your window a few hours after bedtime and going there with him.

As the two of you navigated high school and fell into different friend circles, you still met at the playground at night. Playing games turned into talking, venting and confiding in one another, and the playground became your safe haven.

Thanks to Mingyu’s friends, who have the crowd singing along at this point, no one notices when you slip around the side of the house and out onto the street. Mingyu leads you by the hand most of the way, just like he did that first night, after you told him you didn’t realize it would be so dark outside and got a little spooked by some shadows.

It’s been years now since you’ve been to the playground. The equipment looks the same but the wood chips that scraped the fuck out of your knees as a kid have been replaced by much softer sand everywhere. You both peel off your shoes.

Then you run for the swings. Mingyu beats you, like he always did, grabbing a swing and launching himself. You take the saddle next to him and push off, and soon you’re swinging into the sky by his side. The cooling evening air fills with your laughter, and for a moment you’re kids again, nothing holding you down but gravity, which you fight against with every gleeful kick, every joyful giggle.

“I forgot how much fun this is. We should get a swing set.” Mingyu pumps his legs harder, flying faster than you. Your outfit isn’t really ideal for this, so you sway gently and watch him with open admiration, laughing as he whoops.

“For our studio apartment?”

“No, for our future.”

Your future. You come to a complete stop as a thrill runs through you. You can’t wait to go there with him. Mingyu slows his pace as he looks at you, and you smile back.

“Maybe we wait until we have a house first.”

“I guess that makes sense.” He sighs, suddenly looking serious. “But don’t think I’m gonna forget.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You throw your weight to the side, shifting your momentum so you start to sway towards Mingyu, and lightly bounce off him as your swings collide, making him laugh.

“I feel like we haven’t had a second alone together since we said ‘I do.’”

“Well, good news. You get all of my seconds from now. All my minutes, hours, days to years,” you say, reaching out to run your thumb over your fiancé - no, your husband’s cheek. “Remember when we signed that piece of paper earlier? That was the deal.”

He hums, grabbing your hand to stop you from swinging away. “Then I’d like about thirty seconds now, please,” he states, and tips his mouth towards yours.

Mingyu has kissed you many times today - at the ceremony, during your first dance, every time one of your guests clinked their silverware against their glasses to toast to the newlyweds. But this kiss is different. It’s tender, and infinitely fond, and leaves his warmth lingering on your lips long after he’s pulled away.

“I think that was only about ten,” you protest with a pout.

“I apologize, my love,” Mingyu laughs, brushing a kiss over your jawline before his mouth meets yours again, more firmly than before. The two of you kiss and kiss and kiss, and you do your best to ignore the persistent nagging knowledge that you are meant to be somewhere else right now.

But once the two of you part, you feel obligated to say it. “We should probably get back to the party before anyone notices we’re gone.”

“Why? What are they gonna do, ground us?” Mingyu grins, tugging on the chain of your swing again. He cups your face for another kiss, short but no less sweet. “We got married today,” he reminds you, a note of awe lacing his voice.

“We did,” you agree, digging your feet into the sand so you can lean against your husband. He wraps an arm around you to keep you from swinging away. Your heart is awash with every emotion right now - joy, wonder, pride - but mostly love. So much love.

“Let’s just sit here a minute. Okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. They can wait.” He holds you close again, and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Thank you for this, by the way.”

“Of course,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “I promise to always sneak you out of stressful situations, so we can be alone in peace.”

“The ceremony was hours ago. It's a little late for another vow now,” you laugh, but Mingyu shakes his head.

“Never too late to make a promise, and keep it.”

You raise your head, and when Mingyu looks at you, you kiss him, your lips forming a solemn vow of your own, to cherish every promise he keeps.

Until death do you part.

***********

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help itget seen by other readers. 💕

Emoji Kiss Drabbles 💜 SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #thediamondlifenetwork #mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #asks #anon #emoji kiss drabbles

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elsewhereuniversity · 3 months ago

Note

Jw, but it's been a minute. Are y'all okay? Any updates?

Thanks for checking in, that's really sweet of you. Sorry for the radio silence. To be honest I am Not Doing Great. I'm getting through it and things should get easier in a few weeks, but it's been a rough winter.

About the boat/accident/insurance, no word since last October. Still no idea if we can expect any compensation for the months of lost income from the accident. Depending on the day I get either very sad or very angry about it still. The paperwork is mostly sorted out now, but that's been a nightmare at times too. And I've found I'm now really anxious about something happening to my partner/going wrong on the boat when I'm not there to help. I was parking the car when the accident happened and my partner was on board trapped below deck by the falling mast. I ran the whole way to the docks and I don't remember most of it. ig the whole thing's had more of an impact on me than I'd realized, and managing that's been a challenge.

My partner and I also got hit with about 10k total of unexpected and necessary expenses (dental surgery and vehicle repairs being the big things). I had to get a winter job to cover us, leaving my partner to repair the boat alone. So I've been working 80-90hrs a week while he's doing what's rightfully a job for two people, and every week there's been a new crisis that's a thousand dollars plus to fix. We've scraped through, and we'll be alright, but it's been exhausting.

Because of that, repairs are taking longer than we'd hoped. They're still ongoing, and at this point all the spruce for the new mast is planed smooth to the right width, but it's on hold for the moment because the table saw isn't working right. The owner of the workshop has told us not to use it at all till he can look at it himself. Once that's fixed we can start cutting rabbets - the grooves that let the planks fit together. But it's definitely not getting finished before summer.

It'll get easier soon. I do genuinely like my winter job, and once it wraps up, I can help my partner in the shipyard. I'm mostly recovered from dental surgery at this point. A friend offered us his boat so our little tour company can sail this summer like normal, and that'll be enough to pay the bills and fund the next year of repairs. The owner of the workshop says we can keep our 50ft table set up all summer so we can keep working on the mast when we have rain days. If we can just make it to June then we'll be in the water with all major yearly expenses covered and a regular source of income again, and from there life should get easier.

That's where we're at right now - no big news, just getting through. We're shifting gears soon to focus on getting the new boat ready for the season, and we're hoping that over the summer we'll complete the new mast and begin to address to damage to Nautilus' deck and hull, starting by pulling up her teak planking to get at the fiberglass below. She's stored outside so that's a warm weather project anyway.

Thanks again for asking, it means a lot. Sorry I've been so quiet here. My partner's taken some lovely videos of the planing and other workshop things. I've been too tired/busy to sort through and post them, but I'll get there eventually. I miss elsewhere a lot; one of my only non-work things is picking away at that little elsewhere u text game I'm still trying to write. Nowhere near fit for human consumption yet, but I miss it here! When things are finally better I'm looking forward to coming back.

#personal #i'm alright! but if i never have another winter like this that would be great

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lovelytsunoda · 9 months ago

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the scaredy cat support group | logan sargeant

summary: much to her dismay, y/n's friends have dragged her to see the scariest film of the season. luckily for her, the blond sitting next to her in a darkened cinema seems to be just as petrified as she is

pairing: logan sargeant x female! reader

warnings: scary movies & scaredy cats, implications of fear and gore, logan being a sweetie.

"this is such a bad idea."

the theater was packed, groups of people passing by them to get into the auditorium, eager to see the latest blood-soaked halloween killfest on screens. y/n, however, just couldn't get her feet to move. her friends stood just in front of her, worried looks on their faces as they looked back at her.

y/n loved halloween, make no mistake. it was her favourite holiday by leaps and bounds. she loved micheal meyers and ghostface and even freddy krueger.

but she absolutely hated being scared. she was a sensitive soul, and that was why she preferred older horror movies that were limited on the level of blood and guts.

"are you sure you don't want to sit this one out? we told you you didn't have to come." her friend said gently.

"no, no. i came here to spend time with you guys because i love you. and no scary movie is going to keep me from doing that."

she was reassured by the group of college guys that came in after her, with an athletic looking blond hanging back to stare at the film poster with a similar queasy look to the one that she was sporting.

"alright, let's get this over with. but if i barf up my popcorn, it's on you guys!"

they filed into the dark theatre, previews already beginning to play out on the big screen in front of them. their group of five took up most of the row, which, being in a small cinema, only held ten seats.

she sat in the middle, next to gloriously empty seat as she tried to steel herself for what was to come, with reminders to herself that it was all made from special effects, and she could walk out of that theater and into the real world whenever she wanted.

"is this seat taken?"

she look up and towards the soft speaker, who was using his phone flashlight to try and find his ticketed seat. it was the same blonde who had stopped to stare at the poster outside, and he looked a little pale in the face as he sat down next to her.

"not a fan of being scared?" she whispered, offering him some popcorn. "me neither."

"oh good. that means i'm not going to be the only one shaking like a baby." he laughed. "god, i would much rather have gone to see fucking joker or something."

"i wasn't given an option. they just told me that this is what was happening and i was invited if i wanted to. i'm y/n."

"logan."

"will you two be quiet?" the man behind them hissed. "some of us are trying to watch a movie.

logan shrugged, typing something on his phone before showing her the screen.

a movie that hasn't even started yet? i didn't realize that the advertisement for jackass was so interesting

"and turn your damn brightness down!"

y/n stifled a laugh as she watched logan pretend to give the guy the middle finger before slipping his phone into the pocket of his hoodie. the lights in the theater dimmed even further, the feature presentation beginning to unfold on screen.

to her credit, she lasted about half an hour before she jumped, knocking over her bag of popcorn and spilling some slippery buttery kernels into Logan’s lap. she was mortified, but the massage logan typed out on his phone reassured her that everything was fine.

it’s all good, squeeze my hand if u get 2 scared

no points for grammar, but five for being a sweetie.

naturally, it was logan who reached for her hand first, during a particularly gory on screen kill that had y/n squeezing her eyes shut and physically turning away from the screen while logan clutched her cold hand in his.

despite herself, she found Logan’s touch to be comforting. what did that say about her that a little scary movie had her seeking out comfort from strangers? (don’t tell her mother that or she would start singing the jamie walters song and everyone would be miserable) for a minute, she almost forgot that she’d come with a group of friends and was only reminded of that fact when one of them messaged her.

getting cozy over there? see, horror flicks are a great place to pick up guys! just make sure his favourite isn’t american psycho.

she giggled, looking over at her friend, who flashed her a thumbs up before turning back to the screen. that scene had long since passed, but logan continued to hold her hand, and she could feel his muscles tense as a scare drew nearer and nearer on the big screen.

she squeezed his hand reassuringly, only to be clutching it in terror moments later, one hand clapped over her mouth to stifle a scream. Logan reached over her body, almost as if he was gallantly and protectively trying to shield her body with his own.

she was going to fall in love with him at this rate if she wasn’t careful.

the movie finished, winding down in a way that much much calmer, if not eerie compared to what they had seen throughout the course of the film. she was relieved to see the end credits roll, although displeased at the idea of leaving logan behind.

she followed her friends out of the cinema, dropping her empty popcorn container in the trash as she went.

"y/n!" a voice called after her.

she paused, turning around to see logan standing just near the door. she glanced back at her friends, smiling when she saw their excited faces, gesturing wildly towards logan.

she walked up to the blonde, hands tucked nervously in the pockets of her flannel coat.

"hey," she started, rocking back and forth on her heels

"hey." logan grinned, scratching at the beck of his neck. "so, i think you're really cute." just out of her range of vision, she could see logan's friends standing behind him, sticking their thumbs up and whistling in encouragement. "and i was wondering if you wanted to go and get a coffee with me?"

she beamed, looking back to her friends for approval, one last time.

"i would love to. after all, you were my protector in there."

logan smiled. "is now okay with you? there's a little place in the plaza just across the way."

"sounds perfect."

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #the cozy collection 2024 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #logan sargeant x you #f1 x fanfic #logan sargeant x y/n #logan sargeant fanfic

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shurisasthmaticgf · 1 year ago

Text

oh baby he down bad: charles leclerc x black fem! reader

summary: three times when you realized you truly did have your boyfriend wrapped around your finger

warnings: crying, period mention, swearing

blog moved to @delewlew

author's note: this is the first charles fic i've written so please be kind...i hope you all enjoy it. i'm sick with covid and i was loopy on meds when i wrote this so i hope it makes sense 💀 comments and other feedback are welcome and appreciated!

whoisyn uploaded a story!

you laid in your bed curled into fetal position with your phone mere inches from your forehead. the room was dark but light enough to see half of your face as your eyes welled with tears. you rambled, "a few weeks ago when i was visiting new york i bought a bunch of takis and nerds clusters because they don't sell them over here in monaco and i went to go get a bag of both and i didn't know i ran out! i'm so upset i don't even want to settle for anything else." you wailed loudly, mixing in a few laughs at how ridiculous you probably looked but you had no shame as you hit post.

the entire day had been going pretty shit from the moment when you woke up and bled through your favorite pajamas to nearly passing out when you wanted to have a relaxing hot shower to make you feel better. now you were just laying in bed clinging to your body pillow that had lingering notes of your boyfriend's cologne. it was early in the night but your entire body felt like it was hit by a bus and you were one tylenol away from needing a stomach flush yet it didn't actually feel like it was helping. to make things worse, all you wanted was your boyfriend but he was supposed to be going out right after he got off of work.

you laid stiff in your bed in an obscure position because you found that was the only one that didn't make you feel worse. the door to your bedroom opened and your boyfriend entered wearing pajama pants and no shirt. you squinted through the dim light and mumbled, "babe? thought you were going out tonight? you had that thing." charles placed two bags of your favorite snacks onto your nightstand and responded, "i was but i found out through twitter that my girlfriend was crying at home." you turned your face away from him out of embarrassment because you were literally crying over chips and candy. he turned your chin back to him, "why didn't you call me, mon cœur?" you shrugged and reached for the bag of candy, "it wasn't that serious." he pulled you closer to him and you shifted positions so your head was against his chest. charles pressed a kiss to your forehead, "anything that bothers you is serious to me, darling. but, i am here and you have your snacks so we can watch your movie like we always do, yes?" you nodded and turned on Princess and The Frog which was one of your comfort movies since childhood.

whoisyn posted a story!

replies:

lilymhe WHP IS YOUE DEALER PLS 🙏

↳ whoisyn lemme ask charles

francisca.cgomes feel better bby <3

↳ whoisyn thank you so much ily ily ily ❤️

logansargeant i still have like 3 bags of hot cheetos and those nerds things for you from when you asked me to grab you some when i had a layover in new york

↳ whoisyn omg i forgot abt those! i'll get them next week if u bring em. ty ty.

alex_albon lily wanted me to ask you who your dealer is? she said you'd know what she meant

↳ whoisyn oh my bad pookie i forgot...but charles said he just has a stash of american snacks at his place for me. i'll bring her some next weekend tho dw ❤️

↳ alex_albon THANK YOU OMG I COULD KISS YOU RN - lily

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you cut through one of the alleyways out of street view once you noticed someone had been recording you as you walked through the streets of monaco. most of the time you managed to sneak through the city without being spotted but today you had to make a trip to the mall where a handful of people recognized you immediately. as someone who was never in the public eye and lived as a "regular" person you were still getting used to people recognizing you and following you around. time and time again you'd gone viral for your fan responses when they asked for pictures or autographs, usually a laugh and "why, i'm not the famous one?" you were genuine with your interactions and were known for helping fans get autographs or deliver fan letters to charles at grand prix weekends. although you enjoyed this aspect of his fanbase, sometimes it was too much and you just wanted to live in peace like you used to. so you'd learned every back road and sidewalk to your shared apartment for quick escapes.

the alleyway was quiet and away from the few people that were walking and talking beside you. just as you were to round a corner you heard a soft meow. stopping dead in your tracks you looked around confused to where the sound was coming from. there was silence then another meow, and another, and another until you realized a small orange cat a few meters away was the culprit. the tiny kitten was shaking and wet in some fluid you only hoped was water, but by the smell it was definitely sewage, pipe, or garbage juice. you wrinkled your nose and held the helpless fur ball in your palm, "shit...what the fuck do i do?" the kitten nibbled on your thumb and you stretched your finger away, "don't do that i don't want rabes or whatever cats can carry." you looked over your shoulder and sighed, "well i guess i have a cat now... let's go."

once back in your apartment you put the small kitten in your bathroom tub on an old rag. the small animal meowed and mewed the entire time you rinsed it off with the only soap you had that was safe according to google. instead of drying it's fur with your blowdryer you just towel dried it which he continued meowing. you'd never had a cat and didn't know what it meant when kittens meowed so you just started rambling, "well that's so interesting you feel that way because i literally said the same thing too! like i don't even know why that would make sense because when you really think about it they always want you to think that but in reality the truth is the complete opposite of what they want you to believe." the orange kitten looked at you with its head turned to the side and you sighed, "i don't know what you want from me man i just met you." the cat meowed louder and you mumbled, "that was definitely a cuss word but i'll let it slide."

an hour later you had given the kitten a small amount of some canned tuna and it fell asleep curled into your neck against the towel you kept it wrapped in.

charles entered your apartment with his eyes on his phone as he called out, "i'm home- oh." he usually expected you to be in your room so when you were out in the main room on the sofa he was startled. you sipped from the smoothie you'd gotten from the fridge and looked up from the book you were reading, "hi baby." charles stared at the kitten on your chest then back at you, "hi beautiful." he waited for you to say anything about the new addition and when you didn't he prompted, "what do you have there?" you looked at your hand and held up the cup, "a smoothie." you took a long sip and the straw crackled loudly, "oh yeah i figured out how to make that one hailey bieber has at that overpriced place in LA. it's actually really good i see why people lost their shit over it."

your boyfriend nodded slowly and pointed to the kitten on you, "my love, please tell me why is there a cat on you." for a minute you looked at him as if he was making it up but then you realized you never got around to actually texting him what happened. he waited for you to explain because the story had to be good if you, notorious anti-pet owner, came home with a cat and let it sleep on you.

you told him while looking at the kitten, "yeah, you're a daddy now." charles replied with too much ease, "i know that you call me that but that cat does not." you looked up with an exasperated glare, "can you be serious for one minute please." charles chuckled and apologized, "okay okay you go, tell me why i am now both of your daddys." you raised your hand to throw one of the clean rags you hadn't used at him which he shielded his face from, "okay i'm sorry go ahead." as you retold the entire thing charles just stood there with a fond smile, finding the whole ordeal quite amusing. at the end of your story he reached for the kitten and pulled back his hand, "why is it slippery?" you answered, "i put coconut oil on it so it didn't get ashy." charles started laughing once more and you smacked his shoulder lightly, "hey i never had a pet besides a fish okay! i'm trying my best here." charles pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your lips, "and you're going to be a great cat mom too, you've already done a good thing."

whoisyn

liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and 44,304 others

whoisyn happy birthday son to my son chisme octavius nortorious C.A.T. l/n-leclerc

view all 12, 079 comments

username1 WE THOUGHT IT WAS JUST CHISME LMAO WHY WOULD YOU NAME HIM ALL THAT-

whoisyn chisme bc if you pretend to gossip he'll immediately listen and start spilling tea too. octavius because charles said it sounded regal, and notorious C.A.T. for the culture.

↳ username2 LMAO YALL KINDA ATE NGL

charles_leclerc my two loves ❤️

username2 i need limited edition chisme x ferrari merch @/scuderiaferrari

↳ scuderiaferrari 👀

olliebearman i miss my brother

↳ whoisyn he misses you too <3

username3 i remember when y/n first found him, i can't believe he's a year old already :( he's so big now

username4 i thought charles said he wanted a dog

↳ whoisyn well i didn't find a dog, i found a cat. so we have a cat.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the video had circulated on twitter only a few hours after it dropped and you'd noticed your name trending on the internet. after making the mistake of checking why you were trending once, you'd never really paid much attention to it again. the first time many people were shaming you for dating your boyfriend and making jabs at your physical appearance. rather quickly you realized it would be better to just keep up with silly memes your friends sent to you opposed to stalking every corner of the internet to see what people were saying about you.

this specific instance was charles in an interview and he'd mentioned you briefly while playing a game of this or that:

"do you prefer a weekend getaway to the coast for a snorkeling trip or the mountains for a skiing adventure?" the interviewer quizzed charles on his current vacation preferences. the driver asked, "is this by myself or with people?" the interviewer answered with a small smirk, "you and one other person- can be anyone, best friend, sibling, girlfriend, mom, etc." charles let out a laugh and knew what the interviewer was getting at and chose to went along with it for fan service. he thought for a moment then answered, "i think the snorkeling trip, my girlfriend likes this kind of thing with the fish, sea animals, and the diving in the water. that and she is better of a skier and snowboarder than me so..." out of the frame the interviewer laughed and joked, "a little mermaid moment, i love it."

you looked at the video and laughed when you noticed the small hello kitty band aid on his hand. earlier that week he'd gone with you out to the sea and you'd found a small cove to swim around in. somewhere along the way back charles had cut his hand on a rock and you'd put a little band aid on it from the only stash you had, and he had no complaints over the pink cartoon design. he found it cute and whenever he looked at it he was reminded of you.

whoisyn