#i might paint this actually. have not decided
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La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 6
Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5
Summary: The Feds search Melissa's restaurant and question her. Meanwhile, you consider your options...
WC: 4k
When the girls are waking you a few hours later for breakfast; you're not much better. The extra hours of sleep have made you not a zombie but you can feel that your tank is near empty- that one more thing might just be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. You only hope it isn’t something the girls do that makes you boil over. It takes almost everything you have to get them fed, dressed, and actually to school. What keeps you going is the thought of your wife with agents tearing apart her beloved business and the tiny little hugs your twins give you when you say goodbye that are as tight as their little arms can make.
A few minutes drive takes you from the school to your wife’s restaurant. You still see Agent Shaw’s car in the parking lot as you pull in next to Sammy’s.
You see Melissa sat on the curb outside the entrance with a cigarette held between her forefingers as her elbow props on her knee. You should feel surprise. She stopped smoking when you started trying to get pregnant, both in solidarity with you and in an effort to improve her health for the kids you were hoping for. Now though, after the last few days, you're not surprised in the slightest. A stress cigarette has always been her one vice.
You exit the car, walking to the curb and sitting next to your wife. Wordlessly, she offers you the cigarette. You take it, taking a drag yourself before handing it back as you exhale the smoke.
“It's a goddamn mess,” Melissa finally says. “And they're still lookin’. For what, I don't know.”
You lean into your wife’s side, an arm wrapping around her shoulders and your hand gently shifting through the red locks you can reach. “We’ll fix it,” You murmur. You hope you’re telling her the truth.
Melissa hums around the next drag from the cigarette. You will. She knows you both will set it right when they finally decide they're done. It doesn't make it better though. This shouldn't even be happening, but it is.
You kiss her temple, inhaling the familiar scent of your wife’s perfume mixed with the cigarette smoke. It reminds you of when you first met. She had met you in a dark alley, and the first thing that you noticed about her was her striking green eyes- ones that knew exactly what they wanted. The second thing you noticed was the near intoxicating scent that you’ve only fallen further in love with as the years have gone by.
“I love you,” You whisper. You hate it, but it's the most you can offer her right now- the one thing you have that is unwavering and unchanging.
“Ti amo, mi amore,” Melissa whispers back as she takes another drag of the cigarette.
Her eyes flit up to yours, searching for any sort of comfort you can provide. Then they gaze over at the restaurant. She can see that everything is out of order. The chairs are strewn about at random, the booths have been moved and the agents have ripped up the painted walls in their haste to try to find something- anything. The front desk is a mess, menus everywhere and not in the designated holder. Decorations have been ripped off the wall and thrown carelessly, some ruined. And that’s only what she can see. Your wife doesn’t even want to know what they’ve done to the back- her beloved kitchen where everything has its right place.
“My god,” Melissa puts her head in her hands, and you have to quickly remove the still burning cigarette from her clutch to prevent her from catching herself on fire. “My restaurant...” and then she’s mumbling expletives in Italian. When she’s run out of curse words to be said in Italian, she switches to Irish. Then she switches to English.
“My love,” you sigh as you pull her impossibly closer- she’s nearly on your lap. “They aren’t going to find anything, because there is nothing to find.”
“I don’t even care about that,” Melissa whines into her hands. When she lifts her head, you see the tears in her eyes. “They trashed my restaurant, they’re going to take half of my shit, it’s not going to look the same, and I’m losing at least half a day’s worth of customers because of this! And then when people realize that we had to close for lunch because we were being searched, we’re only going to lose more business! I- I don’t even know what to do right now, Y/N.”
“We’ll put it all back together,” you promise her. “I’ll make some calls and have the family come down to help us put it back together, and we’ll get good business. We’ll make it all work, mo ghrá. I promise you, it will all be alright.”
“I just can’t believe this,” the redhead wipes at her tears harshly. She stuffs her hand into her jacket pocket, only to pull out another cigarette. She lights it and inhales deeply.
You pluck it from her hands. “Mel, smoking is not the solution right now. We can’t have you getting addicted again.”
“This is the one thing I can do,” your wife takes it back from you and takes another drag. “If you’re worried about the girls finding out, I’ll make sure I shower before I see them next.”
“What does that mean, love?”
“It means,” Melissa groans as she gestures in the general direction of where Danik and Shaw are now emerging from. “That if the way they’re walking over here is any indication, I’m about to be taken down to the station for a shit ton of questioning, and you’re going to be on mam duty today. Who knows what time I’ll be home.”
“They have no reason to take you in for questioning,” you try to tell her. “They found nothing.”
“They have every reason to take me in for questioning when we’re married,” she sighs as she stands.
“Melissa Schemmenti, we need you to come down to the station to help clear up a few things we found in your restaurant,” Danik states.
“Youse didn’t find nothin’,” Sammy rolls his eyes. “There is no need to question this poor, innocent family any further!”
Your wife sighs though as she stands from her place on the curb. “If youse want to interrogate me over nothin’, be my guest.”
“Honey,” you breathe out as you stand as well.
“Just get my restaurant back together before we have to open up for dinner, and please... tell the girls I’m sorry I couldn’t come pick them up today and that I love them,” Melissa tells you as she walks off with the officers.
You watch Mel slip into the back of the car. You don’t move as you watch the car pull off down the street once it turns out of the parking lot. You come back to yourself as Sammy’s hand lands on your shoulder.
“They got nothin’, kid.” He says, for what feels like the thousandth time.
You shake his hand from your shoulder, shooting him a glare. “Shouldn’t you be in your fancy ass car speeding to the station to protect my wife’s legal rights?” You say through your teeth, stepping past Sammy.
You don’t bother looking to see that he does get in his car and leave. You know he will. If not he’ll be having to answer to a lot worse than just you and your anger.
You step into the restaurant, sighing as you glance around. Melissa’s dream, torn to pieces without hesitation. Your hands curl into fists. You force them to uncurl and recurl, taking deep breaths in attempts to soothe yourself. You aren’t sure that it works- the only thing that would soothe you is if your wife was by your side and here to tell you that it’s all going to be okay despite her not knowing if that sentiment is true. This is what you didn’t want- Melissa and the things she loves upheaved, the things she dreamed and worked hard for. Sure, the salon and the front made it possible, but the success? That’s real. Melissa worked her ass off for this restaurant because she loved it and had a passion for it all. Now what was there to show for it? The place looked like it had been robbed blind and flipped.
You fish your phone from your pocket, dialing a number before placing it to your ear. You wish Mickey was out. You’d rather have called him. Instead, you’re cringing just a little when Mel’s cousin Vinny answers his phone. “Hey, you busy?” You ask instead of answering his question of how you’re doing.
You nod, silently willing him to hurry along as he chats around the simple yes or no question. “Can you grab Rocco and some of the other guys, bring ‘em down to Mel’s restaurant?”
This makes Vinny’s chatty nature stop suddenly. “Why? What’s goin’ on, Y/N?”
You sigh. Apparently news hadn’t reached this end of the family yet. The last thing you wanted to do was spread it further, make even more people jumpy over all this. You don’t have much choice though. “The Feds did a search warrant on the restaurant today. Mel’s at the station right now… I need some help putting it back together. They really did a number on it.”
You check your watch as Vinny agrees to gather who he can and be down as soon as possible to help. You still have a couple hours before the girls are out of school. Hopefully you can get things put together by then. You don’t want to have to ask your mother-in-law to pick them up again Though you know she’d hardly say no. Still, you’d like to minimize just how much she knows things are turning wrong if possible.
It breaks your heart more with each piece of the restaurant you pick up. Another little bit of your wife’s effort and care torn apart by the search. Still, you pick your way through what you can. By the time Vinny and some of the other men arrive you’re grateful there’s extra hands. It’s too much on your own, especially paired with your emotions. You’re half a second away from breaking something worse with the frustration you have building.
You help Vinny and the others until you have to pick up the girls. On the drive to the school, you make up your mind. You take them to your own mother’s house, the both of them excited to see their Nan. They don’t see your side quite as often as Melissa’s, with them living on the edge of the city. Still, today, the extra drive is worth it. It helps that you get to see your own mother too, reveling in her warm hug and kiss that’s planted to your own cheek as you drop the girls with her. You promise you’ll be back to pick them up by seven before you kiss each pair of chubby cheeks and hug them tight before you set back on the road again.
You briefly stop back at the restaurant. Your worry is a slight assuaged when you return to find Valentina helping direct putting things back together. It looks like they should be finished in time to open back up for dinner. You thank her yourself and make a mental note to tell Melissa she doesn’t pay her enough.
When you’re back in the car once more, you dial Sammy. Repeatedly. You know he’s still in the interrogation room with Mel. You dial until he finally calls you back before you can call him again. By then, you’re almost to the station yourself.
“Christ, Y/N, what is it? I’m tryna help your wife here and you’re blowin’ up my phone so much she’s lookin’ at me like she’s gonna kill me herself, nevermind the damn Feds.”
“I’m pulling into the station now, I need you to meet me outside.” You say and hang up before Sammy can say anything else.
In a matter of moments, he’s stepping out of the door and throwing his hands up at you in exasperation. “What the hell is goin’ on, huh?” He spits as you step to meet him on the sidewalk.
“You’re the lawyer, I need legal advice.” You say with a shrug.
“Now? Right now? When I’m tryna help your wife get home tonight, huh?” Sammy crosses his arms firmly across his chest.
“I’m tryna speed that process up myself, Sammy.” You retort. “What are the chances they keep Mel outta this? From here on, her and the restaurant?”
Sammy looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Basically nothin’, Y/N. They might not have found shit but they’re convinced, and they’re gunning. She’s as tied in as you are. You know that, though. So what’s the real question?”
“How long would I get if I copped to the money launderin’?” you ask seriously.
“What?” Sammy’s arms fall slack to his sides. Now, he looks at you like you’re absolutely insane. Maybe you are.
“I don’t got time for the ‘what are ya crazy, why would ya wanna do that’ talk, Sammy,” you roll your eyes. “Turn on the lawyer's brain, yeah? How long would I be lookin’ at?”
“The least you’d be looking at is ten years. The most…’round twenty. Plus whatever they wanted to fine for it…could be as much as doublin’ what they can prove you laundered. With you comin’ forward, we could probably get a plea, bring it down, but not by much.”
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “If I did, though, it’d be over wouldn’t it? They’d be off everybody’s backs?”
“They’d still be lookin’ for who killed Bobby…but things- they’d be mostly back to normal. Mostly. You know your girl in there would tear me to shreds if I even considered lettin’ you do this, yeah?”
“They tore her restaurant apart, Sammy. They’re tearin’ our whole damn life apart, ‘cause of me,” you sigh.
“It ain’t just because of you,” he tells you. “Sure, you took the business from Bobby, but you an’ I both know you would never kill him. You’d never order a hit; you don’t got it in you. Hell, you couldn’t hurt a fly- I’ve seen the way you rescue those damned stink bugs when they get into your house.”
“I took the business from Bobby. I get why they think I had something to do with it and are confused with how the business is doin’ so well,” you sigh as you scratch the back of your head. “But I- At the end of the day, this falls back on me, and Melissa shouldn’t have to pay for it.”
“Yeah, so your big brained solution is to lock yourself up, huh? Away from ya wife, ya kids. You really think that’s gonna make her feel better? That she ain’t gonna pay for it if you’re put away for years.”
“I think she’d understand…eventually,” you shrug.
Sammy laughs, outright. “You sure you’re the one married to Melissa Schemmenti? ‘Cause the whole damn neighborhood knows what you just said ain’t true. You’d be sooner lookin’ at your own divorce papers.”
You shrug. “At least they’d be left alone.”
“You’re really willin’ to throw yourself into prison for all this? Think about everything you’re gonna be missin’ if you go to prison. Melissa will divorce you, you’ll miss your girls growing up- miss milestones that you won’t be able to get back.”
Your eyes go hazy for a few seconds as you see your life flash before your eyes- past, present, and future. You see your girls celebrating birthdays by themselves, or at the prison to visit you. You see them potentially graduating high school and Melissa potentially sending them off to college on her own if you get locked up for long enough. You see the way that the girls change once your presence is no longer there. You see things you don’t want to happen. You see them throwing their lives down the drain because you aren’t there to show them the love that they crave and need. They end up in the same shoes you’re in now. And you- you hesitate in your decision to throw yourself under the bus enough that you really are unsure of what is the right thing to do in this impossible scenario.
“I don’t know what else to do, Sammy,” you whisper, and you hate the way your voice cracks and your eyes well with tears. You hate that all of this is wearing you down to the point that you don’t see a way out and you’re about ready to break. You hate that you can’t run in there and cling to your wife like your life depends on it, the way you want to. You hate every single thing about this situation.
“The only thing that you can and should do right now is let me go in there and do my thing for Mel, because they really don’t have shit on her this time,” Sammy tells you sternly. “Go home, spend time with your girls, and I’ll handle everything with Melissa.”
“You fuckin’ better,” you warn. “My wife has nothing to do with this side of the business, and I ain’t lettin’ no one take away her dream. She’s worked too damn hard for this. And when you have her side of all of this squared away, you better get your ass ready to sue the fuckers for all of the damage they caused at the restaurant- place is fuckin’ torn to hell.”
You turn back to your car, climb in, and speed off. Sammy shakes his head- he hopes you don’t go over him and get yourself into more trouble before he walks back into the precinct to finish off this interrogation that Melissa is dealing with.
“My restaurant is not a front!” Melissa shouts for the seventh time. “I mean, really! There are so many other places that don’t bring in half of what I do, a quarter even! If Twelve Tables really was a front, do you think I would’ve put my whole fuckin’ life into it?!”
The agents just look at each other. They’ve found what really gets your wife to tick. Insult her restaurant, and she gets feisty. “That’s what you want us to think, isn’t it?”
“You just tore apart my wife’s salon, our home, searched our cars, and practically destroyed my God damned restaurant! You didn’t find fucking shit! Get off of our fuckin’ backs!” Melissa slams her fist- the one that still has bandages on it from the knife incident- on the table. It’s a decision that she immediately regrets as her hand starts to throb.
“If you don’t have any evidence on my client,” Sammy says quietly. “I think it’s time we head out. There’s nothing you have to legally hold her here.”
“Damn right,” Melissa huffs as she stands and straightens her shirt out. “Don’t fucking come back to my restaurant.” She grabs her purse and storms out of the station. The lawyer is hot on her heels.
“Melissa,” he shouts as he tries to catch up with her.
“What?! I need to get back to my wife and kids!” She dares him to stop her.
“I’m just trying to tell you that I’ll drive you home,” Sammy rolls his eyes as he falls into step with her. That gets a bit of your wife’s fire to die down, and she allows him to lead her to the shiny Mercedes in the parking lot
You call your mother, asking if she minds keeping the twins for the night. Of course, she doesn’t. It really is impossible to say no to those tiny faces. Especially if they’re clinging to her and singing a made up song about staying at Nan’s when she asks if they want to have a sleepover.
You miss them. Despite seeing them every day, it’s been awhile since you got quality time with your little family. Even before all this mess started, you were working extra and lucky if you got to read the twins a bedtime story or even just say goodnight. More often than not, you would have to settle for kissing their sleeping heads and whispering how you loved them, hoping their subconsciouses at least picked it up.
Your wife, you’ve seen a bit more of. Usually, she’s awake when you do get home. She isn’t able to sleep well when you’re not. Not with the life you’re both in. You might be on the safer side of it but it doesn’t mean danger isn’t always around the corner. All it takes is one mistake and you could be targeted how Bobby was. You both know that.
Even so, you still haven’t spent much time together. It all boiled down to recapping your days while both fighting sleep. If that. Maybe a night just the two of you is what you need in the midst of all this.
It won’t go away, you know that, but maybe a night with your wife will make it feel more like it’s possible to get through it all. Like fighting is worth it. As you walk back into your home; you don’t quite feel like it is. Not with the amount of pressure it’s putting on Melissa. You’ve seen it grow with each day, just as you’ve felt it grow on you. Except, the pressure you feel on you isn’t what bothers you. You’d gladly put up with it if it meant your wife and the rest of your family felt nothing at all.
You mindlessly set about making dinner. It isn’t often you can convince your wife to let you make it instead of her. At best, you usually can convince her to let you help. You hope they won’t keep her at the station, going around in circles, for much longer. You hope it will be warm when she gets home and does not need to be reheated. The less for your wife to worry about, the better.
You’re just finishing cooking when the front door slams. If it were a normal day, you’d be concerned about who is coming in and slamming the door. Except it hasn’t been a normal day for a few days. You know it’s your wife- the knowledge confirmed by the Italian you can hear muttered as she pulls her shoes off at the door.
By the time Melissa makes it to the kitchen doorway, you meet her there with a glass of wine held out in offering. She softens when she sees you and the wine. She takes the glass from you with a quiet thank you. The rest of what anger your wife is holding out dissipates as she realizes you made dinner when you set her plate in front of her just as she all but falls into a chair at the table.
“Where are the girls?” Melissa asks you softly as she takes a bite of the Irish dish you made tonight.
“With my mom,” you tell her quietly. “I figured the two of us could use the night, just me and you, and then tomorrow is a full day dedicated to them.”
“I can manage that,” your wife tells you with a soft smile- really the first smile you’ve seen out of her all day. “I have to stop by the restaurant to make sure that everything is in order for the Saturday rushes, but-”
“Everything should be in order,” you promise her. “I had Vin and some of the guys come down and help me put Twelve Tables back together as much as we could. Val was instructing them... we really don’t pay her enough.”
“I know,” the redhead sighs out. “But with the financial trouble we’re potentially in, I don’t have the room to give her a raise right now.”
“When we’re out of this mess then,” you tell her as you set a hand over her own, your thumb brushing across her knuckles.
The two of you spend Friday night cleaning the house over glasses of wine, content to put everything from the past couple days out of your head even if just for a few hours. It’s warm, it’s soft... it’s the easy domestic life that you wish the two of you had all the time.
#melissa schemmenti fanfiction#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti x you#abbott elementary fanfiction#la cosa nostra#collab fic
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in which the world seems to be obsessed with how you and kylian spend dates together.
+
“i think this is the right colour,” you mumbled, holding the paint next to kylian’s shirt and examining them next to each other. “it doesn’t matter about the shirt as long as you make me look handsome.”
“carry on being so full of yourself and i’m turning you into quasimodo.”
he knew you were joking and he giggled, moving your hand away so you could carry on painting.
“seriously, it should be allowed to go in the louvre.”
“my painting skills might be excellent but are you really worthy enough to be hung in the louvre?” you wondered and kylian nodded. “uh, definitely.”
you carried on painting the t-shirt then grabbed the green for the shading of the trees behind him. “can you give me a strawberry?”
kylian held the strawberry up to your lips and smiled at you taking a bite, getting back into the groove of painting. one of the things he loved most about you was how you could make something so simple look so beautiful.
when you suggested having your next date in the local park, kylian wasn’t really sure considering how popular you two were but you soon talked him around and you brought paint and a picnic.
“what are we going to do with it though?”
“i don’t know, we can keep it. or donate it to the louvre,” you snickered, reminding him of how silly his idea was. “i think we keep it and show it to our great-grandchildren in the future so they know how handsome their papa was.”
it warmed your heart that kylian thought about your future together. he’d often talk about what he’d tell his kids and grandkids, and you’d blush at the thought of him thinking of being with you for that long.
“well let’s hope they don’t want a painting of me because you would actually make me look like quasimodo.”
“impossible.”
+
“are you sure we’re going the right way?”
kylian was holding his phone as high as he could to try and get a signal but nothing was happening. “i swear we’ve passed this tree six times. how much water do we have left?”
“barely any. it’s so hot as well,” kylian groaned, his t-shirt slung over his shoulder. “who’s bright idea was it to go hiking?”
“um, yours?” you sighed as kylian trailed behind you still trying to find a signal to no luck. “what if we turn around? surely we’re bound to find a house or something.”
the pair of you decided it was probably better to carry on and you might come across someone who could help and sure enough, a young girl and her dog came down the same path.
“excuse me, do you know the way back down? we got lost up here and can’t find a signal.”
she seemed to stand for a moment before her jaw dropped, seeming to understand that she was meeting you and kylian.
“hello? are you okay?”
“sorry, sorry. um, yes it’s this way.”
her dog jumped up onto you, his paws dirtying your shirt. “down, milo!” she ordered and he jumped off you, a smile etched on your face at how cute he was. “sorry about him, he usually doesn’t like other people.”
“it’s okay, cute dog by the way.”
the girl smiled at you and kylian, walking ahead of you two. she didn’t want to bother you both too much but she had thousands of questions she wished to ask.
“so, are you from paris or are you a tourist?” kylian asked, deciding to make small talk and the girl smiled as she responded, “i’m actually from spain but have been living here for the past two years.”
the three of you continued chatting about silly things like the weather and the best places to eat until you finally reached the end of the trail.
“thank you so much! seriously, we were starting to think of eating each other to survive.”
she giggled at you and said, “don’t worry about it. have a nice day.”
when she walked off, kylian passed you the car keys and wrapped his arm into yours. “shall we go get some food? i could kill for food right now.”
“lead the way, my favourite cannibal.”
+
the alcohol in your system was certainly kicking in now, and kylian’s words in your ear had turned into incoherent mumbling.
“what-what did you say?” you slurred, eyes trying to focus on his face but you couldn’t help but distract yourself by the bright lights above you.
had they always been that pretty?
“i said do you want a game of pool?”
you turned around to the pool table that was in the centre of the bar. when you were a kid, your brother had a pool table in his room but you never actually got to play.
“i don’t know how…”
“come on, cherié.”
kylian held his hand out and you stumbled getting off the chair but his arm around your waist held you steady as you both made your way to the table.
he sat you down on a chair whilst he set the game up, and you wondered where kylian learnt how to play pool. you reminded yourself to ask him after but knowing how drunk you were, you’d probably forget that you even played pool.
“okay, you can break,” kylian said, holding out the cue which he had made sure was okay enough for you. “kyks, i hate to say this but i can’t even see my hands let alone a few balls on-on the table.”
“fine, i’ll help you then.”
you broke the set of balls and watched as they scattered all over the table and luckily, you potted one of them. “see, now you go again.”
your hands started to shake a little as you tried to focus on the ball you wanted to pot but you soon calmed down when kylian leant over, touching the cue with you.
“you’ve got to try and get it at the right angle. see, if you hit this one then it will bounce off the other and into the net.”
and sure enough, when you did hit it at the right angle, it went into the net.
you cheered and turned around to face kylian, kissing him on the cheek. “you’re supposed to be playing against me baby,” you snorted, turning back around to take your next go.
kylian didn’t care much.
even if he lost, he’d always remember he was the one who taught you how to play properly.
+
for your twenty second birthday, kylian had booked the both of you a weekend trip to italy. it came as a great surprise and you were so excited on the plane there.
even more so when you landed.
the pair of you had decided to go out for dinner for the night and when walking back, the sun was setting nicely.
you’d picked up a great tan after the first day and the sun just felt different to the one in france. it felt nicer.
“thank you for this, kyks.”
his arm was looped between yours and he had a wide smile on his face. “it’s your birthday, cherié.”
you shrugged, “well yeah, but you could have took me out for dinner at home. you didn’t have to fly us out to italy.”
kylian stopped you both in your tracks, a deep sigh leaving his lips as he grabbed both of your hands and took them into his.
“listen, i love you, okay? and when people love each other they do things for each other. and i know you’ve been wanting to come to italy so it’s the perfect birthday gift.”
even though the sun had set, kylian was sure it was still there. your smile was so bright that he could practically live off it. if the sun suddenly disappeared one day, all he’d have to do was make you smile and everything would be okay again.
“i love you too. and thank you, again.”
laughter could be heard from across where you were and you looked over the railing down towards the beach. there was a group of kids kicking a ball around with each other, a heartwarming encounter that made your smile grow wider.
“kyks, look,” you pointed to the kids, the pair of you watching as they cheered when the ball went into their makeshift net. “he’s good, huh?”
you found it funny that the children didn’t have a clue that kylian was watching them and probably never would know.
his arm rested on your shoulder and he sighed softly whilst pulling you away. “come on, cherié.”
+
the car ride was spent in silence as kylian’s eyes stayed focused on the road ahead whilst you continued to bite your fingernails.
he didn’t know what was wrong with you today but it was starting to make him upset that you were.
all morning you’d been pacing around, only making small talk. when he picked you up from work, you refused to get coffee which was unusual, and now was silent.
kylian tried to think of the right thing to say but nothing was coming to mind.
“if there’s something wrong, you should tell me. maybe i can help.”
you felt sick all of a sudden and you unbuckled the seatbelt. “please, stop the car!”
“we’re in the middle of the road, i can’t-”
“just stop it!”
he pulled up and was confused when you opened the car door making a swift exit and down the steps towards the sands of the beach down below.
several cars honked the horns and kylian wondered if he was even allowed to stop here but he didn’t care; he needed to know what was wrong with you. he followed behind you quickly, stopping when you practically collapsed onto the sand and started crying.
“y/n, cherié, please tell me what’s wrong.”
the beach was practically empty. the only people on it were two teenagers with their backs to you and an old couple a couple of yards away.
“i-i can’t. you won’t be able to look at me the same way.”
every bad thought possible began filling kylian’s head and he wondered what could possibly upset you so much. “whatever it is, i’ll still love you.”
water had always calmed you down.
as a kid, if someone had picked on you or you had a fight with your siblings, you’d always find yourself at the beach. you’d build sandcastles and dip your toes into the water, collecting seashells until it was time to go home.
it only made sense that you were here right now.
slowly, you turned your head to face him and then your full body was facing him. he looked down at you waiting patiently for the words to come out your mouth. but it was like you were stuck. thinking of the various things that could happen.
but as kylian’s eyes were wide and his smile was soft, you felt safe.
“i’m pregnant.”
it felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs, a feeling he’d only felt a couple of times, all after being delivered big news. “you’re what?”
“pregnant. i’m pregnant, okay?”
you tried to search in his eyes to see what he was thinking but he just seemed shocked. not in the bad way though. he was more shocked at the fact you were crying.
“but i thought you wanted kids, cherié?”
you turned back around to face the ocean again, mind full of thoughts that you’d be a terrible mother. “i do. but-but i’m scared, kyks. what if i’m not good enough?”
his arms snaked around your waist and his chin rested in the crook of your neck. “you’re more than good enough. i’ve seen the way you are with kids. anyone would be lucky to have you as their mother. and i’d be the happiest man alive to have a kid with you.”
#kylian mbappe x reader#kylian mbappe#kylian x reader#kylian mbappe imagines#kylian fanfic#football imagine#football x reader#football#elisewrites
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i love him.
#your honor i care them#art#my art#acofaf#acofaf spoilers#a court of fey and flowers#k.p. hob#captain kp hob#captain hob#delloso de la rue#rue#ruehob#battlemaster of ceremonies#i might paint this actually. have not decided
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writing this apology months before it happens but i am so sorry for the person i am going to become eventually. i am getting into warhammer 40k
#ive not touched the lore yet but miguel gifted me so many minis to paint and im slowly picking it up... and i have a big lore book too#that i rly rly wanna get into when i can and actually like. fucking KNOW what him and the guys at the store talk about whenever we go there#like hello. i understand nothing thank you <3#btw if anyone knows abt 40k he assigned me tyrannids. he just decided those guys were for me#and he was right they genuinely really slap. alien bug freaks that consume everything and mimic other beings hell yes#anyways. let this be a warning. a prophecy even. the second i get into it i will not know peace and i will become incomprehensible#thunderclap#also i might as well start tagging#40k
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got to see the total eclipse in person!!! heres some art commemorating that! cuz getting to watch 2 celestial bodies make out sloppy style was inspiring what can i say, also it was just rlly beautiful and cool and amazing to get to see ghg- but also! its like?? basically the moon finally getting the suns undivided attention... and thats got some vibes to it,, some energies... that i could not ignore lol.
#original art#eclipse#solar eclipse 2024#total eclipse#doodles#original#artists on tumblr#ok sorry these r probably kinda sloppy looking. 1 paintings very difficult.#and 2. my brain wouldnt let me work on other shit before finishing these but i have other shit i NEED TO DO#so im deciding they r now finished i dont wanna spend any more time on them lol#i think they turned out ok tho#i recorded the process of me drawing them too so#there might..be a speedpaint. possibly#last time i said a picture would get a speedpaint was like 2 years ago and it didnt get one cuz my computer hated me lol#but! i have a new computer now...#if i find the time / energy to make that speedpaint.. then there might be a speedpaint#we shall see lol#i kno the height difference i gave them isnt acurate at all to actual sizes. the sun is bigger#but... this is what i wanted to draw gghgh-#if it makes u feel any better i did come up w a headcanon while drawing that they can just shapeshift freely n be whatever heights they wan#right now the moons just taller#cuz i said so#also sorry they kinda resemble my tak and gaz a bit… that wasn’t intentional… I just wanted the moon to be gothy and the sun be spiky#but#they kinda do look a bit like them ghg-
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my babys btw
#.bmp#masterpieces#she for both right now#i cant decide what colors they should be... i think young darkners of their type don't choose a 'personal color' until theyre much older#so they change it a lot#they as a type just have bald faces. they just look like that#some birds just look like theyre balding all the time and its fine#raster always has paint-stained clothes no matter how hard anyone tries#vector is much neater naturally#might change vectors eye to just round.. hm.. i want them to have rounder shapes because of how vector graphics work#theyre both the same age!#raster is several minutes older#actually i think im gonna change several thing about vector.. .hm..
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So, Jess I know you’re not an artist like your bestie in the entire world snap… but what does your art look like I remember you doodled this little pic for me of Tien with Choatzu’s make up lol but have you’ve drawn anything else?
Ya
#i draw a lot i just dont post it all the time bc well... sometimes i dont like em sometimes i forget sometimes its just a personal lil thing#i havent painted for months bc i lost my paints but Snap actually bought me some replacements for my birthday the other day so 🫶#maybe i'll try and paint daigo or somethin and post it sometime soonish#in his honour#or maybe Tsutumi bc i like his face it might be fun to do................#or another baba since i sure like daito#or maybe i will just continue doin the boys from my REDACTED group lioe i have been the past few months#i have done haruka and majima but i couldnt find the posts in my tag and im dying of a flu or maybe covid (real not clickbait)#so i dont feel like gettin up n goin on my computer. i mostly had to screenshot these from insta lol#but yeah. i do also do stuff :)#ask#also yeah we made exactly 5 days into the year before my body decided to fuck me over so uhhhhhhh bodes well#genuinely feel like ive been hit by a truck and i have such a bad headache still havent played gaiden 😭#also why does answering on tumblr mobile app lately be so weird ???#like freezes the app keeps reloading cant look at notifs til i close it and reopen ? anyone else have that issue
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Can't afford art school?
After seeing post like this 👇
And this gem 👇
As well as countless of others from the AI generator community. Just talking about how "inaccessible art" is, I decided why not show how wrong these guys are while also helping anyone who actually wants to learn.
Here is the first one ART TEACHERS! There are plenty online and in places like youtube.
📺Here is my list:
Proko (Free, mostly teaches anatomy and how to draw people. But does have art talks and teaches the basics.)
Marc Brunet (Free but he does have other classes for a cheap price. Use to work for Blizzard and teaches you everything)
Aaron Rutten (free, tips about art, talks about art programs and the best products for digital art)
BoroCG (free, teaches a verity of art mediums from 3D modeling to digital painting. As well as some tips that can be used across styles)
Jesse J. Jones (free, talks about animating)
Jesus Conde (free, teaches digital painting and has classes in Spanish)
Mohammed Agbadi (free, he gives some advice in some videos and talks about art)
Ross Draws (free, he does have other classes for a good price. Mostly teaching character designs and simple backgrounds.)
SamDoesArts (free, gives good advice and critiques)
Drawfee Show (free, they do give some good advice and great inspiration)
The Art of Aaron Blaise ( useful tips for digital art and animation. Was an animator for Disney. Mostly nature art)
Bobby Chiu ( useful tips and interviews with artist who are in the industry or making a living as artist)
Sinix Design (has some tips on drawing people)
Winged canvas (art school for free on a verity of mediums)
Bob Ross (just a good time, learn how to paint, as well as how too relax when doing art. "there are no mistakes only happy accidents", this channel also provides tips from another artist)
Scott Christian Sava (Inspiration and provides tips and advice)
Pikat (art advice and critiques)
Drawbox (a suggested cheap online art school, made of a community of artist)
Skillshare (A cheap learning site that has art classes ranging from traditional to digital. As well as Animation and tutorials on art programs. All under one price, in the USA it's around $34 a month)
Human anatomy for artist (not a video or teacher but the site is full of awesome refs to practice and get better at anatomy)
Second part BOOKS, I have collected some books that have helped me and might help others.
📚Here is my list:
The "how to draw manga" series produced by Graphic-sha. These are for manga artist but they give great advice and information.
"Creating characters with personality" by Tom Bancroft. A great book that can help not just people who draw cartoons but also realistic ones. As it helps you with facial ques and how to make a character interesting.
"Albinus on anatomy" by Robert Beverly Hale and Terence Coyle. Great book to help someone learn basic anatomy.
"Artistic Anatomy" by Dr. Paul Richer and Robert Beverly Hale. A good book if you want to go further in-depth with anatomy.
"Directing the story" by Francis Glebas. A good book if you want to Story board or make comics.
"Animal Anatomy for Artists" by Eliot Goldfinger. A good book for if you want to draw animals or creatures.
"Constructive Anatomy: with almost 500 illustrations" by George B. Bridgman. A great book to help you block out shadows in your figures and see them in a more 3 diamantine way.
"Dynamic Anatomy: Revised and expand" by Burne Hogarth. A book that shows how to block out shapes and easily understand what you are looking out. When it comes to human subjects.
"An Atlas of animal anatomy for artist" by W. Ellenberger and H. Dittrich and H. Baum. This is another good one for people who want to draw animals or creatures.
Etherington Brothers, they make books and have a free blog with art tips.
📝As for Supplies, I recommend starting out cheap, buying Pencils and art paper at dollar tree or 5 below. If you want to go fancy Michaels is always a good place for traditional supplies. They also get in some good sales and discounts. For digital art, I recommend not starting with a screen art drawing tablet as they are usually more expensive.
For the Best art Tablet I recommend either Xp-pen, Bamboo or Huion. Some can range from about 40$ to the thousands.
💻As for art programs here is a list of Free to pay.
Clip Studio paint ( you can choose to pay once or sub and get updates. Galaxy, Windows, macOS, iPad, iPhone, Android, or Chromebook device. )
Procreate ( pay once for $9.99, IPAD & IPHONE ONLY)
Blender (for 3D modules/sculpting, animation and more. Free)
PaintTool SAI (pay but has a 31 day free trail)
Krita (Free)
mypaint (free)
FireAlpaca (free)
Libresprite (free, for pixel art)
Drawpile (free and for if you want to draw with others)
IbisPaint (free, phone app ONLY)
Medibang (free, IPAD ONLY)
NOTE: Some of these can work on almost any computer like Clip and Sai but others will require a bit stronger computer like Blender. Please check their sites for if your computer is compatible.
So do with this information as you will but as you can tell there are ways to learn how to become an artist, without breaking the bank. The only thing that might be stopping YOU from using any of these things, is YOU.
I have made time to learn to draw and many artist have too. Either in-between working two jobs or taking care of your family and a job or regular school and chores. YOU just have to take the time or use some time management, it really doesn't take long to practice for like an hour or less. YOU also don't have to do it every day, just once or three times a week is fine.
Hope this was helpful and have a great day.
"also apologies for any spelling or grammar errors, I have Dyslexia and it makes my brain go XP when it comes to speech or writing"
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❝ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐃 ! ❞
❝ A GOOD GIRL SUMMONING THE KING OF CURSES -- WHAT COULD GO WRONG? ❞
✧ pairing: heian form! ryomen sukuna x good girl! reader
✧ summary: you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, dub/con / non/con (dead dove, do not eat), reader summons sukuna accidentally, monster fucking, corruption kink, reader is a virgin, dom! sukuna, heian form! sukuna, four arms, mouth stomach, size kink, oral (f + m) (f receiving via mouth stomach), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, degradation kink (slut, whore), overstimulation (f! receiving), description of violence (no violence happens), art by @/danXL4 (on dA), dividers by @/saradika
✧ wc: 4,916
Summon a demon in your apartment, they said. It would be fun, they said.
‘They’ meaning your stupid ass friends who were too fucking scared to stay here with you while you did it.
Maybe you should’ve thought this through, preferably before you sat in a circle of blood (animal blood taken humanely that could not be used — don’t worry, you weren’t completely insane), and painted the symbols around the circle in the living room, your carpet rolled up, and on the precipice of unfurling, and your coffee table pushed aside.
Your phone buzzed with messages in your group chat:
Don’t do this, girl.
Another message.
What if it’s real? I don’t want something to happen to you - like I rather not have this on my conscience
What heartfelt pleas, you shook your head, as you put your phone on ‘do not disturb,’ and propped it up before opening the camera app and hitting record.
Your fucking friends — it was all their fault to begin with.
You grit your teeth, you are tired of being boring. You were always studying, always coming home early, always getting to class on time, always the fucking good girl, never getting fucked up or fucked for that matter. And your friends always taunted you for it — told you that you never lived a day in your life, that you’d always live sheltered in your apartment with your books and your streaming apps (which, you admitted, did sound pretty good to you) — but you wanted to prove them wrong.
All the fuck they did that was daring was go to supposedly haunted sights and get the piss scared out of them — like yeah, that really was the wind, not some fucking ghost. If it was a ghost, pretty sure they would choose someone better to haunt — not a bunch of fucking pussies.
You needed better friends.
So for once — if only to get them to shut up — you wanted to do something crazy.
You don’t know why a demon summoning was the hill you had chosen to die on, but you already climbed your way to the top of the hill, you supposed, so you might as well die on it. You looked through the Reddit thread you found on demon summoning (of course the most reliable of sources), looking over the incantation you were supposed to read, as you turned on your camera.
Fuck. This was going to fucking dumb. You grabbed your lighter, lining up your candles around the circle, before kneeling in front of it.
“To summon the King of Curses,” you read before you scoffed, what the fuck were you doing? ‘The King of Curses’ — they couldn’t even come up with anything more creative than that? Like no latin? Or even japanese folklore — no, instead the most generic ass of names, “To summon the King of Curses, you must read the following incantation,” you glance at your phone’s camera with lips pursed — you were going to prove a point — but why did it feel so goddamn stupid?
You sighed, rubbing your forehead, as you suck in air between your teeth, and sighed, before reading the incantation: “Rise, Disgraced One — Oh, the King of the Golden Age that reigned supreme,” there was a chill that grazed the back of your neck, a slight breeze that raises goosebumps along your skin, “Open the Gate of Hell and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,”
The flames on the candles shoot to the ceiling, as a scream lodges itself in your throat, as you barely scramble back enough to avoid getting your face burned off. The fire licks the ceiling, and a thick cloud of smoke floods your apartment, sweeping through the apartment, as you begin to cough, eyes burning with tears.
“What the fuck—“ you reach for your phone in your pocket only to realize it’s still set up to record in that fucking mess of flames. You’re frozen, as you stand trying to recall what they taught you about fire safety growing up — is opening a window a good thing or a bad thing? Where’s the fire alarm? Do you even have a fire extinguisher? Thinking dangerous things through wasn’t your specialty, you supposed because you never did them.
Fuck, if you died, you would become a fucking ghost and haunt your friends.
But the flames ebb away, leaving some scorch marks on the ceiling (fun thing to explain to your landlord), as your lungs struggled to cope with the flood of smoke dispersing, the cloud so thick, you could barely see your hand in front of your face. The haze seared at your throat, drawing a smoker’s cough from your lungs, while your eyes could barely open, waterlogged by the sheer amount of tears spilling.
You gently wipe tears away from your eyes, as you blink them away, until you stumble to your window to throw it open, coughing, as you stick your head out.
“What the fuck,” you mumble, throat raw — was it the candles you bought? Were the candles somehow really fucking defective? Or did you somehow actually summon a demon? You snort, no, it was probably the candles. You leaned against the window sill, letting the smoke escape — as you finally were able to breathe again.
You sigh, shutting the window, turning back around — only to find four eyes staring back.
He was huge. A hulking mass of muscles, four arms, instead of two, and each one was possibly wider than your head, no shirt or covering to find the exposed skin — his dark blue pants hung low around his waist and above it was a weird groove in the middle of his stomach.
Your eyes raise as he lifts his arm, as you flinch, but he only rakes his fingers through his dark pink hair, pushing it back roughly. showing off the hands of black around the middle of his bicep and his wrists. Broken lines wrap down from his shoulders into jagged points that end in the middle of his chest. Black dots adorn the sides of his shoulders, hollow vacuums that stared back at you.
Two eyes on each side of his face — but his right eyes were raised, as if he bore a mask made of wood or raised skin — you didn’t know which — fused to his face. But something told you — as you took a step back — it wasn’t something you wanted to find out.
“Are you the brat who dared to summon me?” And you freeze at the sound of his voice, ringing with such a weight, it nearly brought you to your knees. Your eyes fell to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look at him — your heart rattling against your ribs. His presence was a pressure, the air around you seemed to still, his voice ringing in your ears. Your muscles were drawn taut, unable to move — shivers ripping down your spine.
“Yes,” you manage a whisper only, resisting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut.
He gives a small chuckle, “So submissive for the one who dared to summon me,” his heavy footsteps out of the circle, melts the candles beside his foot to puddles of wax, “it has been eons since I’ve been able to roam free—“ he inhales, as you stand frozen, hearing his hulking form drawing even closer, “I can smell the humans, roaming free, wriggling like worms in the crevices of this place — I can’t wait to massacre them,” and then he pauses a moment, as he considers you.
“Brat, look at me,” you swallow, as your head slowly rises to meet his gaze, his form towering over you, standing two steps away from you, letting you dwell in the void of his shadow, “tell me, what did you use to summon me?”
You blink, “I found it—I don’t know—“
“Read it to me,” he orders — there’s no option to disobey, unless you’d love to be met with certain death. So you move slowly to your laptop, reading the incantation again, “‘and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,”
His eyes narrow, as a slow smirk settles over his features, a smirk that sends an icy chill down your spine, “Woman, you have no idea what you’ve done, have you?”
Two of his arms are crossed while one of the other’s reaches for you — and your eyes shut now — you are surely dead, but instead of a hand around your neck, you feel fingers grip your chin.
You wait for the embrace of death (at least maybe you’d find better friends in the afterlife), but it never comes, instead you hear a deep chuckle, as another arm curls around your waist and brings you flush to him, “You humans are so tiny, so fragile, one wrong move and i could break you,” and another large hand is slipping down the curves of your body, “I suppose I’ll have to be a little careful — only for this to work, and I suppose for your benefit as well,” and your eyes finally dare to open and peek at him, only for his face to draw near, breath warming your lips, “I’m going to savor corrupting you, little one,”
“What the fuck—“ you try to break away, but his grip is like iron shackles around your wrists, as he forces your arms around his waist, caged in by his own arms, “please let me go—“
Before you can even finish your plea, his lips meet yours, swallowing your gasp with a smirk. His large hands around your waist left no space for retreat, not that you’d make it far even if you tried. His kiss sent a slow burning heat throughout your body, a spark that grew in your belly that ignited when his tongue slid into your mouth. His touch only added fuel to the flame — his hands skimming over your sides slowly like warm honey sliding down your skin.
He parts your kiss ruined lips, not before his teeth bite down on your bottom lip, a smirk on his lips as he sees your saliva slip down the corner of your mouth. Your lips parted and puffy as he drags his thumb down them, eyes blown out with pleasure.
“That’s it, give in,” and the haze that settles over you is thick and unforgiving, unable to see anything but the King of Curses before you and unable to need anything but pleasure at his hands.
“Please,” a small hint of resistance remained stubbornly — you couldn’t let this monster have his way with you — for fuck’s sake, much less lose your virginity to him, “I can’t,”
“But you want to,” he hums, as large fingers tug at your flimsy shorts, the fabric tearing with ease, until it was in shreds, a shiver running up your spine at the thought that your limbs could have been too, “your mouth says one thing, brat, but your lower lips,” a thick finger presses at the wet patch on your panties, rubbing against your puffy clit, “say another,”
You whimper, as his finger bears down harshly through the thin fabric, “please,” you swallow, as he leans down to lick the drool from your lips, “please—“
“Please, what, little one?” he chuckles, as he presses wet kisses up your jaw, “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me,” your knees are beginning to buckle, as the ache between your legs only grows, “I know you must look pretty when you cry, so do you want to cry for me, brat?” and his piercing gaze nearly brings you tears along, “because I can give you something to cry about,”
“Do you ever shut up?” you mutter, but that only seems to make the corner of his lip tug upwards.
“I can make you shut up,” And two hands squeeze your hips roughly, while another slips under your shirt, “No undercovering? It’s as if you wanted this all long,” he chides, a huff in his voice, as his finger teases your pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling, drawing a yelp from your lips, “hoping for an incubus or some other curse or demon?” he’s tugging down his pants, revealing his dick—-if you could call it that.
Fuck, was that a cock or another appendage all together? Far thicker and longer than any male anatomy you’ve seen depicted or described in even the filthiest corners of the internet — pretty veins running up the sides, as a mess of pre-cum dripped off the engorged tip, flushed red with need.
“Why did you summon me?” he demands to know as he leans down to take a nipple between his lips, and you know you have no choice but to answer.
“I wanted to prove to my friends that I wasn’t—” it was so pathetic now, as you stood before a literal deity of death, “wasn’t just a good girl,”
He chuckles, a bark more than a laugh almost, as you swallow thickly as your eyes can’t tear away from the sight of his dick — would he kill you with it instead of his hands?
“Well, you aren’t anymore are you?” he scoffs, and you fail to notice his hand shifting to tug your underwear off, a gasp ripped from you, as another hand brushed against your bare cunt roughly, “Look at how fucking wet you are already, slut, so much already leaking all over my fingers,” he shows you the strings of pre-cum connecting his fingers, before he brings his fingers to his lips and his tongue darts out to lick them clean, “I’d say no respectable woman would be dripping this much if she was so good,” he hums, before sighing mockingly, “although, perhaps I should preserve your sanctity, even a little. It would be unfortunate to leave you like this — even more so, to leave myself like this, but if that is truly what’s for the best—“ his grip begins to loosen, but your fingers find his shoulder.
Two words manage to leave your lips — and you don’t know whether it’s that you’re under his spell or under your own — but you know that you need this “Don’t go,”
His lips curl. He wasn’t going to begin with — but it was so much easier if you gave in.
~~~
“C’mon little one, you were so eager only a moment ago,” The King of Curses chides, amusement threaded through his tone from behind you, watching as you nearly straddled his stomach — though you had realized it wasn’t just a stomach. A tongue flicked out over lips that formed over the middle of his abdomen, right under you.
“I didn’t know—“ your cheeks warmed, your walls fluttering at that thought of that tongue against your leaking cunt.
“Yet you’re so eager,” he scoffs, before using a large hand to tug you against it as two hands settle against your waist to hold you in place, “and I’ve run out of patience, so be a good whore and take my cock,” and he’s pushing your head down, sharp fingernails digging into your scalp, as his large cock slaps your face, smearing his pre cum over your cheek and lips.
Your lips part, the tip of your tongue tracing his weeping slit, drawing a hiss from his lips, before your mouth engulfs the head, while your fingers curl around his thick base. And as you do, you feel his tongue drag over the length of your cunt, making you gasp around his cock.
His mouth and tongue are even larger than the one on his face, slurping and sucking, as his tongue begins to work its way inside your needy cunt.
“Don’t slack, brat,” his hand pushing your head further down on his cock, nearly burying your face in his pubes, “come on, do a good job, and I may even give you the pleasure of being fucked by me,”
You force yourself to focus on sucking his cock, tracing the pretty veins with your tongue, before suckling at the tip, savoring the groan you draw from his lips. The squelch of your cunt as his tongue begins to fuck you open, thicker than even four of your fingers, fills your ears. Two of his hands find your tits, tweaking and twisting your nipples, squeezing as he presses the flat of his palms against your breasts, only for tongues to dart out from his palms. You gasp around his length, as his other mouths suck at your tits, swirling their tongue around it.
His hips jerk against your mouth when your fingers cup his balls, and he thrusts, “You can do better,” he grunts, as his tip grazes your throat, his mouth closing around your clit and sucking, hard, and you’re grinding on his abs and mouth now, toes curling as you cum, and his mouth only eagerly swallows it, the sticky release coating his abs.
His cock twitches in your mouth as you moan around it, as you recover from your orgasm, beginning to suck at his cock, nearly high off the pleasure, as you fondle his balls, bobbing your head up and down, until he’s finally groaning, his hot release flooding your mouth.
“Don’t waste a drop,” he growls, as you swallow it, blissed out and panting, as your lips leave his weeping cock, slapping against your cheek as he lifts you easily and places you on your back, “don’t tell me you’re done after that, little one,” and your eyes slide down to see his somehow still erect dick, standing tall as he kneels on your bed, his hulking form burying you in his shadow, “because I’m far from done yet,” his cock twitches at the sight of your lips, a swollen mess from sucking him off, a mix of his cum and your saliva all over your face.
“Please, I can’t—“ you whine, shaking your head, but two hands are already spreading your folds, your cunt fluttering around nothing, as if already craving to have his dick buried in it.
“Your cunt seems to disagree, little one,” as he drags a thick digit around your clit, before pinching it, as you keen under his touch, “you’re drenched for me, begging for me to take you,” and his thumb is now rubbing circles around your puffy clit while he sinks a finger into you knuckle deep, “I just have to make sure you can fit me in this tight hole of yours,” your head falls back against the pillow as he’s knuckle deep, another large finger already pushing into your slick walls, “still so tight despite all the time I took to open you up,” he clicked his tongue, a smirk on his lips, as his fingers find the spongy spot that makes your fingers fist at the sheets, as your release squirts over his fingers, your body boneless as pleasure buzzes through every inch of your body, until you finally start come down.
But as soon as you even begin to, his fingers begin to move again, fucking you through your orgasm, and quickly into another.
“Ngh, no, no, not yet—” your voice is caught in your throat, words leaving your lips in a hurry because you know surely his fingers would rip any coherent thought from your mind in a moment.
But he does not relent, only finger fucking you harder, “I have to be careful to open you up, otherwise, I very well may break you in two, wouldn’t I? Such fragile things, you humans are — already squealing? I haven’t even added a third finger yet,” he scoffs, as he hums, “have you not been deflowered yet, brat?”
And your pussy gives a telltale flutter that only has his lips curling further, a flash of his canines sending a chill down your spine, “I-I—”
“No need for your answer, pet, your body gave me the answer itself,” he hums, “then this will take a bit longer than I thought—” as his fingers curl and drag over your walls, before scissoring apart, “I’d prefer for you to be conscious when I take your virginity, but I don’t mind if you’re not,”
And a fourth finger presses at your slick hole, making you whimper, “Please, I can’t—” but he does not relent, four fingers now fucking you open, as your mouth parts in a silent scream, back arching as they work you open. Your body lies on slick drenched sheets, the smell and sound of your arousal only making his need grow, holding back if only not to ruin you completely — he needed you still, needed this to work. And he wasn’t sure what’d happen if he’d break you completely — and he knew he could far too easily. Already he could feel your blood rushing under his touch, the small gasps and moans could turn to screams with just a finger barely lifted, the slick painted over with scarlet.
But he doesn’t. He can’t. Not when he’s so close. And soon enough he won’t need you — but he can only cross that bridge when he gets there.
Or rather, when you get there.
~~~
“Brat, c’mon, keep your eyes open, we’re almost there,” Sukuna barks, as his fingers grip your chin, and force your gaze to him. How many orgasms had he given you? Seven or eight ? Maybe more. Sweat and cum clung to your skin, sticky and hot, as he continued to fuck you open, “think this virgin hole is finally ready for my cock, listen to it,” the loud squelch of your cunt as he thrust his fingers in and out had almost become white noise to you — and the sweet stretch of your pussy around his fingers had become second nature.
And finally he’s pulling his fingers from you, digits shiny and dripping with your release, sliding down your palm and wrist, as he brought them to his mouth to lick it clean, before offering it to his mouth on his stomach as well. He watches you all fucked out before him, legs spread along with your cunt that fluttered around nothing, waiting for him to slot his cock between your folds and sink in. He grunts, fuck, his balls still feel so full, even after cumming down your throat, aching to cum in your sweet cunt, see him fill your womb with his seed, the sweet release he had been craving for far too long.
“You still want my cock still, little one? Or are you too tired for it now?” he drags his leaking cock over your dripping folds, letting it tease your swollen clit as his pre cum mixes with your own, “maybe I should leave you like this, let you beg and beg for me until you’re writhing for me,”
You’re panting, the ache inside your pussy too much for you to bear — you were melting without him inside, the only thing to quench your need, your thirst — he was the only thing that could even begin to make it ebb.
“Please, please, my King,” your words are nearly sobs, pretty tears slipping down your cheeks, as your chest heaves with need — want far gone several hours ago, leaving only you with a desperation that would drive you mad, “I need you, need you take me, need you to fuck me,”
And his lips curl, “I thought you’d never ask, brat,” and he’s settling himself between your parted legs, pressing them back against your stomach, “although even if you didn’t, I’d help myself — because you summoned me after all, didn’t you, little one?” As he uses another arm to cup your chin, “watch me as I sink into you,”
Your cunt quivers as he presses his head to your entrance, as he uses your slick to wet his cock, “I’ll go slow at first, but once I’m inside, I have no intention of stopping, no matter how much you beg,”
It was a warning, a warning that there was no going back — but there was no going back from the moment you summoned this curse onto your doorstep — there was a descent into depravity, and how quickly you’d make it to the bottom.
The tip of his cock barely parts your folds, and you’re already whining about how full it feels — your walls fluttering as if trying to either accommodate his girth or push him out all together. He saw the faint drip of scarlet as he worked himself in, inch by inch — as your fingers found purchase in his forearms, nails digging crescents into his flesh.
“F-fuck, ngh, Too big, Sukuna, I can’t—“ and he can already feel your pussy give the telltale flutter of an orgasm, a cry ripped from your throat, as you cum, walls only pulling him in deeper and deeper — as if they never wanted to let go.
And finally, finally, he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to your aching cunt, and he stills — it had been so long since he had enjoyed the body of a virgin, but he was sure you were the sweetest and tightest cunt he’d ever had.
Your cries made him scoff, tears streaming down your ruined face, it made his cock twitch —you were so small compared to him, a tiny pebble waiting to be crushed, but instead he held you in the palm of his hand. You were his to have, his to break, and his to corrupt.
“I told you there was no stopping,” he grunts as another hand settles on your stomach, on top of the slight bulge that came with his cock sinking into you, “can you feel me touching the deepest parts of you?” And he takes the whimper as a yes, “get accustomed to it, because this cunt shall be my breeding ground for as long as I see fit,”
And he finally pulls out only to sink back into your sweet depths, knocking the breath from your lungs. He starts slow, if only to spare you from breaking — because he knows so easily could. The wet squelch of your cunt rings in his ears, as he watches his thick cock sink in and out of your pussy again and again.
“Look at you, barely able to take my fingers and now you’re taking my cock so well,” he groans at the sight of your stretched pussy, as it took his cock over and over, molding its very shape to his length, as the slap of your skin against his became like a metronome, “such a perfect little whore, aren’t you?” and you moaned at his words, the sound of which made your cheeks burn with shame — “don’t worry, even if you aren’t, little one,” his fingers find your clit, rubbing and twisting until you come again, hard, your back arching as you do, fingernails nearly drawing blood from his arms as you do.
He hums, as he only fucks you through your orgasm, even as you try to squirm away from him, it’s all in vain — because you’re his now, “Oi, brat, where are you going? You won’t like what I’ll do if you try to get away again — your only place now is under me,” and his hands find his way under your ass as he shifts you onto his lap, “or on this throne,” and he fucks into you, brutally, again and again, your arms clinging around his neck desperately, as a hand on the back of your head guides your lips to his, “tongue out,” he orders, and you do as he says, as the two of you meet in a sloppy kiss.
And his hands shift to your hips, bruising as they help you ride him, meeting his thrusts with your own, until he’s finally hitting your cervix that has you squirting, drenching him in your release as your walls shudder around him. And his lips leave yours a moment, before they kiss down your jaw to your neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a yelp from your lips.
He groans, a guttural noise from his chest, as he notches himself as deep as he can before cumming, his hot release spurting out and painting your walls, as he continues to fuck it deeper and deeper, the snaps of his hips finally slowing, as he pulls away from your neck, enjoying the blood that pools in the ridges of his bite mark.
“Such a good little slut, aren’t you?” he hums, as he cups your lolling head, eyes thick with sleep and body heavy with exhaustion, you hear his quiet voice murmur, “I was only going to corrupt you for the sake of completing the summons you gave — I had no choice if I wanted to stay on this plane, but,” he hums, as pulls his cock from you with a gasp on your lips, before he has you flipped onto your stomach in a moment, sheathing his thick length back into you in one thrust, “I think I just might keep you, brat,” your eyes flutter shut, as his words fade from your consciousness, until a mean spank to your ass jolts you from your retreat into Hypnos’s arms.
No — as you turned your head ever so slowly to get Sukuna’s face in your periphery — you only answered to one god now.
The King of Curses’ lips curled in a cruel smirk, as he drew his hips back before slamming back in, “Let’s show the world truly how depraved you are, brat, hm? Together.”
✧ a/n: this is my first time writing sukuna so i hope i was able to do him justice. i was gonna do the whole two dick thing, but i was already like...this is complicated enough lmao.
✧ taglist: @pricetagofficial, @kentocalls, @angie-1306, @fayyyrieee, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz, @viveriens, @sunflowmaryam, @eclipsephase, @merrymonkey, @leilannnnnnni, @spider-fan72, @temptationville, @gojos-princesa, @yell0wdreams, @achelliescomedown, @hiyori-ii, @bunninio, @grunge-mo0n, @diogodxlot, @littlecrybabys-world, @esuz, @unnamedflwr, @lemonpoppy-seed, @corkedscrewslocked, @bsaeshell, @methodofawesome, @rinvrin, @noveltywilbur, @ch0c0bsess, @sarcasticbitchsblog, @simpingnbitching, @aethyrite, @aitheria, @sweetpanda15, @daddytojji, @kindadolly, @kimnamjoonsbigtoe, @catsgomurp, @dhoranbolt, @kariatenoh, @hanxyy
#sab [mlist]#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna smut#sukuna smut#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#sukuna fanfiction#ryomen sukuna fanfiction
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hi, i ireally love your work and i don't know if you've answered this before but, what kinds of studies do you do or how did you learn color theory? i wanna get better at rendering and anatomy but im having trouble TT TT
Hi! Long answer alert. Once a chatterbox, always a chatterbox.
When I started actively learning how to draw about 10 1/2 years ago, I exclusively did graphite studies in sketchbooks. Here's a few examples—I mostly stuck to doing line drawings to drill basic shapes/contours and proportions into my brain. The more rendered sketches helped me practice edge control & basic values, and they were REALLY good for learning the actual 3D structure behind what I was drawing.
I'd use reference images that I grabbed from fitness forums, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and some NSFW places, but you could find adequate ref material from figure drawing sites like Line of Action. LoA has refs for people (you can filter by clothed/unclothed, age, & gender), animals, expressions, hands/feet, and a few other useful things as well. Love them.
Learning how to render digitally was a similar story; it helped a lot that I had a pretty strong foundation for value/anatomy going in. I basically didn't touch color at all for ~2 years (except for a few attempts at bad digital or acrylic paint studies), which may not have been the best idea. I learned color from a lot of trial and error, honestly, and I'm pretty sure this process involved a lot of imitation—there were a number of digital/traditional painters whose styles I really wanted to emulate (notably their edge control, color choices, value distributions, and shape design), so I kiiind of did a mixture of that + my own experimentation.
For example, I really found Benjamin Björklund's style appealing, especially his softened/lost edges & vibrant pops of saturated color, so here's a study I did from some photograph that I'm *pretty* sure was painted with him in mind.
Learning how to detail was definitely a slow process, and like all the aforementioned things (anatomy/color/edge control/values/etc.) I'm still figuring it out. Focusing on edge control first (that is, deciding on where to place hard/soft edges for emphasizing/de-emphasizing certain areas of the image) is super useful, because you can honestly fool a viewer into thinking there's more detail in a piece than there actually is if you're very economical about where you place your hard edges.
The most important part, to me, is probably just doing this stuff over and over again. You're likely not going to see improvement in a few weeks or even a few months, so don't fret about not getting the exact results you want and just keep studying + making art. I like to think about learning art as a process where you *need* to fail and make crappy art/studies—there's literally no way around it—so you might as well fail right now. See, by making bad art you're actually moving forward—isn't that a fun prospect!!
It's useful to have a folder with art you admire, especially if you can dissect the pieces and understand why you like them so much. You can study those aspects (like, you can redraw or repaint that person's work) and break down whether this is art that you just like to look at, or if it's the kind of art that you want to *make.* There's a LOT of art out there that I love looking at, probably tens of thousands of styles/mediums, but there's a very narrow range that I want to make myself.
I've mentioned it in some ask reply in the past, but I really do think looking at other artist's work is such a cheat code for improving your own skills—the other artist does the work to filter reality/ideas for you, and this sort of allows you to contact the subject matter more directly. I can think of so many examples where an artist I admired exaggerated, like, the way sunlight rested on a face and created that orange fringe around its edge, or the greys/dull blues in a wheat field, or the bright indigo in a cast shadow, or the red along the outside of a person's eye, and it just clicked for me that this was a very available & observable aspect of reality, which had up until that point gone completely unnoticed! If you're really perceptive about the art you look at, it's shocking how much it can teach you about how to see the world (in this particular case I mean this literally, in that the art I looked at fully changed the way I visually processed the world, but of course it has had a strong effect on my worldviews/relationships/beliefs).
Thanks so much for sending in a question (& for reading, if you got this far)! I read every single ask I receive, including the kind words & compliments, which I genuinely always appreciate. Best of luck with learning, my friend :)
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sundress
theodore nott x fem!reader
masterlist
summary; you wear a new sundress to your date with theo, knowing that he loves them on you, and he cannot resist the temptation.
warnings; google translated italian, dom!theo, sub!reader, SMUT without a plot, public sex, praising, pet names, lots of kissing and groping, choking, neck grabbing, hair pulling, fingering, heavy dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink... overall, pure filth.
author's note; english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. "helping hand" has reached over a 1.000 notes, TYSM! i'm so happy! hope you enjoy this 🤍
you were trying to hold back your playful giggles as theo pushed you inside the three broomsticks bathroom, his large hand covering your mouth to muffle your cute little laugh so that the rest of customers didn't hear you both sneaking into the ladies restroom.
'what had brought you two there?' you might be wondering... well, that's actually a really short story.
as every saturday, theo and you were in hogsmeade, having a date. it was may, the weather was warm and the sun was shining in the sky, so you had decided to put on a new sundress that your mother had bought you for your birthday a few weeks ago —knowing that theo loved seeing you in that kind of clothing.
the dress was white, with a flared skirt and a corseted body which ended in a low and flattering neckline. it made your body look stunning and theo had almost gone crazy when he saw you earlier; the soft fabric hugging your curves, bringing out the light tan of your skin... he had been literally drooling over you the entire date, and now, he couldn't hold back anymore: he needed to fuck you.
and he couldn't wait until you both were back at hogwarts.
he kicked the bathroom door shut behind you both while peppering kisses along your slender neck, gently sucking and biting your skin to mark you all over; at the same time, his hands groped your body almost desperately.
"you look so fucking beautiful today," theo whispered in your ear.
he tugged at your earlobe between his lips before turning you around to push you against the sink and you hissed when your body hit the cold hard marble kind of roughly.
you chuckled, tilting your head to the side to kiss his cheek as you tangled your fingers in his light brown curls, his hands grasping at your slim waist.
"just today?" you whispered back teasingly, looking up at him with a smirk on your red painted lips.
he chuckled lowly, pressing himself against you as he slipped his hands underneath the hem of your dress to run his hands over the smooth skin of your legs slowly, pulling the fabric up just enough to expose a sliver of bare thigh.
"always beautiful, but today... fuck," he muttered, nuzzling his nose against yours; the smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, making you feel light-headed, "this bloody dress is driving me fucking crazy, cara mia."
"i knew you'd love it..." you couldn't help but giggle against his lips, giving gim a chaste peck before pulling back slightly. "i put in on just for you," you murmured, kissing his neck softly; your red lipstick left a faint stain on his flesh.
theodore smirked, his hands sliding up your thighs to cup your bare ass through the laced fabric of your panties.
"you're a fucking tease, do you know that?" he groaned before leaning in to claim your crimson lips in a scorching kiss.
your eyes fluttered shut, your body melting into his arms at the intimate contact, which made you gasp against his eager mouth. your lips brushed together in a mind-blowing dance while you ran your fingers through his soft hair absentmindedly.
theo broke the kiss just a moment later only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin as his fingers worked to lift your dress higher up, until it was pooling around your waist, his body still pinning you against the sink.
"i need you," he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire, "need to fuck you so badly, principessa."
you gasped once again when he pressed his hardening cock against your pelvis, grinding against you in slow motions. you grasped at the sink countertop, your head falling back as he placed wet kisses all the way down to your cleavage.
theo groaned at the sight of your perfect breasts almost spilling out of the neckline of your dress and his hand cupped one of them through the thin fabric, squeezing it tenderly.
"sei bellisima, amore mio," he muttered in italian, his lips pressing against yours hungrily once again. (you're beautiful, my love)
you whimpered into the kiss, feeling your wetness start to pool around in your panties as his thumb toyed with your perky nipple over your clothes until it hardened; your shuddered in his arms.
"theo, please," you stuttered into his lips, words coming out as broken sobs.
theo broke the kiss, his eyes darkening with lust as he looked down at you while his other hand slipped between your legs. his fingers traced along the damp fabric of your panties, feeling how wet you were for him.
"merlin... you're fucking soaked, principessa," he growled, his fingers teasingly brushing against your clit.
you moaned at his action, but quickly nipped at your plump bottom lip to try and hold back any sound that may escape your mouth, not wanting anyone outside the bathroom to hear you... though the thrill of getting caught was indeed turning you on.
theo withdrew his hand and kneeled in front of you, fingers gripping at the waistband of your panties to slid them down your legs while he peppered wet kisses all over your belly and hip bones, slowly moving down.
"we have to make this quick, bella," he whispered, placing one last kiss at your smooth mound as he looked up at you with those deep set eyes of his. "but i promise i'll eat your pretty little pussy later on, yeah?"
the smirk he gave you while he stood up made you weak on your knees. he pulled you into a kiss, hands groping at your thighs and ass cheeks avidly as he practically devoured your mouth —at that point, your red lipstick was smudged all over your faces. he grabbed your wrist to guide your hand towards his crotch and you palmed him delicately, feeling his hard dick twitch at your touch.
theo groaned against your lips, breath hitching in his throat. his hand released your wrist and slid between your legs once more, this time slipping two digits inside of you, gently stretching your tight hole.
"fuck... so wet for me," he whispered against your mouth, teeth tugging at your already swollen bottom lip. "you're fucking dripping onto my fingers, principessa."
his free hand wrapped around your neck, choking you lightly while he moved his digits in and out of you in scissor motions to prepare you for his cock. you gasped for air, letting out a needy cry as you worked to unfasten his belt with shaky hands.
"need your cock, theo... please," you breathed out, cheeks flushed.
theo's hand released your neck, his fingers withdrawing from your pussy to help you slide his pants and boxers down; his throbbing cock sprung free, standing tall against his flat stomach, and your mouth watered at the sight. after that, he grabbed your hips, turning your around and pushing you forward until you were bent over the countertop.
"keep your eyes on me, amore mio," he commanded, his voice rough.
he grasped your hair, tugging at it to pull your head back until your eyes met his on the mirror. his rough grip made you whine and you writhed when you felt the tip of his cock brushing along your slick folds, teasing you.
"theo, please," you whimpered desperately.
he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing inside while his free hand found purchase at your hip. he groaned loudly, the feeling of your tight heat welcoming him nearly overwhelming.
"so big, oh merlin," you whined at the stretch, letting out a little cry that echoed through the bathroom.
"oh fuck... I love being inside you," he murmured, his eyes piercing yours through the mirror. "che piccola figa così stretta... all fucking mine," he grunted, starting to pound into you. (such a tight little pussy)
you reached to cover your mouth with one of your hands, your palm muting the moans that inevitably left your lips when he began to fuck you against the sink roughly. your other hand gripped at his thigh, your nails digging into his flesh, and you couldn't help but close your eyes tightly, face contorted in pleasure.
he released your hair and his fingers curled around your throat instead, applying light pressure as he groaned; his digits dug into your skin, leaving bright red fingerprints on it.
"look at me while i fuck you," he ordered, forcing you to open your glazed eyes and look at him through the mirror.
his grip tightened on your throat as he slammed his hips against your ass, his cock buried balls deep inside your cunt and hitting all the right spots within you. the mirror reflected his flushed face, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and eyes locked onto yours as he took what he wanted from you, making a moaning mess out of you; thankfully, your hand covering your mouth muffled the sounds.
"damn it... so fucking tight," he moaned, picking up the pace of his thrusts, "pussy feels so good around my cock." he leaned down, his lips meeting your ear as he whispered his filth into it.
he left a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your neck while his cock made you see stars, his free hand finding its way between your shaky legs to rub your puffy clit, causing you to squirm.
"you love this, huh?" he taunted, smirking against your flesh, "you love it when i'm rough with you, don't you, principessa?"
his hand slid up from your neck to grab your hand and pull it away from your mouth, pinning it behind your back, so that you could answer him. though you struggled to do it; the way he was rocking his hips caused his cock to rub against your g-spot with every single thrust, making you feel like your insides were being torn apart in the best way possible.
"hmm, yeah," you cried out in response, "love it when you fuck me hard."
his lips captured yours again and your walls clenched around him as you moaned into his lips, the kiss muting the sounds of your pleasure. you felt the coil in your belly tightening and your clit pulsed underneath his fingertips, signaling your impending orgasm. he broke the kiss, his eyes dark and hungry as he looked down at you.
"you close, bella? he panted, slapping your ass hard enough to sting.
you nodded in response, blubbering incoherent words, unable to form any sentence as he ruined your cunt.
"that's it, baby... cum for me," he grunted, pushing deeper and harder, the sink creaking due to his harsh thrusts. "i want to see your pretty eyes roll back into your head when you cum on my cock."
his filthy words triggered your orgasm.
he watched with satisfaction as your eyes indeed rolled back, your back arching and nails digging into your skin as you covered your mouth once again, trying to silence the moans and cries that slipped from your lips.
"such a mess... so fucking beautiful," he praised.
he bit down softly on his lip before letting out a rough, guttural groan, the feeling of your cunt engulfing his cock too much for him too handle.
"i'm gonna cum inside you," he warned, "gonna breed this tight little pussy, amore."
you let out a whiny moan, your breathing coming out in sharp pants as your walls clamped around his cock in response to his dirty words.
"you want that, huh?" he mocked you, his hand grasping and pulling at your hair to push you back onto his chest. "want me to make you pregnant with my fucking child?"
"yeah," you whimpered pathetically, "want to carry your child, theodore nott."
"fuck," he cursed, letting out a long, low moan as he unloaded his cum inside you, the warm sticky liquid filling your pussy. "buona ragazza," he whispered, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from collapsing. (good girl)
your legs were completely shaky, making it hard for you to stand up, so you supported yourself on the countertop as you felt him pulling out slowly, his cum dripping out of your abused cunt.
he placed sweet kisses over your back and shoulders as you recovered from your orgasm, whispering soothing things to you while he grabbed his wand to mutter a cleansing spell and get you both all cleaned up.
after composing yourselves, the both of you walked out of the bathroom quietly to not grab any undesired attention, unluckily, pansy parkinson was waiting out of the bathroom, arms crossed and smug grin tugging at her lips; you blushed.
"finally," she claimed, laughing, "you two had fun in there?"
"shut up, parkinson!" theo shouted, grabbing your hand and hurriedly guiding you outside of the three broomsticks.
'we sure as hell did, pansy', you thought as you both walked away.
#♡ ;; theosbaby#theodore nott scenarios#theodore nott x you#theo nott smut#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott smut#theo nott#theodore nott#theodore nott x y/n#slytherin#slytherin boys#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#harry potter#lorenzo zurzolo#theodore nott x slytherin!reader#theo nott x reader#theo nott x you#theo nott x y/n#smut#theo smut#slytherin boys smut#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys masterlist
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I accept that ill probably be alone forever. I just wish it wasnt because people were so manipulated by someones fake narrative abt me.
#i wish it was bc i burned half the city down ir smthn#something to actually make me sit there and reflect on the actions i did#rather than trying to sit there and reflect on the actions my abuser said i did knowing damn well i didnt#but feeling like if i dont analyze it the ppl around me will think i dont care about anything#even. though. i. didnt. fucking. do. anyytthingnngggsnahehws i want to strangle you.#like i cant sit here and analyze actions i didnt do bc idk why someone would do that stuff bc i fucking didnt. i can sit here and try to#figure out why someone might do that shit but ultimately idfk because im not them.#im sorry im not this ultimate abuser you want to paint me as. im sorry its kot as simple as 'this person holds views i think are#problematic so that means theyre the abuser'#im sorry that you look at my blog. see someone you think is cringe. and decide my weird awkwardness is enough evidence.#idk wtf to tell you dude. your fave is the one who did it. idk what tf to tell you.#i also dk how you can see all their 'rape is fun' drawings and not even SUSPECT FOR A SECOND that it could be them lmao.#but whatever. ppl gonna listen to the most popular ppl bc thats how ppl are in abusive smear camapigns like this.#ppl will always side w the more popular person. thats just a fact like thats something i learned early about#emotionally abusive ppl like them.#i cant sit here and pretend for you to make it so easy. that im the bad guy and its just seewww obvious bc of whatever politics you think#i have. i cant sit here anymore letting you believe that. i cant sit here anymore letting you believe the world is black and white and#you can just sort people into boxes of good and evil.#im mot what you think i am and thats my final answer. if you cant deal with that reality then idk wtf to tell you.
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what it’s like to bring the jjk boys to…have dinner with your family!
ft. fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji, gojo satoru, geto suguru, ijichi kyotaka, inumaki toge, itadori yuji, kamo choso, kamo noritoshi, mahito, muta kokichi, nanami kento, okkotsu yuta, panda, ryomen sukuna, todo aoi, yaga masamichi, yoshino junpei, zenin naoya
warnings: not all of these are romantic! reader is lowkey desi coded in some of them. reader is mentioned to have a brother, dogs, aunts/uncles, and cousins in some of them. reader slanders like 75% of the characters. honestly the characters might be ooc too i wrote this two years ago for fun and giggles and just found it again and wanted to post. also tw naoya!
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
Literally perfect
Your parents love him
Your dogs love him
You love him
Was kind of quiet at first but settled in eventually and opened up a bit
Was still kind of reserved but that’s to be expected from him
Your mother found it sweet that he tried to hide behind you when your uncles started interrogating getting to know him
He let your younger cousins play with his shikigami so that your dogs could get a break from being bothered
Really liked the salad your mother made and asked for the recipe
1000/10
FUSHIGURO TOJI
Actually not too bad
Was polite enough and liked the food
Showed your parents pictures of Megumi as a baby
They were suitably impressed
Your cousin asked him where he goes to the gym
He told him he doesn’t believe in gyms (thinks they’re oppressive institutions designed to disadvantage the poor?)
Did give him a discount code for some random protein powder that he’s sponsored by though
Asked your parents to donate to his charity
They were happy to do so and thought it was amazing that he has a charity
You decided not to tell them that his “charity” is literally just his bank account
4/10 for scamming your family
GOJO SATORU
Solid 7/10
Goofs around a lot but he did come so he gets points for that
Your parents hated him at first but then he showed them the album of cute Megumi pictures he has saved on his phone and they switched up
“He’s so responsible for raising a kid so young! And it’s not even his!”
Bullshit
He does NOT raise Megumi and you were the one who sent him half of those pictures
Demoted to a 6/10 just for that but at least your parents like him
Also the fact that he had an album was cute
Somehow managed to keep the dirty jokes to a minimum
Your brother kept making fun of his eyes being so blue so halfway through he had to switch the glasses out for the blindfold
Surprisingly high spice tolerance
GETO SUGURU
Honestly really a fun guy!
Actually brought his own dish to the dinner??
AND IT WAS GOOD????
Your mother wants you two to get married now
Asked if he could take some leftovers back for Mimiko and Nanako
Which was very considerate of him actually
Your mother told him he didn’t have to return the dishes she packed the food in
Let your brother win at Scrabble
Listened to your mother talk about the auntie drama
Apparently he’s going to start putting coconut oil in his hair now
Your parents are going to adopt him and kick you out
9/10 would’ve been higher but he didn’t beat your brother’s ass at Scrabble (he wanted to “make a good impression”)
IJICHI KYOTAKA
Similar to Nanami in that he and your father got along really well
Your brother called him “goofy”
He had to go to the bathroom and cry after that
He did compose himself and came back to eat
Can handle spicy food quite well
Complimented your mother’s cooking
Brought flowers as a thank you for the dinner
Was super sweet and grateful to be invited at all
11/10 would definitely invite him again
INUMAKI TOGE
Everyone was really excited to meet him
Let your cousins play with his hair and do his make up and paint his nails
Was your partner for Charades and you two won by a LOT
Kept sneaking treats to your dogs
Your mother ordered seafood for him because he could only speak in rice ball ingredients and she thought he really wanted salmon
He did eat it though
He would be a 10/10 but he accidentally used his Cursed Speech on your aunt so 8/10
ITADORI YUJI
Somehow lit the grill on fire
Managed to put it out but he did lose his eyebrows in the process unfortunately
Looked stupid without eyebrows
Spent most of his time hanging out with the little kids
Your family actually really liked him though
He’s too sweet to dislike
Helped wash the dishes and did not break any
7/10 because you almost had to call the fire department
KAMO CHOSO
Showed up an hour late
Was friendly but kinda nervous and awkward at first
Loved the food
He and your brother are best friends now
Genuinely he gets along better with your brother than with you
Impressed your father with his history knowledge
3/10 was too perfect and now your parents keep asking why you’re not more like him
KAMO NORITOSHI
He hates kids
Spent the entire first half running away from your cousins
Once he finally escaped he got along great with the adults
They really liked how responsible and mature he is
Thought it was impressive that he’s going to be the clan head
Your aunt told you that he was a keeper and you should “marry for money, hope for love”
Started crying when your mother asked him if she could hang up his jacket for him
It reminded him of his own mother who he was forced to leave as a kid
All of your aunts have unofficially adopted him now due to his tragic backstory
Deserves 10/10 just for being relatively normal
MAHITO
-892378/10 your parents couldn’t see him because he’s a curse
He was very happy to hear that and nearly destroyed your house
You had to call Geto halfway through to chase him off
Your family was thrilled to see Geto again though so at least there’s that??
MUTA KOKICHI
Sent a robot in his place obviously
Everyone wanted to know why you brought a robot to dinner
They thought you had hit a new low
You had to explain that Mechamaru was basically his body because of how weak his actual body was
Nobody believed you
-3/10 he was nice but it was overall a humiliating experience
NANAMI KENTO
Cannot eat anything spicy
Started tearing up at the appetizers alone
Had a massive stomach ache afterwards and his face was red for like twenty minutes
Your father liked talking to him about business and the economy and shit
Did not get scared when asked about his plans for the future
Actually has plans for the future
Your brother is kind of gay for him tbh (??) and threatened to marry him if you don’t
10/10 because he still finished everything on his plate so he didn’t seem rude even though he was lowkey dying
OKKOTSU YUTA
Tried his best
Your dogs tried to leave with him because they liked him so much
He brought gifts from Africa for your entire family
Did stop a toddler from getting kidnapped
Is physically really good at grilling but emotionally cannot handle the stress
Had a mental breakdown when you asked for a vegetable burger
Made the discovery that he really likes corn and proceeded to eat all of the corn you had bought for the night so nobody else got any
Summoned Rika and allowed your cousins to use her as their dress up doll
Rika was very nice and enjoyed the experience
She wants to be a fashion model now
2/10 he burnt your vegetable burger and you were really looking forward to having some corn
PANDA
Is a panda
Your younger cousins thought he was adorable
You got asked multiple times if he was a furry
5/10 he was only invited because he had nothing else to do and you had to chase him with a hose beforehand because he refused to bathe
RYOMEN SUKUNA
-1244129/10
An asshole but what’s new
Told your family to “go back to where you came from”
Degraded your parents
Degraded you
Degraded everyone really
You got into a fight with him and Gojo had to intervene
Did ask for one of your mother’s recipes so he could get Uraume to cook it for him
She did not give it to him
TODO AOI
See you thought this would be hell on earth
But it wasn’t???
Played with your dogs
Carried your cousins around on his shoulders
Your uncles were impressed by his muscles
He saved a kitten that was stuck in a tree
Did not ask a single person about their type in women
Annihilated everyone in Wii Sports Resort
Absolutely sucked at Just Dance though
He thought he was too manly for the wrist strap but then he threw the remote into the TV while playing Wii bowling and it broke
6/10 he said he’d pay for a new one
YAGA MASAMICHI
Literally your boss
Only invited him because you wanted a raise
He liked the food
Exchanged sewing tips with your mother
200/10 you got the raise
YOSHINO JUNPEI
Really cool!
Gave everyone good movie recommendations
Someone gave him a baby to hold and he nearly dropped it
Burnt his hand on the grill
Found your uncles’ shitty jokes funny so they all liked him
He was decent at debating with everyone and having intellectual conversations even though he cried whenever someone disagreed with him too harshly
Your parents were very dismayed to see the cigarette burn scars on his face
Your mother told him he could always come to your house if he needed to
4/10 because he almost gave a baby brain damage
ZENIN NAOYA
Told your parents about your sex life
Called your mother “woman”
Your cousins have a crush on him solely based on his looks
He thinks he has a harem now
0/10 they are all like 13 years old
#megumi x reader#toji x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#ijichi x reader#inumaki x reader#itadori x reader#choso x reader#noritoshi x reader#mahito x reader#mechamaru x reader#kokichi x reader#nanami x reader#yuuta x reader#panda x reader#sukuna x reader#todo x reader#yaga x reader#junpei x reader#naoya x reader#tw naoya#reader insert#headcanons#m1ckeyb3rry writes#this is actually so dumb#LMAO#various x reader
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summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.
idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k
content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe
> in which masterlist!
note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼
—
“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.
the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.
you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.
however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.
if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.
“good morning!”
“oh! wait there for a moment!”
jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.
upon your return, his face lights up again.
“here you go!”
he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.
“w-why are you-?”
you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”
“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”
your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?
“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.
a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…
“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”
oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.
“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”
“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”
“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”
“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”
“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”
“i told you— it’s my rest day.”
��you did?”
“while we were texting last night.”
“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”
“you? what are you doing today?”
you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?
“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”
jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”
you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.
“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”
“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”
“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”
your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.
he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?
his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.
“well, now i know.”
—
jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.
a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.
he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.
“are you wearing toe socks?”
“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”
“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.
“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”
“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”
“yeah, you should!”
he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.
“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”
you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.
he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?
“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”
“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”
“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”
“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”
“but it’s embarrassing…”
it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.
“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.
kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…
this is an entirely different world through your lens.
it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.
“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”
he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.
“not because they’re nutritious?”
“that’s the bonus!”
“what is this?”
“cranberry juice.”
“and this?”
“oyster sauce.”
you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.
“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”
“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”
“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”
“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”
“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”
you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.
“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”
and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.
—
the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.
“you never give up, do you?”
“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”
“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.
“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”
you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.
“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”
“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”
the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.
“what’s my height then?”
“aren’t you six feet?”
the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.
“yes, you’re ri-”
“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.
and he winces, guilty as charged.
“you hesitated!”
“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”
“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”
you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.
he calls out your name.
“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.
“want to hear a fact about me?”
you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”
“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”
“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”
at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.
“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”
“what’s your ideal type?”
being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.
“why do you want to know that?”
you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.
“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”
“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”
his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.
“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”
and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.
“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”
because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.
“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”
“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”
every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.
“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”
“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.
you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”
“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.
“but i want to hear you say it.”
“you’re very beautiful, ____.”
“but that’s not-”
“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”
he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.
you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.
—
the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.
beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.
another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.
“hi!”
“hi.”
“what are your plans for the holidays?”
“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”
the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.
jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.
the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.
“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”
you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.
“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”
“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”
he nods in confirmation.
the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.
“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”
and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.
“i’ll watch you too!”
he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.
“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”
“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.
“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”
“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”
his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.
he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”
you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.
“this is tough love!”
jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”
you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”
jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.
“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”
“what are you talking about?!”
oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.
“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”
“maybe you got a bad batch!”
—
“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.
your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.
“shit, how heavy is this?”
you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.
“i’ll come with you!”
“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”
it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.
“let’s go.”
jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.
“this thing is bigger than you.”
an extremely obvious exaggeration.
“i’ll be the one to carry it.“
—
jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.
when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?
“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”
“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”
“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”
“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”
“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”
“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”
“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”
a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.
“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”
“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”
“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”
“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.
“i’m serious!”
“i don’t think i believe you, though…”
“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.
‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’
“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”
“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.
“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.
“we can’t…”
the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”
your lips form a pout.
“my panties…”
you bring a finger to point at the basket.
“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”
“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”
why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!
“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”
his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.
yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.
“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”
“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”
you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.
“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”
—
“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”
the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.
“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”
“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”
he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”
“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”
“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.
“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”
his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.
“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”
your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.
a wish…?
what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?
“did you do it?”
you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.
“what did you wish for?”
“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”
—
jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.
“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”
you gaze switches from him to the living room.
the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.
you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?
it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.
the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.
this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.
—
after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.
once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.
heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.
with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.
—
“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.
you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.
and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.
“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”
you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”
he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.
tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.
you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.
“jungkook?”
“yes?”
“are you cold?”
“freezing.”
you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”
—
the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.
“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.
a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.
he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.
the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.
guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well
and you looked so cool on stage ☺️
merry christmas jungkook ❤️
“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”
seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.
“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”
“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”
“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.
he allows a moment of silence.
his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.
“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”
Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|
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taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook drabble#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook one shot#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook au#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#bts fluff#bts reaction#jungkook smut
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Lesson 1: "White Man Painted Black"?
Okay, I recognize that this is a strong foot to step off on! But! If you learn nothing else from this series, if you decide for whatever reason to forsake me: this is the ONE perspective I'd like you to take away!
You may have heard this quote before, when Black fans deride a character design as 'a white man with the brown bucket tool'. On its face, it means exactly what was said. But specifically, what it means is that we recognize that whomever designed the character drew the way they normally draw for a 'default' character in their mind- default usually meaning White/Eurocentric features- and they added a shade of brown within the line art to make that character now 'Black'.
Now if you're feeling defensive, wait just a moment! This discomfort is not inherently a bad thing!
I'm going to use both a 'real world' example first, to show you what your Black fans and peers are seeing, and perhaps you will also understand our discomfort!
(if anyone was curious, my folder for this lesson is titled 'brad' lmao and you'll see why)
(I'll have y'all know that I actually worked very hard to make Blackface Brad look mildly presentable lmao I'm sorry, I'm wheezing, I can hardly breathe looking at him 🤣)
You see how, despite knowing where this was going, and using one of the darkest shades of brown in my Skin Tones arsenal, you still know that that's Brad Pitt? That nothing about his hair texture, his lips, his nose, or really anything other than the palette change... changed? And you can still see that?
It's incredibly hurtful to be told that that's supposed to be you. You know it's not, you know why it's not, but rather than hearing how it makes you feel unseen and what they could do to be better (since they wanted to draw a Black character!), the artist lashes out at you.
And as an artist, you might have worked VERY HARD to do this! That might be a real handsome guy you drew!! But... is he really Black? Did you walk into it with the intention, that you were drawing a Black Character, or did you draw a character that just happened to be Black? It seems like a silly thing, but it matters!
Okay. I just finished laughing over Brad. Now let's get into some more perspective changes:
Now, imagine you drew a character. You want to make her Black, so you change the hair and skin colors. All right! You have your Black character... right?
Changed ONE feature about her? (You should obviously change more than one feature, but let's just go with the simplified example.)
What if, instead of just changing her palette, we changed her:
Hair?
There isn't nearly enough time in the world, let alone in this little scribble and blurb, for me to describe the IMPORTANCE of Black hair in Black character design. There are so many ways to do curls, afros, braids, twists, locs, SO MANY HAIRSTYLES!! Get used to searching in the 3C-4C hair textures!!!! I plan on doing an entire lesson or two on hair alone, but suffice it to say, Hair Texture is thee BIGGEST giveaway that you 'painted a white person Black'- from cartoon styles to realistic! It reveals itself in your writing as well- just based on how your character takes care of their hair, how your describe the texture, how other people might perceive it... it lets me know just how much research was done. Because we can have straight hair! But again, that's a conversation for a whole 'nother lesson so- come back later 👀?
Lips?
I love our lips, I really do. There's a long history of shaming Black women in particular for the way our lips look. So when I see them done in all their glory, it makes me very happy. Two-toned lips vary in shade and intensity, so make sure you're using references if you want to be 'realistic', but it doesn't have to be that hard. Even a little subtle shift like this in the design/story description lets me know that a creator was thinking about me.
Nose?
One thing I've noticed ever since I starting drawing is that... people in a lot of mangas/manhwas barely have noses! I admit, out of all the features on the face, the nose isn't the most important. I think they should be, especially when you want to emphasize that your characters look different! People have different types of noses! I especially want to gear this towards those with a goal of drawing realistic portraits and the like- there, the nose is ANOTHER dead giveaway. There are Black people with aquiline and straight noses- we aren't a monolith- but is that why you drew it? Consider why you went for that nose specifically. That's part of the intent, in all this!
Now, you might be looking at me and going "Ice... this is just character design". To which my answer is: Yes! It is! It feels so basic, and yet if you ask your Black friends/peers how often they've come across this feeling of not being properly drawn/written, from fanart to professionally produced works, it's unfortunately common despite how simple of a concept it is.
I hope that you can walk away from my first lil lesson with new eyes. Remember, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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