synopsis: you find out devastating news and have a reasonable crashout to the disadvantage of your poor, unsuspecting boyfriend.
pairing: iwaoi (seperate) x fem!reader
warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, reader being mean to her man lol
note: finna be a hot girl summer, but at what cost? :') glad my lover girl didn't let that situation keep her down, and i can't wait for the new music. may or may not do another part - enjoy this thing i made to cope
synopsis: you find out devastating news and have a reasonable crashout to the disadvantage of your poor, unsuspecting boyfriend.
pairing: iwaoi (seperate) x fem!reader
warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, reader being mean to her man lol
note: finna be a hot girl summer, but at what cost? :') glad my lover girl didn't let that situation keep her down, and i can't wait for the new music. may or may not do another part - enjoy this thing i made to cope
hiiii omgg ik ur prolly so done w this series but id love to see a toman version of the fuck it list 🥹🥹🙏 feel free to decline ofcc!!
sigh…since you asked so nicely, I’ll do it for you, anon 🫶🏾🥹
black dragons ver.
synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list.
When you told MIKEY about the list, he found it interesting. Some virgin is sitting around analyzing randoms on campus, fantasizing about how they’d fuck? Priceless.
“Mm. Takemichi’s on here.” He angled his phone to you, a mirthful gaze watching for your reaction. When your nose scrunched in mild discomfort, he snorted. “Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Seven out of ten, my ass.”
You gently slapped his shoulder. “Don’t be mean, I wasn’t thinking that. He might be great in bed.”
Mikey rolled his eyes, nuzzling into your midriff whilst still scrolling through his feed. “Tsk, no shot in hell. I practically grew up with the guy. He has absolutely no play.”
“He bagged Hina, didn’t he?” You carded through his hair, gently taking out any tangles.
“I’m just as shocked as you are.”
You chortled, despite reprimanding just moments ago. There’s no denying his friend wasn’t the smoothest, but didn’t mean he was completely helpless. You shrugged, “Well, clearly some people think he’s a great fuck. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been posted.”
The blonde paused for a millisecond. Then, with a swiftness that caught you slightly off guard, his head shot up to look you dead in the face. “What about me?”
You blinked. “What about you?”
“I’m not posted on it. What does that make me?” He spoke with a tone that borderlined vulnerable. After a moment, you shook your head, then gently knocked the side of his with your knuckle.
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“You don’t think I’m fuckable?"
“Oh my god.” You groaned, trying to turn your body to face away from his ridiculousness, but he refused to relent. His grip tightened around you, keeping you locked against him. “Mikey-”
“Tell me.” He all but whined, gently rocking you.
“Okay, yes,” you replied. He obviously wasn’t convinced judging on his displeased frown.
“Liar! Then I’d be on the list!”
With a groan, you held both sides of his face. “Mikey, baby, sweet boy, the list is based solely on looks.”
His brows scrunched, “What, you don’t think I look fuckable?”
“That’s not it. How do you look majority of the time?”
“…Handsome.”
“Bummy.” You deadpanned, reaching down to tug on the stretched out collar of his tank top. Mikey squinted. “At least Takemichi cleans up nice once in a while. And not always wearing fuck-ass flip flops.”
“You like my fuck-ass flip flops.”
“Well, seems the public ain’t rocking with them.”
He kisses his teeth. “Whatever. t’s a dumb list anyway, I don’t care...”
You chuckled as he flopped into the crook of your neck, his ears turning pink. The topic pretty much dropped from there and wasn’t revisited until later that evening, when Mikey sent you a link to the updated forum with a message attached.
from : michelangelo ♡
9:07pm
“ my fuck-ass flip flops - 1.
[_____] - 0. ”
'Manjiro “Mikey” Sano. 5’4ft blonde menace with attachment issues. And by that we mean if he was given the chance, he would live in your skin. Certified clinger. Velcro baby. No matter the label, just know he’ll be shameless about it. The same could be said for the bedroom. We all know he’s forever smacking and snacking on something—Chips, candy, dorayaki—who’s to say you aren’t on the menu? Hands down the munchiest MUNCH on the planet. A giver and a taker. Greedy, greedy, G R E E D Y. If you so much as give an inch, he’ll take a nautical mile. However, he is L A Z Y. A dom-leaning switch for sure, who’ll end up a pillow prince if he’s tired enough. You’ll get minimum aftercare outta him before he’s out cold. It doesn’t matter if he’s still between your thighs, it’s a wrap. You’re stuck there for a couple hours, tops. At least once he wakes up, there’s a nice motorcycle ride and a big meal in your future to make up for the leg cramps. 9/10.'
You could only shake your head. Then, replied with a simple:
to : michelangelo ♡
9:10pm
“ congrats, munch. ”
He gave it a thumbs down.
“What do you mean you didn’t post it?”
The confusion in the air was palpable, one could taste the question marks. DRAKEN knew of the list, but not by much. He figured it was just some anonymous forum where people could express their feelings about another person without repercussion. At least, that was his understanding. So, when he asked you not to air out your sex life to the world, thinking you had something to do with it, safe to say he soon realized he truly had no idea of its purpose.
'Ken “Draken” Ryuguji. 6’1ft of HOUSE REAL BIG. CAR REAL BIG. DICK REAL BIG. DICK REAL BIG. DICK REAL BI—You get the idea. Knowing his background and how he was raised, there’s no doubt he wouldn’t treat you with the utmost respect. The bar is in hell, but he’s carrying it on his shoulders like a champ. Despite him being dense with romance, he makes up for it with sincerity and earnestness. He’s reliable in many ways—Hungry? He’s already ordering. Sleepy? His lap’s ready and waiting. Horny? He’s blowing your back out then tucking you in before clocking in for work. Very much a Dom, no questions asked. Whether he’s gonna be hard or soft depends on the type of energy you’re bringing to the table. So…might wanna tread lightly. Or don’t. It’ll be your organs getting rearranged at the end of the day. 10/10.'
“Yeah, that isn’t exactly how it works. Only one person runs the account as far as I know. They take submissions and whatnot, but normally they randomly pick who they want to post . I’ll say though, I’m not surprised you thought it was me. This is freaky accurate.”
Draken raised a brow. “You sayin’ I’m dense?”
You gave a lofty shrug. “Just…impressed with how they were able to get some things right. Only some. You aren’t exactly fluent in romance.”
He kissed his teeth, crossing his arms. “Right. Why do I get the feeling you’re enjoying this right now?”
“I’m not!” You said, immediately struggling to fight a grin.
“Uh-huh.”
“C’mon, you gotta admit it’s a little funny. You’ve clearly got admirers, Kenny. And I can’t say I disagree with their analysis. You definitely raise the standard for how men should act, in and out of the bedroom.”
Draken flicked your forehead. He grinned at your whined protest, already trying to soothe the small ache with his thumb as you pouted at him. “I take it back, you suck.”
“Yeah? Just like that, huh.” He winded his long arms around you, hauling you into his lap with ease. You gave little resistance, but made it a show of acting indifferent as you upturned your nose at him. The twin dragon smirked, reaching up to take your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I can live with that. As long as you still want me.”
You eyed him, lips pursed. After a brief moment of feigned contemplation, you relented. Leaning down to nuzzle your nose against his, you sighed. “Fine. Only because you have a huge dick.”
Nearly choking on air, Draken looked at you incredulously. Then, once he noticed the teasing glint in your gaze, he glared before gently pinching your thigh in retaliation. “Brat.”
BAJI didn’t really keep up with the trends. Safe to say he knew absolutely nothing about the list that’s been sending the campus into a frenzy. Even when you inevitably caught wind of it and tried to convince him to discuss it with you, you’d have had better luck convincing a brick wall.
“Kei, aren’t you a little curious about what it means?” You fiddled with his glasses, much to his dismay as he tried to focus on reading this difficult paragraph. “Hellooo? Are you listening to me?”
“I’m trynna focus, knock it off.” He lazily shook you off, holding the book closer to his face.
You huffed. “You’ve been stuck on that page for ten minutes. Not like you’re making much progress.”
He glared at you from over the book. “Shuddup. You buggin’ about shit I don’t care about isn’t gonna make me go faster. I don’t get why you wanna talk about it so bad in the first place.”
“Unbelievable. You really weren’t listening to a single thing I said.” He shrugged in response. With a shake of your head, you explained once more. “Because, Keisuke, you got posted on it earlier today.”
“…What.”
You nodded. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“Why the hell am I on it?”
You crossed your arms, smug. “Oh, now you’re interested. What happened to not giving a shit?”
“I don’t, until it involves me.” Baji sets down the book, scooting his chair closer to yours until he’s fully invaded your space. Before you could hit him with another smart remark, he shot you a small glare. "Don't start. Show me."
"Tsk."
'Keisuke Baji. 5’9ft walking Pantene commercial, with a short fuse ready to blow at any time, so proceed with caution. This isn’t to say he’s a danger to you, far from it, but he will be a ginormous headache. Can’t keep his hands to HIMSELF. He’s touchy, no matter where you are or who is present, his hands are somewhere they shouldn’t be. Sure, he’s rough around the edges, but there’s a hopeless romantic deep, deep, DEEP down. If you squint. Please squint. The collective agrees he’s definitely a hard dom. Once he puts his signature ponytail in, he’s fucking you like he hates you—Light choking, hair pulling, biting. Then, several rounds later, he’s cuddling you close whilst whispering small reassurances into your ear. Nothing flowery, just purely him. That’s as much aftercare you’ll get out of him before he passes out. 8/10.'
He stared hard at the screen. If you listened closely, you could hear the gears turning in his head, contemplating his next words…or his next move. One pregnant pause later, Baji kissed his teeth in annoyance, gesturing vaguely at the phone. “Man. Had me thinking it was a call out post by some punk wanting to fight. Not some horny bullshit. Knew it was stupid.”
“It’s not stupid! It’s entertaining.” You defended, earning a disbelieved stare from the ravenette. With that, you scoffed, kicking at his chair. “Oh, what do you know? You think knocking someone unconscious is considered fun.”
“More fun than reading that. It’s not even true. I don’t cuddle.”
You snorted, arms crossed. “You saying that’s the only part you have an issue with? Out of everything else, cuddling’s where you drew the line?”
By now, Baji had lifted the book back up to his face, but you could tell he was growing flustered based on how tightly he gripped the edges. “...Shuddup.”
Irritated couldn’t begin to describe how you felt at this very moment. The bubbling pit of pure jealousy that simmered in your stomach as you were forced to watch your boyfriend politely interact with his new fanclub wasn't ideal. MITSUYA was a favorite amongst the students, if not the it-boy on campus alongside his taller friend, Hakkai Shiba. Renowned designer in the making with his aspiring modeling companion, of course they’d draw in attention.
Unfortunately, compared to Hakkai, your man was nothing short of a social butterfly, willing to indulge and with the patience of a saint. He was an energy that people just naturally gravitated to.
And it only worsened after a particular post was made.
'Takashi Mitsuya. 5’7ft green flag that was written by a woman. A bit of a headscratcher, to be honest. On one hand, he’s an old fashioned gentleman with a sense of style, who takes care of those around him—The nurturing type. On the other hand, he’s a roughhouser with a mean left and right, and won’t hesitate to put you in your place if you wanna get buck with him—The strict type. He’s not a monolith, baby’s got range. So that’s why he’s ABSOLUTELY a switch. Growing up being the man of the household, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to think he craved being taken care of; pampered, if you will. It would be somewhat equal in the bedroom, but he’s inclined to give you more than he takes. And don’t even get us started on aftercare. Rose petal bath, oil massage, home cooked meal hot and ready…12/10.'
To think his popularity couldn’t get any worse, now instead of just his club members fawning over him, damn near anyone with a pulse approached him in hopes of catching a crumb of his attention.
Although it was subtle, you could clearly see the exhaustion on his face. He had been working a lot lately, dealing with home life on top of school, keeping up with his former gang members and trying to balance a relationship–It can get to be a bit much. And now, anywhere and everywhere he went, felt like a spectacle.
After a while, you loudly cleared your throat to interrupt the little meet-and-greet. All eyes instantly drifted over to you, some curious whilst the majority weren’t so thrilled to see you standing there. You made a show of smiling and giving a small wave, unperturbed by their snark.
Mitusya, thankful for the interruption, spoke, “Alright, guys, it’s been nice chatting with you all, but I really should be going now. [____] and I have plans. Can’t keep ‘em waiting for too long.”
Collective groans and grumbles were heard amongst the crowd, some even commenting on how you ruined their good time. Of which, he didn’t take too kindly. “Hey. None of that. I’ve given you more than enough of my time. Show them the same respect you show me, and nothing less. We clear?”
The group snapped to attention at his disapproving tone before shrinking within themselves, meekly apologizing. One would think they’d feel shame for the childish behavior, but judging on their flustered and dazed grins, safe to say they were totally into being reprimanded. Especially from their favorite golden boy. No doubt they’d use this to fuel whatever fantasy they’ve conjured in their head about him. You fought back the urge to throw up in your mouth.
Later on, during your walk back to his apartment, you couldn’t help but chuckle thinking back on the whole thing. Mitsuya, with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, gave you an affectionate squeeze. “What’s so funny, hm?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yeah,” you gave a squeeze back, looking up at him. “Everything was sunshine and rainbows until you felt a line was crossed. You aren’t beating the ‘switch’ allegations any time soon.”
Mitsuya chortled. "It’s basic human decency.”
“Yeah, well, you make it look hot. Like everything else you do. It’s annoying.”
He shook his head, giving you another squeeze before kissing your temple. "I'm grateful you put up with me and my annoyingly hot self. Please continue doing so."
Just like Baji, KAZUTORA knew very little about the list, if anything at all. He didn’t understand the point, nor did he care to find out. That is until he’s being clowned left and right by his friends in the groupchat. Now he’s got no choice but to do some investigating. And what he found was utterly mortifying.
'Kazutora Hanemiya. 5’9ft red flag that was written by a man with both mommy and daddy issues, who’s never been touched by a woman. With that being said, he’s a textbook sub-leaning switch. He’s an overthinker, so you’ll be the one most likely calling the shots/taking the lead. And he’ll be an avid follower. Maybe even a worshiper. His anxiousness will fuel his inferiority complex, which then will fuel his need to overcompensate and overly please—You say jump, he’ll say “fuck off” while already going as high as he can. He’s also very much a voyeur. Loves to watch, those big eyes need to see every micro expression, soak in just how good he’s working your body for his spank-bank later. Also a bit of a masochist, glutton for punishment if it means you stepping on him then tonguing him down after. Deductions for being a felon. Kinda hot, but besides the point. 8/10.'
How does one even respond to something like this? His entire body felt like it was on fire, face flushed something terrible as he read the paragraph over, and over, and over. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way this was happening. Somebody took time out of their day to plaster this all over the internet, and had the nerve to be anonymous.
Just his luck.
What was there even to gain from this? Humiliation? Revenge? What kind of sick fuck would just say these things as if they were gospel, like they had insider information that needed to be shared. Kazutora racked his brain for a lead, a small clue to point him in the right direction of any potential suspects responsible. That included you.
“You can’t seriously think I had anything to do with that.”
“If not you, then who else?”
“Literally anyone else. The hell I look like posting about how you fuck me to strangers on the internet. Porn is free, they don’t need my help to feed their gooning addictions.” You replied with a scoff, continuing to flip through one of his mangakas you borrowed.
He huffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, guess I can’t argue with that. How am I supposed to narrow down my search from just ‘anyone’.”
“You don’t. No one knows who they are, and probably never will. It’s nothing but drama, and it’ll all blow over with time, so don’t stress.”
“Easy for you to say. You aren’t getting sent links for ball clamps and vibrating butt-plugs from your friends.”
You paused from reading, slowly peering at him from over the book. A small glint twinkles in your eye, sending an uneasy chill down his spine. “What’s that look for? Quit it. It’s creepy…”
“Do you…still have those links?”
Kazutora glared. “Fuck no. Even if I did, you ain’t getting ‘em.”
You glared back. Then, shortly after, a wicked grin spread on your face. “That’s fine. I’ll just ask Mikey to send them to me.”
He stiffened. "You will not."
“Try me."
“I’ll kill you both.”
“See you in hell, I guess.” You easily replied, already tapping away to a certain blonde gremlin.
Compared to the others, PAH would be like a clean slate. Didn’t matter how many times you brought it up, explained it, broke it down—He was going to forget every time. It wasn’t rocket science, but it was complicated enough to where he just couldn’t grasp the concept. That is, until you summarized it perfectly.
“It’s like when you’d look at nudey magazines all the time back in middle school. You didn’t know the girls on the pages, but you fantasized about what they would be like if you slept with them. Y’know, because they’re so attractive. Except instead of supermodels, it’s your fellow students. Makes it more obtainable, more real.”
He hummed along, stroking his chin. “Yeahhh, yeah, I’m following, that makes total sense when you put it like that. You’re really smart, [_____]. How’d you come up with that?”
Endeared, you merely shrugged. “Guess I’m just that good.”
“Damn right. Wait, so if you’re on the list, does that mean someone sees you as jerk-off material?”
“Er…that’s definitely one way to put it. Sure.”
Pah sat there in contemplative silence. His mouth was slightly agape, his stare blank and resembling that of an old computer rebooting. You tilted your head, “You good? Did I lose you?”
“...I think…someone’s out there jerking it to my face.”
You eyes widened to the size of plates. “O-Oh?”
He slowly nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t think much of it when Peh showed it to me. Frankly forgot about it until now.”
Pah whipped out his phone, and after scrolling for the exact text his aforementioned friend had sent to him a while back, he handed it over. “See, look.”
After taking the phone and briefly reading the message, you clicked on the link.
'Haruki “Pah” Hayashida. 5’4ft yakuza in the making. If you judged him off looks, you wouldn’t dare cross his path on the street let alone roll around in the sheets with him. However, don’t let his harsh exterior fool you, he’s a real softy through and through. Although he’s dense as a rock, maybe even more, he’s insanely loyal. Not to mention an eater. Another certified MUNCH. Going down on you would be the highlight of his week, you’d become part of his daily nutrition. He gives soft dom, wouldn’t have the heart to be mean to you or degrade you, but would love to take care of everything for you. Forgets about his own pleasure because he’s so invested in yours, and even if you insist on returning the favor, nine times out of ten it’ll end with you being the focus. 7/10 because he definitely shares way too many details with his best friend, Peh.'
You read through it a couple times, lips curled inward to suppress the giggle you so desperately wanted to let out, especially with how earnestly he watched you for any sign of discomfort. “W-Wow. This is…I’m speechless. They really nailed you down to a science, can’t say I have any complaints. Except for maybe the last part. Not sure how accurate that is. Care to elaborate?”
His brows scrunched in confusion. Leaning closer to see what you were referring to, Pah could only give you a sheepish look. “...I don’t actually share that many details with Peh. Mainly surface level stuff, y’know, just to brag a little. But nothing personal. Honest.”
A snort had slipped out, reaching up you gently pinched his chubby cheek. “I believe you. But, maybe we keep those things behind closed doors moving forward, hm?”
Pah leaned into your touch, hearts practically swirling above his head as he nodded. “Whatever you want, ma.”
hiiii omgg ik ur prolly so done w this series but id love to see a toman version of the fuck it list 🥹🥹🙏 feel free to decline ofcc!!
sigh…since you asked so nicely, I’ll do it for you, anon 🫶🏾🥹
black dragons ver.
synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list.
When you told MIKEY about the list, he found it interesting. Some virgin is sitting around analyzing randoms on campus, fantasizing about how they’d fuck? Priceless.
“Mm. Takemichi’s on here.” He angled his phone to you, a mirthful gaze watching for your reaction. When your nose scrunched in mild discomfort, he snorted. “Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Seven out of ten, my ass.”
You gently slapped his shoulder. “Don’t be mean, I wasn’t thinking that. He might be great in bed.”
Mikey rolled his eyes, nuzzling into your midriff whilst still scrolling through his feed. “Tsk, no shot in hell. I practically grew up with the guy. He has absolutely no play.”
“He bagged Hina, didn’t he?” You carded through his hair, gently taking out any tangles.
“I’m just as shocked as you are.”
You chortled, despite reprimanding just moments ago. There’s no denying his friend wasn’t the smoothest, but didn’t mean he was completely helpless. You shrugged, “Well, clearly some people think he’s a great fuck. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been posted.”
The blonde paused for a millisecond. Then, with a swiftness that caught you slightly off guard, his head shot up to look you dead in the face. “What about me?”
You blinked. “What about you?”
“I’m not posted on it. What does that make me?” He spoke with a tone that borderlined vulnerable. After a moment, you shook your head, then gently knocked the side of his with your knuckle.
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“You don’t think I’m fuckable?"
“Oh my god.” You groaned, trying to turn your body to face away from his ridiculousness, but he refused to relent. His grip tightened around you, keeping you locked against him. “Mikey-”
“Tell me.” He all but whined, gently rocking you.
“Okay, yes,” you replied. He obviously wasn’t convinced judging on his displeased frown.
“Liar! Then I’d be on the list!”
With a groan, you held both sides of his face. “Mikey, baby, sweet boy, the list is based solely on looks.”
His brows scrunched, “What, you don’t think I look fuckable?”
“That’s not it. How do you look majority of the time?”
“…Handsome.”
“Bummy.” You deadpanned, reaching down to tug on the stretched out collar of his tank top. Mikey squinted. “At least Takemichi cleans up nice once in a while. And not always wearing fuck-ass flip flops.”
“You like my fuck-ass flip flops.”
“Well, seems the public ain’t rocking with them.”
He kisses his teeth. “Whatever. t’s a dumb list anyway, I don’t care...”
You chuckled as he flopped into the crook of your neck, his ears turning pink. The topic pretty much dropped from there and wasn’t revisited until later that evening, when Mikey sent you a link to the updated forum with a message attached.
from : michelangelo ♡
9:07pm
“ my fuck-ass flip flops - 1.
[_____] - 0. ”
'Manjiro “Mikey” Sano. 5’4ft blonde menace with attachment issues. And by that we mean if he was given the chance, he would live in your skin. Certified clinger. Velcro baby. No matter the label, just know he’ll be shameless about it. The same could be said for the bedroom. We all know he’s forever smacking and snacking on something—Chips, candy, dorayaki—who’s to say you aren’t on the menu? Hands down the munchiest MUNCH on the planet. A giver and a taker. Greedy, greedy, G R E E D Y. If you so much as give an inch, he’ll take a nautical mile. However, he is L A Z Y. A dom-leaning switch for sure, who’ll end up a pillow prince if he’s tired enough. You’ll get minimum aftercare outta him before he’s out cold. It doesn’t matter if he’s still between your thighs, it’s a wrap. You’re stuck there for a couple hours, tops. At least once he wakes up, there’s a nice motorcycle ride and a big meal in your future to make up for the leg cramps. 9/10.'
You could only shake your head. Then, replied with a simple:
to : michelangelo ♡
9:10pm
“ congrats, munch. ”
He gave it a thumbs down.
“What do you mean you didn’t post it?”
The confusion in the air was palpable, one could taste the question marks. DRAKEN knew of the list, but not by much. He figured it was just some anonymous forum where people could express their feelings about another person without repercussion. At least, that was his understanding. So, when he asked you not to air out your sex life to the world, thinking you had something to do with it, safe to say he soon realized he truly had no idea of its purpose.
'Ken “Draken” Ryuguji. 6’1ft of HOUSE REAL BIG. CAR REAL BIG. DICK REAL BIG. DICK REAL BIG. DICK REAL BI—You get the idea. Knowing his background and how he was raised, there’s no doubt he wouldn’t treat you with the utmost respect. The bar is in hell, but he’s carrying it on his shoulders like a champ. Despite him being dense with romance, he makes up for it with sincerity and earnestness. He’s reliable in many ways—Hungry? He’s already ordering. Sleepy? His lap’s ready and waiting. Horny? He’s blowing your back out then tucking you in before clocking in for work. Very much a Dom, no questions asked. Whether he’s gonna be hard or soft depends on the type of energy you’re bringing to the table. So…might wanna tread lightly. Or don’t. It’ll be your organs getting rearranged at the end of the day. 10/10.'
“Yeah, that isn’t exactly how it works. Only one person runs the account as far as I know. They take submissions and whatnot, but normally they randomly pick who they want to post . I’ll say though, I’m not surprised you thought it was me. This is freaky accurate.”
Draken raised a brow. “You sayin’ I’m dense?”
You gave a lofty shrug. “Just…impressed with how they were able to get some things right. Only some. You aren’t exactly fluent in romance.”
He kissed his teeth, crossing his arms. “Right. Why do I get the feeling you’re enjoying this right now?”
“I’m not!” You said, immediately struggling to fight a grin.
“Uh-huh.”
“C’mon, you gotta admit it’s a little funny. You’ve clearly got admirers, Kenny. And I can’t say I disagree with their analysis. You definitely raise the standard for how men should act, in and out of the bedroom.”
Draken flicked your forehead. He grinned at your whined protest, already trying to soothe the small ache with his thumb as you pouted at him. “I take it back, you suck.”
“Yeah? Just like that, huh.” He winded his long arms around you, hauling you into his lap with ease. You gave little resistance, but made it a show of acting indifferent as you upturned your nose at him. The twin dragon smirked, reaching up to take your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I can live with that. As long as you still want me.”
You eyed him, lips pursed. After a brief moment of feigned contemplation, you relented. Leaning down to nuzzle your nose against his, you sighed. “Fine. Only because you have a huge dick.”
Nearly choking on air, Draken looked at you incredulously. Then, once he noticed the teasing glint in your gaze, he glared before gently pinching your thigh in retaliation. “Brat.”
BAJI didn’t really keep up with the trends. Safe to say he knew absolutely nothing about the list that’s been sending the campus into a frenzy. Even when you inevitably caught wind of it and tried to convince him to discuss it with you, you’d have had better luck convincing a brick wall.
“Kei, aren’t you a little curious about what it means?” You fiddled with his glasses, much to his dismay as he tried to focus on reading this difficult paragraph. “Hellooo? Are you listening to me?”
“I’m trynna focus, knock it off.” He lazily shook you off, holding the book closer to his face.
You huffed. “You’ve been stuck on that page for ten minutes. Not like you’re making much progress.”
He glared at you from over the book. “Shuddup. You buggin’ about shit I don’t care about isn’t gonna make me go faster. I don’t get why you wanna talk about it so bad in the first place.”
“Unbelievable. You really weren’t listening to a single thing I said.” He shrugged in response. With a shake of your head, you explained once more. “Because, Keisuke, you got posted on it earlier today.”
“…What.”
You nodded. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“Why the hell am I on it?”
You crossed your arms, smug. “Oh, now you’re interested. What happened to not giving a shit?”
“I don’t, until it involves me.” Baji sets down the book, scooting his chair closer to yours until he’s fully invaded your space. Before you could hit him with another smart remark, he shot you a small glare. "Don't start. Show me."
"Tsk."
'Keisuke Baji. 5’9ft walking Pantene commercial, with a short fuse ready to blow at any time, so proceed with caution. This isn’t to say he’s a danger to you, far from it, but he will be a ginormous headache. Can’t keep his hands to HIMSELF. He’s touchy, no matter where you are or who is present, his hands are somewhere they shouldn’t be. Sure, he’s rough around the edges, but there’s a hopeless romantic deep, deep, DEEP down. If you squint. Please squint. The collective agrees he’s definitely a hard dom. Once he puts his signature ponytail in, he’s fucking you like he hates you—Light choking, hair pulling, biting. Then, several rounds later, he’s cuddling you close whilst whispering small reassurances into your ear. Nothing flowery, just purely him. That’s as much aftercare you’ll get out of him before he passes out. 8/10.'
He stared hard at the screen. If you listened closely, you could hear the gears turning in his head, contemplating his next words…or his next move. One pregnant pause later, Baji kissed his teeth in annoyance, gesturing vaguely at the phone. “Man. Had me thinking it was a call out post by some punk wanting to fight. Not some horny bullshit. Knew it was stupid.”
“It’s not stupid! It’s entertaining.” You defended, earning a disbelieved stare from the ravenette. With that, you scoffed, kicking at his chair. “Oh, what do you know? You think knocking someone unconscious is considered fun.”
“More fun than reading that. It’s not even true. I don’t cuddle.”
You snorted, arms crossed. “You saying that’s the only part you have an issue with? Out of everything else, cuddling’s where you drew the line?”
By now, Baji had lifted the book back up to his face, but you could tell he was growing flustered based on how tightly he gripped the edges. “...Shuddup.”
Irritated couldn’t begin to describe how you felt at this very moment. The bubbling pit of pure jealousy that simmered in your stomach as you were forced to watch your boyfriend politely interact with his new fanclub wasn't ideal. MITSUYA was a favorite amongst the students, if not the it-boy on campus alongside his taller friend, Hakkai Shiba. Renowned designer in the making with his aspiring modeling companion, of course they’d draw in attention.
Unfortunately, compared to Hakkai, your man was nothing short of a social butterfly, willing to indulge and with the patience of a saint. He was an energy that people just naturally gravitated to.
And it only worsened after a particular post was made.
'Takashi Mitsuya. 5’7ft green flag that was written by a woman. A bit of a headscratcher, to be honest. On one hand, he’s an old fashioned gentleman with a sense of style, who takes care of those around him—The nurturing type. On the other hand, he’s a roughhouser with a mean left and right, and won’t hesitate to put you in your place if you wanna get buck with him—The strict type. He’s not a monolith, baby’s got range. So that’s why he’s ABSOLUTELY a switch. Growing up being the man of the household, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to think he craved being taken care of; pampered, if you will. It would be somewhat equal in the bedroom, but he’s inclined to give you more than he takes. And don’t even get us started on aftercare. Rose petal bath, oil massage, home cooked meal hot and ready…12/10.'
To think his popularity couldn’t get any worse, now instead of just his club members fawning over him, damn near anyone with a pulse approached him in hopes of catching a crumb of his attention.
Although it was subtle, you could clearly see the exhaustion on his face. He had been working a lot lately, dealing with home life on top of school, keeping up with his former gang members and trying to balance a relationship–It can get to be a bit much. And now, anywhere and everywhere he went, felt like a spectacle.
After a while, you loudly cleared your throat to interrupt the little meet-and-greet. All eyes instantly drifted over to you, some curious whilst the majority weren’t so thrilled to see you standing there. You made a show of smiling and giving a small wave, unperturbed by their snark.
Mitusya, thankful for the interruption, spoke, “Alright, guys, it’s been nice chatting with you all, but I really should be going now. [____] and I have plans. Can’t keep ‘em waiting for too long.”
Collective groans and grumbles were heard amongst the crowd, some even commenting on how you ruined their good time. Of which, he didn’t take too kindly. “Hey. None of that. I’ve given you more than enough of my time. Show them the same respect you show me, and nothing less. We clear?”
The group snapped to attention at his disapproving tone before shrinking within themselves, meekly apologizing. One would think they’d feel shame for the childish behavior, but judging on their flustered and dazed grins, safe to say they were totally into being reprimanded. Especially from their favorite golden boy. No doubt they’d use this to fuel whatever fantasy they’ve conjured in their head about him. You fought back the urge to throw up in your mouth.
Later on, during your walk back to his apartment, you couldn’t help but chuckle thinking back on the whole thing. Mitsuya, with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, gave you an affectionate squeeze. “What’s so funny, hm?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yeah,” you gave a squeeze back, looking up at him. “Everything was sunshine and rainbows until you felt a line was crossed. You aren’t beating the ‘switch’ allegations any time soon.”
Mitsuya chortled. "It’s basic human decency.”
“Yeah, well, you make it look hot. Like everything else you do. It’s annoying.”
He shook his head, giving you another squeeze before kissing your temple. "I'm grateful you put up with me and my annoyingly hot self. Please continue doing so."
Just like Baji, KAZUTORA knew very little about the list, if anything at all. He didn’t understand the point, nor did he care to find out. That is until he’s being clowned left and right by his friends in the groupchat. Now he’s got no choice but to do some investigating. And what he found was utterly mortifying.
'Kazutora Hanemiya. 5’9ft red flag that was written by a man with both mommy and daddy issues, who’s never been touched by a woman. With that being said, he’s a textbook sub-leaning switch. He’s an overthinker, so you’ll be the one most likely calling the shots/taking the lead. And he’ll be an avid follower. Maybe even a worshiper. His anxiousness will fuel his inferiority complex, which then will fuel his need to overcompensate and overly please—You say jump, he’ll say “fuck off” while already going as high as he can. He’s also very much a voyeur. Loves to watch, those big eyes need to see every micro expression, soak in just how good he’s working your body for his spank-bank later. Also a bit of a masochist, glutton for punishment if it means you stepping on him then tonguing him down after. Deductions for being a felon. Kinda hot, but besides the point. 8/10.'
How does one even respond to something like this? His entire body felt like it was on fire, face flushed something terrible as he read the paragraph over, and over, and over. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way this was happening. Somebody took time out of their day to plaster this all over the internet, and had the nerve to be anonymous.
Just his luck.
What was there even to gain from this? Humiliation? Revenge? What kind of sick fuck would just say these things as if they were gospel, like they had insider information that needed to be shared. Kazutora racked his brain for a lead, a small clue to point him in the right direction of any potential suspects responsible. That included you.
“You can’t seriously think I had anything to do with that.”
“If not you, then who else?”
“Literally anyone else. The hell I look like posting about how you fuck me to strangers on the internet. Porn is free, they don’t need my help to feed their gooning addictions.” You replied with a scoff, continuing to flip through one of his mangakas you borrowed.
He huffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, guess I can’t argue with that. How am I supposed to narrow down my search from just ‘anyone’.”
“You don’t. No one knows who they are, and probably never will. It’s nothing but drama, and it’ll all blow over with time, so don’t stress.”
“Easy for you to say. You aren’t getting sent links for ball clamps and vibrating butt-plugs from your friends.”
You paused from reading, slowly peering at him from over the book. A small glint twinkles in your eye, sending an uneasy chill down his spine. “What’s that look for? Quit it. It’s creepy…”
“Do you…still have those links?”
Kazutora glared. “Fuck no. Even if I did, you ain’t getting ‘em.”
You glared back. Then, shortly after, a wicked grin spread on your face. “That’s fine. I’ll just ask Mikey to send them to me.”
He stiffened. "You will not."
“Try me."
“I’ll kill you both.”
“See you in hell, I guess.” You easily replied, already tapping away to a certain blonde gremlin.
Compared to the others, PAH would be like a clean slate. Didn’t matter how many times you brought it up, explained it, broke it down—He was going to forget every time. It wasn’t rocket science, but it was complicated enough to where he just couldn’t grasp the concept. That is, until you summarized it perfectly.
“It’s like when you’d look at nudey magazines all the time back in middle school. You didn’t know the girls on the pages, but you fantasized about what they would be like if you slept with them. Y’know, because they’re so attractive. Except instead of supermodels, it’s your fellow students. Makes it more obtainable, more real.”
He hummed along, stroking his chin. “Yeahhh, yeah, I’m following, that makes total sense when you put it like that. You’re really smart, [_____]. How’d you come up with that?”
Endeared, you merely shrugged. “Guess I’m just that good.”
“Damn right. Wait, so if you’re on the list, does that mean someone sees you as jerk-off material?”
“Er…that’s definitely one way to put it. Sure.”
Pah sat there in contemplative silence. His mouth was slightly agape, his stare blank and resembling that of an old computer rebooting. You tilted your head, “You good? Did I lose you?”
“...I think…someone’s out there jerking it to my face.”
You eyes widened to the size of plates. “O-Oh?”
He slowly nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t think much of it when Peh showed it to me. Frankly forgot about it until now.”
Pah whipped out his phone, and after scrolling for the exact text his aforementioned friend had sent to him a while back, he handed it over. “See, look.”
After taking the phone and briefly reading the message, you clicked on the link.
'Haruki “Pah” Hayashida. 5’4ft yakuza in the making. If you judged him off looks, you wouldn’t dare cross his path on the street let alone roll around in the sheets with him. However, don’t let his harsh exterior fool you, he’s a real softy through and through. Although he’s dense as a rock, maybe even more, he’s insanely loyal. Not to mention an eater. Another certified MUNCH. Going down on you would be the highlight of his week, you’d become part of his daily nutrition. He gives soft dom, wouldn’t have the heart to be mean to you or degrade you, but would love to take care of everything for you. Forgets about his own pleasure because he’s so invested in yours, and even if you insist on returning the favor, nine times out of ten it’ll end with you being the focus. 7/10 because he definitely shares way too many details with his best friend, Peh.'
You read through it a couple times, lips curled inward to suppress the giggle you so desperately wanted to let out, especially with how earnestly he watched you for any sign of discomfort. “W-Wow. This is…I’m speechless. They really nailed you down to a science, can’t say I have any complaints. Except for maybe the last part. Not sure how accurate that is. Care to elaborate?”
His brows scrunched in confusion. Leaning closer to see what you were referring to, Pah could only give you a sheepish look. “...I don’t actually share that many details with Peh. Mainly surface level stuff, y’know, just to brag a little. But nothing personal. Honest.”
A snort had slipped out, reaching up you gently pinched his chubby cheek. “I believe you. But, maybe we keep those things behind closed doors moving forward, hm?”
Pah leaned into your touch, hearts practically swirling above his head as he nodded. “Whatever you want, ma.”
i’ll make this short and sweet—Still here, like a ghost wandering around your feed, but still very much here and writing. i’ve got quite a lot of stuff cooking sooooo
When MIKEY hears his precious heart call out to him, a small part of him jolts almost every time. Not out of fear, not out of annoyance…but out of shock. As if the concept of being someone’s father still hadn’t fully registered. He fears closing his eyes, and waking to this being nothing but a dream. That he’ll never get to hear that sweet, little voice again. Sometimes, he takes his time answering back to make sure it was still his reality. “Papa!”
Eventually, he replied. “Mm?”
Gemma gripped onto his pants leg to scale him like a mountain. Mikey lazily cupped her underarms to lift her into his lap, hooded eyes staring down at her beaming face. “Hi.”
With a soft snort, Mikey leaned downward to nuzzle his nose against hers. “Hi, sweetheart.”
The sunlight peeked through the blackout curtains without remorse, melting across your frame like nature’s heated blanket. Blearily, your eyes scrunched open with a defiant groan, arm stretching up to shield your poor peepers only to stop short in motion.
Your arm. Why can you move it?
Usually, there’s an immovable object wrapped around you like a snake, caging you against his chest as if space alone offended him greatly. You blinked. Turning on your side, you found the space to be empty. Odd. If there’s anything your husband wasn’t, it’s a morning person. Not to mention…how quiet it was.
Your daughter. She wasn’t here, trying to force you out of bed with all her tiny might. You stilled, expecting the inevitable pitter-patter of her feet running down the hall, calling out to you at the top of her lungs…only it never came.
You abruptly sat up. The immediate protest from your joints doesn’t stop you from scrambling out of bed, already thinking of the worst case scenario for such a silence.
Someone was hurt.
Someone was dead.
Numerous thoughts, none of them hopeful. You threw open the door, no time for pants, slippers an afterthought as you thump thump thumped down the hall and toward the living room. And when you turned the corner…
“Papa, put more sprinkles!”
“…Thought this was for mama to eat, not you.”
“More! Sprinkles!” Gemma demanded, stomping her sock-covered foot. MIKEY sighed, but yielded.
“So bossy,” he muttered, endeared.
“Mm!” Gemma huffed, cheeks puffed out as she pulled on his pant leg. “Up! Up!”
He shook his head, setting down the sprinkle can before bending in half to hoist the little gremlin up, resting her on his hip. Mikey eyed her for a moment, sleep still clouded in his gaze, but there was a hint of something warmer as he watched her scrutinize his handy work. “t’s the matter? Not to your liking, your highness?”
Mikey gently bounced her, earning a smile despite her efforts to look serious. She pointed. “Looks wonky.”
His eyes widened a fraction. Then, he scoffed. “Does not.”
“Does too.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Uh-huh.”
The playful back and forth goes on for another minute or so. You could only stand there and gape as your heart struggled to grasp the reality that everything was fine.
No one was hurt.
No one was dead.
Eventually, Mikey noticed your figure standing in the entryway, resembling a deer in headlights—The shoulder peeking out of your shirt, the dried drool on the side of your face, bonnet halfway off your head—he felt his soul quiver. You were an angel in the eyes of a sinner, blessed to witness every side of you. Gemma, noticing her father’s attention no longer on her, leaned backward to catch your gaze upside down. She giggled, legs kicking in excitement, “Mama!”
Snapping out of your thoughts, you visibly deflated in relief. With a hand over your chest, you gave a deep exhale. “Why’re you up so early?”
“Beck-fast!” She replied, pointing to the mess on the counter in front of them.
Mikey hummed, nodding. “Was gonna bring it to you in bed, but guess we lost track of time.”
Your eyes trailed over the scene, internally cringing at the mess that you’ll most likely be cleaning later. “I see. But…what’s the occasion?”
Mikey raised a brow. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”
You blinked. “Um…it’s…a celebration?”
The gangster and his mini exchanged a glance. Mikey snorts. “Something like that.” He slowly lowered Gemma as she began to squirm, indicating she wanted to get down. Once her feet touched the floor, that pitter-patter you’d been anticipating earlier finally came as she rushed towards you. You crouched to her, and she immediately jumped in your arms, wrapping her tiny ones around your neck in a great big hug.
“Happy Mama Day!”
It hit you like a freight train. Oh. That’s right.
How could you have possibly forgotten?
In your defense, the past week had taken quite a toll on you both mentally and physically, the days practically blended together. Not to mention, adjusting to a new dynamic now that your family was made whole again. Needless to say, Mother’s Day wasn’t really on your radar.
But, it didn’t need to be. Because you had someone special to remind you. Well, two someones.
You stood up with your daughter snuggled against your side as Mikey approached to show-off their experiment. Despite the fatigue, he couldn’t have looked more pleased. “Yeah. Happy Mama Day, [_____]. The first of many to be shared. Together.”
Warmth spread through you, blanketed by not the warmth of the sun, but something similar. Something better. You felt a sniffle coming on, tears welling in your eyes as you laid your cheek against your daughter’s head. With a wobbly voice, you couldn’t help yourself as you whispered, “It does look a little wonky.”
He squinted. Gemma made a sound of triumph. “Told ya!”
Mikey merely shook his head before dabbing his finger in some of the whipped cream smothered on the top, reaching over to poke Gemma’s nose, then yours for good measure. She squealed in protest, turning to hide her face in your shoulder, effectively smothering more of the cream on you to your dismay. “Geez. This is the thanks I get for slaving over a hot stove. Typical.”
His pout was evident, exaggerated to evoke empathy. It unfortunately did the opposite as you flashed him a teasing glare, followed by a watery chuckle. Wiping your nose with the back of your hand, you licked it off with a hum. “Sweet. Like you. And you.”
Gemma giggled as you nuzzled against her. Mikey, despite his earlier complaints, couldn’t help but grin softly. He leaned in to place a loving kiss to your sugar-coated lips, then to your cheek before pulling back to look into your eyes. “And you.”
The sunlight peeked through the blackout curtains without remorse, melting across your frame like nature’s heated blanket. Blearily, your eyes scrunched open with a defiant groan, arm stretching up to shield your poor peepers only to stop short in motion.
Your arm. Why can you move it?
Usually, there’s an immovable object wrapped around you like a snake, caging you against his chest as if space alone offended him greatly. You blinked. Turning on your side, you found the space to be empty. Odd. If there’s anything your husband wasn’t, it’s a morning person. Not to mention…how quiet it was.
Your daughter. She wasn’t here, trying to force you out of bed with all her tiny might. You stilled, expecting the inevitable pitter-patter of her feet running down the hall, calling out to you at the top of her lungs…only it never came.
You abruptly sat up. The immediate protest from your joints doesn’t stop you from scrambling out of bed, already thinking of the worst case scenario for such a silence.
Someone was hurt.
Someone was dead.
Numerous thoughts, none of them hopeful. You threw open the door, no time for pants, slippers an afterthought as you thump thump thumped down the hall and toward the living room. And when you turned the corner…
“Papa, put more sprinkles!”
“…Thought this was for mama to eat, not you.”
“More! Sprinkles!” Gemma demanded, stomping her sock-covered foot. MIKEY sighed, but yielded.
“So bossy,” he muttered, endeared.
“Mm!” Gemma huffed, cheeks puffed out as she pulled on his pant leg. “Up! Up!”
He shook his head, setting down the sprinkle can before bending in half to hoist the little gremlin up, resting her on his hip. Mikey eyed her for a moment, sleep still clouded in his gaze, but there was a hint of something warmer as he watched her scrutinize his handy work. “t’s the matter? Not to your liking, your highness?”
Mikey gently bounced her, earning a smile despite her efforts to look serious. She pointed. “Looks wonky.”
His eyes widened a fraction. Then, he scoffed. “Does not.”
“Does too.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Uh-huh.”
The playful back and forth goes on for another minute or so. You could only stand there and gape as your heart struggled to grasp the reality that everything was fine.
No one was hurt.
No one was dead.
Eventually, Mikey noticed your figure standing in the entryway, resembling a deer in headlights—The shoulder peeking out of your shirt, the dried drool on the side of your face, bonnet halfway off your head—he felt his soul quiver. You were an angel in the eyes of a sinner, blessed to witness every side of you. Gemma, noticing her father’s attention no longer on her, leaned backward to catch your gaze upside down. She giggled, legs kicking in excitement, “Mama!”
Snapping out of your thoughts, you visibly deflated in relief. With a hand over your chest, you gave a deep exhale. “Why’re you up so early?”
“Beck-fast!” She replied, pointing to the mess on the counter in front of them.
Mikey hummed, nodding. “Was gonna bring it to you in bed, but guess we lost track of time.”
Your eyes trailed over the scene, internally cringing at the mess that you’ll most likely be cleaning later. “I see. But…what’s the occasion?”
Mikey raised a brow. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”
You blinked. “Um…it’s…a celebration?”
The gangster and his mini exchanged a glance. Mikey snorts. “Something like that.” He slowly lowered Gemma as she began to squirm, indicating she wanted to get down. Once her feet touched the floor, that pitter-patter you’d been anticipating earlier finally came as she rushed towards you. You crouched to her, and she immediately jumped in your arms, wrapping her tiny ones around your neck in a great big hug.
“Happy Mama Day!”
It hit you like a freight train. Oh. That’s right.
How could you have possibly forgotten?
In your defense, the past week had taken quite a toll on you both mentally and physically, the days practically blended together. Not to mention, adjusting to a new dynamic now that your family was made whole again. Needless to say, Mother’s Day wasn’t really on your radar.
But, it didn’t need to be. Because you had someone special to remind you. Well, two someones.
You stood up with your daughter snuggled against your side as Mikey approached to show-off their experiment. Despite the fatigue, he couldn’t have looked more pleased. “Yeah. Happy Mama Day, [_____]. The first of many to be shared. Together.”
Warmth spread through you, blanketed by not the warmth of the sun, but something similar. Something better. You felt a sniffle coming on, tears welling in your eyes as you laid your cheek against your daughter’s head. With a wobbly voice, you couldn’t help yourself as you whispered, “It does look a little wonky.”
He squinted. Gemma made a sound of triumph. “Told ya!”
Mikey merely shook his head before dabbing his finger in some of the whipped cream smothered on the top, reaching over to poke Gemma’s nose, then yours for good measure. She squealed in protest, turning to hide her face in your shoulder, effectively smothering more of the cream on you to your dismay. “Geez. This is the thanks I get for slaving over a hot stove. Typical.”
His pout was evident, exaggerated to evoke empathy. It unfortunately did the opposite as you flashed him a teasing glare, followed by a watery chuckle. Wiping the cream off your nose with the back of your hand, you licked some with a hum. “Sweet. Like you. And you.”
Gemma giggled as you nuzzled against her. Mikey, despite his earlier complaints, couldn’t help but grin softly. He leaned in to place a loving kiss to your sugar-coated lips, then to your cheek before pulling back to look into your eyes. “And you.”
MIKEY barely lifted his gaze to acknowledge the subordinate, lazily chewing on his snack as he gestured to the desk. “Leave it there.”
“Yessir.” The subordinate bowed, approaching urgently only to stop shortly after upon getting a closer look at the platinum blonde, seeing something rather unusual. “Oh. Uh, Boss? You got a little…something.”
His low gaze cut to him like an unsheathed blade. “Er…N-Nevermind.”
Mikey stared up until he stiffly marched out without another word. His eyebrow raised up a tick. Weird. Brushing it off, he merely refocused on the task at hand. The important one. The one that mattered most.
“Papa, blue one,” his daughter held up her hand, expectant. Mikey didn’t miss a beat, handing over the crayon. He watched as she scribbled all over the top half of the page, “Sky, Papa.”
“Mm. Clouds, too?”
“Mm!” She nodded, making sure to leave gaps to represent the fluffy mounds. Her tongue poked out in concentration, stopping and holding it up to the light to assess her work, then setting it back down to resume scribbling. Mikey felt the corner of his mouth lift.
It drops instantly at the sound of the door opening. “Boss.”
“Someone better be dying or already dead.” Mikey coldly muttered, reaching over to gently nudge the crayon from the little one’s mouth, followed by a soft, “Don’t eat that.” He handed her the rest of the snack he’d been munching on before looking over to his approaching advisors.
Kakucho paused. As did Ran, who fought back a snort.
Mikey looked between them. “What.”
The former cleared his throat, while the latter struggled to hold it together. “Have you seen yourself recently?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“I mean…” His eyes flit over to the child happily coloring, then back at him. “She’s certainly tapped into her creative side as of late. Drawing on the walls, handprints all on the windows, and…” Kakucho vaguely gestured. Mikey’s brow twitched, irritation simmering.
“Spit it out.”
“The world is her canvas, s’all I’m saying."
"Including your face.” Kakucho side-eyed the lavender-haired man for the comment before shaking his head.
The platinum blonde blinked. His face? He slowly reached up to feel around the skin, and sure enough. Stickers. Several, in fact. Two on the cheek, one near his eyebrow, forehead and his chin. He peeled one off and looked at it, the word ‘Super!’ staring back at him. “Oh.”
Looking at his daughter, she continued to color without much care for the conversation happening. Much like her father, her selective hearing was strong. Mikey sighed, “Little menace. Must’ve got me when I was–I mean we were napping. Oi.”
She looked up at him upon his call, head tilted curiously. All three executives felt a pang in their chest at the devastatingly adorable sight. Mikey steeled himself, attempting to look stern as he presented the sticker. “Wanna explain?”
Her little brows scrunched in thought. After a brief moment, she beamed as she pointed at him, “Papa, super! Gave stickers, like Mama!”
Confusion colored his expression until it dawned on him. You’re a school teacher, or were one. Currently you are on maternity leave, cooking her up a baby brother. However, your teaching persona would come out at home, disciplining or rewarding with the same methods, such as stickers. You had a whole tub of school supplies, overflowing with those in particular. And evidently, the little troublemaker had been snooping around in it.
Unable to hold the stern facade any longer, Mikey offered a small, but rare–Well, rare for his colleague–smile. With a huff, he leaned forward to kiss her forehead before placing the star sticker to the spot, earning him a gleeful giggle in return; the best reward. Ruffling her hair, Mikey spoke with warmth, “I think you’re super.”
“No, you are!”
“No, you are,” he parroted, poking her nose. It scrunched up immediately, sending another dreadful pang in his chest. Good thing you were already pregnant with baby number two, otherwise there would be nothing stopping him from ditching work to get on that ASAP.
The third-in-command cleared his throat. Mikey's smile drops for the second time. “Apologies. We have our meeting with the shareholders in twenty. Sanzu is ready with the car, and the Haitanis agreed to watch over the young miss while we’re gone.”
“Wouldn’t say we agreed, but beats sitting in on that bullshit.”
“Watch your mouth.” Mikey warned. “She repeats any of that at home, I’m telling [____] it’s your fault.”
“Snitching on me to the teacher? That’s low, Boss.”
“Please don’t take advantage of his good mood.” Kakucho exasperated, rubbing his temple. Ran conceded with a shrug, lowering to level with the little one.
“Alright, mini Boss, you're comin' with uncle Ran. Let’s go make uncle Rin you're next masterpiece.”
Her eyes light up brighter than before, if possible. “Mm!” Dropping her crayons, she pushed herself off the ground to toddle over to the eldest Haitani. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Turning to Mikey, she rushes to him and falls into his arms for a hug. “Buh-bye, Papa! Wub you!”
Mikey startled a little but soon relaxed, still getting used to the onslaught of affection she was so full of; seeing so much of you in her everyday. He patted her head, “Me too, sweetheart.”
“Stickers stay on?” She peered at him, hopeful.
He stiffened. Opening his mouth to protest, the words turn to ash in his mouth at her pleading gaze. With a sigh, he gave a resigned nod. “I’ll keep them on all day. Promise.”
Ran and Kakucho exchanged a glance.
—
Murderers, traffickers, scum of the earth alike couldn’t believe their eyes.
Colorful stickers, some big and some small, littered across the lethal leader’s face like the inside of a child’s school book. And he sat there. Unperturbed. Unbothered. Unashamed.
Because who’s gonna check a crashout who loves his kid?
"I REALLY NEED SOMEBODY, TELL ME YOU THAT SOMEBODY"
synopsis: being a lover girl on the grounds isn’t for the weak. thankfully, your tireless search for the one comes to an end after you meet him.
pairings: cleaners x reader [ enjin, gris, arkha, bro ]
notes: still trying to get a good idea on everyone's character and mannerisms, hopefully i'm doing them justice so far - hope you enjoy!
“I’m down.”
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
“I’ll drive.”
Whenever you had an itch to try something new, no matter if you spent hours overthinking it or if it was a last minute decision, ENJIN would be the guy to call about it. He’ll never stray away from a task just because it sounds complicated. Why sweat the small stuff? You’ll figure it out when you get there, and if it blows up in your face–Who cares? It’ll be a hell of a story to tell together.
He’ll bring out your inner child in a way you didn’t realize you needed. Never shoots you down, at least not without a good reason, and even then the limit would have to be scary high on the scale for him to bring out his reasonable side. “Sorry, I know it sounds silly-”
“Mm, nah. Sounds like a good time. When we leavin’?”
Your chest heaved after expelling all those pent up emotions onto the poor, unsuspecting man before you. The silence after was more suffocating than your prior feeling of being cornered. Regret started to creep in when neither of you spoke, then came the tears as you quickly ducked your head down to avoid how GRIS was probably looking at you like you were crazy. You waited–For the teardown, for the judgement–for anything you thought was deserved for your childish outburst. But, when nothing came, you had no choice but to hesitantly lift your gaze and find him…waiting. Waiting for…what?
When your eyes locked, only then did he speak. “There you are. Feel a little better?”
You blinked. A few tears escaped as you meekly responded. “..what?”
Gris approached, slowly with hands raised like approaching a frightened stray. When he was close enough, he reached to gently wipe the wet trail off your cheek with his thumb. You stared at him, befuddled. His expression remained calm, despite having every right to be upset with you, he merely offered a grin full of warmth. “That must’ve been weighing on you for some time. I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner that you were struggling with all of those negative thoughts. But, I’m here now. Cry, scream, whatever you need to release it. I’m here.”
It shocked him when you slammed your bedroom door in his face. ARKHA stood there, dumbfounded. After the initial shock subsided, he chuckled to himself before knocking on the door once more. “Hey now. That wasn’t very nice. And I came all this way to check on you.”
“...I look disgusting. Go away.” Came your muffled reply. His grin softened.
“I’ve seen some pretty gnarly things in this job, I can assure you that you aren’t one of them. Not even close.”
He could practically hear the gears turning in your head, no doubt sifting through every excuse in the book to not open the door. It’s not like it’s locked, he could barge in if he really wanted to. But, he wouldn’t dare push you. He chuckled once more, “Alright. I suppose if my beautiful, wonderful, not disgusting significant other isn’t in the mood, then I’ll wait until she is.”
Arkha pretended to walk away, lightening his footsteps to appear as if he was getting further. Then, he heard the door creak open. “Wait..”
He turned around, arms already spread. “Oh, there’s my beautiful, wonderful, not disgusting significant other.” You rolled your eyes, but the heat in your face couldn’t be blamed on just your fever. When you opened the door wider, he wasted no time embracing you, kissing your slightly damp forehead. “Sick or not, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
He knows. Even if you think you’re a master at masking, BRO will always know. A curl in your lip, a furrow of your brow, a tick in your jaw–All your microexpressions are documented until the core reason eventually reveals itself. And when it does? He’s there with a solution.
“Here ya go.” He hands you a protein bar. You stared at it blankly. “You’re hungry, right? Packed extra just in case, so don’t worry about it.”
“Yeah but..how’d you know I was-?”
He shrugged. “You were biting your fingernails.”
You looked at him, perturbed. Bro rubbed the back of his neck. “D-Dear sometimes does that, too. But he gnaws on his sleeves when Centralian isn’t enough of a distraction.”
“Oh. Thanks, babe.” Pink lightly dusts on his cheeks, flowers floating around his head, happy that he was on right on the money, as usual.
"I REALLY NEED SOMEBODY, TELL ME YOU THAT SOMEBODY"
synopsis: being a lover girl on the grounds isn’t for the weak. thankfully, your tireless search for the one comes to an end after you meet him.
pairings: cleaners x reader [ enjin, gris, arkha, bro ]
notes: still trying to get a good idea on everyone's character and mannerisms, hopefully i'm doing them justice so far - hope you enjoy!
“I’m down.”
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
“I’ll drive.”
Whenever you had an itch to try something new, no matter if you spent hours overthinking it or if it was a last minute decision, ENJIN would be the guy to call about it. He’ll never stray away from a task just because it sounds complicated. Why sweat the small stuff? You’ll figure it out when you get there, and if it blows up in your face–Who cares? It’ll be a hell of a story to tell together.
He’ll bring out your inner child in a way you didn’t realize you needed. Never shoots you down, at least not without a good reason, and even then the limit would have to be scary high on the scale for him to bring out his reasonable side. “Sorry, I know it sounds silly-”
“Mm, nah. Sounds like a good time. When we leavin’?”
Your chest heaved after expelling all those pent up emotions onto the poor, unsuspecting man before you. The silence after was more suffocating than your prior feeling of being cornered. Regret started to creep in when neither of you spoke, then came the tears as you quickly ducked your head down to avoid how GRIS was probably looking at you like you were crazy. You waited–For the teardown, for the judgement–for anything you thought was deserved for your childish outburst. But, when nothing came, you had no choice but to hesitantly lift your gaze and find him…waiting. Waiting for…what?
When your eyes locked, only then did he speak. “There you are. Feel a little better?”
You blinked. A few tears escaped as you meekly responded. “..what?”
Gris approached, slowly with hands raised like approaching a frightened stray. When he was close enough, he reached to gently wipe the wet trail off your cheek with his thumb. You stared at him, befuddled. His expression remained calm, despite having every right to be upset with you, he merely offered a grin full of warmth. “That must’ve been weighing on you for some time. I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner that you were struggling with all of those negative thoughts. But, I’m here now. Cry, scream, whatever you need to release it. I’m here.”
It shocked him when you slammed your bedroom door in his face. ARKHA stood there, dumbfounded. After the initial shock subsided, he chuckled to himself before knocking on the door once more. “Hey now. That wasn’t very nice. And I came all this way to check on you.”
“...I look disgusting. Go away.” Came your muffled reply. His grin softened.
“I’ve seen some pretty gnarly things in this job, I can assure you that you aren’t one of them. Not even close.”
He could practically hear the gears turning in your head, no doubt sifting through every excuse in the book to not open the door. It’s not like it’s locked, he could barge in if he really wanted to. But, he wouldn’t dare push you. He chuckled once more, “Alright. I suppose if my beautiful, wonderful, not disgusting significant other isn’t in the mood, then I’ll wait until she is.”
Arkha pretended to walk away, lightening his footsteps to appear as if he was getting further. Then, he heard the door creak open. “Wait..”
He turned around, arms already spread. “Oh, there’s my beautiful, wonderful, not disgusting significant other.” You rolled your eyes, but the heat in your face couldn’t be blamed on just your fever. When you opened the door wider, he wasted no time embracing you, kissing your slightly damp forehead. “Sick or not, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
He knows. Even if you think you’re a master at masking, BRO will always know. A curl in your lip, a furrow of your brow, a tick in your jaw–All your microexpressions are documented until the core reason eventually reveals itself. And when it does? He’s there with a solution.
“Here ya go.” He hands you a protein bar. You stared at it blankly. “You’re hungry, right? Packed extra just in case, so don’t worry about it.”
“Yeah but..how’d you know I was-?”
He shrugged. “You were biting your fingernails.”
You looked at him, perturbed. Bro rubbed the back of his neck. “D-Dear sometimes does that, too. But he gnaws on his sleeves when Centralian isn’t enough of a distraction.”
“Oh. Thanks, babe.” Pink lightly dusts on his cheeks, flowers floating around his head, happy that he was on right on the money, as usual.
MIKEY barely lifted his gaze to acknowledge the subordinate, lazily chewing on his snack as he gestured to the desk. “Leave it there.”
“Yessir.” The subordinate bowed, approaching urgently only to stop shortly after upon getting a closer look at the platinum blonde, seeing something rather unusual. “Oh. Uh, Boss? You got a little…something.”
His low gaze cut to him like an unsheathed blade. “Er…N-Nevermind.”
Mikey stared up until he stiffly marched out without another word. His eyebrow raised up a tick. Weird. Brushing it off, he merely refocused on the task at hand. The important one. The one that mattered most.
“Papa, blue one,” his daughter held up her hand, expectant. Mikey didn’t miss a beat, handing over the crayon. He watched as she scribbled all over the top half of the page, “Sky, Papa.”
“Mm. Clouds, too?”
“Mm!” She nodded, making sure to leave gaps to represent the fluffy mounds. Her tongue poked out in concentration, stopping and holding it up to the light to assess her work, then setting it back down to resume scribbling. Mikey felt the corner of his mouth lift.
It drops instantly at the sound of the door opening. “Boss.”
“Someone better be dead or dying.” Mikey coldly muttered, reaching over to gently nudge the crayon from the little one’s mouth, followed by a soft, “Don’t eat that.” He handed her the rest of the snack he’d been munching on before looking over to his approaching advisors.
Kakucho paused. As did Ran, who fought back a snort.
Mikey looked between them. “What.”
The former cleared his throat, while the latter struggled to hold it together. “Have you seen yourself recently?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“I mean…” His eyes flit over to the child happily coloring, then back at him. “She’s certainly tapped into her creative side as of late. Drawing on the walls, handprints all on the windows, and…” Kakucho vaguely gestured. Mikey’s brow twitched, irritation simmering.
“Spit it out.”
“The world is her canvas, s’all I’m saying."
"Including your face.” Kakucho side-eyed the lavender-haired man for the comment before shaking his head.
The platinum blonde blinked. His face? He slowly reached up to feel around the skin, and sure enough. Stickers. Several, in fact. Two on the cheek, one near his eyebrow, forehead and his chin. He peeled one off and looked at it, the word ‘Super!’ staring back at him. “Oh.”
Looking at his daughter, she continued to color without much care for the conversation happening. Much like her father, her selective hearing was strong. Mikey sighed, “Little menace. Must’ve got me when I was–I mean we were napping. Oi.”
She looked up at him upon his call, head tilted curiously. All three executives felt a pang in their chest at the devastatingly adorable sight. Mikey steeled himself, attempting to look stern as he presented the sticker. “Wanna explain?”
Her little brows scrunched in thought. After a brief moment, she beamed as she pointed at him, “Papa, super! Gave stickers, like Mama!”
Confusion colored his expression until it dawned on him. You’re a school teacher, or were one. Currently you are on maternity leave, cooking her up a baby brother. However, your teaching persona would come out at home, disciplining or rewarding with the same methods, such as stickers. You had a whole tub of school supplies, overflowing with those in particular. And evidently, the little troublemaker had been snooping around in it.
Unable to hold the stern facade any longer, Mikey offered a small, but rare–Well, rare for his colleague–smile. With a huff, he leaned forward to kiss her forehead before placing the star sticker to the spot, earning him a gleeful giggle in return; the best reward. Ruffling her hair, Mikey spoke with warmth, “I think you’re super.”
“No, you are!”
“No, you are,” he parroted, poking her nose. It scrunched up immediately, sending another dreadful pang in his chest. Good thing you were already pregnant with baby number two, otherwise there would be nothing stopping him from ditching work to get on that ASAP.
The third-in-command cleared his throat. Mikey's smile drops for the second time. “Apologies. We have our meeting with the shareholders in twenty. Sanzu is ready with the car, and the Haitanis agreed to watch over the young miss while we’re gone.”
“Wouldn’t say we agreed, but beats sitting in on that bullshit.”
“Watch your mouth.” Mikey warned. “She repeats any of that at home, I’m telling [____] it’s your fault.”
“Snitching on me to the teacher? That’s low, Boss.”
“Please don’t take advantage of his good mood.” Kakucho exasperated, rubbing his temple. Ran conceded with a shrug, lowering to level with the little one.
“Alright, mini Boss, you're comin' with uncle Ran. Let’s go make uncle Rin your next masterpiece.”
Her eyes light up brighter than before, if possible. “Mm!” Dropping her crayons, she pushed herself off the ground to toddle over to the eldest Haitani. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Turning to Mikey, she rushes to him and falls into his arms for a hug. “Buh-bye, Papa! Wub you!”
Mikey startled a little but soon relaxed, still getting used to the onslaught of affection she was so full of; seeing so much of you in her everyday. He patted her head, “Me too, sweetheart.”
“Stickers stay on?” She peered at him, hopeful.
He stiffened. Opening his mouth to protest, the words turn to ash in his mouth at her pleading gaze. With a sigh, he gave a resigned nod. “I’ll keep them on all day. Promise.”
Ran and Kakucho exchanged a glance.
—
Murderers, traffickers, scum of the earth alike couldn’t believe their eyes.
Colorful stickers, some big and some small, littered across the lethal leader’s face like the inside of a child’s school book. And he sat there. Unperturbed. Unbothered. Unashamed.
Because who’s gonna check a crashout who loves his kid?
